#so it seems every time i get into a new musical i have to write at least one fic about it
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hello! firstly i wanted to say that ily all so much. this blog is genuinely one of the best things ive ever stumbled upon so thank you sososo much!
now, i was wondering if you had any more crack, silly fics that you recently read and really enjoyed? I somehow read every single fic that yall had on #crack 😭
anyway, thanks again! <3
Hi! Here are more fics to add to the #crack tag...
it's time to play the music, it's time to light the lights by quitequaintrelle (T)
Something strange is happening to Anthony J. Crowley. Well, more accurately, something strange is happening to everyone other than Crowley.
Sorry, Right Number (aka The Dick Pic Fic) by Thavron (E)
Crowley sends an unsolicited dick pic to the wrong number. Adorably awkward textual flirting ensues. Good evening, I am sorry to inform you that you seem to have sent this message to the wrong number. Your genitals are quite lovely, and I am sure that the intended recipient will be disappointed to have missed out. As I am not the intended recipient, I have deleted the image. I hope that offers some peace of mind. Regards, AZF
The Greasy Pole by AppleSeeds (T)
Furfur gets promoted to Temptations and seeks Crowley's help to learn the necessary techniques. Crowley performs a demonstration with Aziraphale's help, and, thankfully, the angel turns out to be a very good actor when it comes to being receptive to Crowley's attempts to tempt him, but will Furfur have any success when he tries to deploy the same techniques on his own?
what's the name of the game? by Anonymous (G)
Crowley, as an occult being, a former angel, and a causer of chaos has a very attuned sense of shifts in the celestial fabric. He’s no angel, so he doesn’t sense love, or charity, or any of that. But, he knows when the celestial fabric shifts several millimeters to the left. He knows he has a sense for this because Adam’s refusal to finish Armageddon moved the universe four and a half meters to the right. It wreaked havoc on Crowley’s sense of direction and his balance for a good month after it happened. All of that to say, Crowley should have noticed something was up well before the cassettes in his Bentley all started turning into ABBA Gold: Greatest Hits.
and they were tumblrinas??? by everydayistuesday (T)
Look. Crowley didn’t mean to inspire Eric Kripke to write Supernatural. He certainly didn’t mean to get invested, or to have a blog about it on tumblr. And no, he’s definitely not crying over that last episode. What are you talking about? Or: it’s November 5, 2020, and one Anthony J. Crowley is just along for the ride. OR: the gomens November 5 fic absolutely nobody asked for.
Safe, Sane, and Consensual Caffeination by DiscombobulatedBard (M)
Ghostwriter Crowley loves going to Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death and ordering his usual six shots of espresso. Aziraphale, the shop’s new barista, refuses to indulge his unhealthy habit any longer. Crowley will not give up his favorite vice; Aziraphale will not stand by and let him caffeinate himself into oblivion. When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, who will win the standoff?
- Mod D
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Hamilton!

summary: rafe takes you to go see hamilton:
warnings: make out sesh at the end but that’s it!
writers notes: in honour of me going to see hamilton soon, this is for my fellow autistic queens!
you have very specific, special interests that you talk to rafe about all the time. you read books about things you liked when you were younger and now you’re just a walking source of information about space, the ocean and musicals.
you express your interest of hamilton the musical a lot to rafe, you often play the songs in the car, watch it on the tv or even just sit and yap to rafe about it.
he listens to every minute of it. he knows all the characters, and much to your excitement, he seems to be learning a lot of the songs, tapping his hands on the steering wheel to them.
this morning, you’re eating your breakfast writing in your journal as rafe watches some highlights of a football game. you never liked football but you always listened to rafe when he was talking about it so you know enough about it to know what’s going on.
“hey, babe?” he looks at you and you look up from your journal.
“yeah?”
“would you wanna go see hamilton?” he smirks and sits up properly.
“what kinda question is that? of course i do” you scoff and go back to writing in your book.
“well i know you do… but i got tickets baby…” he smiles, brushing some hair back that was blocking his view of your pretty face.
“what?! where?! when?” you slam the book down on the coffee table and wrap your arms tightly around him.
“this saturday… it’s in new york” he kisses your temple and wraps his arms tightly around your waist as you giggle excitedly. you pull back and look at him with a huge grin on your face.
“thank you, rafey” you rest your forehead against his.
“no problem, my love” he smiles and nudges your nose with his, making you giggle.
once you guys landed in new york, you went sightseeing for a few hours, grabbed food at a nice pizza place and then headed to the theatre.
once you guys get sat down in your seat you squeeze rafe’s arm in excitement. he chuckles and kisses your head.
“you sure you won’t combust with excitement?” he smiles and squeezes your thigh.
you nod and look between the stage and him you guys are pretty close.
“i’ll contain myself”
the show was amazing, you’re grinning ear to ear when you and rafe walk out. you’re swinging your hands as you walk down the road and to the subway to go to the hotel rafe had booked for the night.
once you get there, it’s around 11pm. you get changed into your pyjamas and wait for rafe in bed as he’s in the shower.
he gets out the shower and smirks when he sees you.
“you’re still smiling to yourself, baby…” he chuckles.
“i’m just so happy…” you giggle and sit up, crawling over your the end of the bed where’s he’s stood. you sit back on your heels and look up at him.
he can’t resist and grabs your neck, gently, and dips his head down to kiss you hungrily.
“you look so damn innocent, babygirl…” he pushes you down onto your back and crawls ontop of you.
he pins each hand above your head and kisses you harshly, trailing his lips down your neck and chest, he pays extra attention to your perky breasts that poke out of your soft silk pyjamas.
he didn’t stop there…
#©rafeysangel#rafe edit#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x yn#rafe fic#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfiction#rafe headcanons#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe outer banks#obx pogues#obx fic
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"Just One of Those Things" - lyrics to a jazz standard by American songwriter Cole Porter (1891–1964), famously performed by artists such as Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Blossom Dearie, et cetera.
#influences#i think of cole porter as one of the best jazz poets. sorry but his lyrics are so perfectly metrical it drives me CRAZY#i purposefully broke up every line where it became catalectic bc emphasizing those breaks is. so fun#cole porter#jazz#song lyrics#poetry#twentieth century#and since this is queued for new year's eve... i hope you're all out there having your just-one-of-those-things tonight#have fun go crazy get wild it's just one of those things#fun fact this is my first time putting straight-up song lyrics in my influences tag but it's kinda long overdue#but im going to be very select when i do post song lyrics on this blog. they cant just be song lyrics i like#but song lyrics i enjoy in the same way i enjoy poetry#this may be (and is) a very unpopular opinion but i do not think songwriting has very much in common w writing poetry#by necessity that is. and that is bc ive never been able to write songs#for some of us they can be very very very different skills#the modern arts of music and poetry are very diverged from each other in terms of what it takes to write a good song or a good poem#they are NOT as overlapped as some ppl try to make it seem sometimes#it's not like drawing versus painting anymore it's more like drawing versus sculpting#ps my favorite version of this song is blossom dearie's
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Seeing people on Twitter trying to hate on Taylor swift is so funny like, she’s living in their heads rent free as they scramble for reasons to hate her
#the only valid argument I’ve seen is the CO2 emissions from her private jet#but funny enough I never see any of those same people complain about other huge artists using their private jets as frequently as her#I’ve even seen people suggest she just get tickets on a regular plane but guess what#having someone THAT famous on a flight could actually be a hazard to all involved#people would flock to her or cause a scene or record her the entire time#and that’s just on the plane#then people talk shit about her releasing music the same week as other artists#girl there are only 52 fucking weeks in a year and those other artists teams picked that week for specific reasons just like Taylor’s team#some weeks will obviously be worse for a new release than others like holidays and such#they don’t all collaborate and decide on who gets what week#it’s just so funny that they think she does this on purpose#and they think the argument makes sense just because she’s had so much coming out the past few years#which she only had to do because she wanted to actually own her own music#I’ve also seen a few people try to claim that she doesn’t write her own mucus which is even more hysterical ngl#one of the funniest claims I’ve seen is that she is ‘manipulating the top charts’ so she can stay at number one#first of all wtf do they think she’s doing#how the fuck can someone manipulate the charts#if they’re talking about how she strategically releases her music then sure#every fucking artist under the sun does that#that’s not manipulation that’s just understanding the industry that you’re in#they also can’t seem to grasp that she’s at number one so often because she makes good music and people like listening to her#and then I saw someone try to claim that she could never sell out a stadium#…#honey#wanna try that again?#I looked into it and they specified a 100000 seat stadium#one that’s she has funny enough sold out three times before#omfg it wasn’t just three times it was THREE NIGHTS IN A ROW#also if you want other artist to get the spotlight#THEN STOP COMPARING THEM
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
#writing#creative writing#writer problems#writing advice#writing community#writing a book#writing problems#novel writing#on writing#writing tips#writing help#writers on tumblr#writers block#female writers#writers of tumblr#writers blog#adhd writer
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in which you’re a rising music star who navigates playful tension with actor drew starkey, and your flirtation turns into something deeper amid a viral music video and your grammy win.
content: diff style writing, drew being cute n following readers lead for the mv
authors note: will lowkey write a part 2 and/or the music video version of this if requested but idk, hopefully it was kinda understandable!! i just wanted the pov as if u were watching the yt video for the behind the scenes footage omg
you’ve known of drew starkey—how could you not? he’s a rising star, a name that keeps getting bigger, a face that’s starting to dominate everyone’s celebrity crush list whenever you scroll through tiktok. the kind of guy that gets cast in fan-favorite shows, whose off-screen personality makes people love him even more. charming, funny, effortlessly likable. he’s everywhere.
but what you couldn’t have imagined is that he knew of you first.
it started small, almost too subtle to notice. a clip of him in an interview, sitting back in his chair, nodding as he listens to a question before casually mentioning that he had just discovered a new artist, you, and couldn’t stop listening. he called your music addictive, something about the way you write lyrics just clicked with him. maybe it would’ve gone unnoticed if he hadn’t mentioned it again.
a month later, another interview, another confession. a different setting, a different outfit, but the same topic. only this time, the interviewer caught onto it.
“seems like you’re a fan.”
drew, red in the face, grinning but flustered, just said, “yeah. yeah, i am.”
he didn’t say much else, but he didn’t have to. the internet picked up on the pattern. his name was suddenly linked to yours, your fans and his fans overlapping, people tweeting at you to collab when?, digging through every interview and live stream to see if he’d mention you again. edits of him set to your songs started appearing on every social media feed. some even made it look like you were the leads in some slow-burn romance movie, just from your music videos and his show clips.
and you? you didn’t think much of it. it was flattering, sure. entertaining, even. but you’d never spoken, never met, never had a reason to. it was just one of those internet things, something people liked to fantasize about but wasn’t real.
until about a year ago.
red carpet event, flashing cameras, voices shouting your name. you were mid-step, smiling for a picture when an interviewer stopped you, microphone extended.
“if you win tonight, who’s getting the first thank-you?”
you barely thought about it. “oh, obviously. my parents, my team, everyone who worked on the album . . .” a pause, a flicker of mischief as the words slipped out. “and drew starkey!”
then you scurried off, leaving the interviewer blinking after you. you didn’t look back, but you knew exactly what you’d just done. by the time you got home, twitter had already lost its mind.
so with all that history, all those years of almosts, how could you not end 2024 and start 2025 with a steamy, intimate music video starring your one and only secret admirer?
the behind-the-scenes video you upload to youtube starts with a simple title card—bts: filming my new music video with bae—before fading into a clip of you on set, bundled up in a puffer jacket, arms wide as you greet drew with an easy, “hi!”
it’s the first time meeting him in person. you’ve known of him, obviously, but standing here now, seeing the way his face lights up at the sight of you, it’s different. the camera catches his initial reaction. he smiles wide, like he’s trying to keep himself from grinning too hard, nodding like he’s trying to play it cool. you hug, brief but natural, before the video cuts to your interview.
you’re curled up in your seat, dressed down in sweats, looking entirely comfortable in front of the camera like you’ve done this a hundred times before. one leg is crossed over the other, your head rests against your palm, and the other hand is tucked between your thighs, playing absentmindedly with the fabric of your hoodie. you’re practically beaming as you talk.
“he’s cute. but no, getting drew to agree to the video was no problem,” you admit, a small laugh slipping through. “it just made sense. everybody on twitter and everybody on tiktok can calm down now.”
you grin at the camera before adding, “plus, my mom loved his last movie.”
your friend behind the camera immediately jumps in, amused. “did she?”
you snicker, nodding your head like the answer is obvious. you don’t even need to say anything. your smile says it all.
cut to: on set at night.
you stand close to drew, explaining your vision, the two of you tucked into a quiet corner of the closed-off street. it’s late. you’re talking, hands moving as you try to get the words out just right, and drew listens intently, nodding along, before huffing out a laugh at something you say.
the next shot is of you in position, standing just outside the entrance of a nightclub. the scene is meant to be electric, with the music pounding inside, the city buzzing around you. you refilm the shot a few times, stepping out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk, pausing just as drew and ‘his group of friends’ step onto the curb from their car. the camera zooms in on your expression, catching the exact moment your character notices him.
you give him a look, one of intrigue, curiosity, a silent pull that makes drew’s character do a double take as he follows his friends inside. but as you turn and walk away, he hesitates. his friends don’t notice, but the audience is supposed to.
although the music is supposed to cut through, they’ll be able to see him say the words, “wait up for me, i’ll catch up.”
he stays behind. he follows you.
the cameras catch him walking past the frame, but in the behind-the-scenes footage, you’re already waiting for him off-camera. you’re standing just around the corner, out of sight, and the second he’s done with his take, he breaks into a grin, beaming as he jogs over to you.
“was that good?” he asks, a little breathless, still caught in the rush of the scene.
and off-camera, you laugh.
the next shot starts with a handheld camera capturing you inside a dimly lit bar, the neon glow from the signs reflecting off the polished counter. you’re perched on a stool, fingers curled around a glass, not drinking, just holding it for the scene, your expression unreadable as the camera focuses on you. the shot lasts for only a moment before it abruptly cuts away.
to: drew’s micro interview.
he’s leaned back in his chair, relaxed, but there’s a knowing glint in his eyes, something playful lurking beneath his words. “she made me flustered super easily, yeah,” he confesses, mouth curving into a smirk as he glances off-camera toward your friend conducting the interviews. “she just has that effect to her.”
to: the first night scene.
this time, the energy is entirely different. the camera moves with purpose, following drew as he catches up to you, his hand grasping your arm, tugging you into another alleyway. the moment is fast, urgent, his body pressing yours up against the cool brick wall, his lips finding yours without hesitation.
the camera doesn’t linger on the kiss itself. instead, it captures the details, like the way drew’s fingers tighten around the fabric of your clothes, the way your hand slips into the back of his hair, curling at the nape of his neck. the shot pans downward, exposing the closeness between your bodies, the breathlessness of it all, before the scene suddenly fades.
you’re sitting up straighter this time in your interview immediately after the clip, legs crossed, hands in your lap, but there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes. your tongue presses against your top teeth as you chuckle, fully aware of what you’ve just filmed. you don’t say much, but the knowing look on your face says enough.
the final shot of this segment shows you and drew after the director calls cut, the tension immediately breaking as laughter spills between you. you pull away first, eyes bright as you turn toward the monitors, eager to check the footage.
drew, still lingering in place, rubs his bottom lip with his thumb, watching you for a beat before finally trailing after you, taking his time.
the next shot follows your character, leading drew by the hand, weaving through the streetlights, your destination clear in your mind, and you toss him the car keys without hesitation. drew catches them, glancing between you and the keys in his hand, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. the trust is unexpected, almost daring. but after a brief hesitation, he gives in, climbing into the driver’s seat while you swing into the passenger side, watching him with a smirk.
the screen quickly shifts to behind-the-scenes footage—handheld, slightly shaky, like a friend capturing the moment on their phone. you lean halfway out of the car window, hair tousled from the wind. your voice is light, playful, as you drag out the words dramatically, “we’ve been filming for the last six hours! i wanna go home.”
you make a face at the camera, and off-screen laughter follows. just as the camera pans back toward the car, drew reappears, slipping into the driver’s seat after what was clearly a break. he clocks the camera almost immediately, smiling as he watches you slide back inside, adjusting in your seat like you’re preparing for another take.
to: the car scene.
you're in the passenger seat, lip-syncing the lyrics, the camera catching you. your expression shifts between something teasing and something more heated, fingers toying with the hem of your dress as drew grips the wheel beside you.
then, another interview clip overlays the scene. you sit comfortably, your grin almost mischievous as you speak, “i wanted this music video to be very, very horny. like, so horny but also so fun, and freeing too.”
you pause, laughing as you push your hair back, “i really wanted to capture that feeling of instant attraction. like, that moment when you lock eyes with someone across the room and just know something’s about to happen. the whole video is about chasing that rush, that tension of being drawn to someone you shouldn’t want but not being able to stop yourself.”
“so, yeah. i wanted it to feel intense, a little dangerous, a little intoxicating . . . like a night you’ll never forget, even if it only lasts ‘til sunrise.”
it cuts to a different segment of the micro interview. you’re sitting casually, your thumb nail between your teeth as you listen to your friend. the vibe is lighthearted, almost too laid-back, until your friend says, “you should call him if you win that grammy.”
you freeze for a second, eyes widening slightly, then burst out laughing. sitting up straighter, you give her a look, almost like she’s lost their mind, “are you serious?”
the final shot in the behind-the-scenes video captures you dramatically collapsing onto the mock-bedroom set, letting out an exaggerated groan as you flop onto the bed, completely wiped from weeks of filming. you’re on your back, hair splayed out around you like a halo, eyes half-closed as the exhaustion hits you full force.
drew, on the other hand, leans back against the headboard, legs sprawled out casually as if he could take on another round of filming, but still, his hand reaches out, and you take it without hesitation. your hands clasp in a silent victory, both of you relishing in the fact that you’ve wrapped up the last take of the day.
“is that it?” you ask, glancing at the crew who are already packing up, and when they confirm it, a smile breaks across your face. you raise a fist in the air, a mock victory pose, causing a few of the crew members to chuckle behind the camera.
the camera cuts back to you, but just a few minutes later, still lounging on the bed with drew, who’s now looking at you with that signature grin of his. you sit up, stretching your arms over your head, and your voice is light as you ask, “was that fun?” you’re genuinely checking in, making sure drew’s feeling good after all the intense shots.
drew pauses for a beat, then lets out a little laugh, clearly still feeling the buzz from the shoot. “i had . . . a blast,” he says, but there’s something about the way he says it, maybe it’s the glint in his eyes or the slight inflection in his voice, that makes you burst out laughing.
you start to get up from the bed, your laugh still lingering in the air as you move out of the frame. the camera stays on drew as he watches you go, looking like he’s still processing the day. just as you move out of view, someone walks in from the side to start cleaning up the set, but drew doesn’t miss a beat.
“i’m being so honest right now, dude,” he says, his grin turning playful, and you hear the laughter behind the camera as they capture this moment.
after the music video shoot wraps, you and drew keep in touch. with the release of the video just around the corner, your team suggests posting a teaser to build hype on social media. it’s the perfect opportunity, so you agree.
another mini shoot is set up for the teaser. drew and his team arrive, and even though this shoot is way more relaxed than the last one, the excitement is still palpable. you’re going to film a short, tantalizing snippet.
the plan is for the camera to follow your feet clicking against the floor as you walk down a hallway, but your face won’t be seen. you stop in front of a door and knock before the cameras on you now.
the moment the door opens, your smile is real as you grab his hand. you pull him with you down the hall, and the camera focuses on the back of his head, leaving fans to wonder who he is. as you pass the wall, the words of the song title come to life to tease which song its for.
as soon as the video drops, the internet blows up. fans can’t stop guessing who your mystery man is.
‘ its drew isnt it ’
‘ PLEASE TELL ME THATS WHO I RHKNK IT IS ’
‘ y/n y/l/n u did NOT. ’
others speculate wildly, throwing out all kinds of guesses. you both meet up to hang out during the lead-up to your album release, laughing about the crazy theories online. some fans are dead sure it’s him, while others debate who it could be. the excitement only grows, and you secretly enjoy the fun of keeping them guessing.
but everything falls into place when you win that grammy. it’s the culmination of everything you’ve worked so hard for, and as the announcement echoes through the room, you’re overwhelmed with emotions. you honestly didn’t expect this, especially as a first-timer. they are hard to come by, and you’re honestly convinced this is going to be your one and only.
the wave of emotion hits you as you hug your loved ones, the tears welling up in your eyes. you quickly pat under your eyes with your fingers, trying to compose yourself as you walk toward the stage. all eyes are on you, and the spotlight is so bright you almost can’t bear to look directly at it.
you hold the grammy in your hands, trying to keep your composure as you deliver the half-planned speech you’d scribbled down earlier. it’s all so surreal.
“god, i actually thought i was about to pass out when they said my name,” you admit, and the audience of familiar faces laughs.
“i just can’t believe i’m standing here right now, receiving this. i have poured my heart into this album, into my music, and i never imagined it would lead me here. to my team and family, you’re the reason this dream is even possible. to my fans, thank you for making this journey so worth it. this award is for us. i love you all, and i’ll keep making music as long as you’ll keep listening. thank you all so much.”
eventually you’re off the stage and sitting at your table, still processing everything that's just happened. there are few who still congratulate you from their seats around you. your friend, sitting beside you, gives you a look, the kind that says it all. you know what to do.
you hesitate. was she serious about what she said before about if you won? you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the pull of it. you grab your phone and turn it on briefly, waiting for an appropriate moment. your thumb hovers over the keyboard for a moment before you type out the message to drew:
hey. can i call u tonight?
a/n: such an abrupt ending LOL but i have to cut it off here bc i have my first day of my new class tmr n im supposed to get up in 2 hours 💔 ILL REWRITE THIS OR DO A PART 2 IF I REREAD THIS LATER N NOT LIKE IT
#coryndoll#drew#drew starkey#drew starkey x you#drew starkey fic#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine#drew smut#drew x you#drew blurb#drew fic#drew imagine#drew fanfiction#drew fanfic
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kiss it, bite it, can i fit it?

pairing: arlecchino x fem!reader
context: your first time getting dragged into a lesbian bar after you came to therealization that men are simply just not for you. little did you know, your friends already had someone set up for you…
cw: modern au, dilf arle, implied age gap, shameless flirting, reader is lowkey inexperienced, strap-on, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, arle introduces you into the world of awesome sesbian lex, body worship, modern arle has her whole arms tattooed and you cannot convince me otherwise, no shade thrown on my bisexual icons, i am one myself pookies
word count: 2.9k
i‘m watching snapcubes sonic fandub while writing so i‘m sorry for any lack of braincells in this one
„furina i… i really don‘t know if this was a good idea…“
it was currently 8:47pm on a saturday night and you were stuck in a lesbian bar to which your friends furina and navia dragged you to, insisting it‘s a… great way to get you started!
one hour later navia sneaked off to talk to the purple-haired bartender and furina just nervously checked her phone every few minutes while she seems to be friends with quite a lot of todays visitors.
and you? you just stared holes into your cocktail you didn‘t touch for a single time. debating wether or not you should excuse yourself and drive home. you felt a little out of place here in this small community.
finally, furina‘s phone blinked up and her eyes widened before they found yours, a mischievous grin slowly spreading over her face.
she planned something. no wonder she kept checking her phone every few minutes.
„oh, this was a fantastic idea… you really thought i‘d just drag you here for fun…? i actually got the perfect match for you.“, patting herself on the shoulder for how good her plan seems to go so far, you wanted to choke her.
„that is not what we talked about-!“
„oh, this is exactly what we talked about! i pinky promise you will like her! she is an entomologist at the nearby institute, can name every insect and spider by a simple look and-“
„o-okay, okay, I get it-! still, i would have liked a little warning!“, you bent over the table to pinch her into the cheek.
„ow-ow-ow!! i-i knew you‘d have dipped if i told you about it-! now let got o-of me-!“, you sighed as you freed furina‘s cheek from your deathgrip and looked back down into the distorted reflection of your face in your drink.
„i‘m still new to all this so-“, you halted mid sentence when you noticed that the seat in front of you was suddenly empty, even her drink was gone.
oh this little-
„furina wasn‘t exaggerating when she told me about you being good on the eyes…“, a rather deep female voice spoke up behind you over the music before she came into view.
and all you wanted to do is get on your knees and thank furina over a million times for forcing you out of your apartment today.
because it was so worth it for the woman currently standing before you.
with her white-black hair being put up into a rather not so tidy bun, down to the fancy silken shirt being half unbuttoned… and the tattoos running both of her hands up to her forearms before disappearing underneath the fabric.
what in the world.
„i…“, you were forced to clear your throat before answering her, „y-yes… i think that would happen to be me…“, you looked her down once again. twice again. thrice again.
„sweetheart, if you‘re done undressing me with your eyes, i would love to get us both out of here. i‘m not exactly a fan of bars and clubs…“, flashing you a short smile, she put both her hands into the pockets of her pants.
„i- o-oh, goodness i-i‘m so sorry-! let me just-“, quickly gathering your stuff, you threw your jacket over your shoulder and got up from your seat, „good to go now-!“.
„and i haven‘t even properly introduced myself to you… a little excited, hm?“, she chuckled lowly before holding our her hand to you, „peruere. and your name is…?“, she couldn‘t help but let a chuckle slip past her lips at your almost humiliated expression.
that smile was driving you fucking insane.
„my uh name is [name]! it is nice meeting you, peruere-!“, taking her extraordinarily warm hand into yours and giving it a light squeeze, suddenly leaving your apartment for tonight sounded like the best idea ever.
„the pleasure is all mine. now shall we get going…? it is a little too crowded in here for my taste…“.
peruere turned out to be a pleasant conversation partner. whatever topic you choose, she had a vast knowledge on almost everything and a charismatic touch to it too. it also came to your attention that she has three adopted children, a son aged 13 and a set of 16 year old twins.
„may i ask how you realized that just… men were not for you? that is a huge realization after all, not everyone can so easily come to term with.“, taking a turn with you to the left leading slowly to the exit of the park you were currently strolling around.
„it was… a little scary to be fair… but after countless failed relationships and dates, i slowly started to maybe consider that i‘m just not really interested in men. and after i went on yet another date i realized mid conversation that this is just… not for me? if that makes any sense… furina and my other friends certainly didn‘t seem surprised at all on the other hand, which was… a little embarrassing if i am being honest.“, you scratched the back of your head as you nervously laughed your own words off.
but peruere just looked straight down at you, not a hint of amusement in sight at your story, „it‘s not embarrassing at all. sometimes you have to try things out and make a few wrong choices before coming to the conclusion that you maybe have to handle things differently. you are not weird for discovering yourself fully in your mid twenties. look, my youngest son ist 13 years old and just now realized that he in fact does not like his astrology themed bedroom… after we had it completely decorated from ceiling to floor. guess we have to go for the undersea theme he has been wanting so dearly now. that is just part of growing up.“, she couldn‘t help but shove a few strands of your hair behind you ear.
„just like i am now realizing how beautiful you actually look in this particular light…“.
your body felt suddenly too hot for the clothes you were wearing, you weren‘t used to such… personal compliments from an almost stranger. even tho you never had as much chemistry with your previous dates as you did with her…
„y-you really are too sweet…w-we barely know each other, yet you speak to me as if it were ages…“
„i‘m not a fan of idle chitchat were i‘m simply listing up my favorite colors and how many steps it takes me from my bedroom into the bath.“, she is crossing her arms now and blowing a bit of her own hair out of her face.
„well… i would still like the answer to both of these things…“
something flashed up in the much taller woman‘s eyes.
„red and 14.“
you didn‘t know how the both of you made it to your apartment complex without clawing your clothes off. as soon as the elevator was closed, she was all over you. hands grabbing onto whatever curve they could as her lips moved against yours in an almost sexual manner. sucking on your tongue before pushing her own inside your mouth, teeth clashing together as if she wanted to eat you right up. your mixed saliva was running down the corner of your mouth when the elevator reached its destination.
„forgive me my… urgent behavior… it has been a while since i left the house for something like… a date…“, she stepped away from you, but not before wiping your chin clean of any spit with her thumb and stepping aside, „be so kind and lead the way, dear.“.
you just laughed her off as you walked into the hallway to your door, already fishing out the keys, „really this long…? i guess coming around is a little difficult with three kids to take care of and a career.“, sticking the key now into the hole and twisting it.
„it‘s not exactly something i mind. i choose to adopt them willingly. sure, a little more time to myself would be nice from time to time… but being a father has been nothing but fulfilling to me. i just wish lyney would stop setting things on fire for his magical tricks…“, she followed you inside your lofty abode, immediately taking her shoes off.
„that sounds… not really fun to worry about…“, you barely hung up your jacket when peruere‘s hand wrapped around your waist, tugging you back against her. hot breath hitting your ear as she leaned down to your height.
„i have something much better on my mind right now anyways.“, pressing a gentle kiss to your ear that sent shivers down your spine, „which way is your bedroom, lovely…?“
„it‘s right at the end of the hallway… i just…“, you looked completely embarrassed away as you turned around, a light blush adorning your cheeks as you avoided eye contact.
„since i uh… did not expect this evening to take such a… turn… i did not take any appropriate measures beforehand…“
that woman looked never more puzzled in her life.
„as in…?“
„i did not shave…“, it was barely an inaudible mumble.
„excuse me, i did not quite catch that… try speaking up a little.“, she almost looked a little amused.
repeating yourself never felt more embarrassing, „i… did not shave… i‘m sorry…“
silence.
„get your ass into that bed.“
she might as well just slapped you across the face.
„i- how?? isn‘t that the standard?“, you were literally getting shoved into the direction of your bedroom.
„if you think a bit of body hair is scaring me off, then i must disappoint you.“
as soon as you reached your bedroom, she was already fumbling with the buttons of your shirt.
„i-it‘s just that my previous dates were usually never fond of it-!“, a moan slipped out your mouth as she suddenly found her lips plastered on your neck, licking and sucking and search of your most sensitive spot.
her next words came out slightly muffled against your skin.
„they must have been cowards.“
the next moments were a mess of clothes just getting ripped off of you and herself unti you were left in nothin but half opened bra as peruere left a trail of hot and greedy kisses down your stomach.
„relax and lay back for me. mhm… just like that…“, watching you as you laid back on your mattress only to feel her parting your legs and throwing them over her shoulders, you soon felt her lips caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs.
„so beautiful… all ready for me… don‘t mind if i do…“, she didn‘t give you the chance to reply before she buried her head between your legs, tongue lapping up and down your folds and making sure to savor every drop of your arousal, prying your lips apart with her two fingers as she plunged her tongue finally into your aching pussy. she had you gripping the sheets with one hand her hair with the other in a matter of seconds. one moan after the other stumbling out of your mouth as quite literally fucked you with her bare tongue, her own groans of pleasure being drowned out by your cunt. she was treating you like a gourmet dinner, and holy mother on earth- you never experienced anything like this. she had technique, rhythm, everything. when she slipped the two fingers that were spreading you apart for her tongue, inside of you, it was as good as over of you.
it took her merely a few experimental thrusts and curls of her hands before she found an enjoyable rhythm for you, and your g-spot along with it. with her mouth now wrapping around your already sensitive clit, you were hanging by a thread. her name was everything occupying your mind while you were swiped empty of anything else other than the woman feasting on your pussy like she has been starved for the past centuries.
with the occasional spread of her fingers inside of you and her digits rubbing your sweet spot to mush, it unsurprisingly did not take long for you until your legs were quivering around her head, your juices spilling right over her fingers, you were technically fucking her face.
„mh-“, she allowed you to let you ride out your high on her hand before slowly rising back up from between your legs and withdrawing her fingers.
„my… such a good girl… that certainly looked like it felt good, didnt it?“, licking over her lips before moving her soaked fingers up to her mouth, she didn’t break eye contact when putting her fingers between her lips to lick them clean of any of your remains.
holy mother of god.
you could only stare. panting. leaking. as she swirled her tongue around her fingers, even having the guts to slightly moan at the taste of you.
did she plan on killing you? because it was working.
„my… out of words, dove…?“, slowly letting her gaze glide over your shaking figure, a slight smirk tugged on the woman‘s lips. she was satisfied with the results of her works.
when you nodded lightly to her question she chuckled, „adorable… the chances are low, but you don‘t happen to own a strap-on do you?“
another reason to thank furina. she thought it was a funny idea to gift you one as your „coming-out-gift“. you thought she was being ridiculous. now you couldn‘t stop praising her in your mind.
„a-actually I do… left nightstand, l-lower drawer…“, you watched her hum in delight as she followed your instructions.
„now isn’t that just convenient for the both of us…“, peruere eyed the harness for a few seconds before it was buckled on around her hips with nothing more than a few smart handgrips. this woman couldn’t get any better. right…?
„my love, you are staring again.“, now laughing slightly as she leaned over you, a hand running down your thigh before pushing it up against your chest, you soon felt the tip of the dildo pressing against your drenched entrance.
„i just… i-i‘m just wondering… hah… what about y-your pleasure…? let me return the favor- ah-!“, peruere looked down at you as if you just said the cutest thing in the whole world as she pressed the tip inside.
she only spoke up after grabbing your chin and adding a few more inches into your clenching cunt.
„my pleasure? this. this right here…“, she slowly bends down to your face as you felt the tip kissing your cervix. you were now panting and whining right into her face.
„…is my pleasure.“, dragging her hips back before thrusting them right back into you as the older woman watched you fall apart underneath her with each of her movements, she angled her hips differently with each thrust, trying to see which one you enjoyed most before picking up the pace.
everything was too much. her hitting your sensitive spot with each fuck of her hips back against yours. the hungry and desperate kisses she was showering you in. her free hand pulling and massaging your tit. it was simply too much for you. you had plenty of men before her but none of them ever cared to make you feel this fucking good. to make you moan right into the kisses she was drowning you in until you were gasping for air, running your hands through her messed up hair. then grabbing onto her toned shoulders when you begged her between soft whines and desperate pleas to fuck you harder. to show you what you have been missing out on with her.
she did not stop after you came a second time. nor after the third time.
you were all sobby and sweaty by the time she had you propped up in her lap, ramming her hips into yours while she gently encouraged you to ride her.
„just like that, doll… look at how great you are doing for me. does that feel good hm? i‘m sure it does… just look at how drenched my lap is in your arousal.“, she reached up to pull you into a hot kiss by your neck.
„one more, my pretty thing. you can do that for me. can‘t you?“, whispered words against your lips before pulling you right back against hers. her free had guiding you by your ass over her dick as you poor fucked out thing could do nothing but ride her like a good girl. she is going to have so much fun with you in the future. she still had to show you so many things, you surely want to experience it all with her.
right?
she quickly recognized your body growing shakier and weaker once again „mhm, that‘s right, come all over my lap…“
and you obliged. not like you had any other chance.
she let you calm down first, coming into your ear before carefully lifting you off of her lap.
„so good… now relax while i am cleaning up our mess, alright?“
you managed a soft smile and thumbs up. you weren’t capable of more right now.
all hail to furina.
#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#x reader#genshin arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#arlechinno genshin#genshin smut#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#lesbian#sapphic#wlw#arlecchino smut#genshin women x reader#genshin women smut
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You said you were gonna grow up (then you were gonna come find me) ⭐︎ S.H.



⭐︎ Warnings: slight angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood best friends to lovers, allusions to cheating (but not really), mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited love, hurt/comfort
⭐︎ Summary: You and Steve used to be inseparable, best friends since childhood, you shared something special, something rare. You promised each other forever but... promises are never to keep... right?
⭐︎ Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
⭐︎ Word count: 10k
⭐︎ Author's note: To my Steve girlies who have read (and still mourn) I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss -- in the middle of writing this little oneshot, I noticed that Steve and reader reminded me of someone, and then I realized that it's basically Steve and Cheer in a different universe (if Steve hadn't fucked up as badly as he did). This is... what they should have been.
Also shoutout to @hellfire--cult for inspiring me to finish this oneshot (finally) and @ghost-proofbaby thank you for picking a title for me, and for your sweet words about this little piece, you're both the bestest
⭐︎ my library
divider by @saradika (I screamed when I saw the folklore dividers)
♡
The smell of weed and smoke lingers in the air, music blares through the house and bounces off the walls, laughter and giggles come from every corner, conversations he couldn’t care less about yet listens in on because what else is there to do at a party?
Steve once found himself at home in such gatherings, now he feels nothing but bored as he watches the people instead of interacting with them like he once used to do.
He used to be on the dancefloor, at the keg stand, pressing some girl against the wall and kissing her neck before taking her upstairs into one of the empty bedrooms – but those days are long over and they are not to be missed, not in the slightest.
Now he is sitting out in the backyard of some stranger’s house, sipping on a lukewarm soda and waiting for Robin to get sick of this party so he can take her home before going to his empty house and crashing out on his new bed. Seeing as she’s jumping around on the dancefloor with Vickie, it doesn’t seem like she'll want to leave anytime soon.
A sigh falls from his lips and he slumps his shoulders in boredom.
He could be socializing, talking to girls, flirting with them, with the ones who keep waving at him and sending him suggestive, overly sweet looks – he isn’t interested. The past few months were wasted ones, disastrous dates, one or two meaningless hookups, girls who weren’t interested in him but only in sex – that was his reality and he didn’t want that anymore, he doesn’t want that anymore, he wants something real, he wants to feel something, he wants someone to want him for more than just that one thing, he wants a connection, a bond, he wants… you.
Steve’s lips part, his eyes lighten up, glowing just like the stars in the night sky, he sits up straighter and cranes his neck to see you better, his heart skipping in a way it hasn’t in a long time, he forgot what it feels like… but of course you are the one to remind him of the way his heart can skip and flutter when he feels something, you have always been the one, the only one.
Not even Nancy could make him feel half of the things you could make him feel.
But he blew his chances with you – the only chances that ever mattered.
He hears your laughter, your beautiful giggles that he missed every day since you left, even from all the way here, he can hear the voice that accompanied him throughout most of his life… until it didn’t.
You were his best friend, the only friend that mattered until he found Robin. You were with him from the moment your mothers introduced you both to each other, joined at the hip, you went through it all together, different hobbies, different friend groups, first crushes and rough school days, arguments with so called friends, first parties, first drunken nights, you went through so much and you did it all together, you experienced everything together.
Steve would sneak into your room, late at night, he would use the vines on the wall as a ladder, no matter how many times you scolded him, he still climbed up because he wanted to see you so desperately, even when he spent the whole day with you, it just wasn’t enough, you’d spent the nights whispering and talking about the newest gossips, sometimes he would paint your nails or braid your hair, sometimes you would just lie next to each other and listen to some new album and sometimes you would cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms, it was a regular thing, it was something constant.
But then something changed, you both got curious, you both started acting upon feelings that have been there for a long time already, feelings that were no longer innocent and childish turned into something more.
You were each other’s first kiss, it was nothing more than a peck at first… and then it was a second and a third before you kissed for real. And then, it was just another regular thing, you started cuddling and kissing every night, smiling and giggling through it all, holding hands and pulling each other closer and closer.
Those innocent kisses turned into makeout sessions and those turned into your first time.
It was his first time and yours, you shared it with each other, like you shared everything else together.
It was filled with nervous giggles, blushing cheeks and shaky touches, you were both scared to do something wrong but you assured one another and you both did your best, he took care of you and you of him. It was slow, it was soft, it was perfect. A night he will never forget.
Nothing ever came close to this moment, nothing came ever close to how you made him feel.
Steve should have asked you out after that night, he should’ve, but he didn’t, he chickened out, he got scared and he left the next morning without saying goodbye. That was his biggest mistake.
To this day, he doesn’t know how you felt about it all, you never spoke of this night again, you never mentioned it again, you both acted like nothing happened, you continued your friendship like you didn’t ruin it.
He kept coming over, everything stayed the same… but it didn’t.
You started slipping away from him and he was too busy to notice, he became captain of the basketball team, girls started noticing him, he started going on dates even though you were all he could think about, it felt wrong to hold their hands, to kiss them, to touch them, he felt as though he was betraying you but his new friend Tommy encouraged him, spoke lies into his ear about how you went on dates on the nights you canceled on him.
He was hurt, he was angry, and it only was a matter of time before he invited a girl who wasn’t you into his sheets.
He hated how he felt afterwards, but he didn’t stop, he kept going and before he could even blink, he was the most popular boy in school, he was King Steve, the guy who could have anyone but still only had eyes for one.
Though your shared nights became less frequent, you still spent time with him, even when you weren’t fond of Tommy and Carol, his big parties or the way he treated girls, you were still there and it bothered him that he couldn’t have you.
It was clear that you didn’t feel the same, despite the many signs that he had missed at that time. He was your best friend, just your best friend, just Steve. He could’ve made a move, he could've asked you out on a date, he could’ve finally confronted you about your night together and how you felt about it, how you felt about him, but he was scared and it was ironic really, because he was good with girls, very charming and cocky, smug and arrogant but not with you, no, not with you. You made him nervous, you made his chest feel weird, his stomach too, you made his heart race and flutter, you made his skin feel hot and his mind all crazy.
You got him bad.
You made him fall in love.
But he was a coward when it came to his feelings for you, he really was, he didn’t even want to admit them to himself, so he watched you slip through his fingers instead of taking action and making you his. His feelings got stronger despite the distance that slowly grew between you.
You were still there, physically, but your mind was somewhere else and you seemed so far away.
He left notes in your locker, just like he did when he was a kid.
And you did the same to him.
You waved at each other from afar and shared smiles, you still drove around town and sang along to your favorite songs after an occasional trip to that one diner out of town, you sometimes slept over and left your sweet scent on his pillows, driving him crazy with it. You were still each other’s best friends.
But then Nancy stepped into his life and that was it, at that point, it was already crumbling, your friendship was hanging by a thread and it earned its final blow when you moved away for college.
Occasional calls and letters were all that existed between you at that point, it drove him crazy, it made him sad. He suffered heartbreak when you were gone and you weren’t there to mend it, you weren’t there to hold him, to wipe his tears and tell him that he would be alright – how could you? You were the reason for that heartbreak and Nancy was the one who gave him the final push to open his eyes to the feelings he kept pushing away and feeling so scared of.
When he realized what a mistake he had made, it was far too late to fix it and he never stopped regretting the actions he took and didn’t take.
But now you are here, you are back.
He hasn’t heard your voice in so long, he hasn’t seen your beauty in forever, he missed your presence so dearly.
One year, one whole year without you.
Are you here to stay for the summer or are you back for good? He hopes it’s the latter, this town felt anything but home without you here.
Steve stares at you, he stares and stares without shame. His lips are curled into a soft smile, his cheeks already blushing as he takes you in.
You are so gorgeous.
A confident smile is lingering on your lips, your makeup is a little bolder than it used to be, back then, but it suits you, your skirt is short, your top is tight, your cleavage is showing and your skin is glowing, your hair is much longer than he remembers it to be, a few highlights added to your pretty hair color and styled into waves.
You have always been a sight for sore eyes, he was aware of your beauty from a young age, he called you his princess, his sweet, cute and beautiful princess. But you are more than just beautiful now, you are stunning, bewitching, you are heavenly.
His heart jumps at the sound of your giggle, his skin heating up so rapidly that it catches him off guard.
Steve watches you, he watches for what feels like forever, you’re here with friends, girls you used to hang out with back in high school.
The smile never leaves his lips as he keeps his eyes on you, his heart fluttering more and more each passing second, eyes continuing to light up at every sound of your giggle.
When you step away from your friends and walk back into the house, he wastes no time to follow, grabbing the chance that he once missed, he goes after you and leaves his drink abandoned on the floor.
He brushes past a group of guys playing beer pong, dodging the dancing people on the dancefloor, keeping his eyes on your body as he follows. Your skirt is swaying, your waves are bouncing, your hips are shaking slightly, your sweet scent lingers in the air and he can’t help but inhale it deeply, it’s still the same scent that he missed on his pillows and the hoodies you used to steal.
With your back turned to him, you stop in front of the snack table and pour yourself a cup of the overly alcoholised punch.
Steve doesn’t approach you right away, standing by the doorway, he decides to watch you for a second longer, feeling giddy and nervous now that he is so close to you again.
You nearly choke on the punch, the bitter taste of alcohol overpowering the fruity taste, you scrunch your brows together and swallow it down in disgust, unimpressed by this drink after all the different kind of cocktails you have tried in the past months on your night outs to bars with your girlfriends from college.
A sigh falls from your lips and you take a second, much needed sip.
It feels weird to be back home in Hawkins, the town is much quieter than the big city you called home for the past year and you feel that weird tingly shudder on the back of your neck, knowing that he is so close somewhere.
Steve.
You miss him so much, you miss him everyday, but it’s been so long, you can’t even remember the last time you have talked to him. You know that he still works at Family Video and his friend Robin moved into his house with him after his parents moved away from Hawkins, for good.
But that’s all, you don’t know if he is single or if he is dating – you fear your heart wouldn’t take the information very well, which is ironic really, you haven’t seen him in so long, all you have are your memories, some of which you kept in a shoebox under your bed, pictures, notes, letters and little presents from him. Steve was nothing but a ghost these past months and yet it didn’t stop your heart from falling deeper in love… even with just the boy in your memory, the one that will haunt you for the rest of your life.
A sigh falls from your lips as you look down at the red beverage in your cup, you close your eyes and take another sip and swallow it but this time in delight, you welcome the burning in your throat.
“You still make that cute face when you don’t like something.”
The voice you have just been thinking about sounds deeper than it did when you left.
Those shudders at the back of your neck, run down your spine and transform into heat across your whole body, your heart skips a few beats.
You turn to face him, sloshing the drink around in your cup, you nearly spill it on the white tiles beneath you. Your breath hitches in your throat and your chest tightens when you look at him for the first time again, those hazel eyes that you have missed so much staring back at you with excitement yet nervousness and you have no doubt that your own eyes match the look in his.
Your lips curl into a shy smile, your cheeks heat up so quickly and you nearly crush the plastic cup in your hand when you let your eyes roam his body. He somehow got even taller, his arms look stronger and his shoulders wider, his hair got longer too, a spitcurl hanging over his forehead, his cheeks are rosy, a stubble covering his jaw and chin, your eyes move down his arm, stopping at the black hair tie around his wrist that momentarily steals your breath away and fills your chest with hope. You lick your lips and swallow as you stare at the veins in his hands.
There he stands with his stupid, still perfectly styled hair and his Levi’s that are always way too tight around his crotch, looking down at you and reminding you of how much taller he is and always was.
“Hey,” he breathes, nervously, happily.
“Steve,” you say with a smile on your lips, “hi.”
Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know what to say, your heart is beating so hard, he can feel it in his throat, he feels so nervous, you make him nervous. His charm, his flirtatious side still fades into nothing when he is around you and the world around him still disappears when he is with you, some things truly never change.
He wants to take a step closer and wrap his arms around you, he wants to hug you and never let go again but he doesn’t want to overstep so he forces himself to stay in place.
“Y-You’re back,” he smiles, trying to hide his excitement.
You nod, probably a little too quickly.
“Yeah, I’m back,” you nod again, feeling awkward and tense standing here before him after all the countless nights you spent thinking, dreaming about him.
He breathes heavily and fidgets with the hair tie around his wrist, “for the summer or…?”
You shake your head, unable to look away from his beautiful eyes.
“No, I-I transferred to uh the community college here…” You scrunch your face up when you see the surprised look on his face. “I know, lame right? Moving away from Chicago and back to your hometown is uh not the.. move.”
Not the move? He repeats in his head.
This might be the best day of his life – the day he had been waiting for, for your return.
Steve’s eyes widen, he purses his lips as he starts shaking his head, raising his hand a little, he steps closer to you.
“No! No, I’m just surprised, that’s all, I didn’t think you’d ever come back… honestly,” he chuckles nervously and brings his hand up to scratch the side of his neck. “But I’m happy to see you back here again.”
Happy is an understatement, the feelings in him can’t be put into words, they do not exist.
Your eyes soften at his words, your smile transforming into a soft one, hope swirling inside of you.
Did he miss you like you missed him?
“I’m happy to see you,” he adds, his cheeks heating up at his admission and your beauty doesn’t help his case, his eyes roam your body, your pretty features, your soft skin, the chain around your neck that looks oh so familiar, his heart starts beating faster, his hands shaking from the giddiness lingering in him. “Y-You look…” Stunning, mesmerizing, gorgeous, sexy, adorable, like an angel or a goddess. “Amazing.” He breathes, blushing red.
Your eyebrows pull together as your wide eyes fill with emotion.
You see the way he looks at you, you see the redness in his cheeks, the shyness in his eyes that surprises you the most.
You take a shaky breath, cursing at the way your cheeks heat up and glow so hotly.
“Thank you,” you say without stutter, to your own surprise. “You don’t look bad yourself, Harrington,” you smirk at him, smugness taking over your blushing features when you see him looking down in nervousness.
Did you just make Steve blush?
You open your mouth again, feeling the urge to compliment him again when a whistle interrupts you and wipes the smirk off your face, instead a look of disgust takes over your features when you turn your head to see Tommy Hagan looking you up and down with a perverted smile on his face.
He pushes his way between you, earning a glare from Steve, whose face turned stone cold and angry. Tommy grabs a red solo cup and pours himself some of the punch while he continues to give you nasty looks, chuckling when looks at your cleavage, “shit, now I get why Harrington always kept his favorite toy to himself,” he smirks and takes a sip of his drink before he steps back to wink at Steve, wiping his chin and looking back to you, “you really grew up.”
Your lips curl downwards, your brows pull together in a frown.
“Dude, what the fuck,” Steve frowns at him, giving him a disapproving look.
Tommy always made you feel uncomfortable with his comments and his weird looks, but it was something else back then. This is new, this is disgusting.
“If I knew back then that you were hiding these behind your sweaters, I would’ve definitely hit it,” he chuckles darkly as he stares at your boobs.
Bile rises in your throat and your grip tightens on your cup, the urge to throw your punch into his face growing strong.
Steve rolls his eyes, a frustrated sigh falls from his lips and he steps towards his former friend, he places his hand on his chest and pushes him back as he takes a protective stance in front of you, protecting you from Tommy’s prying eyes.
“Alright, that’s enough, asshole,” Steve mumbles angrily. “Leave her alone or I swear to–”
“You swear to what, man? You and I both know you can’t do shit,” Tommy laughs at Steve, his eyes crinkle in amusement, irritating Steve further.
Steve might’ve lost most of his fights, but he wouldn’t lose one if it came to you.
He clenches his jaw and glares down at him, feeling rage burn within him.
“Seriously dude, get lost, alright?” He demands, his voice sounding deeper, more serious than before.
You look over Steve’s shoulder, feeling safe and protected by him, the way you always did, just even more now. Your stomach flutters with warmth, your heart swelling in your chest.
To your surprise, Tommy steps away without another word, continuing to chuckle at Steve and the glare on his face. He gives you another look.
“Call me if you–”
“Fuck off, Tommy,” Steve says through gritted teeth, feeling hot rage flushing through him.
Tommy takes another sip as he walks backwards, winking at you before he finally turns around and leaves the kitchen, allowing you to finally breathe.
Steve runs his fingers through his hair and huffs, turning back to you, his features instantly soften.
“I’m sorry about him.”
You shake your head, your smile reappearing again, “it’s not your fault,” you shrug, “some people just never change.”
“Yeah…” He mumbles, wondering if you changed at all, “did you?”
Did you change? You ask yourself. Maybe, surely college has shaped you in some way, being away from home, being independent and all alone, meeting new people and being pushed into situations you would have never allowed as a teenager, did change something in you.
You got more confident, a little bolder too, you tried new things and did them without shame, something that was once impossible when you were still here and an insecure teen.
You tilt your head to the side and give him a sly smirk, “why don’t you find out?”
The anger Tommy left him with fades away, the flirtatious tone in your voice catching him by surprise and you take it even further when you take a step closer to him after placing your drink on the counter, you look up at him with your big eyes that still drive him crazy.
He doesn’t remember you to be this flirty… this bold but he can’t complain, it makes the fluttering in his stomach feel so much more intense.
Steve’s lips curl back into a smile, he blinks at you, looking into your eyes intensely, with want and need – nothing changed, if anything, the magnetic force between you has intensified, even when there was mostly only radio silence between you both in these past months.
Steve licks his lips, a sliver of his confidence slipping back in when he sees the way you look at him, eyes roaming his face and his body. Though his cheeks are still burning and his heart is still racing, no matter how much confidence he can find within himself, you are still you, you are still the girl that holds his heart in the palm of her hand, the one who has him captivated in every way possible, the one who has had him wrapped around her finger, from a very young age. You aren’t just a girl to woo and impress for a single date, you aren’t someone he would forget if a conversation or a date went wrong, you are the one he always wanted to grow old with, to experience everything with, to spend a life with the one who is his everything – one wrong move and he loses it all… again.
He doesn’t bother to ask if you are with someone, if you are dating and taken, the thought is disturbing to his heart.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks as he slowly reaches for your hand and you allow him to take it when you slip your palm against his and give his hand a squeeze.
He nearly crumbles to his knees when he feels your soft touch again, it’s been too long. Your hand always fit into his so perfectly, like it was made to be held by him.
You nod, whispering a sweet ‘yes, please’. That’s all he needs to hear before he pulls you closer to his body, pushing you in front of him slightly, keeping a protective stance right behind you as he never lets go of your hand, basking in the feeling of having you so close again, of being able to smell your perfume again and the sweet scent of your body wash.
He rubs circles on the top of your hand, pressing his other hand on the small of your back as he pushes through the crowds of people. He leads you to Robin first, needing to make sure that she will get home safe without him. He finds her playing beer pong with Vickie and a few of their former bandmates from high school. He taps on her shoulder and when she turns around, Steve grows more nervous than before, because her eyes grow wide when she sees you next to him, excitement flashing in them and a big grin appearing on her face after a long moment of staring at you.
She knows all about you.
She knows all about his feelings and his regrets.
She knows how much he missed you.
She was there when he cried and never stopped talking about you.
So after greeting you, probably a little too enthusiastically, she moves closer to Steve, raising her eyebrows at him and giving him a teasing, yet pointed look.
“Go and don’t worry about me, Vickie can drive, she’s not drinking tonight.”
“You sure?”
She nods, her waves bouncing as she moves her head a little too quickly.
“Steve I’m fine, go and get your girl,” she winks at him, squeezing his shoulder before she moves back, giving him another look that says nothing but ‘i mean it, don’t fuck it up this time, this is your chance.’
Steve nods at her, smiling and feeling reassured by her. He holds your hand tighter and pulls you away before you can properly say goodbye to his friend that you only know from your days in high school. You look back at her to find her staring at the two of you, grinning from ear to ear, she raises her eyebrows at you, eyes glowing as she gives you a smirk and a small wave of her hand.
You feel a little confused by the teasing look on her face but smile and wave back at her nonetheless before Steve whisks you away and out of the room.
It isn’t weird to hold each other’s hand, to be back together in his car like nothing ever happened, like you never stopped doing this, like things are still normal between you. He makes small talk, it’s not awkward or weird, it’s… nice, anything is as long as you’re with him, even the silly jokes makes or how he tries to quote Shakespeare but fails miserably, he makes you laugh and you… you make him smile.
You stop by the gas station to grab a six pack and some snacks to share before you drive to the lookout, to the place you always went to when you wanted to be alone together.
You get comfortable on the hood of his car, as comfortable as you can get on the rough surface. It’s a little chillier out here in the woods, the wind that blows through the trees makes goosebumps arise on your skin. Steve, of course, has to use the opportunity to throw his jacket around your shoulders, rubbing your arms to warm you up as he moves close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin.
You feel something stir within you, something only ever he could make you feel.
You grab the denim and pull it tighter around you, glancing at him through your lashes, you feel your cheeks heat up when you find him staring at you already, a soft smile playing on his lips that you can see, even in this darkness.
“Thanks Stevie.” A grin tugs at your lips when his smile moves into a flustered one.
Steve licks his lips, he removes his hands from your body and busies himself with opening the beer bottles for you and him, “you’re welcome, honey,” he whispers, winking at you.
You look away from him with blushing cheeks, hiding the smile on your face as you tilt your head down but nothing goes unnoticed by him, he sees the flustered expression in your features, the cute smile you’re trying to hold back.
He scoots closer to you until his shoulder is pressed against yours, he offers you the opened bottle. You glance at his hand, taking in the size of it, how big it is, how his veins pop, how long his fingers are – it makes you squirm and clench your thighs together and he notices it, he looks down and he almost regrets it, almost. Your skirt has ridden up, it nearly covers nothing, at this point. Your skin looks so smooth, thighs so soft, he wants to touch them, kiss them, feel them wrapped around his head.
His skin heats up, his lower stomach tingles, he craves you, in every way possible, he just wants to… feel you, he wants to feel you close, he wants your skin on his, he needs to know that you are truly back.
Your touch sends shivers down his spine, it makes his stomach flip.
He blinks, looking down at the bottle he is still holding, watching the way your hand curls around it, fingers grazing his own. Your hand is so much smaller than his, the urge to compare the size of his own to yours growing strong.
“Steve?”
Your soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he blushes, cheeks burning maroon. He shakes his head a little, squeezing his eyes shut as he furrows his eyebrows, he removes his hand from your bottle, already missing the touch of your hand.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he runs his fingers through his hair, “I got a little uh… distracted.”
He instantly regrets it when his eyes fall back on your lap again, your giggle makes him blush even deeper, he eyes you from the side, watching the way you press your lips against the bottle, you take a sip, trying to hide the smirk on your lips.
He feels a sudden sense of nervousness rushing through him – here he is, in the presence of the girl of his dreams, the girl that slipped through his fingers, the girl that should be his and he is messing up. He begins to stutter, trying to distract himself once again, this time from your legs, from your soft skin, from how much he wants to touch and kiss you, from how beautiful you are but you make him stutter, you make it difficult for him to talk, you make it impossible for him to be smooth, to flirt with you the way he always did with other girls and suddenly, he is reminded of why he was always so scared of revealings his feelings to you, there was too much at stake, he didn’t want to lose you.
He always felt so pathetic around you, like a stupid kid in love, one that can’t talk to his crush without blushing, without stuttering.
And this is exactly what you always adored about him.
But he doesn't know it, he doesn’t even realize it, he doesn’t even see the way your eyes always light up, the way they soften as you look at him, the way you admire him.
Before he even takes a sip of his beer, he already feels like he is drunk, his skin is hot, his mind hazy, he feels happy, at ease, like he is floating, all because of you, you make him feel so… light.
He is drunk on you, without having touched you properly, your presence is enough.
He wonders how you are holding up, what emotions linger inside of you — you look so calm, relaxed.
You fall into a comfortable conversation, catching up on the things you have missed in each other's lives, since being separated. And while your eyes stay glued on the night sky, only glancing at him every once in a while, he watches you, with a fluttering feeling in his chest and a smile on his lips.
You laugh with each other, getting lost in the memories that you both start bringing up, joking and slapping each other’s shoulders softly as you start to tease one another about the stupid things that you both have done in the past.
You have changed, not only physically did you get even more beautiful, you got something that you didn’t have before, a boldness that you always admired others for. You used to be so shy, anxious to ask the simplest questions, too nervous to hold eye contact for longer than two seconds, even with him, sometimes. But now, despite you choosing to look at the sky instead of him, he can tell that you are not that shy girl anymore, who was afraid to look into his eyes. You are confident, comfortable in your own skin, not afraid to be you, not afraid to gaze into his eyes when you tilt your head to look at him.
He wonders what or… who caused it, the change in you.
Was it just the circumstances? The big city that pushed you out of your comfort zone?
New friends? Being on your own? Or… was it the experiences you have made in these past few months that have shaped you from an innocent, shy teenager into a confident, young woman?
His stomach churns at the thought of the things you have done while being away from home, or better yet, who you have done them with. He has no right to be upset about it, he knows it, yet he can’t stop the sinking feeling inside of him as he thinks of the hands that have touched your body or the lips that kissed yours, if you had dated someone, if you are someone else’s right now.
The question tumbles from his lips before he can even stop himself.
“Do you have anyone?”
The storm that was just raging in his mind, the string of questions that followed now silenced as he stares at you, waiting for your answer with a racing heart and clammy hands.
The sound of crickets and the rustling of the trees are the only sounds now filling the space around you.
“You mean… a boyfriend?”
He nods and you shake your head at that. You bring the bottle up to your lips, taking a much needed sip.
“No, I don’t,” you murmur as your eyes roam his face, “why?”
You notice the frown on his face, the way his lips are curled down and his eyebrows are tightly scrunched together.
“Just wondering… someone like you still single?”
“What do you mean…?” You ask slowly.
Steve huffs, shaking his head with a smile on his face.
“I mean… Come on, honey. You’re funny, you’re smart and you’re just… you’re amazing,” he sighs adoringly, hazel eyes running up down and your face and your body. “You’re beautiful, a fucking catch.”
You almost want to scoff at his words, you want to roll your eyes and look the other way. A catch, right. A catch he never wanted. Your heart betrays you when it flutters and prompts a girlish giggle to fall from your lips.
“Stop.”
He nudges his shoulder against yours, grinning at your flustered face, “it’s the truth.”
Steve feels relieved to know that you don’t have anyone waiting on you, that there isn’t some guy out there that got the girl he always wanted.
“You have to say that,” you shake your head and drink the last drop of your beer before you throw the bottle down on the grass, making a mental note to pick it up later.
Because he is your best friend, because he was always your best friend, no matter what – so of course, he has to say these words to you.
He rolls his eyes at you, huffing, “I’m not just saying that.”
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, the way his words can make you feel like that shy teenage girl again, you try to steer the attention away from you.
You press your palm against the cold, almost icy hood, leaning back, you tilt your head to the side and gaze at him, loving how long his hair grew, how his features are more… manly now, though the boyish grin still lingers.
“What about you?” You whisper, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue. “Got anybody, Stevie?”
He shakes his head quickly, almost frowning at your question.
“Me? No… no one really… felt right.” He says with a look of longing in his eyes, the one that is only reserved for you.
The tension in your chest disappears, almost instantly, you have an idea of what you would feel like had the answer been a different one.
“I was seeing a girl… for a while but uh… like I said, it… she didn’t feel right,” he admits with a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach.
You nod, swallowing harshly.
“Why didn’t she feel right?” You’re aware of how small, how shaky your voice sounds.
You wait, wait and wait for him to answer your question, the answer he tries to find in your eyes as it seems because he won’t stop looking at you, it’s like he is searching for something, like he is trying to figure you out, like he is trying to make sense of the question you just asked.
He doesn’t give you what you want, as always, Steve Harrington pretends like nothing happened, like nothing had been asked.
But you know what he means, you know exactly what he means, you had someone too, back in Chicago.
He was nice, he was good to you, in more ways than just one but no matter how much you tried not to think of him, you always failed. He was always there, always in the back of your mind, always ready to haunt you and remind you that he is and will always be the only one that your heart will belong to.
Your relationship was only short lived, and you left him the moment you realized how unfair it was to stay with him when your heart was somewhere else, when you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve.
Something rustles in the bushes, something echoes loudly through the woods, something that would have normally made you flinch, doesn’t even faze you now because he is here. You feel safe in his presence, you always did, not even the darkest night or the loudest storm could make you feel afraid as long as he was by your side.
And yet, you scoot closer to him, not even noticing that you do until his fingers brush against yours and sparks shoot through your entire body.
And through his.
You clear your throat and take a deep breath, “yeah… I had someone… but he didn’t feel right either.” You say softly, vulnerably as you meet his eyes again.
A soft ‘oh’ leaves his mouth and he nods, looking down at the bottle in his hand, he brings it up to his lips and downs the rest of it. He feels his stomach churning, his insides crawling at the mere thought of you with someone who isn’t him and it makes him feel awful, it makes him feel ridiculous because wasn’t that his own fault? He blew his chances with you. He let you go, hell, he didn’t even fight for you.
He puts the bottle down, wipes his mouth and runs his fingers through his hair before he turns back to you to find you staring at him just the way you always did, with your big doe eyes, those pleading and begging looks you never stopped throwing at him.
He’d have to be blind to not see it – he always did, he just never allowed himself to admit it, not even to himself, not even when you were all he ever wanted.
“Why didn’t he feel right?”
Steve watches the way your lips curl downwards, the way you squint your eyes at him, the softness fleeing as you glare at him instead.
And suddenly, the air around you feels different, tense for another reason, heavy and filled with something neither of you ever addressed before.
While you take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself – Steve tries to mend the aching in his chest, the hammering that feels just too strong.
“Why didn’t she feel right, huh?” You ask, scooting away from him and getting off the hood, placing your feet back on the ground, you don’t even bother to smooth down your skirt. You cross your arms over your chest and stand in front of him, demanding the answer you tried to ask softly before.
Steve sighs, growing fearful and anxious, feeling like he is messing up yet again, like he is about to lose again.
But you are close, so goddamn close, even through the anger in your eyes, you still stand in reach, your knees now brush against his. He straightens his back, fighting the urge to reach for your hands and just pull you into him, showing you why no one ever felt right.
He promised Robin, he promised her that if you ever came back, he would go and get you, he would come clean about it all, he would make it all right again.
“This goes both ways, Steve. You can’t just ask me and then–”
“Because no one is you.”
He won’t fail this again, no matter how scared he is, he just can’t.
Your lips part in surprise, a painful look crosses your eyes, though the anger doesn’t fade away just yet. You uncross your arms, and shake your head at him.
His words should bring you joy, shouldn’t they?
But as you stand here before him, his knees brushing your own, his golden brown eyes staring at you with nothing but love, you can’t help but feel your heart aching because why now? Why not then?
“So… it took me to leave town… go to college… for you to say this?” You whisper, holding back a choke as your eyes well up with unwanted tears.
His own eyes panic when he sees just how much pain there is inside of you, how much you hid it. He reaches forward, taking your hand in his, he sighs in relief when you don’t push him away like he thought you would.
“It was always there. Before our first kiss, before our first time, and then it never stopped. But you were… you were scary. Feeling love that strong at such a young age– it wasn’t in my plans. I was scared… I was scared of loving you and losing you. It happened before.”
His parents.
He loved them unconditionally, he loved them no matter what they did and didn’t do, he loved them and he lost them – they abandoned him and then they forgot about him.
Your eyes show nothing but pain, your heart breaks, all over again, for him.
And you’re stunned, so goddamn shocked because that word fell from his lips. Love. He loved you.
You curl your hand around his, squeezing them tightly as he gets off his car, standing tall before you again.
“You… still could have–”
“Risked it?” Steve interrupts you, furrowing his brows as he looks down at you. “No… I wasn’t going to risk it. Risk losing you…” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself, “now I see how stupid that was because I lost you anyways.”
His eyes well up with tears, his voice almost cracks and you finally… finally get to see a glimpse into his heart, how much pain he was always hiding.
“No… I don’t think you lost me.”
“Honey, we haven’t talked in–”
“What you felt for me… Is it… Is it past tense?”
Steve should see the hope in your eyes, he should hear it in your voice too, but he is so scared, so nervous at this moment.
Everything he had always been afraid of was losing you because of his feelings and he can’t help but wonder, what if he confesses his love to you now and his saddest fear creeps in and he will lose you for good, forever?
“Why do you want to know?” He asks, shakily.
You hold his hands tighter, taking another step closer until you are chest to chest. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, you look up at him, begging with your eyes, yet again. “Because I deserve to know, Steve, do you still have feelings for me?”
He takes a long pause, feeling like his heart might explode, feeling like the ground might disappear beneath him if he doesn’t finally give you the whole truth.
His eyes flicker down to your lips, the ones he craved to feel on his own for years, his body aches for you just the way his heart does, desire running deep but love taking full control, driving both his heart and his mind insane over you. He feels the pounding from his chest to his throat, his eyes glossy with tears he shed so many times over you, over his regrets.
“Yes,” he whispers, already feeling his chest deflating as the pressure slowly sinks away, “like I said, they never stopped.”
Tears spill down yours and his cheeks, his shoulders slump in relief and you, you finally breathe. You sniffle and a giggle falls from your lips, one that makes him furrow his brows but smile because now he can see the happiness in your eyes, the joy from hearing this from him.
“Oh, thank god,” you whisper and throw your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest, you hug him tightly, catching him off guard.
It takes him a moment, it takes him a very long moment.
His glassy eyes are wide, his heart is threatening to break free from his chest. He wanted this, he wanted you for so long, he feels like this is too good to be true but when he feels your tears seeping through his shirt and how you cling to his body, like you are afraid that he might disappear if you let go, he finally relaxes. His eyes close gently, tears spilling down his cheeks, he melts into your touch and curls his arms around you, cupping the back of your head, he holds you closely, tightly.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head, he gives a first kiss again.
“I missed you, Stevie,” you murmur into his chest, holding onto his shirt.
He moves even closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you rise to your tippy toes, wanting to feel more of him, as though he isn’t close enough already, not even when your chest to chest.
Steve breathes in your scent, the one he used to sink his face into when it still lingered on his pillows, when he longed to feel you in his arms, when he craved you so badly but felt too cowardly to make the move he just made now.
You cling to one another, like you never have before, not even when he held you during nights you needed him the most, when you were both so convinced that you were nothing more than friends… when just friendship was never something possible between you.
Steve’s eyes are shut tightly, he is so lost in the feeling of you, feeling so warm, so safe, so loved in your embrace.
How can his heart race so fast yet feel so… calm?
You don’t know how much time passes as you stand there in each other’s arms, you are so lost in the moment, you couldn’t care less about anything around you, about the time, about your surroundings, about the world – only you and him matter, nothing more.
He cups the side of your face when you begin to pull away to look at one another, glossy eyes gazing into each other, lips begging to be connected. His fingers brush through your hair, he tucks your front pieces behind your ears and caresses your cheeks. His hazel eyes flash with adoration. You are so beautiful. It makes his heart clench in his chest.
You slide your hands up his chest, moving up to his neck and cupping his cheeks, your stomach growing with anticipation the closer you both move to each other.
No words are spoken, there is no need for them, your eyes tell everything, just like your touch when your lips finally connect.
Your hearts stop beating, time stops ticking, the world stops moving.
Everything around you stops.
Just absolutely everything.
Your eyes flutter shut, just like his.
A kiss you both never stopped craving finally happening, not only in your minds, but in reality.
Steve sighs in contentment, a whimper following close behind, your lips move slowly, softly with each other, you savor each and every second, even when you know that this is only the beginning of it all.
Nothing and no one could ever compare to this, no one could ever come between you, you are two puzzle pieces, ones that were made for only each other, no one else to match you both. It’s only you and him. Your hearts know, you know, he knows.
The way he kisses you so gently, so sensually, makes your stomach flip in ways it never did before, not even back then when you shared first and second kisses.
And Steve, he feels like he is in a dream that he never wants to wake from again, he is too scared to open his eyes and find himself in his lonely bed, surrounded by the scent of you that he only imagines, that forever lingers like a kiss upon his skin.
But your whimper is real, your lips are real, you are real, your lips taste just like they did before, sweet and peachy, like home.
You only pull away to catch your breath, smiling when Steve chases your lips with his own, nuzzling his nose against yours as a soft giggle falls from his puffy lips, “god… I missed you, princess.” He murmurs against your lips, knowing that he will keep repeating these words, over and over again, he feels like he has been blessed by the universe.
Your best friend’s eyes shine so brightly, the love in them that you always craved to see, is so evident, it’s all out in the open now, all in reach, all there for the taking – when not even a few hours ago, you didn’t even know where he was, if he still thought of you, if he still cared for you…
Tears escape your eyes and he wastes not second to catch them, to wipe them away and kiss your wet cheek.
“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, feeling like his heart might break, knowing that you have suffered just the way he did, when he thought that you moved on, that you had forgotten all about him just like everyone else did when that was never even the case, when all you did was long for him, love him, even from afar.
“I love you,” he whispers in relief, feeling like the weight of the world is off his shoulders, “I love you so fucking much, you’re my–”
You cup his cheeks and pull him down once again, kissing him deeply. “You.” Kiss. “Don’t.” Kiss. “Know.” Kiss. “How.” Kiss. “Much.” Kiss. “I.” Kiss. “Dreamed.” Kiss. “Of.” Kiss. “This.” Kiss. “Moment.”
Steve's heart flutters the way it never did before, butterflies go wild in his stomach, his eyes crinkle and he smiles so brightly, his cheeks hurt.
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you so much, Steve Harrington, you have no idea how much–”
His lips are on yours, pressed against them so strongly as he pulls you into another deep, passionate kiss before you can even finish your sentence. He kisses you in a way no one ever did before.
His thumbs linger on your cheekbones, his tongue parts your lips so effortlessly, your own clashing against his as the softness of your feelings disappears and transforms into something needy, hungry. This kiss is much faster, much rougher, much more passionate than the first, you get lost in it so quickly.
When he takes a step back and he sits back down on the hood of his car, he moves his hands down to your waist, pulling you in between his legs.
Your arms move around his shoulders, your hands get lost in his hair, fingers gripping it tightly as moans escape you. The kiss makes you feel so hot, your stomach burns, your skin feels like it’s on fire as his hands move up and down your back, slipping underneath his jacket that is still around your shoulders, under your shirt and then, he touches your soft skin with his cold hand, something that makes you shiver yet lean closer against him.
He moans against your lips, he is so intoxicated by you, needing more and more, like you’re his own personal drug. He could keep doing this, he could take you right here, right now. He could taste you, unravel you with his tongue, with his fingers, he could hold your hands and make love to you like he always wanted to, like he hoped he’d get to tonight – because he thought that this might be all he would get, a night with you, only that and no more, because how could you ever want anything more than this with him after all the times he messed up with you? After he let you slip through his fingers like it was nothing?
But this won’t stay a single night, this won’t be one that will haunt him for the rest of his life.
This will turn into more, so much more.
He doesn’t want to mess it up again, he wants to take it slow, he wants to give you everything you deserve, everything he craved to give you, all these years, everything he dreamed about, during the day and the night.
So as much as he wants this, you, your bare skin on his and your whimpers blessing his ears, you deserve more, you deserve to be taken on a date first.
“Hang on,” he whispers against your lips, cupping your cheeks again, his lips curl into an amused smile when he opens his eyes to see your smudged lipstick that is no doubt on his face now too, your hair a mess just like his own, “I want to… fuck… I want you so bad, I couldn’t stop thinking about this, about you. But I want to take it slow, I-I want to do it right this time, I want to take you on a date and–”
You cut him off with a kiss, once more. Pressing your lips against his plush ones, over and over again until it makes you both giggle. He grabs your waist and pulls you down on his lap, grabbing your cheeks, he presses his forehead to yours.
“Slow is good,” you whisper, caressing his cheek as his fingers run up and down your spine underneath the denim jacket. “I like slow.”
“Yeah?” He smiles.
You nod, though an almost sad smile makes its way on your lips, “you know, I kinda thought you forgot about me until all of this.” You wave your hand around, wiping at your wet cheek as a soft laugh tumbles from your lips.
You weren’t the only one who stopped calling, who stopped sending letters, he did too, but not for the reasons you thought, clearly.
A deep frown appears on his face, he tightens his hold on you, raising his hand up towards your face, he cups your cheek. Despite everything he just said, despite the kiss, you still don’t understand just how deep his feelings for you are, how his heart isn’t even his own because it is completely, devotedly yours.
“I could never forget you,” he whispers with a sad smile on his face, “you’re all I ever think about, now and then, even when we were kids, even when I was… King Steve,” he rolls his eyes at the nickname he used to be so proud of. “You never once left my mind, not once.”
The smile that makes his way to your lips makes his heart skip a beat, he kisses your cheek, letting his lips linger for a moment.
“So please, let me make it right, let me fix everything… go on a date with me?” He asks with nothing but hope in giddiness in his voice.
You squint your eyes and tilt your head, giving him a teasing smile as you pretend to think but his soft eyes make your teasing an impossible task at this moment, you wipe the lipstick off his mouth and nuzzle your nose back against his.
“I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie,” you whisper, feeling your heart burst from joy and love.
The one thing you always wanted, you always craved now finally happening, at a moment when you least expected it.
Coming back home made you so nervous, knowing that you would see him again after all this time of being apart, knowing that your feelings will only continue to grow, no matter the tie between you, filled you with a sense of… dread, because you couldn’t help but wonder – does he even want to see you?
But, to find out that he had spent every passing moment, thinking about you, about your past, wanting you back and willing you to come running back into his arms lights up everything inside you again – flames you have tried to put out, burning stronger than ever.
Steve’s eyes well up with tears of joy again, he cups the back of your neck, his lips brush against yours, he can’t even describe his feelings with words, so he doesn’t even try, but he shows you the happiness you brought back into his life, the happiness that was just gone when you were… gone. He kisses you, once, twice… He keeps kissing you, over and over again, unable to stop himself from going back in for more, consumed by love, by gratitude and happiness to know that you came back.
To know that you won’t haunt his what if’s.
He won’t chase your shadows wherever he will go.
Your scent won’t linger from just his memory alone.
He waited and waited, and he let the lamp burn and now… now you are here, you came back, you came back to him.
Here, at the lookout where you used to sit on your saddest days, you find your way back to one another again.
As you embrace the future written for you, you know that the rings on your fingers won't only be imaginary ones like the ones from your childhood.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington one shot#stranger things angst
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all the little things
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
summary: it’s the little things that paige and azzi miss about each other
a/n: i combined a bunch of different requests into one fic so it’s a little bit of a mess but like always, pls bear with me…also it’s been 1 year of me writing on tumblr which is crazy🙈 time flies so fast
word count: 2.8k
masterlist
Paige misses Azzi as soon as she disappears through the automatic glass doors. She cranes her neck, trying to follow Azzi’s increasingly small figure as she walks through the airport, but soon the crowds of busy travelers engulf her and Paige gives up.
She stares at her hands on the wheel, wondering how it’s even humanly possible to miss someone so bad that it feels like a part of her is gone too. Sighing to herself, she pulls out her phone, shooting a quick text asking Azzi to let her know when she boards and when she lands and when she gets home safely.
Azzi’s reply is immediate: you do know you have my location right
Paige bites back a smile, knowing she’d be tracking it regardless of whether or not Azzi texted. She shoots back a reply: god forbid a girl wants to make sure the love of her life is safe
Azzi: fuck, dallas already making you sassy as hell. should i be worried for the next time i see you
Paige: exactly this is why you should turn around and come back right now
Paige: i miss you already
Azzi sends her a selfie, lips puckered up into a kiss, brown eyes glimmering with amusement, and Paige almost drops her phone with how fast she fumbles to save it to her camera roll. She hearts the photo, sends back a quick selfie, and groans when the car behind her honks.
She checks her blind spot before pulling back into the left lane. Home seems like a weird name for her destination, an empty and unfamiliar apartment with only a bed frame and a couch and no one to share it with. Her heart twinges thinking about her teammates at Connecticut, her family spread across the states even further now, and the bittersweet feeling of starting over again in a new city.
Her phone lights up with one final notification, and she checks it briefly.
Azzi: drive safe honey. i love you
Azzi: and i miss you more. text me when you’re home
Paige smiles. The car ride isn’t too long, but she’s so lost in her thoughts she forgets to put the music back on. Azzi and her had always been in close proximity for the last four years, never really spending more than several weeks apart, and god, she’d fucking loved it, wouldn’t change it for the world, but now it’s even harder to be so many miles away when she’s used to seeing Azzi every day. Even the little things Azzi had done that she’d always used to roll her eyes and complained about, she misses now. Her heart clenches again.
•••••
Paige is dreaming about her next meal when she’s stirred into consciousness by a hand shaking her shoulder. Groaning, she rubs away the sleep from her eyes and dreamy remnants of In-N-Out burgers and Diet Cokes she swears she can taste. It’s been months since she’s been able to indulge in either, and she’s longing for the day season is over to be able to get her hands on both.
“Paige, honey, wake up.” Knuckles brush against her cheek, lingering in her warmth for a moment before trailing down to chuck her chin.
Paige is very much not a morning person, so she sinks deeper into the bed, pulling the sheets a little tighter around her head. Maybe if Azzi sees how deeply she’s sleeping, she’ll leave her alone.
“Paige. Get up.” Azzi’s losing patience, her tone becoming a little more demanding, and usually this is when Paige would roll over and let her girlfriend have her way, but she’d stayed up late the night before finishing up a discussion post and now she can feel the warm, lethargic fingers of sleep pulling her back into its heavenly state of nothingness. So, naturally, she makes the barely-conscious executive decision to cancel the early morning run Azzi had planned, and lets her eyes fall shut, succumbing to the weight of exhaustion.
Paige feels the bed creaking as Azzi slips off the edge, and she thanks God. She decides that when Azzi comes back, she’ll join her for the gym portion; after all, she’s a hooper, not a track star. Doesn’t make sense to waste her energy wearing down the pavement when she could save it for beating Azzi in 1v1s.
Yet Azzi is back in a matter of seconds, this time shaking Paige more insistently. “P, wake up.”
Not wanting to be the victim of Azzi’s wrath this early in the morning, Paige finally untangles herself from the mess of sheets, blinking as her eyes adjust to the piercingly bright yellow light now flooding the room. “Jesus, Az,” she mutters. “You didn’t have to turn every lamp on.” She runs a hand through her mess of hair, yawning tiredly. “What time is it?”
“3 AM.” Azzi at least has the decency to look a little bit guilty, her bottom lip tucking ruefully under her teeth.
“Azzi, what the hell.” Paige flops back into bed, attempting a dramatic attempt of feigning her return to sleep, but Azzi slaps her arm.
“I need to change my pad but I left all my extra ones downstairs.”
“Okay.” Paige grabs a pillow and starts suffocating her eyes with it, willing the light to go away. “Then go get it? Did you bleed through or someth—actually, don’t answer that. I’m way too tired to deal with changing the sheets, I’ll just sleep at the edge of the bed.”
“No, I didn’t bleed through. Chill.” Azzi says, voice strained. “But, like, you need to come with me.”
“What, you need someone to help you walk or sum? You’re not the one with the torn ACL,” Paige complains.
“Paige,” Azzi says exasperatedly, staring at her as if Paige could suddenly understand her logic behind waking her girlfriend up in the ass crack of night to go with her downstairs, but Paige just stares back, lost. “Paige,” she repeats, almost embarrassed as her eyes flick from the door to the blonde still sitting in bed. “It’s 3 AM. It’s dark and the house is making noises and there’s too many windows downstairs.”
“Windows?”
“Someone could be looking at me from outside and I wouldn’t even know it cause it’s so dark.”
“Azzi, you’re being ridiculous. No one’s standing outside.”
“That’s what all the victims who get murdered first in Criminal Minds say,” Azzi replies automaticaly. “God, you have zero survival instinct.”
“If I have zero survival instinct then why are you bringing me with you?” Paige grumbles, but she’s already standing up and slipping on a hoodie, already missing the body heat of her best friend and the warmth of her blanket.
Paige is too tired to argue when Azzi forces her to lead the way. Muttering under her breath, she pushes open the door and trudges across the hallway and down the stairs. She’s too lazy to take the extra steps to flip on the light switches, usually the type to stumble her way through the dark and inevitably bump into five different pieces of furniture, but Azzi demands requests her to use her phone flashlight to guide their steps, claiming that there could be someone hiding in the corner for all they know.
Once they reach the bathroom, Paige leans against the wall, finding relief in its sturdy support against her head. “Okay.” Azzi fingers the door handle nervously. “You’re gonna be here when I come out, right?”
“I won’t move at all,” the older girl promises, raising her hands in innocence.
“I’m serious, Paige. You can’t leave or I swear I’ll kill you.”
“Azzi, I swear to fucking god-,”
“Alright, alright,” sensing that Paige is close to reaching her last straw, Azzi closes the bathroom door behind her. As soon as she hears the lock clock, Paige leaves. But she heads into the kitchen, rummaging around the medicine cabinet for the bottle of Midol she knows is hanging around in there. Spotting the familiar unicorn heating pad on the couch, she grabs that and pops it in the microwave for a couple of minutes.
Azzi’s still in the bathroom when the microwave beeps, so Paige flops down on the fooor and curls around the unicorn, basking in its heat. She’s almost fallen asleep on the ground, which is honestly a lot more comfortable than it looks, when Azzi finally emerges, wiping her wet hands on her t-shirt. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “I had to poop.”
Shaking her head, Paige pushes the heating pad into her hands along with a couple pills. Azzi looks up at her gratefully. “Thank you.” Paige offers a lazy smile in reply, pressing a chaste kiss on her forehead before rushing them back into the room and into the bed.
Azzi bustles around the room for a little bit as Paige gets settled back into the sheets, arm thrown across her eyes. “You good, mami?” she murmurs once all the lights are back off and Azzi’s slipping into bed next to her. She feels a hand on her waist and a chin on her shoulder, and a faint whisper of an “i love you” before she’s fully fading into unconsciousness.
When Azzi wakes up four hours later, she spends ten minutes debating whether to wake up Paige with her. Well, five minutes to be exact - the other five are devoted to staring at Paige as she snores, pink lips slightly parted as she’s curled in her fetal position. She really is beautiful, her blonde hair almost a golden from the hazy sunlight falling through her open blinds.
Azzi decides to let Paige rest. She’s getting out of bed to brush her teeth when a hand curls around her wrist. “I think that midnight disturbance warrants a morning of sleeping in,” Paige says, voice raspy with sleep.
“You can sleep in,” Azzi says. “I still wanna run.”
“Nah, you’re staying. Can’t sleep without you.” Paige folds herself over Azzi, face snuggling into the crook of her neck, hip to hip with their legs intertwined, letting out a sigh of contentment as she relaxes into the younger girl’s body as if they’re one. And really, who would Azzi be to say no to her girlfriend?
•••••
Paige shakes herself out of her memories. Her chest feels heavy, yet she feels a little silly for getting all emotional about something as trivial and embarrasing as missing her girlfriend’s fear of the dark. Honestly, she should be glad she’ll now be able to sleep through the night without interruptions.
But Paige misses it anyways.
•••••••
Azzi walks through the airport, music blaring in her Bose headphones. She walks past a baggage claim and sees a familiar face on the TV, green and yellow streaked across the image. She smiles and takes a photo to show her parents later.
It’s still a little crazy for her to see her girlfriend’s face plastered across billboards and posters across her new city, a city that welcomed Paige like she’d grown up there. All these people passing by see her, but Azzi relishes the fact that there’s a part of Paige no one else knows, a part reserved solely for her.
•••••••
Paige has been unnaturally quiet all night, and it’s not like Azzi has been stalking her girlfriend, per se, but there’s always been a little part of her acutely aware of what the blonde is up to. The entire team, including the coaches and managers, are at Azzi’s grandparents house for their yearly pre-season barbecue, but the two of them haven’t been able to talk much all night - Paige has been chatting with the coaches, while Azzi was busy helping prepare food before getting thrown into a conversation with Caroline and KK for the past half hour.
KK brightens up when CD excuses herself to take a call, calling Paige over. “Come here Boogers, I’m telling a funny story.”
Paige hesitates for a second before making her way over to join their circle, slumping down into the cushion between KK and Azzi with a tired sigh. “You alright?” Azzi murmurs softly, instinctively leaning into Paige’s space and reaching to brush the hair from her eyes. Paige wordlessly offers a small smile of reassurance before turning her attention to KK’s monologue.
Azzi had stopped listening ten minutes ago, so she’s thankful when KK backtracks so she can give Paige context. Caroline is already out of it, staring at the carpet as she fiddles with her watch. KK’s saying something about the prank she’d plotted with Ice and played on the freshmen the week before, and usually Paige would be eating this up, hollering alongside the sophomore, but tonight she remains restless, nodding along but clearly only picking up half of what’s being said.
Mid way through her story, KK pauses, seeming to catch onto her older teammates’ lack of enthusiasm. “Paige, you aren’t even listening!”
Paige’s eyes snap up towards KK. “My bad, KK,” she apologizes, tone genuine. “Just tired.”
“Man, you’re no fun,” KK grumbles, flicking Paige’s forehead. “What’s up with you?” Paige tiredly swats back at her hand, and KK laughs, pushing back at her shoulder to try and initiate one of their many wrestling sessions they’ve been keeping a running tally of (Paige 9, KK 4).
“Alright, leave her alone,” Azzi defends, sensing that Paige is clearly not in the mood to fool around. “Go play with the freshmen or something.”
“Y’all gentle parent me and shit like I’m a kid,” KK mutters, but takes off to probably go find Sarah.
Paige leans back into the couch, head tipping back. “What’s up?” Azzi says softly, cupping the back of her neck and running her thumb alongside her jawline. Paige’s eyes flutter shut at her touch as she slowly exhales.
“Don’t know,” Paige admits. “Not feeling it today. Too much going on.”
Azzi plants a soft kiss on her temple, lingering and sweet. “Wanna take a break in the guest room?”
“Please.” Paige sends her a grateful look.
After making sure her girlfriend is good in the guest room, Azzi returns to the living room, where the entire team is now piled in and playing Mario Kart. Before long, they get bored and switch over to Fortnite. “Yo, someone get P,” someone calls out, knowing Paige would give them shit for hopping on without her.
Ice pops up, but Azzi waves her off. “I’ll go check on her,” she replies. It’s been an hour, so knowing the older girl is likely asleep, she opens the door quietly and tip-toes inside.
Paige is sprawled out in the bed, unmoving as she clutches a pillow to her chest, but her eyes are open. “Thought you were asleep,” Azzi whispers as she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “You been up this whole time?”
Paige flips over and looks at Azzi, grabbing her hand in her lap. The feel of Azzi’s hand, warm against hers, is comforting. “Yeah. Can’t sleep.”
“What’re you thinking about?”
Paige breaks eye contact to stare at the ceiling, mind clearly running. “I don’t know. I was talking to the media after practice earlier, and it - it was just a lot. There’s a ton of pressure and outside noise this season and I know I should be used to it by now but - I’m just tired of it all, you know?”
Azzi nods, quiet. Paige shifts over in bed, and Azzi takes the invitation to slip underneath the comforter and nestle in beside her. “I just can’t stop thinking about how much shit we need to do,” the blonde admits quietly, voice so soft Azzi has to strain to hear. “We lost to fucking Columbia last week. We were down by 14 in the second quarter and usually I can hype everyone up and keep maintaining that good attitude but this time, all I could think about was how much we still need to work on. Couldn’t even look at the other girls in the eyes. And I’ve been meeting up with some of the younger girls, tryna talk about what they need to work on and creating goals for the season and I don’t know, I’m just overwhelmed by all of it and I feel guilty.” Paige’s voice cracks on the last word, and she subconsciously clenches Azzi’s shirt as she buries her face into her chest. “I guess that’s why it’s hard for me to talk to them right now.”
“You don’t have to feel guilty,” Azzi says. “You’re doing a lot. It’s only natural to feel overwhelmed.” She runs her fingers through Paige’s scalp, gently messaging, and tension seems to escape her best friend’s shoulders. “But think about the good things. Ice and Jana are becoming more confident and aware in the paint, you can see it with every practice. Mo and Allie are having a hard time adjusting but god, look at Sarah. She could win a championship just by herself.�� Paige laughs a little at that, and Azzi takes that opportunity to start peppering her face with kisses. “The team’s becoming more cohesive by the week and I’m like, half a day away from coming back. And you know when I’m on the court, you don’t got anything to worry about,” Azzi says, her voice teasing.
“You sound like you’re joking but you’re right, you know.” Paige’s hand falls to Azzi’s knee, her palm closing over the scar like a shield. “Fuck, I’m actually counting down the minutes til you get cleared.”
“Yo, you guys decent?” KK barely waits a second before pushing the door open. “Azzi, we gave you one job, now you’re here all snuggled up in bed with Boogers,” she complains, taking in the scene with a wary look on her face.
“Should’ve let me go,” Ice grumbles from beside her.
Azzi groans. “If y’all don’t leave us alone we’re gonna start making out in front of you right now.”
KK, who’d been roaming around the room curiously, immediately turns on her heel, grabbing Ice’s arm to drag her out with. “Y’all are some nasty mother fuckers,” she calls over her shoulder as they both run out.
“You’re such a liar.” Paige laughs. “You hate PDA.”
“I don’t hate PDA,” Azzi defends. “It’s not my fault your definition of PDA included shit like ass grabbing. I’ll never forget the poor look in that one kid’s eyes.”
“His eyes were wandering too much anyways,” Paige says. “What was he eyeing you up for? I hate men.”
“He looked 9, Paige.”
“Don’t care.”
•••••
Azzi stretches out her legs in front of her. She was able to get a window seat this time. She looks down at her phone again, still open to the photo Paige had sent with her own kissy face in return. Maybe she would be okay with PDA if it meant a few more minutes with Paige, she relents. She would never admit that out loud though.
#paige bueckers#azzi fudd#pazzi#uconnwbb#uconn wbb#wcbb#pazzi fic#paige x azzi#paige bueckers x azzi fudd#fluff
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please be gentle (when you’re tearing me apart)

Eddie Munson x female! reader, Steve Harrington x reader
Main Masterlist
Eddie Munson Masterlist
Steve Harrington Masterlist
Summary:
You’re in love with Eddie, Eddie’s in love with someone else. Somehow, he accidentally ends up in a relationship with you anyway.
Warnings:
(18+), SERIOUS angst, there is only pain here, hurt/no comfort or hurt/a little comfort, cheating, pregnancy, pregnancy complications, birth/c section, Eddie is really out of character and is a total dick, Chrissy is out of character and she also sucks (sorry guys), smut, fingering, protected p in v, virgin!eddie, virgin!reader, really awkward first time!
Word Count: 14.6k
A/N:
WOW okay this was totally unexpected to write. The length especially. This is just something depressing for the anti-Valentine’s Day mood. I’ve been nervous to post so I hope you enjoy! Big giant thanks to @punkrockmlchael (who made my beautiful banner again and also beta read), @the-witty-pen-name , @fizzing-imagines, @losingmygrasponreality, @writhingg , and @lesservillain for bouncing ideas and beta reading! I couldn’t have written this without you. Also ignore that there’s only dividers for half the fic, apparently you can only add 10 images to a post 🙃
dividers by @/strangergraphics
Best friends.
That’s what you and Eddie were, and always had been. Growing up as neighbors in Forest Hills, you met when you were 8 and Eddie was 10, after he moved in with his uncle.
To be honest with yourself, you had had a crush on Eddie Munson since the first time you laid eyes on him. A silly childhood crush at first, he was so cute with his curls, short at the time, and it made your heart beat fast whenever you walked to the store together for snacks and he held your hand.
He would play you all kinds of music you’d never heard before, heavy stuff that was totally new to you. You weren’t sure about it at first, but you grew to love it. When he got into D&D, he would talk your ear off about his campaign plans for hours. You didn’t mind. You liked listening to him talk. When he started Hellfire, you were the first member to join. You didn’t know how to play an instrument, but you were Corroded Coffin’s biggest fan.
Eddie was everything to you. He was the first person you went to with any news, the only one you were excited to tell anything and everything to. He took you to see every new slasher movie, bought you your first dice set. He was the first thing you thought about in the morning and the last you thought of at night. At some point, it turned into more than a crush.
At some point, you fell in love.
Eddie was oblivious. He never dated in high school, but that didn’t seem to bother him. You didn’t, either, but it was mostly because you were so preoccupied with loving Eddie. You tried dropping hints, but he never seemed to figure it out. You were too scared to just get it over with and tell him outright.
So, you remained best friends. Just friends.
—
“Are you going to prom this year?” Wayne asked, sipping his beer as he sat relaxed in his recliner. Eddie nursed his own beer, feet up on the coffee table.
“Nah,” Eddie said. “You know that’s…not my thing.”
“You should go at least once,” Wayne said. “Might regret it.”
“I doubt it.”
“I had a great time at my senior prom,” Wayne reminisced, smiling at the memory. “You should give it a shot, Ed. Why don’t you take your little friend from next door?”
Eddie shook his head. “I don’t feel that way about her.”
“You can go as friends,” he pointed out. “I’m sure she’d like that. Girl adores you.”
“I’m pretty sure she has a crush on me,” Eddie winced, sipping his beer. “I don’t want to give her the wrong idea.”
“You don’t have to marry her, Ed. Just show her a good time. You two have been so close for so long, I’m sure she would understand.”
Eddie thought about it. He didn’t want to go to prom, like at all, but he wanted to make his uncle happy. And if he had to go with someone, it might as well be you, his only female friend, right?
So, he approached you at your locker the next day at school. “Hey.”
You turned to him, your face immediately lighting up with a huge smile. “Hey, Eds.”
“I, uh,” Eddie looked around awkwardly. “I just wanted to ask if you’d want to go to…prom with me?”
Your eyes went wide, but inside your heart was thundering out of your chest. Had Eddie really just asked you out? “Prom? Really? I thought you hated prom?”
“Yeah, well,” Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s my last senior year. Hopefully, at least. I figured I might as well give it a shot. We can pre game and sneak in some alcohol. And if it’s lame, we can ditch.”
You couldn’t wipe the huge smile off your face. You were almost a little concerned at how hard your heart was beating in that moment, like it would give out. “I’d love to go with you.”
Eddie gave you a soft smile. “Cool. I’ll pick you up at 6 that night.”
You watched as Eddie left, heading in the direction of his next class of the day. You waited until he was out of sight before you went sprinting in the direction of Robin’s locker.
You found her there, taking her books out. She startled when you ran up on her, placing her hand over her chest. “Jesus. What’s up with you?”
“Eddie just asked me to prom,” you blurted out. Robin’s jaw dropped open.
“No way!” She exclaimed, her look of shock turning to one of pure excitement. “This is huge. I always knew he was into you.”
You blushed. “I don’t know. I had given up hope of him liking me back. This was so out of the blue. I didn’t even think he wanted to go to prom at all.”
“Maybe he’s just better at hiding his feelings,” Robin offered. “Either way, we’re going dress shopping. Prom is only two weeks away!”
That weekend, Robin convinced her mom to drive the two of you to Indianapolis to go shopping in the big city. You were both giddy with excitement - Robin wasn’t much of a dress girl, and she didn’t have a date. The only person she wanted to take, she couldn’t ask. You were pretty sure Vickie was into girls and Robin in particular, but Robin was still too scared to make the move. You didn’t blame her. It wasn’t like typical rejection if things went wrong. So, instead, Robin was going with a group of girls from the marching band as friends.
Her mom took you to the huge mall, which was much more impressive than Starcourt. It was huge, with a ton of different stores. You made a stop at Camelot Music first, where Robin got a new Blondie tape and you grabbed the new The Smiths record and a Metallica Master of Puppets tape for Eddie, since his had recently broken.
Next was the formal wear store. You were both immediately overwhelmed when you walked in, the racks and racks of fancy dresses as far as the eye could see. All different colors, lengths, and styles. It was…a lot.
“Well…I guess let’s get started,” Robin said, her voice unsure.
You probably tried on 50 dresses each. You and Robin giggled as you tried on the dresses her mom picked for you, big floofy pink and blue monstrosities.
“You look like a marshmallow. Like a big pink marshmallow,” Robin had commented.
“Yeah?” You laughed, gesturing towards her powder blue gown. “Well, you look like a wedding cake.”
An hour and a half into dress shopping, you were both getting tired and totally over it. You had the last gown you’d picked out in your hand, and you told yourself if you hated this one, too, you’d just say fuck it and go to prom in your ripped jeans.
You pulled the dress over your head, smoothing it down your body. When you turned and looked into the mirror, you gasped. You actually looked…beautiful.
The dark purple dress hugged your curves, pushing your breasts up and making them look much sexier (and perkier) than they really were. The skirt fell above your knees, showing off your legs. You did a little twirl, the skirt swishing around your thighs. You loved it, it was by far the best one you’d tried on.
“Are you alive in there?” Robin called from outside the dressing room, and you smiled to yourself.
“I think we have a winner,” you called back.
“Ooh!” Robin said just as you moved the curtain and walked out. You saw Robin standing in a dark blue dress that looked beautiful on her, the skirt long but flattering.
“Oh my god,” she said. “You look stunning! Eddie is going to lose his mind.”
You blushed at the mention of Eddie. “You do too!” And she did. Finally, you had both found something.
After you left the dress shop with your bags in hand, you were both feeling much happier. You made a stop at Afterthoughts, where you found some earrings and a necklace to match your dress.
You couldn’t believe you were going to prom, and with Eddie. It was a dream come true.
You couldn’t wait.
—
Prom night, you were shaking as you got ready. The dress was just as beautiful as you remembered. The jewelry you had picked out matched your dress even better than you’d hoped.
Eddie picked you up right on time. He smiled at you awkwardly when he picked you up, holding a corsage in his hand. “Hey.”
You beamed at him. “Hi. Is…that for me?”
“Oh, yeah.” He looked at it like he had forgotten he had it. “You look pretty,” he told you as he slipped the corsage onto your wrist. You blushed as you pinned the boutonnière to his black suit jacket.
“You look handsome yourself,” you told him shyly.
Eddie drove the two of you to the school. The parking lot was packed with students’ cars and even a few rented limousines. Just as you were about to get out of the van, Eddie stopped you. He reached into his glove compartment and pulled out two black flasks, handing one to you.
“This should make this night a lot more fun, yeah?” He smirked. You smiled back, before making a face as you took a sip of the burning liquid. Eddie laughed, which made you start giggling, too.
You took a photo together at the booth near the gym doors, which Eddie wasn’t super excited about. The next thing he did was head for the food, piling a tiny plate full of appetizers. You followed him, grabbing a cup of punch to help wash down the liquor in your purse.
Eddie wouldn’t dance with you until after he’d finished his flask, claiming it was stupid and he wouldn’t be caught dead dancing at prom. But by the time he finished it, he had enough of a buzz that he didn’t care. You were tipsy, too, and absolutely elated when he stood and took your hand, leading you to the floor just as a slow song came on.
Eddie playfully groaned, rolling his eyes, but he pulled you close to his body anyway. Butterflies took flight in your stomach as he placed his hands on your hips and you wrapped yours around his neck. The two of you swayed together in time to the music. You could not stop smiling. You laid your head on Eddie’s chest, tuning out the music as you listened to his heartbeat.
After prom, you headed back to the van. You’d had the best night of your life, one you would never forget. Yeah, you were both a little bit intoxicated, but you were floating on the clouds for a whole different reason.
“D’you want to come back to my place?” Eddie asked as he started the engine. “We could drink a little more, smoke a joint. Wayne’s working.”
You wanted nothing more. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
At the trailer, Eddie rolled up a thick joint as you gathered the bottles of liquor and shot glasses from the cabinet. Eddie was back in normal clothes, and you’d changed into one of Eddie’s shirts and a pair of his sweatpants that were too big on you.
Eddie sparked up the joint as you poured each of you two shots of tequila. You clinked your glasses together before downing them both. Eddie took the first drag on the joint, his eyes falling closed as he inhaled the thick smoke. He looked gorgeous like this, curls still tamed and framing his face. The smoke escaped through his perfect lips, trailing up and throughout the bedroom. He handed the joint to you, and you gratefully took it, bringing it to your painted lips. Some of your lipstick had rubbed off on the shot glasses, leaving a stain.
As the night went on, the two of you got progressively more drunk and high. By the time it was 2am, the two of you were giggling messes, listening to music over the stereo and talking about the latest campaign. Suddenly, in your drunkenly stoned haze, you remembered the gift stashed in your purse.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, jumping up to grab your small bag. “I forgot. I got you something.”
“You got me something?” Eddie asked, confused, his words slightly slurring together.
You reached into the purse and pulled out the bag from Camelot. You hoped he loved it, because now that it was in your hands, you were suddenly nervous. You turned, smiling softly as you handed Eddie the bag. “I just saw it while I was at the mall with Robin and I thought of you.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows at you as he took the bag. He reached inside and pulled out the Metallica tape, a huge grin spreading across his face immediately. “Shit! You didn’t have to do this. But it’s fuckin’ awesome you did.”
You giggled, flopping back onto the bed next to him. You laid with your head on his pillow, smiling up at Eddie from where he sat next to you. “I’m glad you like it. I know yours broke. Probably because you play it all the time.”
Eddie poked you in the side, making you laugh harder. “Shut up, Freak. You love Master of Puppets just as much as I do.”
“That’s true,” you conceded. You looked up at him, his chocolate brown eyes gazing down at you. They sparkled, like his personality was shining its way through. He had a strong nose, kissable lips. God, you wanted to kiss those lips.
Eddie had never realized how pretty you were. He always just saw you as his long time best friend, the girl who definitely crushed on him but he never saw that way. He still didn’t think he had feelings for you, but…you were pretty.
“Have you ever kissed a guy before?” He asked, pushing a section of hair off your shoulder.
You blushed at the question. You didn’t have much experience, your love life was nonexistent. But you had kissed someone, at least. “Yeah. Tommy Hagan in 7th grade.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Tommy Hagan? That dickhead? You never told me that.”
You shrugged, your cheeks red and hot. “It didn’t mean anything. I got invited to Heather Holloway’s birthday party and he was there. We all played spin the bottle. It only lasted two seconds and we never really talked again.” Eddie hummed. “What about you?”
It was Eddie’s turn to look sheepish. “Uh, yeah. A girl at school, Chrissy, in 8th grade. We didn’t date or anything.”
Now it was your turn to be shocked. “Chrissy Cunningham? You didn’t tell me that, either!” He had never mentioned her. You knew it was stupid, but you were struck with jealousy at his words.
“It was nothing,” he said, brushing it off.
“Look at us,” you laughed. “18 and almost 20, and we’re still a couple of virgins.”
Eddie looked down at you, something unfamiliar swimming behind his eyes. He had never wanted to kiss you before this moment, but now... “I mean, we can change that.”
Your heart stopped in your chest. “What do you mean?”
Eddie thought about it for a moment. This could be a point of no return, a step in a direction he didn’t want to take. But in his drunk and high mind…he wanted it. He wanted you.
He leaned forward slowly, so slowly. Your breath hitched in your throat right before his lips pressed against yours. They were just as soft as you always dreamed they were, and your mind went even more hazy from his kisses.
Neither of you were experienced at all and you were both pretty intoxicated, so the kiss was a little awkward and desperate. All tongues and teeth clashing together, hungry for one another. Eddie’s hand slid beneath your t-shirt - his Hellfire shirt - trailing up your smooth skin until he reached your breasts. You hadn’t worn a bra with your dress, so you were bare chested beneath the thin shirt. His calloused fingers delicately grazed your nipples, making you shiver. You’d never been touched there before, never felt anything like this. Being touched by Eddie was so much different than being touched by your own hand.
“I love your tits,” Eddie mumbled against your lips between kisses. You hummed, arching your back into his touch.
“Feels good, Ed,” you moaned quietly, body turning into pure electricity under his wandering touch. Your own hand tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, loving the way your bodies molded together, the feeling of his body finally pressed up against your own.
“Yeah?” He squeezed your breast one more time before his hand moved to your back, sliding down your body until he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. You gasped, feeling how hard he was through his own sweatpants. “You feel how hard I am?”
“Yeah,” you whispered back. You moved your hand to his chest, sliding it down his body until you reached the tent in his pants. He groaned as you felt him, squeezing his cock through the material.
Eddie sat up, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere on the floor. You eyed his bare chest, the tattoos adorning his pale skin. You traced a finger over the design on the left side of his chest. God, he was so hot.
His hands slid up your shirt, pulling it up and off. His gaze dropped straight to your tits, he was practically drooling. He reached for the waistband of your sweatpants next, pulling them down your body slowly, leaving you in nothing but your panties. You were grateful you picked something pretty, red and lace.
“So sexy,” Eddie moaned. He leaned forward and kissed your stomach, which startled you a little. He trailed kisses up your body until he reached your breasts, where he ran his tongue over one of your nipples before wrapping his lips around it. You moaned as you arched into his touch, his mouth, whatever he would give you.
His hand slid down your body slowly, slowly, until it reached your panties. He slipped beneath them, fingers dipping between your folds. He could feel how insanely wet you were, and it only made his cock harder.
“So wet for me,” he said. “Bet you can’t wait for my cock.”
You whimpered as he pressed a finger against your entrance. Slowly, carefully he pushed it inside, stretching you for the first time. You gasped at the intrusion, but the pain faded quickly. Eddie slowly pumped his long finger in and out of your pussy, pressing against something deep inside that felt incredible as he curled his finger against it. He added a second finger shortly after, and the stretch was more intense, but from the feeling of the size of his cock in your hand, you knew it wouldn’t even be comparable.
Eddie fingered you a little longer, getting you nice and wet and ready for him, before he removed his hand and slipped your panties off. Now bare before him, he drank you in with his hungry eyes. His cock twitched in his pants.
You helped him push them down his hips, and he kicked them off onto the floor. He didn’t have boxers on underneath, and his dick was so much more impressive once fully revealed. It was big enough that it made you feel scared even through your mind haze.
“You can take it,” he assured you, his words still slightly slurred. “I know you can.”
He reached over you into the bedside table and pulled out an unopened box of condoms. “Finally get to use these,” he laughed, taking one out of the box and ripping it open. You watched as he slid the rubber over his hard cock, tip red and glistening. You wished you could have had a taste.
Eddie got in between your legs, kissing all over your neck before meeting your lips again. His tongue pressed into your mouth immediately, attempting to distract you from the pain where he was lining himself up and slowly beginning to push inside.
You whined as he began to fill you, inch by thick inch. When he was fully seated inside he pulled back and snapped his hips back into you, making you gasp. He set a quick pace, desperately rutting into you as he chased his pleasure, his drunken rhythm sloppy and uneven.
You held onto him tightly as he fucked into you, and he groaned into your neck where he had his face buried. “Feels so good,” he moaned, not exactly caring how you felt, only worried about his own quickly impending orgasm. It was his first time and he was not going to last.
“Eddie,” you whined, “you’re so big.”
He groaned at that. “Yeah, baby? You like it?”
“Mmhmm,” you moaned, and it did feel good, but he was also splitting you in half.
“Fuck,” he hissed, “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum.”
He pumped into you just a couple more times before he was stilling, buried to the hilt inside you as he filled the condom. He moaned loudly, body trembling on top of you as he rode out his orgasm. You didn’t get to cum, but you were too drunk to care.
Eddie pulled out, removing the condom and tying it off before tossing it into the trash can. He collapsed onto the bed next to you, his naked body sweaty, chest heaving.
“That was…good,” you said, not knowing if it was or not. You were happy to have lost your virginity to Eddie, and the whole night had been a dream. But he hadn’t exactly cared about your pleasure. You waited for Eddie to reply, to say anything, but nothing came.
He was already snoring.
—
The unbearably bright light shining through the window around his curtains is the first thing Eddie experienced the next morning. It woke him up, but he only squeezed his eyes shut tighter, groaning as the light made his pounding headache infinitely worse. Fuck, he drank way too much last night.
He barely even remembered it. He remembered the prom, he remembered drinking a lot, doing shots, and smoking a joint. He remembered you, but his memory was hazy. How did you get home anyway? He didn’t remember driving you home after prom.
Eddie stretched, his muscles stiff. He was naked beneath his blanket, which wasn’t entirely unusual. He probably just didn’t feel like changing once he got his suit off.
Eventually he figured he should get out of bed. He rolled over and stood with another old man groan. Fuck, he had to cut back on the drinking, because he definitely felt a lot older than 19 right now.
He pulled on some boxers and a pair of sweatpants he found on the floor, remaining shirtless. Wayne would be passed out in his own bedroom after a long night of work at the plant. But Eddie was starving, and he needed something for that headache.
When he stepped out of the room, the first thing he noticed was the smell. Something delicious was wafting from the kitchen, the smell of bacon overpowering some other food scents. That was weird. Wayne didn’t cook breakfast, not the morning after a work night. He walked down the hall cautiously, brows furrowed as he neared the end of the hallway. He turned the corner, and froze.
You were there in the kitchen, expertly flipping a pancake in a pan. A plate sat on the counter next to you filled with bacon, and another pan on the next burner was cooking scrambled eggs. Oh, and you were dressed in nothing but Eddie’s oversized t-shirt and your underwear.
Oh shit, Eddie thought. What the fuck did I do?
The floor creaked as he stepped into the kitchen, and you turned around, a smile spreading across your lips at the sight of him. “Hey, sleepyhead. I made us some breakfast. Thought you could use something on your stomach.”
Eddie didn’t know what to say or do. Did he sleep with you? Oh god. He was going to be sick. “Uh, good morning. You, uh, didn’t have to do all this.”
He watched as you plated the finished pancakes and eggs. “I thought we could both use a big breakfast after last night,” you said, giving him a smirk. Oh, shit. He did sleep with you last night. He drunkenly lost his virginity after prom, to you.
Fuck. He was a fucking idiot.
You started making plates for the both of you. “I set out a water bottle and some Tylenol for you over there,” you said, nodding to the corner of the counter. Eddie took the medicine immediately, desperate for some relief from his unbearable headache. Now he wasn’t sure what was making it worse, the hangover or the knowledge of what he’d done.
He sat down across from you at the small table. He didn’t know what to say. Your friendship would never be the same after this. He knew you liked him, he didn’t like you, then he slept with you. Now he had to crush your heart. He really felt like he was going to be sick.
“Did you sleep okay?” You finally asked as the two of you ate, breaking the silence.
“Huh?” Eddie snapped back to reality. “Oh. Yeah.”
You smiled softly at him. You figured he was just still cloudy from the weed. “I had a good time last night.”
“Yeah…” Eddie said. “Me too.”
Your face lit up at that, and he could have slapped himself. He didn’t mean that. He didn’t even remember the sex. He was not doing a good job of not leading you on. “Listen,” he said, “about that-“
“It was really good,” you said. Eddie’s watched as your cheeks turned red and you looked down at your plate. “Sorry. I just meant…I enjoyed it. Being with you.”
Eddie had suspected, known even, that you had a crush on him, but this was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud. Eddie was really going to have to stomp on your heart to put an end to those thoughts, and it was all his fault. He never should have brought you home after prom. “Look, I-“
“I didn’t think you liked me back,” you continued, rambling nervously, excitedly. “I…to be honest with you I’ve had a crush on you for years, but I was always too scared to tell you. But you never seemed like you were into me…until last night.” You giggled, covering your mouth. “I can’t believe we’re together now.”
Together?
Oh, fuck. He couldn’t do this. He could not do this. He couldn’t crush your spirit, wipe that elated smile off your face. He’d never seen you look so happy. He felt like the biggest asshole.
“Oh, yeah,” he said instead. “Um, me either.”
“I can’t wait to tell Robin,” you continued. “She’s going to freak.”
—
Eddie couldn’t believe he had gotten himself into this situation.
Sure, you were his best friend so he liked your personality, and it’s not like you weren’t cute, but he just didn’t have feelings for you in the way you did for him. But now he had slept with you and you thought he liked you back. He had somehow, some way, become your actual boyfriend.
“I thought you didn’t like her like that?” Gareth asked the next school day after prom at lunch. You were sitting with Robin today. You often bounced between the marching band table and the Hellfire table.
“I don’t,” Eddie said simply.
Gareth, Jeff, and Grant looked at him like he was crazy. “Then how…why…?”
Eddie slammed his hand on the table. “Stop grilling me, okay?”
“Someone’s cranky,” Jeff muttered, turning back to his lunch tray in front of him.
“Yeah, you’re in a pretty shitty mood to be the only one of us to lose his virginity and get a girlfriend,” Grant commented. Gareth and Jeff agreed, nodding along.
“Yeah, well,” Eddie muttered. “Would be nice if it was with someone I’m actually into.”
“Harsh,” Gareth tsked. “You should be honest with her. You’re just leading her on.”
“I can’t.” Eddie buried his face in his hands, exasperated and stressed. “It’s gone too far. She thinks I’m her boyfriend. She thinks I like her back. I can’t crush her like that.”
The other three boys exchanged a look. “So…you’re just gonna marry her?” Grant asked.
Eddie froze. That is where this would eventually lead if he didn’t turn it around. But he was scared. He couldn’t bring himself to burst your bubble. “I’ll figure something out.”
As lunch was ending, Eddie jolted when you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, babe,” you giggled. “How was lunch?”
“Good,” Eddie said, giving each Hellfire boy a look that said don’t say or do a damn thing.
“You guys are so cute,” Robin said, holding her hands over her chest as she tilted her head to the side with a smile. “I’m so happy you’re finally together.”
Eddie felt sick. Just like he had all weekend, since the morning after prom. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m a lucky guy.”
Your whole face lit up with a smile. “I was thinking maybe we could hang out after school. Do our homework and work on the Curse of Vecna.”
Eddie groaned internally. This was such a disaster. “Sure.”
That day after school Eddie drove you back to his place. He reluctantly did his homework with you, mostly copying your answers rather than actually learning anything. Then the two of you laid on his bed and made out.
Hey, if he was going to be stuck in this relationship with someone he didn’t actually care for, the least he could do was take advantage of the benefits.
—
You spent four years with Eddie before you started noticing something was off.
It was the scent you started noticing on his clothes at first, like flowers and vanilla. You lifted his shirt from the laundry, the unexpected smell hitting you. You didn’t own anything that smelled like this, and Eddie certainly didn’t. You knew the smell of his cheap cologne better than anything, the amount of times you’d laid your head on his chest and smelled that distinctly Eddie scent. Something was wrong.
When you confronted him about it, he brushed it off. “It’s this new girl at work. Her perfume is so strong, everyone smells like it.”
You accepted the answer for the time being. But then there were other things you began to notice. A scrunchie that definitely didn’t belong to you on the floor of the passenger side of his van. A condom wrapper in the bathroom trash after you’d been out of town for the weekend. And finally, a pair of pink panties stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans that were so clearly not yours it was nearly comical if it hadn’t made you want to die.
When you confronted him about it the next time, it was with tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat. “Eddie,” you said, your voice cracking as you tossed the panties onto the floor in front of where he sat on the couch. “What are these?”
Eddie knew he had been caught. There was no getting out of it this time. You didn’t own any underwear like that, and it was the wrong size. How could he have been so stupid to have kept the panties? “I…”
“Really?” You sobbed. “You have nothing to say?”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” Eddie looked down at his hands. “Yeah, I’ve been sleeping with someone else.”
Even though you already knew his words were true, they still hit you right in the heart. You could feel it cracking, could feel the fault lines forming, the blood and life seeping out of it. “With who?” You asked, barely audible. You weren’t sure if you wanted the answer, but you needed it.
“That’s not important-“
“It is important,” you said. “It’s important to me.”
Eddie didn’t respond at first. He didn’t want to respond. “Chrissy Cunningham,” he answered reluctantly at last. “But don’t pull her into this, she doesn’t deserve to be-“
“Chrissy Cunningham?” You scoffed. “Eddie, we’ve been together for four years. Chrissy knows we’re together. So she was just fine sleeping with a guy she knew was taken?” You laughed humorlessly through the tears. “Wow. You guys are perfect for each other, then.”
Eddie shook his head. “Don’t do that, man, she-“
“‘Man’?” You couldn’t believe the conversation you were having. “Wow, I sure got demoted from baby fast, huh?”
He rubbed his hands over his face. “Please. I don’t wanna do this. I don’t feel like doing this.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have cheated!” You yelled back. “Why would you do this? How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me.”
Eddie mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t catch.
“What?” You asked. “I can’t hear you. Just fucking tell me. Why would you do this to me?”
When Eddie looked up at you, his eyes were full of anger, flames flickering behind his normally sweet doe eyes. The ones you had gazed into, taken comfort in so many times. When he opened his mouth, nothing but poison seeped out.
“Because I never loved you!” Eddie yelled, hands running through his hair to the point he was practically pulling it out. You had never seen him so upset. “Fuck! I went out with you because we were friends and I felt bad, and by the time we’d been together for months it was too late. I never liked you back like that. That’s the truth, finally.”
His words hit you like a shot to the chest. You stared at him with your lips parted, staggering gasps being dragged into your lungs. You shook uncontrollably as if it were suddenly freezing. But the tears didn’t yet fall. You felt like you might be in shock. “How…”
“How did I pretend to be in love with you?” He scoffed. “I didn’t do a very good job of it, but it doesn’t seem like you ever noticed. You were so blinded by who you wanted me to be, you couldn’t see what was right in front of you. Hey, as long as I came home and fucked you before passing out next to you, you just took it.” He laughed, a cruel, sinister laugh. “You just let me treat you like shit. Like you have no respect for yourself, or were just that obsessed with me.”
You didn’t even know who this was in front of you right now. This person who looked like Eddie, sounded like Eddie, but was spewing such horrible, hurtful words that Eddie never would. You didn’t recognize him at all. You wanted to blame his words on his heightened emotions, but you could tell everything he said was true. Especially with the cheating to back it up.
That’s not how you treated someone you cared about.
“So you just led me on for four years instead of telling me?” You asked. There was no fight behind your voice like there was in his. Only hurt and defeat. “Eddie…even before all this, you were my best friend. How could you do this to me?”
He didn’t have an answer for that. Because he was a selfish idiot coward? That was the truth. “Look, me and Chrissy- it just happened. It wasn’t supposed to, but it did. She came in to the Hideout, we got to talking-“
“And you fucked her?” You finished for him.
He just looked at you. “Yeah.”
The truth was, Eddie felt bad. He knew he had fucked up astronomically bad. He had led you on, used your body, betrayed you. Wasted four years of your life. He knew you thought he was the one, he knew you were waiting for a proposal that was never going to come. It was his fault things had gotten this far.
Maybe he thought he could fake it ‘til he made it. Maybe he thought if he pretended to be into you, eventually he would be. But that never happened.
And now you were crying, hard. His chest ached for some reason, even though he had no right to hurt for what he had done to you. He deserved to feel like shit.
He wasn’t prepared for the next words that came out of your mouth.
“I’m pregnant, Eddie,” you said, eyes squeezed shut as if that would stop the torrent of tears currently streaming down your face. There was no response. You had to force yourself to open your eyes and look, wondering if he was even still there.
He was. He stared at you, brown eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open. “You’re- no.”
“I am,” you said, voice hoarse from crying. “I…”
Eddie shook his head. “No. No, no, no. This is not happening. It’s not fucking happening.”
You only cried harder. The pregnancy hormones had nothing to do with this; this was pure devastation, pure heartbreak. Your heart felt like it had crumbled in your chest and there was nothing left to repair even if you could.
“Let me see the test,” he said, holding a hand out.
“Why would I lie?” You asked, voice weak. You were so emotionally worn out, you felt like you could sleep for weeks. Months. Years. You wanted to.
“Because you want me to stay with you?” He scoffed. “Look, I’m not saying you’re lying, but I want to see to be sure.”
You just stared at him. Finally, you said “Fine,” going into your shared bedroom and coming out with a piece of paper with your office visit report. “I went to the doctor. Here.”
Eddie took the paper from your hands, examining it carefully. Sure enough, under “Reason for Visit/Diagnosis”, it said “Pregnancy - 8 weeks”.
“Christ,” Eddie said. He rubbed his hands over his face, like he was trying to erase the information from his brain. He was panicked. He couldn’t be a dad. Not right now, maybe not ever. He didn’t even know if he wanted kids. And with you? His soon to be ex girlfriend who he had treated like shit and didn’t love? “I mean fuck, man. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” you said. Your voice was small, like all the fight had left you.
Eddie felt like he had ruined his life. For one thing, you were both still so young. That was without even mentioning the mess of a ‘relationship’ he had gotten himself involved in, the fact that it would never work out even if he wanted it to because he didn’t have feelings for you, and now he was standing here crushing his pregnant girlfriend’s heart. Like an asshole.
He was an asshole, and he knew it.
“Look,” he said finally. “If there’s really a kid-“
“There is.”
Eddie continued. “I’m not gonna abandon it. I’ll…be here. I’ll pay child support, I want to share custody, I want to be involved.”
You nodded. At least there was that, you supposed. As heart broken as you were, as much as you felt like going to sleep and never waking up again, you couldn’t bear the thought of Eddie leaving both of you. This baby deserved better.
“Look, I…I need some time. I’m gonna go stay with Wayne for a little while. Until I can get my own place.” Eddie looked at you with pity now, the news of the pregnancy dousing the fire of his earlier cruelty. “You can keep the apartment. We’ve got the guest room for the baby, unless you decide to move out.”
You just nodded again. “Okay, Eddie.”
The two of you looked at each other. This wasn’t just the end of your apparent farce of a relationship, but also of your nearly lifelong friendship. Things between you and Eddie would never be the same again. He had taken your heart you gave to him and stomped on it, spit on it.
That was the thing you couldn’t get past. He hadn’t just rejected you, he had destroyed you. The cheating, the lying. Playing you like a fucking game. Like you meant nothing not just to him, but at all. You didn’t know how you’d ever learn to trust again, or if you even wanted to. Eddie slept on the couch that night, too late at night to drive to Wayne’s.
When you woke up the next morning, he was gone.
—
Your pregnancy was difficult. You had severe morning sickness in the beginning - hyperemesis gravidarum, your doctor called it. You struggled to keep any food down, and ended up hospitalized for fluids multiple times. Your doctor was concerned and considered you a high risk pregnancy. You went from monthly doctor visits to weekly. You felt pretty sure your emotional devastation wasn’t helping your physical health whatsoever.
Eddie was helpful, at least. He called you every couple of days to see how you were doing and if you needed anything. He remembered your appointment days and called to ask what the doctor said. He shopped for your groceries for you and dropped them off at the house. It would have felt nice, if you didn’t know he was only doing it for the baby and not you, and if you didn’t know he was still sleeping with Chrissy.
You went through most of the pregnancy alone. At 16 weeks, you noticed a bump for the first time, standing in front of your full length mirror as you got ready for work. It took you by surprise, this little baby bump that seemed to have popped up overnight. You ran your hand over the skin there, surprised by how firm it felt. There was really a little baby in there.
You had an ultrasound that afternoon. You were thrilled to see the baby, one of the only things you looked forward to anymore. The technician showed you your baby, thriving and wiggling around in there. It made your heart swell. She measured the heartbeat and played it out loud, the little whoosh whoosh whoosh comforting.
Eddie came to the apartment that evening to bring you the baby swing he had bought. You were in the kitchen cooking yourself chicken alfredo for dinner, wearing a thin tank top and your short sleep shorts. Eddie let himself in, since he still had a key in case of emergencies. You weren’t surprised to hear him coming in since he’d told you he’d be over.
You heard his footsteps heading into the kitchen, then - “Woah.”
You turned from where you’d been stirring the sauce, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”
He gestured towards your stomach. “You, uh…your…”
You laughed lightly. “The bump? Yeah, that’s new.”
Eddie walked over towards you, leaning against the counter next to the stove. He didn’t know how to feel about it. It was strange to see, and it made him feel weird in his chest. Something he’d never felt before. “It’s…it’s cute. You look cute.”
You laughed again. “I’m about to get a lot bigger.”
The two of you stood in silence for a minute. Then, finally, Eddie worked up the courage to ask - “Can I…can I feel?”
You were surprised by the question. Sure, Eddie had been pretty devoted to this baby during the pregnancy, but it still caught you off guard. “Oh. Sure.”
You turned and he walked up to you cautiously. He raised his hands, slowly moving them towards you as he looked up at you for confirmation it was still okay. Finally he placed his hands on your belly, feeling the firm bump beneath his hands. It was real. He knew it was real, but now it was real.
“Wow,” he said after a minute. “That’s…wow.” He gently rubbed the bump, in shock that that was his child beneath his hand.
“I got an ultrasound today,” you said. “Want to see?”
“Of course,” he answered immediately. He watched as you headed into the living room, already developing the slightest little waddle. He couldn’t help but smile.
You pulled the printed photos from your purse, bringing them over. Eddie gently took them from your hands. “Holy shit!” He said, laughing as he closely examined the photos. “It really looks like a little baby now instead of a blob.”
“Yeah,” you agreed with a smile. “They said we’d find out if it’s a boy or a girl at the next one. At 20 weeks.”
Eddie’s eyes darted up to you. “Really? Can I…go?”
You raised your eyebrows. “Really? You want to come with me to the appointment?”
“Yeah, of course. I want to know what we’re having. I want to be there myself.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking about it. “How will Chrissy feel about that?”
Eddie’s expression hardened for the first time since he’d come over. “I can do whatever I want. And we’re not talking about her right now.”
You rolled your eyes, heading back into the kitchen to tend to your dinner. “I guess you can come, Eddie. It’s your baby too. But don’t bring her.”
“I’m not,” he assured you. You thought he’d have to be a fucking idiot to bring her, anyway. “I just want to be there.”
You felt like you couldn’t take that from him. If he wanted to be an involved father, he could. You encouraged that, in fact. This baby didn’t deserve to be born into the mess that was your relationship, or what used to be your relationship. Your issues with Eddie needed to be put aside for the sake of your child.
So, four weeks later, you waddled your 20 week pregnant self down the stairs of your apartment complex and into Eddie’s van where he sat idling, waiting to pick you up. He helped you climb in, and you waved him off when he tried to buckle you up. “I’ve got it, Eddie. I’m not totally helpless.”
“I know,” he said, “I just want to help.”
You rode to the doctor’s office without speaking, the only sounds being the heavy music playing over the stereo. You couldn’t stand it. Since the break up, you couldn’t listen to Eddie’s music anymore. Too many memories, too many associations.
When he pulled up at the office, he hopped out quickly to run around and offer you a hand as you carefully climbed down. The bump was significantly bigger already, it was in the way and threw off your center of balance. And Eddie was not about to let you fall and hurt yourself and the baby.
You had grown to know the staff at the office since you were there so often. They greeted you by name the second you walked in, looking pleased to see you. In the exam room, Eddie sat in the visitor’s chair, looking as awkward as he felt.
When the tech walked in, she barely managed to contain the surprise on her face to see Eddie with you. You had been to every appointment alone, and they knew you weren’t together with the father. But she quickly plastered a smile to her face, walking over to you.
“Are you excited?” She asked you. “It’s a big day!”
“So excited,” you giggled. “I’m ready to know.”
You laid back and lifted your shirt up and she squirted the cold gel onto your belly, your least favorite part. She placed the wand on your stomach and began moving it around. There was a screen only she could see, and a bigger screen facing you and Eddie that showed the baby.
The little wiggling baby popped up on the screen, moving all around. You smiled, relieved to see the little guy or girl was doing well. You always worried between ultrasounds that something would happen.
The two of you watched as the tech examined and measured the various body parts, making notes in your chart as she performed the exam. Then, finally, it was time.
“Okay,” she said. “Everything looks great! Do you want to know what you’re having?”
“Yes,” you and Eddie answered immediately at the same exact time. You glanced at each other, laughing lightly.
You were nervous. You weren’t sure why. You really didn’t have a preference for the baby’s sex, but this was a huge deal. This made it real, really real. The baby was about to go from “the baby” to your son or daughter. They would have a name, you would be able to shop more. This was a huge moment, and your heart thumped hard in your chest.
She moved the wand a little, looking where she needed to look. She smiled - “It’s a healthy baby girl.”
You choked out a light sob, hands moving up to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. A baby girl, a daughter. Your daughter. Thoughts flashed through your mind of pink little dresses, playing dolls, dance recitals and late night dance parties. Or maybe she would be more of a tomboy, playing sports and getting dirty. You would love her no matter who she turned out to be.
Eddie stared at the screen in awe. A daughter. He was having a daughter. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t have a preference for the gender either, but hearing it was a girl, it just felt right. Like this was the child he was meant to have, this was the perfect outcome. His body overflowed with the love he felt for this tiny person already. He nearly reached over and grabbed your hand, but thought better of it. It wasn’t his hand to hold anymore.
You left the appointment in high spirits with a stack of ultrasound photos in your hand. You kept looking them over, amazed at how much the baby looked like a baby. Just as you were about to get back in the van, you felt something move that made you gasp and nearly drop your bag.
“What??” Eddie asked, immediately by your side. “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”
You looked up at him wide eyed. “I…” You were about to say something else when you felt the movement again. You quickly grabbed Eddie’s hand and placed it on your stomach, right where you felt it.
He looked at you strangely, but kept his hand there. Then, a second later - another kick, right where Eddie’s hand lay.
“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, jerking his hand back out of instinct before putting it back. “Did she just kick?”
“I think so,” you said, an incredulous giggle in your voice.
“She’s strong,” Eddie commented with a smile. He gently rubbed his hand over the bump. “My girl. Gonna be a soccer player or something. Or just kick some serious ass.”
You laughed, your hand resting next to Eddie’s. “This has been the best day I’ve had in months.”
Eddie felt a pang of guilt at that. He knew he was the reason for your sadness, for your pain. And now here you were, giving him the greatest gift he could dream of, even if it’s one he didn’t expect. He couldn’t wait for this baby to be here.
Robin threw you a baby shower when you were 33 weeks pregnant. You were huge and uncomfortable, and still mentally a disaster. But Robin had put in so much work you were at least going to make an attempt to enjoy yourself.
She had taken you shopping for a dress, and you’d landed on a long, light pink one with a hem right beneath your breasts, the rest of the dress draped over your belly. It made you feel pretty, even if gigantic.
When you and Robin walked in, the party was already underway, your friends, family, and acquaintances mingling around, eating from the buffet table. There was a table surrounded and piled high with gifts, a rocking chair with a bow on it sitting next to it.
“Oh my god, Robs,” you said, tears springing to your eyes. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Of course I did,” she said, nudging your arm. “You deserve it, babes. You and her both.” She placed a hand over your belly, making you smile. “You’ve been put through hell this pregnancy, the least I can do is give you a good party.”
Robin led you over to the buffet table, where Steve Harrington was standing. You furrowed your brows at your best friend as you walked, and she gave you a sheepish smile and shrug.
“He’s different now,” she said. You couldn’t believe your ears. “He’s not King Steve anymore. And he helped me out a ton with this party. He’s kind of a dingus, but he’s cool.”
Steve gave you a kind smile as you approached. “Hey,” he said once you’d both reached him, standing up straight. “Congratulations. You look beautiful.”
You blushed, because you certainly didn’t expect him to say that. “I’m huge,” you said.
Steve chuckled. “Well, you’re growing a whole human. Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s hard work.”
You were completely shocked that Steve was being so nice to you. He had never been mean to you, but he definitely saw you and Eddie as Freaks in high school, and never gave you or Robin the time of day. He really did seem different.
“Come on,” Robin said, pulling gently on your arm. “Let’s get you and that baby something to eat. It’s gonna be a great party.”
And it was a good party. You were having a good time talking with your guests, everyone wanting to feel the baby and asking you questions. The food was good, too, you thought as you filled your third plate in 30 minutes. You were having a good time.
That is, until the door opened and two guests walked in late.
Eddie walked in, looking awkward, a gift bag in hand. He knew a good number of the people in attendance hated him, and for good reason. The fact that Eddie showed up to your party wasn’t the bad part. You were on okay terms. It was the fact that he walked in, hand in hand with Chrissy Cunningham.
Your heart stopped in your chest. You hated that you still weren’t over Eddie, but it was the truth. You felt like you would throw up at the sight.
“Oh, fuck no,” Robin muttered under her breath from next to you, before she stood tall and started walking over to them with purpose.
“Robs, wait!” You called, following after her, but Robin’s long strides were much faster than your 8 month pregnant waddle. Robin was already there when you reached the three, her finger pointed in Eddie’s face.
“And what do you think gives you the right to come marching into her party with your little girlfriend?” She was yelling, fury in her eyes like you’d never seen. “What the fuck is wrong with you??”
“Robin-“ you started, but she wasn’t even hearing you.
“You are the scum of the fucking earth,” she said to Eddie. “You don’t belong here. You don’t belong outside enjoying the day. You belong in a cave.”
Eddie was looking at her with an irritated expression on his face. Chrissy stood next to him, her big eyes wide as she held onto his arm. It made you feel so much worse.
“This is my daughter’s baby shower,” he said. “I have a right to be here.”
“No, this is her shower.” Robin gestured towards where you stood slightly behind her without even turning around. “This is for her. She has been through hell, and it’s entirely your fault. The only thing you did besides ruin her life is put the damn baby in her. Good job, Eddie!”
Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Down, guard dog, this has nothing to do with you. Get out of my face. I’m here to celebrate my daughter. Not yours.”
“And you had to bring your skank with you?”
Both you and Chrissy gasped. You had never heard her speak that way before. Eddie’s eyes darkened. “Don’t talk about her like that. She has nothing to do with this.”
“She slept with you multiple times while knowing you were in a relationship. So yeah, she’s a skank, and you’re a slut too. I guess you guys are made for each other.”
“Babe, why don’t we just go-“ Chrissy said softly.
“Babe,” Robin mocked. “How cute.”
“I’m not leaving,” Eddie said, looking from Chrissy to Robin, and finally to you. “I deserve to be here. So get over yourself.”
“I think you should leave, Eddie.”
You turned as you all looked behind you, where Steve had walked up. His expression was serious, and Eddie narrowed his eyes at him.
“This doesn’t concern you, Harrington.”
“Well, it kind of does,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “These are my friends. I helped organize the party. No one would have cared if you wanted to be here, but you had to go and bring your girlfriend to rub in her face?”
Eddie was taken aback. He couldn’t believe Steve Harrington was here and had the nerve to talk to him and his girlfriend this way. He was about to say something rude back when you spoke up.
“It’s okay,” you said, your voice timid. “They can stay.”
Steve and Robin looked at you with concern etched on both of their faces. “Are you sure?” Steve asked quietly. “Robin told me your pregnancy has been complicated. You don’t need any extra stress.”
“It’s okay,” you repeated. You weren’t entirely sure if you were really okay with it, but you didn’t want drama at your baby shower. At least, not any more drama than what had already been caused.
Steve looked at you, giving you any chance to change your mind, but you didn’t say anything else. Steve looked at Eddie and Chrissy. “She says you can stay, you can stay.”
The rest of the party was admittedly very awkward. Eddie kind of felt like shit - he knew he shouldn’t have brought Chrissy here. It was the wrong move. He thought maybe it would be alright, but the second he walked in the door he knew what a mistake it had been.
When it was time for gifts, you felt a little uncomfortable. Even as a child you had never enjoyed the whole “opening gifts in front of the whole guest list” part of parties, but you knew your older relatives would find it rude if you didn’t.
You got a lot of lovely gifts - lots of girly clothes and tiny dresses, bottles, burp cloths, a baby monitor, baby soap and towels, health stuff, toys, all kinds of things. You even got some bigger items, like a high chair, a car seat, and a stroller. You were so grateful you teared up multiple times. As a single mom, you had been worried sick about how you’d afford a lot of this stuff.
When you opened Eddie’s gift, it was just a piece of paper inside the bag. You were confused, until you took the paper out and saw the photo of the crib you had been eyeing on it, and a note that he had ordered it for you. Cue the waterworks.
Chrissy’s gift was probably the ugliest baby clothes you’d ever seen in size 24m and a toy she wouldn’t be able to play with for years. You wanted to throw the gift back in her face. She did that shit on purpose.
The rest of the party went well. You managed to avoid Chrissy, or maybe she was avoiding you. You gave each of your friends and family hugs as they left when the party was over, thanking them for coming and for their gifts.
Eddie gave you a nod as he and Chrissy left. He was always so much more pleasant when he wasn’t with her. You could always tell when she was in his ear, too, because he would start stupid arguments and stress you out. You were tired of Chrissy in your business. You never wanted to see her for the rest of your life.
But that was Eddie’s girlfriend, the girl he actually liked, and Eddie was this baby’s father. So you supposed you’d have to live with her.
At 33 weeks, days after the shower, you noticed horrible swelling in your hands and feet. More than the normal pregnancy swelling. You brought it up at your doctor’s appointment, and she was immediately concerned.
Your blood pressure was through the roof. You were diagnosed with pre eclampsia and told to head straight to the hospital to be admitted.
You cried on the way to the car. This whole pregnancy had been hell, and as excited as you were to meet the baby, you were miserable. And it wasn’t time for her to come yet. You were terrified.
You drove around the corner to the hospital’s main entrance, walking inside and giving the receptionist the paper from your doctor. They had you upstairs and set up in bed in no time, hooked up to monitors and put on strict bed rest.
The first thing you did once you were settled was grab the bedside phone. You dialed Robin’s number first, filling her in through tears. She promised to be over right after work with movies to watch, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible while you had to be in the hospital.
Next, you called Eddie.
“Hello?” He answered, a laugh in his voice, and you could hear Chrissy giggling in the background. It made you feel infinitely worse.
“Eddie. It’s me.” It was obvious in your voice that you’d been crying.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, suddenly serious. “Is it the baby? Is she coming? It’s too early!”
You sniffled. “Not yet. But I have pre eclampsia. They hospitalized me and put me on bed rest until the baby is born.”
“Shit,” Eddie hissed. “Do you, uh…do you need me?”
“Can you run by the apartment and grab my bag I packed?” You asked. “Maybe throw some extra stuff in there since I’m going to be here for a while?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The next week in the hospital was a long one. You were bored to death, even with Robin and Steve coming by every day after work and on their days off. They would bring different movies from Family Video every day, and they had bought you a collection of board games to play together.
At 34 weeks, things took a turn for the worse.
Your water broke and labor began far too early. You were in a panic. Robin had been visiting at the time, and next thing you knew, doctors and nurses were rushing in, checking your vitals and fussing over you. The contractions started immediately, coming strong and fast.
“Call Eddie!” You called to a shocked Robin, who froze for only a few seconds before dashing for the phone.
By the time Eddie sprinted through the door, breathless and mercilessly alone, things were well underway. Labor had set in fast, and the baby’s vitals were dropping. They had to get her out as soon as possible.
“We’re going to be taking you back for a C section, okay?” The doctor told you kindly, but you could hear the seriousness of the situation in his tone. “We need to get this baby out right now.”
You had never been more terrified in your life. You could not lose this baby. You didn’t care much about your own well-being, but losing this baby would kill you.
“Can I come?” Eddie asked, his voice shaking. He was equally terrified. This baby, his daughter, meant the world to him already and she wasn’t even here yet. He needed both of you to be okay.
“Yes, you’ll just have to change into a pair of scrubs,” the doctor said. “One of the nurses will bring you some then bring you to the OR. We just need to get her in there and prepped immediately.”
Eddie watched as they wheeled you from the room quickly, disappearing down the hall with an urgency that made him sick to his stomach. Just as he’d been told, a nurse walked up with a pair of surgical scrubs and a hair cap, snapping him out of his internal panic.
He went into the bathroom and changed into the scrubs, pulling his hair up into a bun and putting the cap on. He slipped the shoe covers on last. He felt like he looked ridiculous, but he really didn’t have time to think about that right now.
Inside the operating room, you laid on a table with your arms strapped down out to the side. You also wore a cap over your hair, and a large drape curtained off everything below your chest.
“Hey,” you said, sounding nice and calm and a little out of it. “You came.”
“Of course I came,” Eddie said. He stood next to you as the doctor got to work. He did not want to think about what was going on behind that curtain.
It wasn’t long before the doctor said “Here she is!” and the next thing Eddie knew, he heard a shrill cry. It made his heart stutter in his chest, he lost his breath. Moments later one of the nurses came around with the tiniest baby Eddie had ever seen, wrapped in a hospital blanket. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His child.
You gazed at the tiny bundle in the nurse’s arms. You were so drugged up you couldn’t really comprehend the moment, but you knew that tiny bundle was your daughter. Here at last. And alive, healthy. Pink skin and a head full of brown hair.
“Would you like to hold her?” The nurse asked as the doctor went to work on stitching you up. “We have to get her to the NICU, so only for a moment. I’m sorry.”
The NICU. Eddie didn’t want to think too hard about that. “Yes, I want to hold her.” Eddie held out his arms and the nurse gently placed the tiny baby in them.
She was so small. She felt like glass, like the most fragile thing in the world. He took in every aspect of her appearance, from her hair that matched his, to her tiny button nose, her little pink lips. Her eyes were closed, so he didn’t get to see her eye color.
He moved over to you and held the baby down for you to see. “Here she is,” he whispered to you. “Our baby girl.”
You smiled a loopy smile, but you could feel the love practically bursting out of your chest. “Hi, Lottie,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “Charlotte Mae.”
Charlotte did great, and had none of the problems common in premature babies. It was a miracle, and you were so grateful.
There was a knock at your door before it opened. Robin walked in, Steve trailing behind her. They both had smiles on their faces and held gift bags. Steve held a bouquet of beautiful flowers. He wore a yellow sweater and jeans, his long hair styled. You couldn’t help but notice how cute he was.
“Hey, mama, how are you feeling?” Robin greeted, coming over and giving you a kiss on the cheek. She looked down at the sleeping baby in your arms. “Hi, Lottie!”
“We’re doing good,” you said, a tired smile on your face. Eddie had been over earlier, but had to leave when Chrissy called the hospital phone, demanding he come home. It had made your chest ache, especially when he obeyed.
“Hey,” Steve said, moving to your other side. He held up the flowers. “I, uh, brought these for you.”
“Had the idea, picked them out, and bought them himself,” Robin said, wiggling her eyebrows.
The way Steve was looking at you did something to you, something felt deep in your chest. “Thank you,” you smiled at him. “They’re beautiful.”
“We also brought you these,” Robin said, placing both gift bags on your lap. One was purple with pink tissue paper, and the other was blue with yellow paper. “Can Auntie Robs hold her now?”
“Of course,” you replied, gently passing the tiny bundle into Robin’s waiting arms. She held the baby like a natural, gently rocking her.
You reached for the purple bag first. You pulled the paper out and found a comfy pair of pajamas for yourself, and a matching set for Charlotte. There was a card inside that read, I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be the best mom ever! Love, Auntie Robs.
You almost teared up, looking at Robin. “Thank you,” you said. “This means so much.”
“Of course,” she smiled. “Now open Steve’s!”
You laughed as you grabbed the blue bag and removed the paper. Inside you found an assortment of candy, and a small teddy bear. A card inside read Motherhood looks beautiful on you. You’re going to rock it. I’m glad we’ve become friends. Love, Steve.
“How did you know I have a sweet tooth?” You asked Steve with a laugh. You couldn’t focus on his note right now unless you really wanted to cry.
“Robin,” he laughed. “She filled me in.”
Robin and Steve visited for as long as they could, taking turns holding Charlotte and helping to take care of both her and you. You were so grateful to have such support, such amazing friends.
Custody was a whole other ordeal. You and Eddie had agreed that he would get Charlotte every other weekend, starting when she was 5 months old and could take a bottle when she was with Eddie since you were breastfeeding.
It worked out, Eddie didn’t argue with you much unless Chrissy started convincing him to, as she sometimes did. He started missing his scheduled weekends, claiming plans with Chrissy. The thing is that Chrissy knew what weekends Eddie had Charlotte, and she would do this on purpose. And he just let her.
It made you so mad. Lottie deserved better than this. She deserved a father who was excited to see her any chance he got. You began to resent Eddie more and more.
It was Saturday night, and Eddie had bailed for the weekend again. He was taking Chrissy to Indianapolis to spend the weekend and go shopping. Honestly, you were in the mood for a good cry.
Not only was Eddie bailing on his visitation, but he was also pushing for more. You didn’t understand it, but you knew who was behind it. Chrissy just liked stirring up shit between you and Eddie. You were convinced she got a kick out of it.
You figured the best way to get a good cry was to go rent a sappy movie. You were sure a good romance would have you sobbing within the hour. You packed Lottie’s diaper bag, strapped her in her car seat, and drove to Family Video.
You smiled when you saw Steve behind the counter through the glass doors. He was on the phone as you walked in, but he gave you a big smile and held up a finger to tell you to hold on a second. You started browsing the movies, seeing what was available.
Steve got off the phone as quickly as possible, rushing over to your side. “Hey, Lottie,” he greeted the baby on your hip, making her giggle and reach for him. You handed her off as Steve happily took her. “So, what brings you in today? Not that I’m not excited to see you.”
You couldn’t help but smile at Steve. “Rough weekend. I need a good cry.”
He frowned. “Why?”
You sighed. “Just Eddie and Chrissy stuff. The usual.”
Steve nodded in understanding, but it pissed him off. He hated the hell Eddie and his girlfriend put you through on a constant basis. He wished he could make it better. “So you need a sad movie?”
“Yeah. Any recommendations?”
He thought for a minute. He browsed the shelves as Lottie played with his name tag. “Hmm…oh!” He reached forward and plucked a VHS off the shelf. “This one will get you for sure.”
You took it from his hands. “Steel Magnolias. I haven’t seen it.”
“Oh, it’ll definitely make you cry,” Steve laughed as you examined the tape, reading the back synopsis.
“Do you know that because it made you cry?” You teased, a playful smile on your lips as you looked at him again.
Steve blushed bright red. “Maybe.”
You laughed, poking him in the side. “Who knew you were such a sap, Steve Harrington.”
“Hey,” he said, holding up his free hand in surrender. “Chicks dig a guy who’s in tune with his emotions.”
“Is that so?”
“It is so,” Steve confirmed with a grin. You could never wipe the smile off your face when Steve was around. He was just so fun, and kind, and funny. He was a great friend, and cute, too, if you let yourself admit it.
You exchanged the tape for Lottie then followed Steve back to the counter where he checked you out. “Just one movie tonight?”
“Yeah. I pass out too early now to watch more than one.”
Steve chuckled as he scanned the tape and pulled up your account. He clicked on his computer for a few seconds before a receipt began to print. “Alright, you’re all set.”
“Thanks,” you smiled as you took the tape and receipt from him. “I’ll see you around, Steve!” You turned and began walking to the front door, ready to get home, get Lottie comfy in bed, then watch your movie.
“Hey,” Steve said, stopping you. You turned around, confused.
“What’s up?”
“Um…” Steve cleared his throat. “Would you…want to go out sometime?” His voice was nervous, like you’d never heard it before.
His words caught you off guard. You raised your eyebrows, switching the baby to the other arm. “What?”
“Go out? Like, on a date?”
You blinked at him. “You want to go on a date…with me?”
“Yeah,” he smiled nervously at you. “I’ve…been wanting to ask you out for a while. But you just had so much going on, I didn’t want to add more stress to your plate…”
“Steve, you could never do anything but make my life better. I love spending time with you.”
He beamed at that. “Yeah? Well…would you want to go on a date with me?”
“Sure,” you smiled. “I would love that.”
You finished packing up Charlotte’s bag, making sure it was stocked with plenty of clothes and her favorite toys, including the teddy bear Steve had given her, which was her absolute favorite. Eddie had plenty of diapers and wipes at his house so you didn’t have to worry about that.
You had your date with Steve tonight. He was going to be picking you up shortly after Lottie left, so you had already gotten ready. You wore a short little dress that you’d been waiting for an excuse to wear forever, your hair hung perfectly, and you had done some light makeup. You hadn’t dressed up like this and gone on a date in…ever.
There was a knock at the door right on time. “There’s daddy!” You told Charlotte, who smiled big and clapped her little hands together. You scooped her up and headed for the front door, opening it to reveal Eddie.
Eddie smiled at Charlotte, but immediately took notice of your look. “Where are you going all dolled up? Got a hot date?” He asked, a sneer in his voice.
Your smile dropped. So he was going to be like this today. “Yeah. I do, actually.”
Eddie didn’t like that. The thought of it struck an unusual and unwelcome jealousy into his chest. “With who?”
“That’s none of your business,” you said. You handed over Charlotte’s bag. “I can do whatever I want. You cheated on me, remember?”
He didn’t acknowledge your second comment. “It is my business if you’re bringing my daughter around some guy.”
You stared him down. “Well, you bring your mistress around our daughter, so I don’t think you have the right to say anything.”
Eddie’s eyes darkened. “Chrissy is my girlfriend.”
“Sure.” You turned to Charlotte, smiling at her. “I’ll see you Sunday, baby girl. I love you so much.” You gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek before handing her off to Eddie. “I’ll see you Sunday.”
Eddie left, and you sighed. You took some deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. You would not let Eddie ruin this night. This was your first time being asked on a date, and you were going to have a good time.
It was about 15 minutes later that Steve picked you up. He looked handsome, wearing a button up shirt and jeans. He held a beautiful bouquet of flowers that he handed you as you opened the door.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, and you could tell from his voice that he truly meant it. You blushed deeply as you took the flowers.
“Thank you,” you smiled. Steve followed you into the apartment, stepping over toys as you walked into the kitchen. You grabbed a vase and filled it with water, placing the flowers inside.
“Where are we going?” You asked as you walked with Steve to his car. He held the passenger side door open for you, and you smiled at him as you slid in. He was such a gentleman.
“I was thinking, dinner and a movie is too lame, too cliche. We watch movies all the time. So,” he gestured into the backseat, “I packed us a picnic, and got us tickets to see David Bowie in the city tonight.”
You stared at him, blinking. “I…no you didn’t.”
Steve laughed. “Yeah, I did. I know you’re a big fan, and he was performing nearby, so…”
“Oh my god!” Your heart was beating out of your chest, you felt like it would explode. “Steve. Oh my god.”
Steve was very proud of himself for this one. He knew you’d freak out, but your reaction was even better than he hoped. “That’s why I asked you out tonight specifically. I, uh…already had the tickets.”
You quickly swiped a falling tear off your cheek before it could mess up your makeup. “Steve Harrington, I think I’m in love with you.”
That made Steve’s heart swell. Because he felt the same way about you.
Steve drove the two of you to the park, where you found a spot next to a large tree. He laid out the blanket and sat down the picnic basket he’d packed full of all kinds of foods. You ate together, laughing and joking and having the best time. But you couldn’t shake the buzzing excitement in your belly from the news of the concert.
It was a couple hour’s drive to the city, but it was worth it. The show was incredible, everything you dreamed seeing David Bowie would be. Steve held your hand, which sent electricity through both of your bodies.
When Steve brought you home, he walked you to your apartment door. Butterflies were flying in your stomach, still ecstatic from the most incredible date you ever could have imagined.
“I had a great time,” Steve said.
“Me too,” you agreed. “Truly. Do you…want to come in? The night doesn’t have to be over yet.”
A smile spread across Steve’s lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Steve followed you in. As you turned to him, you saw something behind his eyes. Like he was thinking, considering something. He lifted a hand and caressed the side of your face with the back of his hand, thinking he had never seen someone as beautiful in his life. “Can I kiss you?”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “I…yes.”
Steve smiled lightly. Then he was leaning in, closer and closer, until his lips pressed to yours.
Sparks flew. You kissed him back eagerly, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush to his own. The kiss turned heated, Steve pressing your back up against the wall as he kissed you passionately. His hands began sliding up the skirt of your dress.
“Steve,” you said, breathless against his lips. “Take me to my room.”
The next morning, you woke up next to Steve. He had his arm around your waist, cuddling you close. You were both naked. As you awoke, Steve did, too, pulling you closer to him and nuzzling his face into your neck. “Don’t go,” he mumbled.
“I’m not,” you giggled. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Steve asked you to be his girlfriend that morning. It may have been a little soon, but you happily said yes. You knew Steve well, he was one of your best friends. You knew you wanted to be with him.
Robin was ecstatic when you told her the news. “About time!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “Took you long enough, dingus.”
You knew you had to tell Eddie. As much as you dreaded it, he deserved to know as the father of your daughter. You waited a couple of weeks into the relationship, wanting to be sure things were going to work out before you brought it up. But your relationship with Steve was incredible, a kind of joy you never thought you could experience in a relationship.
Eddie came to the door to drop off Charlotte one Sunday evening. He was a little early, and Steve was over.
“Shit,” you hissed as he knocked at the door. “I guess it’s now or never.”
You answered the door, loving how Lottie’s face lit up at the sight of you. “Hi baby!”
“Mama!” She called, reaching for you. You took her from Eddie’s arms, sitting her on your hip. “Dada!” She exclaimed next, only she wasn’t looking at Eddie.
Steve had come up behind you, and Lottie was pointing at him. Your mouth dropped as Eddie’s face turned to one of pure anger. “What the fuck?” He said.
“I swear, I don’t know what that’s about. She’s never called him that before,” you explained quickly. Honestly Eddie deserved to have his feelings hurt, but you knew how destroyed you would be if Lottie called Chrissy Mama.
“What is he doing here anyway?” Eddie asked, gesturing towards Steve. “I don’t see Robin here. Do you have a life of your own, Harrington?”
You looked between Steve and Eddie. “Ed…me and Steve are…together.”
The words hit Eddie like a punch to the gut. He figured you would date eventually, but maybe he just got spoiled by you being single. He didn’t expect the pain of finding out you had moved on. And with Harrington? “What?”
You pursed your lips, knowing this had the potential to go badly. “We’re together. Steve is my boyfriend.”
Eddie just stared between the two of you. Then, he laughed, a sinister sounding chuckle. He knew he had no right to be pissed, but he was pissed. “Well, isn’t that just great.”
“Eddie-“
“No,” he said, holding a hand up. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You do whatever you want. Enjoy your life with Steve.”
And with that, he left. He didn’t even tell Charlotte goodbye.
Things with Steve were incredible. He was the best boyfriend you could ask for, and he was amazing with Lottie. She loved playing with him, and he could sit on the floor and play with her for hours without getting bored.
You had been together for a year and a half when he surprised you with a trip to the beach. You spent the weekend laying out in the sun, playing in the ocean, making love until the early morning in your suite.
On the last day there, you were walking down the beach hand in hand. As you were looking down at the sand for seashells, you noticed some writing in the sand. You let go of Steve’s hand to walk over and read it.
Will you marry me?
“Steve!” You exclaimed. “Look, someone proposed! How cute-“
You froze when you turned around to see Steve on one knee, holding a beautiful ring in a black velvet box. You gasped, tears immediately falling. You always were emotional.
“Will you make me the luckiest guy in the world and marry me?”
Eddie came home a little early from work one evening, and immediately knew something was wrong. He could feel it in the atmosphere before he even heard the noises. Those unmistakable noises.
He crept down the hallway, careful not to make any noise. Not that he thought he’d be noticed, anyway. Not with what he deeply suspected was going on.
He made it to the bedroom he shared with Chrissy. The door was slightly ajar, and he took a deep breath before pushing it open all the way.
Chrissy and her ex, Jason Carver, were in his bed, absolutely going at it. Eddie knew this was what was going on from the moment he walked into the apartment, but seeing it, he still felt like he’d be sick. Chrissy turned at the sound of the door opening and screamed, covering herself and Jason, who didn’t really seem to give a fuck at all.
After Jason left and Eddie was left alone with his girlfriend, he demanded the truth. She admitted she had been sleeping with Jason again for months.
Naturally, Eddie kicked her out. Then, he was alone.
Alone with only his thoughts, he had too much quiet time to think. And what he found himself thinking about was you. Far too often. He thought about your relationship, how he fucked everything up, including your lifelong friendship. Sure, he got his beautiful daughter out of it, but he could have treated you better. He should have treated you better.
He also thought about the way you’d treated him. The way you had loved him. How you were the only woman who had ever loved him, besides his mom all those years ago. How he had taken you for granted. He thought about how he would feel if some asshole treated Lottie the way he treated you. The thought itself made him furious.
Because now that Chrissy was gone and he was no longer blinded by his lifelong crush, he was realizing something:
Eddie loved you.
Not just as the mother of his child, or as a platonic friend, but love love. The kind he had been too blind to see back in high school, back during the days of your relationship.
He hated himself now. He had fucked up more than was even fathomable. He had thrown you away, for Chrissy. You were so much better than Chrissy in every way. Prettier, smarter, funnier, kinder. And you had treated him well.
Eddie dwelled on it for months. He grabbed his mail from the mailbox as he headed into his trailer one day, flipping through the various bills and junk mail - until he stopped at one with your name on it.
He dropped the other pieces of mail in his rush to open that one. He nearly ripped it in half getting it open, and as he pulled out the card inside, his blood ran cold.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mr. and Mrs Harrington.
It was too late.
tags
@ali-r3n @crispystarfishhottub
#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson imagine#steve harrington imagine#joseph quinn#joseph quinn smut#joseph quinn x reader#joe keery#joe keery x reader#eddie munson x you#steve harrington x you#eddie munson oneshot#steve harrington oneshot#eddie munson one shot#steve harrington one shot#eddie munson x fem! reader#steve harrington x fem! reader#eddie munson x female reader#steve harrington x female reader#eddie stranger things#steve stranger things#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x y/n#steve harrington x y/n#eddie munson fanfic
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────── 𝐵𝐴𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆
𝐹𝑇. 𝑅𝐼𝑁 𝐼𝑇𝑂𝑆𝐻𝐼 // you are sae's sweetheart, but things take an interesting turn when his younger brother starts to fancy you. [ 6.7k ]
cw ! nsfw + mdni. yandere / cheating themes. afab / sister-in-law reader. reader is in an established relationship w/ sae. male masterbation. fingering. oral recieving (f). size kink / corruption kink (kinda). rin calls reader nee-san. (pseudocest) debut + self indulgent (no comments) ?@?#?@
dear reader ! i am excited to share this! rin + this trope had hogged my mind so well... disclaimer ! i have no experience in writing smut and english is not my first language. the food idea was from a convo with grayy (thankyou), biggest thanks to renaa the supportt grr ily <33 and TORII! ( @twitoshi ) baby so grateful to have thoughts from youu!! ilysm !! #BESTBETAEVER.AAH KISSINGYOU SO HARD RN T^T
The hot water ran down your back, draining away the soreness of the busy day. It was later than usual, and you did wait long for Rin before intruding his bathroom for a late night shower. It came to this, all because the showerhead in your room was broken. So, after an hour long you just invited yourself into his room.
His room was so devoid of things, it felt colder than before with his presence gone for so long, unlike Sae’s. But it was only that way thanks to you taking out the time to decorate and buy pieces for the apartment. So, when Rin started staying over, you set one for him.
“When you get a girlfriend, she can decorate this place all she wants…” You had joked hinting he could move in, when you took him out shopping. “I do not plan to date anytime soon.”
Ever since you met Rin at the family dinner, you adored him, instantly. You had always longed for a perfect family, and he seemed to fit so well. Since then you made it a point to visit him with treats and new movies to talk about, inviting him over for dinners whenever you got a chance, which were usually turned down. Yet you were so driven to keep him around, it didn’t matter. Being aware of how things went down between the two brothers, you were careful to not step on any toes, but still looking out for Rin always and making sure he felt welcomed to spend time with you and Sae.
“I don't mean to pressure you Rinnie-” Rinnie, he frowned at the nickname making you correct yourself in an instant. He didn't consider you close enough to be giving him nicknames yet it felt oddly comforting the way his name rolled off your tongue, a sense of affection he didn't realise you dug in him. “Rin- I mean... I don't mean to overstep between you brothers, but I’m always here if you want to get things off your chest or just a friend. Consider me your nee-san Rinnie…” You smiled sweetly at him, tenderly cupping his cheek. The warm affection of your kind nature disgusted him, but you shrugged off lovingly. It went over a few times, until he got around to calling you that. Nee-san. And he was your Rinnie from the start.
Sae, for a matter of fact, wasn't dismissive of Rin's presence. He even offered to let him stay over if he wished to. The first time Rin accepted the invite, he barely slept at all. The walls weren’t thin, but you were so goddamn loud—every sound and moan reaching him despite the concrete. Hoping it would pass, he put on some music. But, even that failed to drown your whines. He considered leaving or at least knocking on both of your doors, but the soft, lewd moans seeping through the walls invaded his mind uncontrollably. It was obscene to picture you but he didn't fight it. The depths of his heart, twisting shamelessly into what was the tip of his infernal yearnings. Every stolen glance, every touch in the shadows, sowed into an unaware desire. Giving in to your angelic voice, laced with sultry undertone that rang in his ears, making every minute feel like torture. The line of right or wrong blurred so easily. It poisoned him. It was repulsive how despite his better judgement, you coaxed him to pull down his boxers.
The next morning could’ve been better had you not walked out in one of Sae's tanks, barely covering anything, tying your hair up, your face puffed, as you approached the kitchen station. “Fuck” You shrieked, finding him in your kitchen. Did you not remember he stayed over?
“Sorry, Rinnie,” you said, sitting by the station, leaning over the island lazily. “Sae and I got around to drinking a little. He is off practice this week, we-we got a little carried away…” Your voice was sheepish, falling into a chuckle as the memories of last night replayed fresh. You blushed drifting off.
“What you doing baby?” Baby, you never gave it a rest did you? Your chest displayed purple marks from the night before as you hunched over. Rin couldn't help but steal a few glances down at your body. Glowing despite your hungover and the messily tied up hair. It was perfect, accentuating your exposed neck. His eyes drawn to the sight of you, as you arched and stretched with half lidded sleepy eyes. He ogled at your pebbling nipples poking through the white tee, so perked and tightening by your sides as the tee somehow managed to concede it. Last night, he palmed himself to your whimpers, and the way you sat right now was inviting for something more. The idea of fancying you was alone be loathing, yet the more he hated, the more eagerly he stripped you naked in his head.
“Baby...” Sae’s morning voice followed from behind making Rin immediately look away. Whatever you did, had his nii-chan wrapped around your finger. Sae squished your face roughly up to meet his, pulling you into a hasty kiss. He held you so recklessly, with no manner or care, Rin watched his brother manhandle you from the corner of eye. The redhead’s lips linger on your mouth, as you sneak a taste in between, sticking your tongue out wide for him to play on. His fingers traced your neck as you gulped, you didn’t care how he touched you in front of another; if anything, you fed into his ego. You mumbled sweet nothings teasingly as you wished him a good morning, your eyes twinkling with mischief. It was as if you revelled in the attention, the subtle touches, and the way it made him feel. Rin’s gaze followed your tongue, licking the corners of your mouth, the crunch of your subtle bites aimed for Sae and Sae alone. The inconsiderate touches, sickened Rin, toying with him like a puppet. Even when Sae pulled away, finally acknowledging Rin, you pressed yourself against his stomach softly. His hands roamed confidently across your chin all through your neck, as though mocking his younger brother. You seemed to enjoy the raw affection of your lover. The rough demanding touches, building fantasies of how you liked it.
“Slept well?” Sae snapped, shattering the thoughts that had been swirling in Rin’s mind as if they were loud enough to be heard by his older brother. A cold shiver ran down his back upon hearing Sae’s voice. It made him feel fifteen again—weak, naive, his confidence crushed in an instant. He hated the feeling rising in his chest, making it hard to swallow. Did nii-chan know? No, that would be silly. His eyes remained fixed on the floor.
“Be nice, Sae!” you whispered softly, wasn't this unbearable enough that you were rushing to his defence.
“I slept fine,” Rin lied, his voice barely more than a murmur.
“Okay, stay for brunch,” Sae hummed, his attempt at being nice, then shifted his attention, “and you…” Just two words from Sae had you standing instantly, leaving Rin feeling utterly invisible.
Rin clenched his fists, heart pounding as he slowly realised he was becoming a prisoner of his own thoughts of you. The way Sae held you, the way you kissed Sae with such fervour—it filled him with both longing and frustration. The more his brother possessed you, the more Rin ached to hold you in the same way, to make you his. He convinced himself he could treat you better than Sae ever would, love you more than you could imagine.
Rin started crashing over more often, always around whenever Sae was away. You had found a friend to keep you company, but for Rin, your presence plagued him. He couldn’t escape the sight of you, You began showing up at his practices after work whenever you could, and it only made things worse—or maybe better. He couldn't decide. The wardrobe choices set him into a spiral. The cute low-cut floral dresses, hugging your body a little too tight had him wiping his drool between the game. Every time he scored you cheered praising him from the benches. You paid attention to his play, unwavering. He hated the looks his teammates passed at you. You were his Nee-chan, only he possessed the right to look at you, though insane, it was perfectly rationalised to him.
Despite his ignorant pretending—your doe-like eyes and the softness in your voice that only served to annoy him further. Sometimes, pushing it too far, babying him in front of everyone. He knew deep down you meant well, however this show of affection deeply fumed his annoyance— Yet, he indulged in it every minute around you. The way you were so small in his comparison, wrapping your arms around his large frame—he practically towered over you—tip-toeing in your high heels, to shuffle his hair for his performance. Always looking up to him, eyebrows raised, shimmery eyes, as you blinked dreamily, you were clawing your way under his skin, it was nauseating to picture how pretty you’d be under him. Beneath his sneer and frustration, there was an undeniable craving for the attention you lavished on him.
He found himself groaning alone, devoid of you, setting a rhythm to his jerks. Mind left to run wild, a devil’s spawn. He desired the intimacy of your touches right now. Your hands, so much smaller and softer than his own, your wide beautiful innocent eyes fluttering with tears as you’d take him in your mouth. The image of your red lips latching onto his cock, would it fit? He’d make it fit. Losing his mind to have you on your knees, tits bouncing as he’d push his length down further. The mouth that kissed him with words, he would fuck it so well. Make you so cock drunk on him, until you're begging for more, intoxicated by his veins. Did you enjoy playing these sick mind games with him? Being so careless, bumping into him on purpose, making him catch you by the waist. Did you like to sweep your hands as an excuse to stand straight every time you stumbled. Did you pretend to fall asleep when you both watched movies, tugging tightly onto his shirt? But he held back. He held back when he would put you in your bed. When he could smell himself on you in the morning. He would love you better, fuck you harder than his nii-chan could ever, if you ever open yourself to him... Did you see him the way he saw you? Numbing his sense of awareness, until it all disappeared into nothing but you. You, your scent, your being consuming him every second. Rin’s head fell back to the cold water running down. “Nee-san” he moaned, cursing you. He would ruin you in unimaginable ways, nestle in your mouth, make you swallow him as whole, will you do that for him? Your mouth filled with him, gloss smeared in his cum. He practically drooled again, head thrown back, the faster his hand rutted the clearer his visions got. The hate that disappeared in between slipped back once the translucent fluid messed about his hand. Fucking disgusting nee-san.
“You took so long Rinnie…” You pouted worrisomely, “Did something happen?” The thought alone had him softening for you. Again. It was the same face you made whenever Sae’s flights got delayed. It irked him. It took all of him to not sneer and tell you it was your fault. Why did you show up in these skimpy clothes? “It was nothing nee-san” Instead he brushed off, with a frown. No matter how hard Rin lied at the end of the day, it was you who he found himself running back to. Just one last time he told himself before he gave into it every single night.
“Rinnie, taste this” you put your hand holding his favourite sauce, “I've been trying to get this right... Tell me if you like it” You were overbearing to him. The more around you were, the more frustrating it got for him at times. Always intruding with a yearning gaze, a full curve smile, having you around was bad for him he knew. But not being around you was far worse for him. Miserable, it felt miserable to have his pants strained at mere gestures of you, to not be the one to kiss you all the places you touched yourself thinking of his brother. You did everything with him, but fucked his brother. Were you so unaware of what effect you had on him?
His brows furrowed, tasting the sweetness off your finger, it wasn't intentional but his tongue swept off a little further. You didn't flinch at all. “You like it?” There it was again. “Hmm...” He only grumbled, but his eyes widened for what you did next. Rin hung to your every moment as you licked your finger back, savouring the sweet sour taste of the sauce. “It is good!” Wasn’t it enough he woke up in the middle of the night to your moans and whimpers, deranging him of reality, that you put new images in his head.
“Do you think Sae will like it?”
There it was—the fracture in his perfect illusion. Sae. Always Sae. Each time Rin felt a thread of closeness with you, his brother’s name would slip from your lips, ripping Rin’s carefully woven fantasy apart. Rin blamed Sae. How could you—so pure, so innocent—see anything in a man like him? Sae wasn’t there to hold you when you twisted in your bed, buried in pillows restless and aching for him. All while he laid awake in the dead of night, waiting for your breathing to slow, your voice to whisper softly in your sleep. Rin, learnt your patterns. He saw the way you tossed and turned, your body subconsciously reaching out for something that wasn’t there. And it enraged him—Sae wasn’t even here, so coudln’t you shake him off your mind.
Rin turned over in bed, teeth gritted as he clutched your panties—so conveniently forgotten—held tight in his fist. Your scent overwhelmed his senses, lacing his thoughts with heat that crawled under his skin. He breathed deep into the fabric, inhaling every little bit of you, eyes closed, imagining your touch on his skin, your soft moans filling his ears. His hand moved faster, body drowned in need, but then it came—his name, spilling from your lips even in your sleep. A cruel reminder of the barrier that always stood between him and you.
The night your phone rang, you were still blissfully unaware, passed out from drinking too much, lost in your oblivious dreams. Rin glanced at your phone—Sae <3. His brother’s name flashed on the screen. A tightness in his throat knotting him, knowing Sae didn’t deserve the glimpse into your life that Rin guarded so fiercely.
Sae’s raised eyebrow surprised to see his brother. "Where is she?"
Rin swallowed thickly, his voice struggling to stay steady. “She’s asleep—”
But before he could finish, you stirred, murmuring that cursed name even in your haze of sleep. "Sae?"
A flash of something dark surged in Rin. You were in his bed, surrounded by his warmth, while your mind still lingered on his brother.
The decision snapped in his mind—he couldn’t keep living like this. He had to have you, fully, irrevocably. But fear clenched his gut. You loved Sae, that was undeniable, but he knew you felt something for him, too. You couldn’t fake the moments when your gaze lingered too long, when you called him your sweet "Rinnie" with a tenderness that drove him insane.
In some world, it could have been enough, but right now it wasn’t. He wanted more. He wanted everything.
So, Rin pulled back. He needed you to want him, need him, in the same consuming way he needed you. It was a sick game, and he was prepared to play it. If you couldn’t give him what he wanted, then he’d make you see it. No more nights spent in your bed, no more tender moments when you fell asleep in his arms. It was excruciating.You missed him, but he articulated his excuse so well you believed him without doubt. Drowning in self loathe, he hated lying to you.
But tonight, he promised to come back. You had wanted to cook for him, but work ended so late, and now you were hoping Rin would bring something to eat.
His phone rang thrice, your name screened, before he muted it. He had made promises to you, sure, but those felt distant, half-forgotten. He wanted to keep his little chase up, but she made him feel more than a man he had ever felt with you. She did not weigh down his insecurities, always being second best; She was more composed than you could ever be. She was prettier, better than you, and kissed him, so why did his mind wander off to your cherry lips, digging in his subconsciousness he tried to deny. You were the one he slept next to. Deaf to her voice, pulsating to your memories. Every step away from you only brought him closer.
The date ended not too late. When he checked his phone again, the screen read 11:23. Five missed calls. Four unread texts.
06:33 PM: Rinnie, have some last minute work, might be an hour or two late. Sorry to cancel dinner tonite :(((
07:54 PM: Can you get takeout if you’re still coming over? I will be home by 10.
10:24 PM: If you’re not coming it’s fine… I’m just worried about you…
10:25 PM: I hope you're safe, baby.
He would’ve ignored you the way it was going, make you work for it like he had planned it out, but upon dialling back when you did not pick up, He felt the surge of urgency to see you for himself. He should be driving back with his girlfriend, but he wasn’t. The little facade breaking down, he was never going to win. So depraved of you since these past days, he couldn't hold back. You made him so weak. Had he left you alone for too long? He could taste the guilt, bitter in his throat. Fuck. Knowing that the one time you asked for him—needed him—he had failed you. Why didn’t you just give him a reason to hate you?
“Nee-san...” His voice broke through the thick silence as he dialled for delivery, pacing, the sound of running water echoing from the bathroom. You hadn’t expected him to come at all, not after the cold silence between you. He heard the water stop, then your voice, soft and distant. “Rinnie, I’m in here,” you called from his room.
His breath hitched. You were in his room. His pulse raced as he stepped closer, mouth dry when he saw you emerge, a towel wrapped loosely around your body.
“The shower head was broken, sorry for intruding… I’ll get it fixed.” you explained, a little embarrassed at the scene. You sounded distant. Did he make you feel that way now? Did his presence not comfort you anymore? Why did you have to apologise like that? Were you upset that he was gone? Did he just fuck up everything by not thinking this through?
His eyes travelled down your wet body, God he missed your reckless ways in which you moved, the light in your eyes that had once pulled him in like gravity. He missed you, but this time around you had missed him equally, or more. “I thought you weren't showing up? You barely come over anymore” You shuffled around picking your things walking around him as he stood like a statue, a strange feeling he couldn't stomach.
“Uh- I was with a friend-”
“Oh.” Oh? You didn’t ask for details, didn’t tease him the way you always did. Just that one word—so cold, so unlike you. The silence suffocated him as he watched you walk out of the room, he followed. He felt uneasy with this feeling festering in his chest. Afterall he meant for all this to happen, but the hostility was maddening.
“Umm-”
You put your clothes in the laundry and he stuttered to find his words, laying out your night pyjamas, “Did you forget something?” You spoke so plainly it hurt his cavity. “Umm.. dinner.. I ordered dinner, creamy cheese pasta and pesto sauce.. you like that nee-san” desperate for a sign that you still cared.
You sighed, barely a whisper, “I-” the way his eyes changed, the hindrance of guilt covering his face. “... I can't say no to that but first I need to change…” You stretched the curtain on his face. He turned around. Curiosity getting the better of him, he heard the soft rustle of fabric, the faint thud of your towel hitting the floor. His mind raced, his body tense, picturing you there, so close yet so far.. “Did you not get my texts Rinnie..?”
Moment of truth? He never wanted you to learn about her, He knew what he should say. He knew how easy it would be to lie, to smooth over this mess. Still, his tongue caught between confession and deceit.
“Don’t lie to me baby”
“I- I was on a date..” He blurted.
You froze, the air between you thickening. You pushed the curtain aside, your expression a mix of disbelief and something darker—something that sent a chill down his spine. “A date?” Rin with a girlfriend didn't quite sit easy with you. It was rather strange and out of character from what you've come to know about him.
He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting away. “Yeah. It... it was nothing.”
“Nothing?” you echoed, disbelief tinged with something sharp. You stared at him, waiting for more, waiting for something that made sense. Because this wasn’t like Rin.
Rin felt trapped under the weight of your eyes. “I didn’t— It just... happened.” His voice cracked at the end, frustration lacing every word. “I thought... I thought maybe I could forget for a while.” He was inaudible but you heard him.
“Forget what?” you asked, voice quieter now.
Forget you.
“Nothing.”
—
You busied yourself in the kitchen, the dinner had to be nothing less than perfect. Rin had always been more reserved, keeping to himself, but tonight felt different. He finally planned a dinner at your place with his girlfriend, and though you couldn't quite pinpoint why, there was something about it that made you feel uneasy. And god forbid if you could read his mind. You didn’t understand why he had been so hesitant—he always dodged the topic when you asked, giving vague answers, as if he wasn’t ready to fully admit she existed. From the little he told you, she seemed lovely, but each time he mentioned her, a knot twisted in your stomach. It didn’t make sense, not until tonight, when you finally met her.
The devil lied in the details, it was subtle swatches across his shoulder, the they she caressed his face, licking the corner of her mouth. How she pushed her hair back, her eyes motioning slowly for Rin, the sparkle of joy. The realisation crept in slowly, the way she styled herself, the way she moved... It was like looking in a mirror, a distorted version of yourself. It wasn't blatantly obvious, but you read her like a book. Both of your reactions to Rin were almost mirroring. Almost as if a hastily built clone with no care. It couldn't be, it was a pure coincidence. Rin’s hand rested possessively on her waist as they stood together, his fingers clutching tightly around her. It looked strange—wrong, even. Your baby was flying from the nest, and this was just jitters, you just wanted the best for him. And who but you knew what was best for him.
You glanced at the clock, feeling the heaviness in your chest grow as you placed the crockery out. You stared at nothing in particular, lost in your thoughts, the clinking of dishes becoming mechanical. “Nee san?” Rin called out breaking through your wall. He stood tall behind you, his body casting a shadow as he towered you catching the sipping plate. His brows furrowed, concerned. You blinked, realising you had been staring directly at him, yet completely lost in your own mind. Past weeks, even though he put an effort to be around, you had been pulling away no matter how hard he tried, a failed attempt each time. You stopped coming for his practices all together. No shopping, maybe he was overthinking, what if it was just a misunderstanding and you were mad at his brother? It edged him every passing day. The distance was unbearable, like a punishment he couldn’t understand, He was the same boy? Did getting a girlfriend bothered you so much, but you were so sincere around him. Then, why won’t you just hold him like before? It was cruel even for you to treat him this way. And tonight bothered you beyond resolute.
“Are you... okay?” Rin’s voice was tight, his eyes traced the way you fidgeted with the red strings tied around your dress, your gaze shifting to anything but him.
“I’m fine” You say faintly, losing focus again as you stumble, reaching out to the stone slab. Rin instinctively caught you by the sides. His large hands swiftly slipped down. It wasn't something he had ever planned to do, but the moment called for it. He had held back for so long, always looking in from shadows, but right now you were pressed against his torso, your dress slid up from the friction. Drunk from your tired, heavy gaze, he felt losing control of it. Your perfume filled him to the brim.
“What’s going on with you?” He snapped clenching his jaw, his frustration getting the better of him. You shuddered at the raised voice, making him instantly regret it, squirmed a little in his brace, but his grip untouched.
“You’ve changed…”
The words fell short in his mouth, you assumed he'd break away to let you slip, but his fists tightened, riding your dress higher.
“Rin... What are you-” You breathed heavily. The sound of his name on your lips was his undoing. The last straw, when you were so fragile at his bay. His dick throbbed as your bodies pressed on tighter, leaving no space in between. Longing fingers, motioned hesitantly, searching their way around your thighs.
“Changed? Huh?” He growled, pressing on further, “Why? Because I don’t let you cling to me anymore? Because I’m tired of being second best to him?” His words came out in a rush, his breath hot and vexed as he tried to make sense of the storm raging inside. How easy for you to tell him he changed. He didn’t know whether to hate you or fall apart in your hands or to remind you he was the same man. Regardless of how much he fought it, he couldn't pull away. You were too close, too tempting, and every second you spent in his grasp only fed his conflicting emotions.
You smiled faintly, brushing your fingers lightly across his chest. "Is that what you think? That you're second best?" Your voice was dipped in honey. “Is that why she is sitting outside?... Is that why you stopped coming home, to me?” glassed eyes pierced his teal one. Rin hated how easily you got under his skin, how simply you twisted his emotions until he couldn’t think straight. But even as he tried to maintain his stand, he felt himself crumbling at you breaking down.
His fingers brushed against the dampness of your arousal, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you moaned softly, shutting your eyes helplessly leaning into him. The sound sent electricity straight through him. Your hands reached up, clutching at his turtleneck, pulling him down to meet your gaze. “You hurt me like that Rinnie” Your doe eyes still held their innocence, but the predator in you was clear as day, making him kneel. Wicked. He was going to make up for all the shit he had put you through, correction, the mess you deluded him he put you through. Rin lifted the scarlet hem, to find the black laced panties sticking wet. His date was the last thing on his mind. Even if the world were ending, it wouldn’t have mattered. He needed you first—needed you more than anything else. Without hesitation, he pushed your panties to the side and latched his tongue onto your wetness, desperate to taste you.
You were perfect, gorgeous the way your pussy split open to his tongue, it was a sight he never in a million wild dreams could have imagined. You felt the cool aire being replaced by his spit. Tongue roughly sweeping across your slit. His sharp moves drew out lewd noises, “Slo-ah-ahw dah-own” you squirmed as your legs started closing in from the rough pace. Rin didn't want to savour any taste, all he needed was to relinquish his thirst for you for months now, empowering all his other senses. The heat radiating from your core, your peachy lips parted in pleasure—it turned him into a monster, one you had created. “Fuck, just cum on my tongue” Rin sloppily spoke, breaking in between kissing your sweetness. The wet smacking sound filled the space, as he blew into your cunt making you cm messily. The milky fluid he lapped, pushing his tongue inside, as your body twitched on him. It wasn’t enough, you rushed this one. Start over.
He pushed one of your legs over his shoulder, letting your weight rest on him. Every flick of his tongue, a desperate attempt to hear you moan his name once. And when you bit your lips, eating up your pleasure, it only made him more feral, more determined to claim you. His pace quickened, your fingers tangling in his teal locks, stroking in and out in reach of something sturdy.
You squirmed over his face. Your sweet core was so welcoming, he could stay like this for hours—devouring you, making you cum over and over until you were nothing but a trembling, blissed-out mess. He groaned against your sensitive skin, sucking on your swollen lips, gripping them between his teeth with just enough pressure to make you cry out. Every sound you made drove him further into madness, desperate to keep you on the edge, completely lost to the sensation of his mouth on you.
“Did you miss me so m-much-uh.. I thought yuh- didn-t mpph- like your nee-san a-anymore” You moaned, pushing yourself into his face shamelessly.Your head threw back surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure he brought on. It was a blissful sight. He resented himself as staying away from you, but instead of words he just wanted to show you.
Rin was merciless, curling his slender fingers inside you, with no rhythm or restraint, just pure starvation to break you on his hand. He didn’t care for setting a pace, his thrusts were wild and desperate, matching the chaos in his mind.The dining room way away thankfully, but part of him liked the thrill that his date could walk in at any moment, finding him knuckles deep in you. Hell, he needed his nii chan to walk the sight of you pleading him to go faster.
He abruptly stood up, slamming you against the fridge. It was hot even for him to be so aggressive around you. Rin, blushed seeing how much you liked it. The way your body reacted, sliding into orgasm, your knees growing weak, he had been edging you for so long. “Look at me nee-san” Bitterness coated the words that dripped out of his mouth, while you struggled to keep your eyes open, as they fluttered shut with each curl of his fingers, coursing through your pleasure. Saturated on his tongue and now fingers, you whimpered, clawing his sweater.
Even when vulnerable, you were in control, you somehow still held him on a leash. Him, nothing more than a guard dog abiding by your play. He would, he would do it in a heartbeat for you. Your tightness sucked him whole but it wasn't enough, you needed more. “More Rinnie” You didn't care for the guest. You didn’t care about anything but this, so loud, peppering with ghost kisses all over his lips. His thumb ran circles on your neglected clit, pushing another finger inside.Your breath hitched, nearing your close, rutting your skin on his hand, chasing that peak.
Rin lost to the sight of your body jolting and twitching as you came on his fingers. Trembling from your orgasm you rode your high, and he held you. You deeply breathed and he pulled his fingers out intended to make you taste yourself but you got him first, smiling innocently, getting him to suck his own fingers lapped in your cum.
Then, with a soft, teasing smile, you pulled your panties down, stepping out of them before pausing. Your eyes flicked down to his painfully hard length pressing against his pants, and you grazed your fingers over it, making him hiss.Your walk wobbly, throwing him a bone letting him feel you up.
"I'll take care of this later…" you whispered. "She’s waiting." You say, slipping your panties in his pocket.
The reminder of his date hit like a slap, though it only made the burn of his desire for you stronger. You always had him wrapped around your finger, and now he was left to endure the torture of dinner with her—while all he could think about was how soon he could return to you.
The entire Dinner was a pure torture for him. On one side his girlfriend held his hand and across the table your foot snaking up his thigh. He choked on his food when you pressed against his bulge. “Rinnie are you okay?” both of you moved in for him. You pretended to have no clue. He gritted his teeth. If he wasn't just knuckles deep in you, he would've bought the act. It got worse from there, when you asked how long until the two of them were dating. “A week” A week. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly under your breath.
“I am glad it is working out, I was always so worried for Rinnie” You cooed, your tone laced with condescension and sarcasm, only he understood.
Rin couldn’t focus on anything else, couldn’t even enjoy the food, not when you kept getting up to pass the dishes around, reminding him with each movement that you weren't wearing any panties beneath your dress. Your dress seemed to hike, painting his memory.
By the time the dinner finally ended, Rin felt like he had been dragged through hell, his mind and body on edge. His girlfriend was completely unaware, talking cheerfully as he hastily booked a cab, desperate to get her home so he’d have you to himself.
The door didn't fully close behind Rin, and he had you pushed back to the wall. This new side to him, unravelled, pressing you harshly onto you. He spit words in your face, “I fucking hate you to my gut…Nee san” He spat bitter words, brain shutting down driven by nothing but pure hunger to swallow you. You had played him like a rag doll and it was getting clear to him. Yet, somehow even his cynicism laced you with warmth inside.
Your eyes stayed floored from underlying discomfort from his actions and not the words, “Is that what you told yourself when you went…” you paused for a second and then your eyes mirrored his, “...and found the next girl who’d give you the same feelings as me?” You read him, you read his ways so effortlessly. “I thought you’d do better Rinnie… Do you think she’ll love you the same, just because she acts like me?” your eyes, endearing, a perfect escape for the devil to reside in. He found himself unable to escape from his reflection he saw in you. “She won't take care of you… like I do.”
You sheepishly slipped into his side, his heart raced when you were so close to him. He knew exactly where it led. “Rinnie'' You said in a low voice comforting his little insecurities. “I know you better than they all can ever…” Pulling away, leaving a trail of kisses along his cheek all the way till his body was reacting on its own, throwing his head back, making you climb on him, letting it linger for a moment til he regained himself of what he truly was. Vile. “...ever try to be. I won’t let them take you from me…” You cupped his cheek, without a hesitation he was drawn into your brace. Head resting on the soft fabric hearing his heart thump. He found himself unable to escape from the gentle arms that hung loosely. Words lost his way from his mouth,, but this was far more comforting than anything in his life has ever felt. “She won't take care of you… ” Your words dizzied him, lulling him to a sweet song, until all of him was reduced to you. His hands slipped past your waist under your guidance, you ignited his crave to touch you bare, to kiss you on the mouth you taste you just once.. “You understand what I'm saying, Rinnie?” he nodded like a lost puppy completely taken by you.
“They don't love you like I do” You say, fidgeting with the wool. “You’ll stay with me Rinnie? Won’t you?” It was crazy how much effect you had on him, as you slowly unzipped the long strained pants, leading him by the couch as you straddled in his lap. Your sensitive skin settling itself in his hardness. Arching your back, as you felt him poking harder, growing into a rock under you. Rin couldn't fight you, not when you sat on him like a dream, dress dishevelled, soiling his pants from the stickiness of your thighs as you dripped. Your breasts spilled from the loose dress. He didn't spend another second, pulling it down as he latched hungrily on your skin. Rin was never the type to savour a taste, just the utter fascination of swallowing you as a whole ran through his mind. You didn't hold back, and he, hell bent on draining you of your moans and oxygen. You bite your lip when he squeezed your supple breasts. Putting your nipples between his teeth, playing in his mouth. The pain had you teared and overwhelmed you but the pleasure of his obsession overpowered. You were softer than a feather, and so god damn fragile, how could he ever dream of anybody else. His tongue swirled around, teasing you painfully. Rin, didn't realise his strength as he pulled your hair, bending you to his pleasure, nothing but flesh for him to eat. He sucked harder, each time you whined, and his canines dig in deeper. He was beyond gone. Painting you in a shell of bruises, as you ran fingers in his hair. Nothing was more rewarding to see him at his worst, turned into an animal for you, for you alone. The adrenaline rushed into your brain, as you bled a little from his harsh bites, his teal eyes, cold in lust and hatred. You came a little undone just from bare sight. “Cumming just like that, Neesan?” He mocked but it only made you wince, as you licked the corner of your mouth. You pushed his hair back, watching his tongue hanging low, licking his ear, “You need me… don't you?” The tone, the words, your confidence unshakingraged him, his eyes darkened hating to admit the truth. “Then have me…” It snapped, this wasn't about Sae, it was just this urge to be seen and loved by you. Like you were right now. It was twisted, but you were so convincing, feeding yourself to him.Before you even finished, Rin pushed you over the couch, you giggled at his restlessness taking off his sweater, cracking his neck. YOur fingers traced his rock abdomen, pleased as your small frame glistened in his spit. Before you knew he was unbuckling his pants, eager and driven. You were going to keep him with you forever.
© saexy — do not plagiarize, repost, use or translate my works on any platform.
#rin itoshi#rin x reader#cw yandere#cw cheating#cw dark content#rin itoshi x reader#rin smut#bllk smut#blue lock x reader#blue lock smut#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin smut#cw pseudocest#rinbin#bllk x reader#bllk x you#rin x you#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi x y/n#itoshi rin x y/n#itoshi rin x you#blue lock#bllk#one shot#bllk rin#blue lock rin
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BACK TO YOU ⋆ 전정국

ıllı . . . . . TWIRL ME TWICE — i'll treat you like a holiday and don't say you're over me baby, it's too late ⨾༊
brief, you always seem to go back to him, what about now? starring, drummer!jk x rich f!reader tags/warnings, smut. mdni. dry humping, dirty talk, cursing, oral (m) receiving, slight degradation(?) not pronounced, oc is an entitled rich girl, and jungkook falls for her antics basically, but don't get it wrong— he craves it. usage of drums during intimate moments (he's a drummer and he's jungkook so cut me some slack HAHHA) nicknames, pov shifts (clearly mentioned), emotional push and pull, kind of slow burn, characters are messy in their own ways but everything ties together— if something is unclear, send me an ask/comment !, angst (sorry babies). word count, 6.7k love diaries music rec, "if you lie down with me" — lana del ray, "heartbreak warfare" — john mayer, the party & the after party — the weeknd note, this started as an idea from js a simple thought of mine, can't spoil rn cuz what's the fun in that,, loved writing this because i accidentally js spewed all my need for a slow burn BUT not so slow (iykyk) in here. i edited this so many times its not even funny how i hyperfixated. did i mention how obsessed i am with drummer!jk? yeah that's it.
────୨ৎ────
“1,2,3.. stop!” the man, in his mid-twenties and ginger hair, which is the only color he stuck to for about 4 months straight now, practically yells into his mic.
“Jungkook you actually have to lock in, mate. This is not doing you any good, y’know.”
“You can clearly see I’m fucking trying, Jimin. I told you I needed to step out like right now, we’ve been at this for hours.”
Jeon Jungkook. Lead drummer, easily a handsome lad who could be mistaken for a very successful celebrity. He’s got that aura, the charm to waddle into the hearts of numerous girls and guys alike, just like he does at those tiny desk concerts— the original miniature set-ups with a lot of sweaty bodies and headbanging.
The raw stuff. Pure music. Flatlining passion.
“ ‘kay just go take a drag or something, but remember, return back by 7. Or I’m actually going to go hunt for someone else with no hard feelings.” Jimin passes on a complacent grin to which Jungkook rolls his eyes, he knows the latter cannot evade the decade long friendship they shared, nonetheless.
Jungkook walks over to the wooden door of the cramped studio where the duo was practicing, and since this very day consisted of rumbled musings and adjusting tones of the new release because the other members of “Seom” haven’t shown up and Jimin could only get hold of his dear brother to pour sweat into the new album along with him.
“Seom”— island in Korean, grounded the boys to their Southern roots, and tied them to the strings of reverberating music, just like how water expands and ripples around an island. It was mostly Jimin’s idea, to which Jungkook agreed immediately as he wanted their essence to be a part of this whole game.
Ping.
Classic notification beep. The message is far from the “class”, however.
[shortcake] 5.57pm fuck you.
Oh he wishes. Start of the day so hellish all he wanted to do was be balls deep inside you.
He shifts, leaning against the tattered door frame, locking his phone, shutting out the cascade of profanities filling up in your chat. The blob of silence that followed seemed to dissolve into thin air as a puff of smoke hindered his obscure view of people bustling about through the narrow alley.
Utter contrast to where he met you for the first time.
Back to : 6 months ago.
Jungkook wisely controlled the awe-filled sounds that threatened to leave his mouth, while Jimin and Hyunjin on the other hand, straight up wow-ed at the dazzle of golden chandeliers, polite service of umpteen number of waiters and waitresses catering to every other person, cold air that refreshed the scorching heat outside this magnificent yacht as soon as their lot entered the foyer.
“We’re looking for Conference Room 3” Jungkook referred to his emails before making a request at the reception, tapping his fingers on the crafted marble desk and adjusting the instruments on his shoulders.
In the meantime he luckily notices Hyunjin slide to the left, initiating loose talk with the other receptionist, thus pulling him by the collar to the latter’s unpleasant surprise.
“I was just shootin a shot, okay?” His lack of understanding was not the mood, especially for today.
They must remain composed and professional until the band’s first official performance for a crowd with more than a 100 people came to a successful end.
There was barely time for aimless flirting and fun. This was the foremost opportunity to grab a place and set the stone for Seom.
Hundred, however, is more than a few for a birthday party. But what more could be expected from a full-fledged family of chaebols.
“We don’t have much time, but Kook, you need to brush up a few beats before the stage. I’ll go ahead with Hyun to get the set done by then.” Jimin unpacked his guitar set and signaled Hyunjin to follow him outside to the stage area.
Finally done setting up the drums and arranging the kit, Jungkook tests it for a few beats, before flipping through the music book for a brief second to make final touches.
Click.
The door unlocks and closes, assuming it’s Jimin and Hyunjin, he continues to maneuver the stick through the booming plates of the drum.
“Y’all back already? They set up the stage for us too or did something fancy?” He passes a casual joke, unbeknownst of the fact that you were on the receiving end.
“That was quite a faulty pun, Jungkook Jeon?”
You read off of the rear of his chair that had his name on it for identification.
Perched on a personalized chair paired with such a comment rolling out so smartly didn’t sound as cute to you.
His head whipped and almost cracked, turning around at the words that flowed so elegantly, as opposed to what he was expecting.
Hands folded against your chest, slightly bunching up the fabric of the baby pink satin body-con hugging your well-built figure, doing a bad job at leaving much to one’s imagination, especially with the thin straps as sleeves.
Composed. Professional. He reminded himself.
Having seen you during the meeting where Seom was selected to set sail and perform at your birthday bash, he deemed you as a handful when you chanted numerous details into your dad’s ears and when you disagreed with most of the proposals they had for the final track list. As mentioned, fancy was the alternate last name for the Choi family.
He could deal a handful.
Or so he thought.
The damn look in your eyes. It propelled him forward, leaving the wooden seat behind, walking towards you ever so slowly but steadily.
“Careful, pink princess. Your dress boutta get messed up, don’t want those personal butlers to curse at you.”
The corners of your lips twitch ever so testingly. As if a single smile could give it all away.
“Were you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’? Thought we finalized the track list accordingly.”
You briefly look around the dingy room with dim lights and concrete walls, unpainted— fit to be a green room, he watches you closely.
Fairly enough, it was an embarrassing accident you wouldn’t admit. The yacht was genuinely too sophisticated and you lost your way to the ladies’ room.
Coincidentally, you hear your favourite song being played live on the drums from a nearby room titled “Staff Only.” No one could stop you from entering anywhere around on the yacht your dad booked for the big day. 21st birthday bash. And you knew you had everyone wrapped around a pinky.
With him, though? You don’t know.
Don’t know why a look at his face, seconds ago screamed “Not today.”
His smirk yelling at your senses to keep your power to yourself.
And his unfiltered comment at the beginning? Perfect starter.
You, nonetheless, took pride in your ability to bring what you craved for, at your fucking feet. Only, this one would take a lot more solo effort.
Consider it done because— goddamn was he a man. Sleeveless tank-top hugging his miniature waist ever so tightly, projecting whatever toned muscle that hid beneath, tattoos twirling around his left arm.
“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares pretty strawberry cake with her friends.”
He leans on the backrest of the chair, with his name printed across a piece of white paper, tainting your eyes with dripping taunt.
“Can’t wait to hear it.” You spit, but surely you wanted to explore their band and music.
“Would you give me some cake too, huh?” He slips the mockery in every fucking word with practiced ease, just like how he handles those drums.
“That doesn’t explain you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’.” You clawed at the previous question, ignoring the sly ask, genuinely curious as to why he chose that particular song minutes before an actual performance.
“Why, favorite?” He muses, flipping the book to a certain page yet again, positioning himself in front of the instrument.
“None of your business. Can you play it again?” Latter part of the sentence ever so feebly and hesitantly left your mouth as if it was tightly wound against your vocal chords, barely finding strength to be pushed out as a request.
A wish. One that you don’t know— for the first time— would be granted. Having everything served on a platter from Day 1, this is a new deal for you. The doubt, the anticipation felt confusing to say the least.
Seeing him steer through the papers and almost giving in to what you said, it seemed like a win.
Until it wasn’t.
“Afraid not, it’s my cue to be back on stage. That was my warmup song and I’m done.”
He sits forward, actions biting back on his words, as he looks least interested in hurrying to “be back on stage.”
“You’re literally performing for my party. It’s my crowd out there and they’d be forgiving if a drummer’s late.” Diving head first into this pointless banter was never on your agenda for today.
“Feeling entitled much?” He seemed calm, fidgeting around to pack up necessities.
“Says the one who’s owning that little wooden chair with his name on it like a throne.”
You were done. All restraints broke, a spiteful remark was nothing. None. Nada.
To your utter disbelief, it actually did nothing to him.
Jungkook finally got up from the damned chair, moving towards you and painfully looking into your eyes before gracing your ears with his raspy, raspy voice.
“Too bad, I do own my name. My own name. It’s my only throne.”
You weren’t stupid to miss the disdain laced stress on that particular word. Like he was throwing daggers at you.
Tongue poking behind the smooth walls of your cheek, you watch him fucking leave.
His resistance to you was instantly delicious.
Were you crazy for wanting him to be completely into you? Forget the back and forth and fall face first into the waters from a height to test your limits, when all you loved and have ever experienced was a cozy, elevating and classy cold plunge.
___
“Yeah, wine’ll do for today. You don’t wanna get too drunk.”
You nudge at Jessi, best friend, ride or die, whatever. Having known her since private kindergarten —the ones where a couple of selected children get tutored alone unlike the actual ones— she’s been a tad bit crazy, especially with alcohol and parties, as you grew up together.
“Why, you planning to get wasted and use me as your chauffeur because you can’t get your dad’s car sent?” She deadpanned, adjusting the MiuMiu purse that clung around perfectly on her honey skin.
“Spot on.” You squint your eyes at her, ridiculing, as you walk towards the venue.
“Look at herr!” Taehyung hoots in glee as you enter through the grand doors, starting a poor rendition of “It’s your birthday” as he pulls you by the hand, into the chaos.
Taehyung was the unavoidable guest at any party. He brings life with him, even if it mostly makes you question the invite.
“Guess what flavour of cake i got for your special dayy-“
Taehyung’s words blurred into the horizon as you were consumed by certain thoughts.
Kim Taehyung was no one distinct, just another man from your dad’s friends’ family who owned a bunch of inherited businesses like most of the people present in the party today.
Except the ones on stage.
The one, among them.
His name never left your mind, unusually so, because you don’t hold on.
Don’t build connections, never chain the beads of relationships with bare hands.
It always came with something.
But him?
A puzzling, faint secret.
Jeon Jungkook.
“Stop avoiding me just because I ordered strawberry shortcake, I wanted to give the new bakery a try too, now c’mon and clink clink bitch.” Tae was already tipsy and it was-
What did he just say?
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Kim fucking Taehyung. You literally took freedom for granted.” You shoot a sharp look at his red face, snapping back from the trance, but he just pouted in response.
“My bad I let you buy the damn cake, asshole.” You watch him pay no heed to you, going back to being an utmost social butterfly.
Everyone applause.
Birthdays were not supposed to be this humiliating.
“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares strawberry cake with her friends.”
You recall Jungkook’s words and everything and beyond you want right now would be the ability to sink into the fucking ground.
Courtesy : Kim Taehyung because he literally made way for Jungkook’s assumptions to come to life.
He didn’t have to be so lively, y’know.
“I need another cake there, in 5 minutes.” You whisper to Jessi, but she didn’t seem to notice, eyes glued to the train of texts being exchanged with her boyfriend.
___
21 wasn’t supposed to be as humbling.
The 20 somethings were to be full of cruises through picturesque islands and a possible girls’ trip if Jessi was into it. She’d be, but you wanted it to be a bit more relentless and intriguing.
You wanted to explore.
Maybe your wish was granted— partly— earlier than you’d please.
“Seom” as you learnt from their introduction was nothing less than a fucking wave. One to explore. To indulge in, especially the lead drummer.
Even if you’d hesitate to admit, seeing Jungkook go all out on the drums, setting a bar so high and then hitting the lows before springing back up with just the taps of two sticks and a determined mind, he looked insane.
Sweat clinged onto his forehead, wispy stray hair falling to the sides and god the tank top.
One that didn’t go unnoticed by you during the backstage shenanigans.
The music ends with thunderous applause from the audience, and you see Jungkook reach for the mic from Jimin, clearing his throat into it before speaking.
“We really enjoyed performing here today, but there’s a special ending note I’d like to play.” He signals for the others to exit the stage, claiming it alone with undeniable presence, blasting a beat into the speakers with those damn skilled fingers.
He was playing the background score of “Heartbreak Warfare.”
You weren’t exactly subtle with the reactions, eyes widening as the tune grew familiar.
“He’s so fucking good at this,” Taehyung slurred from behind. “But missing only one thing.”
“— a grammy nomination.” The man looked so proud of his witticism.
His luck, you were too engrossed in how Jungkook completed the rendition with absolute perfection, doing justice to every single nuance of your favorite song.
“Do we have any of the strawberry cake left?” Your unhinged doubt in the middle of the performance— consuming the premise, and people— makes Jessi chuckle from behind.
“Weren’t you the one who made me go place an order for another one? We literally cut the chocolate cake I had to run last minute for, and this boy is damn upset.” She points at Tae, who was mindlessly chugging another shot of his alcohol, looking farthest from upset.
“___, we’re going to the dance floor now, c’mon” Taehyung started testing the material of your dress between his sloppy fingers, trying to grab your attention like a carefree kid.
“Can you ask them to send a piece over to Seom’s green room? Meet me at the dance floor after.” Running a hand through well-set hair, you look back again— eyes catching sight of his unrelenting drive towards music that almost topples you over on those fucking louboutins— before catching up with Taehyung’s jittery steps towards the party room next door.
Jessi was cent percent sure you were on to something.
Because, one piece of cake for 3— math wasn’t tallying up right.
And you taking personal interest to have it delivered?
Weird.
__
his pov.
The trio stands around the now droopy cold, untouched piece of sweet goodness dressed in baby pink icing, as if it was about to be convicted in court.
“Whoever sent it in, they could’ve packed three more.” Jimin sulks, as if more pieces somehow equals to finding whoever this anonymous confectioner is.
“But we’re only 3 people and one’s here already, dumbass.” Hyunjin analyses the situation as though satisfying their sweet tooth is the only problem here.
“An extra piece wouldn’t hurt you right?”
The trial about a damn piece of strawberry shortcake ceased abruptly, hanging over the edge through Jimin’s harmless remark.
However, someone in the room seems to have attained enlightenment— precisely not so— because he was praying, hoping to whatever higher power that it wouldn’t be what he thought it was.
The conclusion was inevitable.
“I’ll be back.” Lead drummer, guides his own way to the adjacent ballroom.
It wasn’t some sort of cinematic appearance— he didn’t enter in as the prince who aimed to claim his princess.
He was a walking mess. Like a literal strained bunch of bafflement.
At your fucking audacity.
Like you were mocking his service. His team’s hard work.
There was no way to sugarcoat it.
You were being an asshole.
And just like a rifle zeroes in on its target, Jungkook’s gaze pinpoints yours among the sea of people. He moves further, a mild hurry outlining his steps through a bunch of sweaty bodies mixed with the expensive scent, lingering on, making it easier to distinguish the crowd as ones from high-end families.
He remains aware of the surroundings— the lap of luxury sprawled out and highlighted each speck of dust around— even in the air.
Nevertheless, that was gotten rid of.
His presence of mind packs a suitcase and makes a bolt out of its abode, as soon as your eyes meet his.
As if an urgent sense of victory ziplined through, he watches you slowly bite your lip, trying to hide a smile.
Not the one that looked like a perfect crescent moon, one that radiates joy, though. Yours was synonymous to that of a fucking Cheshire Cat on a mission.
“Knew you’d come.” Your red glossy lips mouth, and he caught it amongst all.
Jungkook was furious, but he was dissolving.
It was as if an imaginary string connected the both of your bodies, the pull growing stronger by the minute.
Slow and steady, wins the race.
But his libido takes over, avoiding all the speed bumps.
And then he realized. As if it wasn’t so obvious.
He wanted you.
However, you didn’t have to know that.
___
If it was the Jungkook 30 minutes ago —who fired up from backstage to ballroom in less than 2 strides to catch hold of the fucking menace of a woman for trying to deride his performance— he would’ve laughed at the face of anyone who tried to tell him, that he was holding that very woman by the waist in the middle of a dance.
Breath.
“Your heels are about to punch a hole in my feet.” He shifts you forward so swiftly with one hand on your waist, legs finally coming alive again after 2 minutes of torturous dancing.
“Tryna hold you together, if you fall apart. I can distinguish between a good dancer and a bad one, y’know.”
“I’m gonna leave if you keep running that mouth of yours.” He whisper-yells into your ears, above the 165 bpm party music.
His jaw twitches at the reason he’s still anchored in the same spot.
Another request. One that took flight way easier than the previous one. Your pretty mouth asked for help.
“Don’t wanna look alone in my own party. Dance?” You had asked, peeking at his anger infused red eyes 30 minutes ago, through your angel-like lashes, which had him expressing distaste, but quickly securing him behind you.
Ass pressed up against his crotch, he knew you were testing his boundaries. He knew you were careful, measured, as your hands rhythmically made its way around his neck, adhering to the beat.
His hands still around the small of your back— unsure if it was to steady you or himself.
Minx.
His hands find solace in your swaying hips, pushing you forward, trying to maintain distance.
Because this was supposed to be a nice gesture. An act of goodwill so a girl won’t feel alone on her birthday.
Why the fuck was he sporting a semi?
“You’re enjoying this too much aren’t you, shortcake?”
This time, he didn’t have to push you away.
You sprang off, akin to how the like-poles of magnets repel.
“The fuck did you just call me?” You had to yell, some of the drunk dancers sending weird glances.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? You pulled that act to-”
“Shut the fuck up.” You whisper, moving closer to his ears, dragging him out, swerving through to the common restroom.
____
your pov.
“What’s all this, __?” The sudden silence echoes his deep voice throughout the entire place, making you dizzy at its amplification as opposed to the hushed noises coming from outside.
“Huh?” You pant a little, looking up at him yet again with those eyes.
He hoists you up, cold marble coming in contact with your supple, exposed thighs making you wince in the faintest voice.
“What do you think you’re doing, ___?”
His face is dangerously close. Breaths colliding.
“You played it for me, Jungkook.”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re kidding me, shortcake.”
He jerks back, hands placed on the table, caging you in them but it wasn’t enough.
Jungkook’s head falls next to your shoulder, barely touching as his eyes remain closed throughout.
“There’s nothing I’m joking about here, Jungkook.”
He slightly looks up, still hesitant to catch your eyes.
“I think the fuck yes. You’ve been diminishing my presence the entire night, and that whole cake situation felt embarrassing, __. In front of my fucking bandmates, I felt like nothing.”
His head falls again, as if some inner beast caught his breath, sighing.
“I don’t see a reason for that.” You shrug, in genuine confusion this time.
“Yeah you wouldn’t. Because I made the mistake of agreeing to perform here, when Jimin and Hyunjin clearly had no reason to.”
“Is it ‘cause you owe my dad?” A sly smirk creeps up into your lips, as Jungkook finds it in himself again to look at you.
“Do I have a fucking choice?”
“You should’ve thought before wandering into our territory, asking for help.” You swing your legs, still on top of the restroom table like you’re on some play-date, enjoying ice cream on a sunny Saturday.
“I needed it for survival. Seom was falling apart, and we really required that sum of money. And oh, you’re talking about Mr. Choi, the ever so generous man, huh? Your dad has put me through it even if I was a minute late to pay him back each month.”
“I can help.”
You offer. Simple, cut through. It was always the simplest of suggestions that seemed like the end of the world.
“You? You’re holding on by a thread to your family, but except your thread— it’s made of money. Mine isn’t.”
“Bingo.”
Oh.
“Be with me for a month and I’ll help you relieve some stress. Know you need it. In return,”
You pause, meandering your vision to his, watching his expressions twist, lightly.
“I’ll tell dad about your situation.” This was your cue to pull him closer by the ends of his tank top.
“Best believe, you think I’d be on my knees, accepting your offer right now” He tears himself apart, now fully on two feet, the distance between your bodies increasing.
"Remember the name you own that you boasted about, back there? Don't forget about the price you have to pay my dad, to uphold it." Laid-back, pausing for a moment, you could feel the gears turning in his head, back facing your frame now.
“There’s only one exit, to every entrance.” You say, as he was headed for the door, coming down from the table, you had your hands folded, yet again.
Always the same.
The sound of his resolve snapping, was another alarming echo, as two worlds collided.
It was the answer to your proposal.
His lips taste like unadulterated need. Those roamed around yours, in a hurry, like a telltale of passion. He occasionally presses your foreheads together, taking as much as he wants before dipping in again.
There you knew.
This was about to turn into a constant cycle. An endless war against sanity.
You, him— one heated glance, two bodies meeting to fight it.
____
Present.
his pov.
It feels quite deranged to think about.
Approximately a year ago when Seom was in the trenches, Jungkook, unbeknownst to his bandmates, found himself in front of Choi Enterprises. Even though the sum he got from your dad was useful in a way, it was hell to pay off. He handled it all alone, and wanted it to be a secret deal.
He still remembers that day, where you sat in front of him, flaunting the information like it bothers you.
He still remembers the way you thanked him.
Two simple, simple words. The ones that were taught as basic manners in school, ones which are usually ignored.
Two words he never saw coming his way, even with years of hard work and struggle, living in small dorms and surviving off of convenience store food for a dream.
No one ever appreciated him, except the person who he least thought would.
“Thank you.”
It held the fucking weight of the world when you elicited it from your posh voice.
It took him here. Landed into this mutual succour, drove him into the heights of insanity, shared nights and whatever remnants of passion he had.
It's been six months and a few.
Yet here he is, still tangled up in need for you.
You asked him for a month, but that was just a feeble fabric to mask how you both just wanted to have a good fuck after everything going on in your lives, seeking whatever you missed.
However, Seom was on its success grind. After the storm of hardships, you did keep your promise. Continuous shows, a few sponsorships.
There were clear boundaries in this mad game of push and pull.
It always remained a casual fuck, right after his gigs or sometimes in the closed walls of your luxurious penthouse that he thought he’d never see.
Because, you were mostly travelling, going on trips with god knows who.
He finds himself concerned about your company to these getaways, more than you’d given him the right for.
He opens up his messaging app again, briefly glancing at the time before opening your chats.
Finally.
Three dots appear, leave for a minute— not to be mistaken— as it comes back again with a bang, bringing in hot trails of new messages.
It was as if you were waiting for him to see your previous string of profanities.
[shortcake] 6:10 pm Asshole, where the fuck are you? [shortcake] 6:10 pm It’s been a week, Jungkook. Send me your location or you know I have my ways.
[jungkook] 6:11 pm I’m at the studio. Come to my room, behind. You know it.
He wondered why you didn’t bother checking in for a week, and clearly popped out of nowhere.
It’s just a casual hook-up with a rich girl who helps, sometimes. Who’s a menace, mostly.
He reminds himself, yet again.
Reality is so fucked up.
___
your pov.
You barge into the small practice room, a sense of knowing wrapping around you, ‘cause you’ve fucked almost everywhere at this point. It’s filthy, but it somehow keeps you together.
There was not a living soul here.
Huh.
“Shortcake?”
Honey coated voice— the one you hadn't heard for almost a week— engulfs you, heating you up like molten lava.
You simply walk over, throwing your bag on his couch, now acting as if the entire place’s yours, before piercing on the stool behind the drums.
“Where were you?” He casually sets up the aircon, closing the door as if he knew what’d happen any moment from now.
“Not your business. But guess.” You extend your hands, flaunting a set of rings made of sea-shells.
“Maldives? You went on tour again?” He asks, placing your tender fingers on his, examining the rings before abruptly taking them off.
“The fuck are you doing?!” You round up, trying to get hold of one of your favorite pieces.
“This’d look good in our studio. We’re sea themed, and I’m starting to think you got these for me.”
“You fucking wish, Jeon. Give. them. back.” You try to reach for his hands behind his back, slightly urging the both of you to the walls behind, but he wouldn't budge.
And then he does.
He turns around, crashing his lips on yours in a frantic kiss, pushing you against the walls, hands still holding your rings behind his back. Clutching together.
Your hands free run to his face, bringing him impossibly closer.
Somehow, his lips roaming around yours, pacing back and forth between consuming your edged gasps, felt like the end of something.
You can’t pinpoint what, though.
Standing tall, head straight to catch a breath, he throws your damned rings off.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Especially when you have him, diving down again to catch your lips in his, running tongue through its seams, ever so furiously.
“Fuck, you’re even better after each trip, __.”
The contempt tastes bitter on your freshly patched up lips.
You knew he didn't mean that.
Last week, before Maldives, you parted ways after a fiery argument about your 'big girl adventures' like he called them.
All it took was you to post a picture with your dad's friend's son, Minho.
He’s about to kiss you again, when those freshly done nails of yours press lightly against his chest, halting the actions.
“Go sit there for me, Jungkook.” You muse into his ears, pointing at the stool behind his instrument.
“Why do you have such a thing for those drums? Hm, shortcake?" His demeanor seemed out of track, eyes blazing into yours.
He’s always been vocal about what he wanted, the clear boundaries and whatnot. But today was in your hands.
You pull him forward, pushing his chest, forcefully getting him to sit on that little chair.
And the next thing you do, takes his breath away. Snatches it, visibly.
You sit on his lap, legs wrapping ‘round his torso— his hands instinctively moving to your hips, holding you in place.
“Your hair has grown so much, kook.” You scramble about, untying your own silky locks that cascade down, bringing the piece of hair tie to his wavy ones that fell ever so prettily over his forehead, arching your chest into his face in the process of crafting a man bun.
You could figure out his fucked up state under you, but the coherence lasts no longer than a second as his mouth envelopes your hardened nipples, from over your flimsy skims top, the friction sending a zap of electricity through you.
“Wearing nothing underneath, you’re always so planned, huh?”
He goes back, trailing slight kisses around your smooth, buttered up neck, grazing the one spot he knew would send you in spirals, as soon as you finish tying his hair up.
“Uh-huh, wanna see you.” You bring him up, his forehead displayed, skin shining under the lights that illuminate the room.
“Hmm, proud of myself.” You grin, as he pushes you forward, hastily, that makes you helplessly choke out a moan.
Because, he’s already hard, and amidst all of this, you’d almost forgotten the purpose of this visit.
“Show me more things that you’d be proud of, shortcake.”
He guides you again, folds delicately parting at the feeling of his hard on, hidden behind the slacks.
Stupid pants.
“Off. I need these off.” He lets you pull down the sweats, catching you off guard after, by stopping you with a grip on the wrists.
“Don’t have much time. Just— fuck— just sit on me, okay?”
Oh.
You inch forth, capturing the supple skin of his neck, sucking on it gently, and you swear he elicits a deep guttural sound that you’re so used to, but he pulls you back by the forearm, halting your actions.
“What is it now?” You roll your eyes, clearly tired of the way he stops you at every fucking step.
“Don’t leave marks, __. I’m serious.” His eyes mirror red-hot warning, which provoked your otherwise vague intentions of actually giving him a hickey.
But all you do is move on his growing hard-on, desperately, because,
Fuck trying to work him up when you can clearly see him snaking into your arms, your actions.
His hands fly to your hips, holding them against his own yet again as you set a rhythm with this entire thing, whatever the fuck it was— it was sure getting him riled up beneath you.
“Fuck, yes- sshit- just like that, shortcake.” He groans into your ears, hands frantically tugging down the white skims top to finally reveal your bosoms. He presses a light kiss to the very ends of your nipples that pebbles under the cold air of the room, making you hiss into his ears at the sensation, head falling back as your torso never fails to ride into his.
You could see how close he was, with just a look at his outline pressing ever so deliciously into the tight Calvin Klein's you were sitting on— claiming as yours with every stroke of friction felt in between your thighs.
“Just fucking want my- goddamn- performance to get over so that I can fuck you backstage, angel.”
Your stomach tightens at the idea, strings of what could be his name, and a few profanities slipping out of your mouth.
“You want someone to catch us, don’t you?” His doe eyes look up at your figure on his, and you just dip down in response, sucking on his neck again, purposefully leaving a dark, purple mark on it.
Maybe, you wanna see him mad.
“Fuck, __. You can never stop being a brat and listen to me for once.” You were achingly close to snapping that knot coiling in the pit of your stomach, the traction from the rough fabric of his boxers giving you life, just about to send you over the peak.
But he just— as cruelly yanks you off his lap.
“Down. On your knees now.” He gets up, pulling his tee away from his body with just one hand.
This shouldn’t be turning you on.
But it was, so you do.
Drop down on your knees, behind the fucking drums, your frame hidden behind.
The thought of someone barging in at the sight of Jungkook and you behind, seemed so enticing to you, but it vanishes as soon as it takes form, when the man right in front of you, grabs your open hair tightly in a pony-tail, before you could even pull them boxers down and take him in your grip.
“You’re not gonna utter a word, and do as I say.”
You look at him through lidded eyes, too far gone to even retort now.
“Use your mouth, __.” He spills out your full name, and that means it's done. Your part is over.
“Yes.” You state simply, his face contorting in amusement, before pulling his boxers down just enough for his fully hard cock to come up.
However, he was wrong, in thinking he had the full advantage of being the upper hand.
“What happened to having no time, baby?” You huff, too fast to let him catch the tone, before taking his tip in your glossy mouth, and all that came out from him in response was a lucid groan.
You knew he wanted to curse at you, sputter pure despise at your audacity to ignore his words.
Best part is, you also knew what your mouth did to him.
Something that sounded like a hushed out moan rumbled out of him, as he pulled your hair, guiding you well.
“Fuck, you love taking me, don’t you? Filthy girl doing so well for me.” He seems to have entirely forgotten your words amidst the mirage of pleasure your mouth enveloped him in.
“Can you look at me, __?” He sputters, hands hovering over your glossy cheeks, hollowed out around his cock.
He lets go of your hair, brushing it to the side and tucking it behind your ears, the blazing pull that burnt your scalp deliciously all along, finally coming to rest.
His voice was gentle, the one you could feel everywhere, so you continued, without adhering to his wish.
Because, you were taken aback by the soft call.
Terrified.
What happened to the harsh monotony he put through minutes ago?
The sting on your scalp hasn't fully died out, yet.
How the hell did things transition so quickly?
Like he had a mid-sex awakening, purely due to some blood flow issues?
Hormones?
Focus, __. Your hands presses on the muscular flesh of his upper thigh, as movements grow confident around his cock, slightly stroking the base with your fingers now and then, teasing, the jerk of his hips against you so sudden, you mumble a hushed fuck that travels all the way up his breaking point.
“Yyes- ffuck- shortcake do you not hear me? Look up at me, __.” He forces your chin up, as your eyes follow his face, contorting in gleaming pleasure.
“You’re so f- pretty nghh-” Those sounds. Desperate and splintered.
“I’m c- god fuck, where do y’want me, shortcake nghh-” He makes the prettiest sounds, sure, but you were still dazed.
“Wherever.” Your blunt response caught him off-guard, as he slowly pulled out, his own hands taking over, desperately and rushed.
“I’m- fu- shortcake, you’re gonna be the end- ssshit- of me” He snaps, like its been forever, cumming so fucking hard, as it leaks onto your chin that he’s still got a hold of.
At one point, he’s gasping, panting, riding his high like it’s the last time, stamina completely thrown off.
But the next minute, his hands are on your forearms, nudging you up, manhandling, imposing, lifting you up by the waist with the ease of his tatted arms, onto his drums.
Your ass presses far too much onto the rim of the drum pad, its nuances nudging your soft flesh as he clings his body onto yours.
“What the fuck was the attitude you gave me, __?” He rasps, bold and unrelenting into your face.
“I’m leaving today.” You say in a breath, wanting to close your eyes and hide from his questions that you knew would follow after.
“You were the one who texted me, called me and came in here. Now you’re leaving? Is it because of the trust fund baby you posted last day? Minho?” He speaks into the afterglow that glistened your face, the lights more brighter as the evening transitioned into the fall of night.
“I won’t come to your concert this week.” You just keep on spewing these sentences, knowing that he’d get mad, but it was inevitable.
He pushes away, the sudden loss of proximity and warmth almost propelling your body forward to chase it again, but you control.
“I’ll use your restroom, yeah?” You grab the bag and rings that lay forgotten.
His lack of response was definitely novel, but you don’t dwell.
Jungkook plops down on the couch, hands slowly untying the man bun that knotted his hair tightly, ruffling the now free curls, raking his palms slowly through them.
You come back, hands washed and freshened up, seeing him sprawled out on the couch.
Those lingering moments and conversations weren't a part of the deal. As much as you wanted to explain— how you had to urgently leave for London and why you're missing his concert— the way his features softened during sex, while he had you on him, all over and consuming.
That was new.
Bemusing.
You wanted to say anything, really.
But what was there to tell him, that doesn't sound like a goodbye now?
So, you quietly gather your things— the only things filling up the space being the hum of the aircon and the sofa creaking with his legs shaking in somewhat an anxious tone— and leave the studio.
────୨ৎ────
note, endingment and all who am i lmao BUT
part two?
the post oc made with minho here
────୨ৎ────
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook jeon#bts army#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts incorrect quotes#bts jungkook#fan fiction#jungkook fanfic#bts ffs#bts ff recs#jungkook ff#jungkook fluff#jungkook x oc#gguk's ficbook#slow burn#fic: back to you#jungkook oneshot#bts x fem!reader#rich girl#band au#bts fanfction#bts jeon jungkook#jeongguk smut#bts smut
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Sparks Fly
pairing: lando x ex!reader, oscar x reader
summary: doesn’t she know that there is nothing you do better than revenge?
a/n: thank you sm for the request, i’m so sorry it took longer than normal
masterlist part one requests open
——————————
Lando’s eyes stayed trained on yours throughout the whole performance. Your knowing smirk makes his stomach sink. Somewhere deep inside you are satisfied watching Lando squirm in his seat, words cutting through him like a hot knife.
“I didn’t know she wrote that! I love that song,” his girlfriend gushes. Lando nods wordlessly, unsure of what to say. “You should introduce me to her,” she stands up, ready to drag Lando backstage as the house lights brighten.
“I’m not sure about that,” Lando protests but gets dragged anyway to where you are talking with the venue manager. He’s a little confused at why his girlfriend seems to suddenly love you.
“Hi, I’m Camillia, Lando’s girlfriend,” she introduces herself before Lando can speak, interrupting your conversation.
“One moment,” your saccharine voice and sarcastic smile greets them as you turn back to finish your conversation, leaving both of them standing awkwardly. You are unsure where this new confidence is coming from.
“Great, thanks for your patience,” you turn to them. Lando can’t believe his eyes, you aren’t the same girl he remembers but you always were able to put up a strong front.
“Y/n,” his voice comes out begging but your sharp eyes stop him.
“Lando,” you reply.
“Anyway,” his girlfriend claps her hands happily, grabbing your attention. “My birthday is coming up soon, I want you to perform at the party,” she says making you scoff.
“I’m a songwriter, I don’t perform like that,” you reject the offer before you can consider it further.
“I’m an actress, there are some producers who will be there and they are looking for music in upcoming productions. It could be a good opportunity, not to mention a very very nice payment,” you hate that the words make you stop, your narrowed eyes widening for a second.
“Are you trying to bribe me?” you ask, slightly taken aback.
“Is it working?” she asks, meeting the challenge your eyes.
“This is my agents details. If I think it’s doable, maybe we will have a deal,” you hand a business card to her. As you turn away, a familiar hand catches your arm.
“Can we talk?” Lando asks, voice pleading for you to hear him out.
“Actually, why don’t you let me talk this time. I didn’t get to do that much last time,” you step towards your gear, starting to pack as Lando steps closer.
“I’m really sorry,” Lando apologizes but you choose to ignore it, lowering your voice so only he can hear.
“Sorry for cheating on me? I find that hard to believe. Congrats on moving on with her, I heard she’s great in bed,” you roll your eyes and scoff. Resisting the urge to slam your guitar case closed, you spin around to face him. “You know what, Lando? I am going to do this, and I hope you hate every minute of it,” you end the conversation, taking one last glance at his girlfriend who sports a frown of some sort.
“Y/n,” Lando says as you walk towards the exit, you give him the finger behind you and leave the building.
The birthday party also happens to double as a black-tie end-of-summer party on some super yacht in Monaco. You spend the summer writing new songs and furiously planning your revenge, professionally of course.
When the day arrives you look drop dead beautiful in your sleek black evening dress, not unprofessional but certainly making you stand out. It is one that begs to be taken off by someone at the end of the night, and you aren’t sure who that will be, but it’ll be a nice way to end the night. The birthday girl is wearing some vintage couture dress that screams for attention. A party planner directs you to the small stage you are performing at. You catch her roll her eyes at you while talking to friends, but you ignore it. Instead you focus on setting up and making sure your set list is perfect.
Oscar really didn’t want to attend Lando’s girlfriend’s party, but he couldn’t think of a good excuse in time. Tugging uncomfortably at his collar he boards the boat just before it leaves the dock.
“You made it!” Lando greets Oscar, clearly already a little drunk.
“Yeah,” Oscar tightly smiles, looking around the boat.
“Bar is open, I’ll see you around,” Lando says before being dragged off by his girlfriend who doesn’t care to say anything to Oscar. Oscar follows the noise of a guitar tuning and finds you preparing to start.
“I’m Y/n L/n, songwriter of many hits, and I’ll be playing some of my hits and unreleased songs tonight,” you smile into the mic, warm summer breeze gently blowing your hair. Oscar steps closer to the stage as you start to sing, being pushed by groups of people talking loudly. He’s close enough to touch and you hope he can’t read your mind. All you can think about is how you want to get to know this mystery man.
You meet his eyes and he smiles shyly at you, a light blush on his cheeks. Teasingly, you send him a wink before refocusing on the music. Oscar is enchanted by you, the way you can elicit emotions from the audience using your words and a guitar, so he stays near the stage to listen to you.
Oscar is the only driver here anyway, most of the paddock doesn’t seem to care for Lando’s current girlfriend. He heard the stories about what happened, but he never met you. You didn’t attend races anymore by the time Oscar joined F1, instead being the girl at home waiting for Lando to return. By the end you didn’t pay any attention to F1 either, you still assume Daniel is his teammate. Oscar never even saw a photo of Lando with the girl he cheated on, you.
“This will be the brief intermission,” you say after performing your most recent hit, carefully placing your guitar on its stand and turning off the mic.
“You must be thirsty,” Oscar hands you a water bottle.
“Thanks. Have you been enjoying the music?” you ask, gratefully sipping the water.
“You are incredible, I don’t know how you haven’t blown up,” Oscar compliments you, making you blush.
“No, no, I prefer being behind the pen. Thank you though,” you chuckle. “I should get back to the stage. Talk to you after?” you ask, trying to figure out how you know him.
A crowd a little larger than when you left the stage has gathered this time, including Lando who happens to be nearby.
“I’d like to start this with something new, a little Punk. I’ve titled it Better Than Revenge,” you flip your hair over your shoulder and out of your face. The aggressive start to your song capturing the attention of the crowd. You detail the start of your summer, the way Lando was stolen from you, and your feelings about it all. You see Lando talk to your mystery water-giver, trying to act unfazed by the song.
“She’s great, where did you find her?” Oscar asks, watching you jam.
“She’s um, an old friend,” Lando answers awkwardly.
“Is that so, how did you meet?” Oscar breaks his gaze, turning it suspiciously on Lando, not quite believing him. Oscar observes Lando fidget and avoidance of watching you.
“Fine, she was my ex,” Lando admits, looking at you as you slow it down with a new song. He finds you eyes looking at him as well, but not with the fury he expected. There is a sadness, disappointment even about how things happened.
“The one you,” Oscar trails off, listening to your words, silence falling between him and Lando as they listen.
“I fucked up,” Lando sighs, admitting it aloud. “She deserves to let her feelings out,” Lando watches you perform.
“You didn’t fight for her?” Oscar asks, not really knowing the full story.
“I hurt her in a cruel way that no amount of apologies can fix. Not to mention I broke up with her. Some cruel twist of fate isn’t letting us move on,” Lando explains, looking away. Oscar nods, not revealing what’s going on in his head. Lando walks away and Oscar stays, watching the final half of your performance.
Before Oscar can steal you again, someone who looks much more important pulls you into a conversation after your final song. Oscar doesn’t mean to listen in, but he is a curious person.
“I’ve been looking for someone to write songs for a soundtrack and I think you are my person. It’s a teen film -think Mean Girls- that has heartbreak and your songs, Better Than Revenge and that song right after it, um,” the producer struggles to thing of the song name.
“Last Kiss,” you offer the name, masking your emotions. It’s a raw song, one of the first ones you wrote after the breakup. You bared your soul. Those two songs represent your two immediate feelings post-Lando, the heartbreak and the anger.
“That’s it. Who is your agent? I want to send a contract and script as soon as possible,” Oscar distracts himself, not wanting you to notice him listening. He does such a good job that he doesn’t notice you slide up next to him, arm lightly brushing his.
“Hello again,” your soft smile makes him startle, but also blush. “I don’t think I ever got your name,” you gently nudge him with your elbow.
“Oscar,” his voice cracks slightly with nerves.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/n,” you know he knows your name from when your introduced yourself on stage, but this feels more intimate, more personal. “How do you know Lando,” you ask, genuinely curious why they were talking.
“I’m his teammate,” Oscar answers, a little shocked that you didn’t know, especially since you broke up at the start of the season and they have been teammates for two.
“Oh no, Daniel,” you frown, maybe you should reach out. Then again, who knows how long Oscar has been Lando’s teammate. Unsure of what to say next, you simply say “Thanks again for the water.”
“Maybe I could buy you a different drink sometime?” Oscar asks in a moment of boldness.
“I don’t know, I don’t want to be seen as the paddock whore,” you shift your weight.
“One drink and if it is too much then you can forget we’ve ever met,” Oscar replies making you reconsider him.
“You believe that much in yourself? Consider it a thank you for the drink then. A boat is coming to bring me back to shore in five minutes,” you wink, leaving him standing, watching you.
With your gear loaded onto the boat, Oscar races down the stairs to meet you on the boat, making it just in time.
“I didn’t think you’d make it,” your smirk makes him want to wipe it off your face with a kiss.
“I hate stuffy parties,” Oscar shrugs, his shy smile matching his awkward position. He doesn’t move closer, unsure of how to approach the situation. You are sitting on a bench with your leather notebook on your lap, open to a page at the back, and a pen in your head.
“I don’t bite, you know. Unless asked,” you add on. Your eyes sparkle in the moonlight as Oscar steps closer, a wave making him stumble onto the seat beside you. “Smooth,” you laugh, closing the journal and tucking it away into a bag.
“I meant to do that,” you don’t see his flushed cheeks, but the awkwardness seems to be slightly alleviated.
Oscar calls a car as you make sure your gear gets picked up by someone and taken to your hotel. At the bar you don’t miss how your bodies touch and you laugh like you are drunk.
“So, after one drink are you ready to get rid of me?” Oscar asks, his smile making your heart beat slightly faster. You both look a little out of place in the bar meant for someone in jeans and a t-shirt, but you both haven’t paid much attention to anything besides each other.
“I might need another to make that decision,” you smile, Oscar’s heartbeat meeting your own as he orders another round, then another, and another before he finds himself tangled in your hotel sheets.
As you stare at him in the darkness, trying to memorize everything about him. Moles, the way he smiles, his soft hair that feels wonderful tangled in your fingers, the way he leans down to kiss you with those soft lips for no real reason other than he’s wanted to since he first saw you, his calculating eyes that also hold a softness when he looks at you.
It seems to strike both of you in the moment that you don’t want this to be a one time thing or a casual thing. There’s something in the way that your hand fits perfectly in his, or the way Oscar never wanted to please a woman more than he wants to meet your every need and more, and the natural feeling of you underneath him.
Oscar doesn’t mean to fall asleep beside you, but he can’t fight it with your bodies pressed together and his exhaustion from the day. You slip out of bed when he’s in deep sleep, searching your bag for the worn leather journal and red glitter gel pen.
The top of the page where you write the song title is empty, your lyric lines that you wrote while waiting for Oscar just below them. The cap of your pen comes off with a satisfying pop as you write for an hour, not keeping track of time before the title comes to you. Dress. You bring in moments and feelings of the day but also creating a story between two fictional characters. Yawning, you slip back in bed before Oscar notices you gone. He pulls you close to him, his subconscious needing you.
You stir to soft kisses being placed on your shoulder and an arm tightening around you. You enjoy it for a moment before turning around to join your lips, Oscar’s touch setting you alight as the morning takes a passionate turn.
“Good morning to you too,” Oscar says breathlessly as he collapses at your side.
“Mm, good morning indeed,” you smile at the ceiling.
“When do you leave?” Oscar turns to his side, reaching out to brush a hair that has fallen over your face.
“This afternoon. I wasn’t expecting to stay here any longer,” you admit. “I have work in London tomorrow, can’t stay any later,” you fight a yawn and the urge to stay tangled in the sheets with Oscar.
“I understand. I’ll be passing through on my way to Woking, maybe I could take you to dinner sometime?” Oscar asks, wanting to make sure you know he isn’t only interested in having you in bed with him.
“That sounds nice,” you agree, stretching slightly. “In the meantime, I should shower, mind helping me get some hard to reach places?” Oscar practically chases you into the hotel bathroom. He offers to take you to the airport as well, but you turn it down, promising to let him know when you return to London.
As you wait for your flight, you send a text to Daniel, who teases you about your heavily belated message, but thanks you anyway and expresses sympathies for your break up. You also send a text to Oscar so he has your number.
It only takes a week for you and Oscar to make plans and meet up again, this time at a tucked away restaurant you love. Everything is going well so far, almost too good and by the time you get to the middle of your meal, you need to say what’s on your mind.
“I need to say this,” you pause your normal conversation and set your utensils down. “I need to be in either one hundred percent or not at all. I don’t want to risk the fallout unless I know both sides are committed,” you tell Oscar, searching his eyes for an answer.
“I agree, and I wouldn’t want to bring you into the paddock unless I was sure you are who I want to commit to. I would really like it if you were to be my girlfriend,” Oscar replies, voice even. Your eyes widen slightly and your brain short circuits slightly. “You don’t have to answer that now, we have the rest of the night,” his hand stretches across the table, gently grabbing yours and squeezing it. His smile tells you that he will wait for your answer and you can feel your heart flutter.
“Thank you, but I know my answer,” you don’t even need to say yes, Oscar knows. It feels so wrong that it feels right, dating your ex’s teammate, but you just know Oscar is different.
After dinner you decide to walk around the city, talking about whatever crosses your mind. Every time you remember that it isn’t a great idea to date your ex’s teammate, Oscar brushes your hands with his and you forget. Rain slowly begins to fall from the sky without warning so Oscar wraps is arm around you, pulling you close in an attempt to shield you.
“My apartment is a few blocks from here,” you notice the street signs and try not to sink into Oscar’s warmth more.
“Lead the way,” Oscar smiles, tightening his grip slightly around your shoulders as you make a mad dash in the direction of warmth. You pass a pub on your way and stop in your tracks.
“I love this song,” you blurt, the music amplified through the empty street, warm early-fall rain soaking your clothes. The slow song that has the whole bar singing alone brings a smile to your face as Oscar confidently takes your hand.
“Let’s dance then,” he smiles, eyes lighting up in the dim streets.
“Now? In the pouring rain?” you give him a look of both admiration and confusion.
“Why not? We’re already soaked, the rain won’t make a difference anymore,” Oscar pulls you closer, giving you a small twirl. Both of you giggle as you dance outside the pub. You sing along terribly with the song as you slow dance with Oscar on the slick sidewalk pavement. He teases your singing, adding his own off-tune take on the song.
As the song ends you both are slightly breathless, heaving chests pressed together. Oscars hand moves to your temple, pushing back a wet lock of hair and tucking it behind your ear. Your breath hitches as you both inch impossibly closer to eachother, his face leaning into yours. His lips are cold from the rain yet still soft as they connect with yours. The hand that pushed your hair back now cradles your neck, sending sparks through you as his other hand holds firm at the small of your back. Your right hand finds itself in his hair, wet and long. As you pull away from each other, the rain intensifies and the temperature drops slightly, just cold enough to make you want to find somewhere warm and dry quickly.
“This way,” your hand finds his and you tug him to your apartment building in a delirium of lust. As you fiddle with your keys to get in, Oscar sweeps you into another kiss, hearts racing faster in anticipation. He leads you up the staircase towards the top floor, Oscar remembers you telling him about your apartment one night over text. You stop him on the third floor landing, tugging the collar of his shirt and kissing him again, like a drug addict getting their fix.
Oscar speaks, voice low with something almost deeper than lust and admiration. “You’re so addictive, so captivating,” he whispers, making you want him more. Before you can do anything else your body shivers, cold from the rain.
“Then show me, I have a warm shower waiting for us,” you smile suggestively, this time leading him to your apartment. Once you step inside you make your way towards your bedroom without a second thought, but Oscar pauses as the door closes behind him. He looks around, observing the space you live in. It’s slightly messy in one of those ways people say they know where everything is, clearly lived in. In the corner of your living room is your own little studio, a guitar, piano, amp, other recording devices you need. Fuzzy blankets and pillows are thrown on your couch and the coffee table has a mug resting on it and the leather notebook Oscar has seen you with before is laying open beside it.
“Nice place,” Oscar smiles, looking over to see you leaning against the doorframe with the sound of running water coming from behind you.
“Thanks, sorry it’s a little messy,” you return his smile, pushing off the wall when he gets closer to you.
“It’s okay, makes it homey. Now, I believe I was promised a shower,” Oscar’s voice dips low, practically on your heels as you turn around and head to the shower.
“My poor water bill,” you laugh, towel drying your hair while walking into the bedroom where Oscar lounges on your bed.
“I’ll pay the difference,” he winks, opening his arms and inviting you to cuddle. You happily fall into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Stay the night,” you mutter, exhaustion from the day hitting you and the strange comfort of Oscar in your bed threatens to drag you further into sleep.
“Everything I have is back at my hotel,” Oscar says hesitantly, mind running through what he’d have to do in order to get to work on time.
“I have an extra phone charger, your clothes are in the dryer, and I have some laundry day clothes that probably fit you,” you reason, eyes growing heavy.
“I have to be in Woking tomorrow. Why don’t I stay until you are asleep and my clothes are dry then I will see myself out?” Oscar suggests, running his hand up and down your arm.
“Yeah. That could work,” your yawn slows your words.
“I have another free night tomorrow and the day after it is completely open. We can get a late dinner and I’ll make you breakfast the next morning,” Oscar promises with a kiss. You happily nod, resisting your head on his bare chest as you drift off.
Oscar startled awake as the dryer buzzes, surprised he dozed off. He glances down at your hair slightly damp against his chest, cheek smooshed in a way you would be embarrassed about how you look but he thinks is adorable, and your hand rests on his shoulder. Carefully, he slides out of your bed and pulls your duvet up a little so you stay warm. Oscar feels bad ordering the uber and dressing in the dark, but he does find a stack of sticky notes near the door and he writes a good morning message for you. As he falls asleep in his hotel room, he wishes he never left.
By the end of the week, Oscar has spent more time in your apartment than he has the hotel.
“When can I call you my girlfriend?” Oscar asks one night as you cuddle on the couch watching a movie.
“Let me think about it,” you wait a second, building anticipation and watching Oscar grow nervous. “Now, I suppose,” your grin melts any anxiety Oscar held as he draws you in for a quick kiss.
“Well, I can’t wait to fall asleep with my girlfriend in my arms tonight,” he says, giving you a rare, genuine smile, the one he reserves for moments that truly deserve it. It makes you fall even more as your heart flutters.
You both keep things on the down low for a while. Not just for privacy, but to avoid the inevitable awkward moment when you return to the paddock on Oscar’s arm. Oscar has said many times that he doesn’t care how fans react, but you just aren’t ready. You are happy to watch from home and send texts to his phone during the race. Oscar enjoys reading them after, especially when he’s made a move you deem to be too dangerous. Once you’ve hit the one year mark though, Oscar knows you aren’t going anywhere and you are finally ready to step into the Paddock again.
The natural choice is Melbourne. Oscar did give Lando a heads up, the latter found out about the relationship when he caught a glimpse of Oscar’s phone background. It was a photo he took during a trip to celebrate six months together. Lando freaked out, but soon learned to live with it, especially since Oscar doesn’t speak much on his relationships.
“I’m excited,” you smile in the mirror, clipping on your earring. Oscar’s bedroom is slightly messy from the contents of both of your luggage, but it feels so homey.
“You look incredible,” Oscar tells you as he enters from the attached bathroom. You both match unintentionally. His navy blue linen button down and white shorts perfectly complement your white sundress. You look like you both are about to spend a day on the beach, not go to the paddock for the first session day.
“So do you. You always do,” you gently fix his collar.
“Oscar, you are going to be late,” Nicole calls from the kitchen.
“After you,” Oscar opens his bedroom door, letting you exit first. He gives a quick visual check to make sure you both have everything and checks his bag to make sure all paddock passes are accounted for.
“Are you sure you don’t want to attend today?” Oscar hears you ask Nicole, munching on a pastry.
“No, I’ll be there Saturday and Sunday. Hattie is going with you both though,” Nicole refers to the girl entering the room.
“Someone has to protect Y/n from the crazy fans,” Hattie shrugs, ignoring Oscar’s offended look. “Most girls still think he’s single when in reality he’d be married right now if given the choice,” you stifle a laugh as Oscar’s mouth hangs open, not able to find a response. Nicole doesn’t have the same restraint and does chuckle at her son’s reaction.
“Thank you for braving all of the Oscar stuff for me,” you wrap an arm around Hattie, giving her a quick side hug.
“Is it hate on Oscar day? Was I unaware?” Oscar finally replies.
“Yeah, Osc. Sorry to break it to you,” you giggle. If Oscar weren’t deeply in love with you and didn’t know of Hattie’s affectionate bullying, he may have had a different reaction. Instead he just shakes his head and grabs his car keys, giving his mom a quick goodbye and heading to his car. You and Hattie follow behind, chatting enthusiastically about something Oscar isn’t sure that he wants to know. Oscar watches as you slide into the back seat with Hattie, not choosing the front seat to be near him. You’re supposed to hold his hand while driving. You notice his slightly confused expression.
“Sorry, Osc,” you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek before sitting back. Oscar watches you both start to record yourselves in his backseat. Hattie likely convinced you to do a tiktok with her.
Once you get to the Paddock, Oscar loses you and Hattie as soon as you enter, Hattie having dragged you off to film a tiktok.
“Lost your girlfriend?” Charles asks in amusement, Alexandra in tow.
“I think she loves my sister more than me,” Oscar shakes his head, walking with the two towards the team motorhomes.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Alexandra says, excited to have a new WAG in the paddock.
“I’ll make sure she finds you,” Oscar nods, adjusting his shirt.
“Us girls are having lunch, Charles will send you the details,” she squeezes Charles’ hand as they part ways from Oscar.
“How did you guys beat me?” Oscar asks when he spots you and Hattie inside waiting for him.
“It’s a secret,” you grin.
“Oh, you guys are matching. How… cute,” Lando says awkwardly in passing, like a part of him wants to die and another part wishes it were him. You and Oscar meet eyes but don’t respond.
“Five bucks and I punch him. Scratch that, I’ll do it for free,” Hattie comments, watching you and Oscar try not to laugh.
“Please don’t, wait until the end of the season at least,” Oscar replies. “Oh, you both have a lunch invite from the WAGs.”
“Oscar, I don’t think I qualify,” Hattie points out, not looking up from her phone.
“Charles said the invite is extended to you. I’m forwarding the texts to you now,” Oscar says before someone pulls him away.
“Hey,” Hattie turns to you, distracting you from people watching. “I finished editing the tik tok, want me to post it?” she turns around the phone to let you watch. You don’t even notice the short clip of you and Oscar walking hand in hand.
“Yes, it’s so funny,” you agree before you both head off for lunch before FP1.
The girls get over the initial shock of your return quickly, most agreeing that Oscar is much better for you than Lando, and when lunch ends Lily offers to walk you and Hattie back to McLaren.
“I’m glad we have you back in the paddock, and I can finally add you back into the group chat after you left,” Lily hugs you outside of the motorhome. Hattie darted inside to get out of the sun.
“I didn’t feel right staying in it,” you shrug, squinting slightly to see in the bright sun.
“You didn’t have to turn down invites either,” she points out.
“It was rough, I didn’t want anything that reminded me of him,” you guiltily defend your actions. “Lando didn’t bring his girlfriend?” you ask, slightly changing the topic.
“She wasn’t invited to this lunch. She will be on race day. But we really missed you,” Lily looks behind you and takes a half step back.
“I missed you guys too,” your smile is a blend of sadness and contentment. You are happy to have the support system back, but there is a part of you that wishes you didn’t work so hard to separate yourself from F1.
“Someone is waiting for you. I’ll see you later,” Lily leaves you to go into the motorhome where Oscar waits with Hattie.
“Hattie,” Oscar starts firmly, his hand instinctively finding yours. “Did you just hard launch my relationship?” Oscar asks, eyes narrowing as his hand slightly tightens its grip.
“Oops.”
#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula one#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#op81 x reader#op81 imagine
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15 minutes | jack hughes



a/n: so i love sabrina's new deluxe album, and it really holds true: put me in a room with jack hughes and i can do a lot in 15 minutes. it's all i need. anyway, ENJOYYYYY. i wrote this in one sitting, not proofread very well so i apologize in advance. SEND IN REQUESTS I WOULD LOVE TO WRITE ANY IDEAS U HAVE 🩵
summary: i can do a lot in 15 minutes, only gonna take 2 to make you finish!
warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT– mdni [18+]. rough sex, jack hitting it from behind 🤭, p in v, praise kink, unprotected sex (PLEASE remember to always practice safe sex). if i missed anything please lmk!
wordcount: 2.8k
。·:*:・゚★,。·:*:・゚☆
Tonight was another one of those nights where your skin itched, and it craved to elicit some spark under Jack's tail.
Maybe it was the atmosphere, the dimly lit conference hall that was rented out by the team that was decorated with black and red decorations, the drinks buzzing through everyone's veins and the romantic music that carried throughout the space, or maybe it was simply the way Jack looked in his suit.
From the moment Jack soothed down the fabric of his blazer, your eyes trailed from his head to feet, soaking in his appearance and salivating at the sight of your handsome boyfriend.
It was moments like these where you were reminded how Jack had you completely wrapped around his finger, drowning in a puddle of your drool over how effortlessly Jack could pull off any look. From hockey gear, to fancy suits, or even when you found him in bed, with nothing on; there was nothing Jack couldn't pull off.
So as you stood next to Jack, perfectly tucked into his side as he talked to a few of his teammates and their families, a glass of liquor in his one hand while the other was occupied around your waist, his hand on the small of your back. The small gesture, and being so close to him, sent a buzz through your veins, your body temperature slowly increasing with anticipation as Jack never seemed to have you out of his reach.
From the moment you arrived, his hands were on you and you loved it. If anything, it was your favourite thing about him; how he always seemed to know all the right places to touch you, sending warmth through your body, and sparking butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Whether it was his hand being intertwined with yours as you walked through the venue, or when you stood at the bar and his hand rubbed up and down against the fabric of your dress that splayed down your back, you itched beneath your skin to get some sort of release that was pent up as the night progressed.
So as you were stood at one of the small, round tables that reached your ribs, sipping lightly on a glass of wine you had ordered from the bar, you politely listened to the conversation Jack was having amongst his teammates and friends.
And although you desperately attempted to pay attention to the conversation, your mind couldn't help but wonder to what you couldn't seem to get out of your head: the things you could and wanted to do to Jack.
It almost felt illegal to you, for Jack to look as amazing as he did, and you felt your mouth grow wet as you watched him intently— the way his face moved as his expressions changed as he spoke and listened, how his hand would every so often raise to take a sip of his drink or run a hand through his brown curls, or how his hand that was placed on your side, would every so often rub against your skin and his thumb would circle on your hip, creating a warmth to flood between your legs.
The night had passed by relatively quickly, and by the time you were finished with your third drink of the night, you noticed people began to slowly make their way home. However, there was still a decent group of teammates and their wives and girlfriends, circled around the small bar table, laughing and exchanging stories.
Although you were interested in what everyone had to say, you were clearly more interested in getting your hands on Jack, not knowing how much more you could withstand the sensation that rose between your legs, making your skin hot.
You reached to place your hand against Jack's chest, grabbing his attention, and he looks down to meet your eager eyes, his cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol coursing through his veins.
He leans down to speak into your ear, the loud environment causing Jack's voice to sound small amidst everyone else. "What's up, baby? You okay?" He asked softly, turning his body to face yours, his hand still around your waist, now rubbing delicately against your skin.
You smiled softly at his attentiveness, "I'm good, yeah," you reassure him, nodding your head before biting your tongue to hold back what your mind is begging you to say.
Jack knows you like the back of his hand; he knows all the ins and outs of you, your likes and dislikes and all your little quirks that make you, so when he sees you hesitate to continue talking, he tilts his head down, his gaze deepening with yours, silently encouraging to continue.
You press yourself upward to meet Jack's ear, making sure no one else heard what was on your mind, and what you could be confessing to Jack— your cheeks growing warm as you reached a hand up to the nape of his neck, twirling his brown curls with your fingers against the nape of his neck.
"I need you, like— right now." You giggled, feeling a little embarrassed at your confession, and you stood back, watching Jack's face twitch as he processed your words. You could see him shutter at your words, swallowing thickly, knowing your words immediately were sent to his core, making his cock twitch beneath his pants.
He sheepishly grinned at you, pulling you into his embrace and hugging you, but while wrapping your own arms around his neck, you couldn't help but feel Jack's growing bulge press against your abdomen, making the heat that filled your cheeks spread to the rest of your body, sending an unrecognizable sensation through your veins.
Jack chuckled lowly as he planted a few quick pecks to your forehead, holding you tightly against his body.
"Babe, you can't just say that to me." He said as he leaned back to look down at you through hooded eyes, and you gave him a soft pout of your lips, looking up at Jack with doe eyes, trying your best to seduce him into breaking down his facade and giving into the temptation you were offering.
"Why not? I mean, we can be quick— I really won't be long." You said through a grin that spread through your face, both of you knowing exactly what you meant.
Jack's eyebrows rose. "Oh really, you think so?" He pressed. When it came to who could tease the other and make them a completely flustered mess, it was an ongoing competition between the two of you, and Jack made it his mission to win, leaving you hot and bothered by his words and seductive actions.
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, trying to contain your excitement and eagerness as Jack looked around to his surroundings before shaking his head and taking your hand with his own, straightening his stance.
He turned to his teammates and their significant others and announced your departure for the night, and although a few attempted to protest Jack and you leaving, they bade their goodbyes, and you began to walk urgently through the venue to the exit.
In the meantime, your hand had slipped to reach for your phone, quickly pulling up the app to order an Uber, and Jack stood behind you, both of his hands tightly gripping your hips as you were pressed up against his chest.
You lean into his embrace, tilting your head back to meet Jack's eyes, smiling and planting a kiss on his jawline before turning in his arms to get a better look.
"Y'know, we didn't have to go home, I'm sure we could've found a secluded bathroom or somethin'," you shrugged, knowing well enough that Jack would find any way to get his hands on you properly, without having to worry about being caught.
He grinned, eyes squinting as his hands that were placed on your hips, gave your skin a quick squeeze, "C'mon, babe. You cant just tease me like that and give me barely anything." He chuckled and his gaze averted to the car that was pulling up, matching the description on your phone. "And plus, when you look like this, there's no way I'm not gonna have all of you."
Your eyebrows raised in shock at Jack's remarks, following his steps towards the Uber and sliding into the backseat and you couldn't help to contain your smile that spread on your face, knowing you would be in for a treat when you get home.
The Uber ride back to Jack and your shared apartment seemed to pass by within a blink of the eye, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door, making sure it closed behind you as Jack was hot on your tail as you made your way to the bedroom.
When you entered your shared bedroom, Jack's hands that were previously on your hips, guiding you to your bedroom, now found themselves at your shoulder, fumbling with the top of your dress, attempting to slide it off of your body.
As soon as your dress was peeled from your body, Jack softly pushed your body forward, your hands coming out in front of you to catch yourself against the plush mattress, and you peered over your shoulder, watching as Jack discarded his own clothes, stepping out his boxers and revealing his swollen cock, that sprung upwards once it was free from his clothes.
Jack pumped his cock a few times, spitting into his own hand to make sure his cock was primed before he aligned himself behind you, your knees now pushed onto the mattress as you weighed on all fours, anticipating Jack to slide into you with ease.
When you felt the pressure of Jack's hips against yours and his cock filling you, stretching you out in all the best ways, you both let out a moan of relief at the feeling, letting Jack sit for just a moment and letting you adjust before he began moving his hips in a forward motion, filling you out completely until he bottomed out.
"Fuck, baby, you look so good like this," Jack groaned, his hand finding your hip to steady himself as his thrusts began to pick up in pace.
You hummed, "Mhm, just for you, only you, Jack." You nodded in reassurance, knowing the praise went straight to Jack's ego.
His thrusts immediately sped up at the sound of your remarks, and soon the sound of skin slapping against each other filled the room, your moans following each blissful thrust as Jack pounded into you. Holding your weight on your elbows, your hands gripped the sheets beneath you in pleasure as the sounds of Jack's cock sliding in and out of you made you even more wet than you already were.
"Fuck, Y/n, you're fuckin' perfect, takin' me so well," Jack groaned, his hands roaming up your back and kneading at the skin of your shoulder and neck. "Think you can tease me in front of my teammates- being a desperate little slut, wanting this cock so bad." He jutted through each breath as he hit your sweet spot, making you moan loudly as your head fell into your chest in pleasure.
"Jack, please- keep going, fuck," You encouraged as the air in your throat seemed to get caught in your throat.
As Jack continued to pound into you, your knees slid to the sides, spreading your legs further, and in an attempt to readjust your body, Jack hiked your one leg up towards your hip, stretching you to reach even deeper into your pussy that swallowed him so perfectly.
The sight of you sprawled out on your mattress, a moaning, hot mess as Jack thrusted deep inside of you, was enough to make Jack come undone only by looking at you. But the sounds that came from your throat is what threw him over the edge, his thrusts faltering as he came closer and closer to his climax.
Even you, in sync with Jack's motions, could feel the tightness beginning to form in your lower half, the shocks of Jack's thrusts spreading euphoric sensations through your skin only furthering your approach to coming undone on Jack's cock.
But what you didn't expect, was for Jack to lean forward, his teeth sinking into your shoulder lightly, and his free hand slipping underneath your abdomen and sinking down to your dripping pussy, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and beginning to rub it in all the right ways that pushed you even furhter.
His thrusts slowed, but with every thrust, he'd hit so deep into your core that the shock of pleasure erupted through your entire body, your mouth hung open, air getting caught in your throat, leaving you unable to formulate words.
"I can feel you're getting close, baby, your perfect little pussy clenching me so good, fuckin' made for my cock." Jack whispered into your ear, making you whine in response.
"Jack, I'm so close." You whined, your head falling into your arms that were sprawled in front of you, and you felt Jack's hand speed up in its circular motion against your clit, his thrusts slowly beginning to speed up as you reached your peak.
When Jack's hand and thrusts came to an abrupt halt, you turned your head to see what Jack was doing, but before you had a moment to realize he was readjusting himself to hit even deeper into you than imagined, the feeling of Jack's fingers rubbing your clit and thrusting into you, was enough for the knot to come loose in your lower stomach, as heat flooded your body, euphoria and bliss taking over your senses and you loudly moan out in pleasure, calling Jack's name repeatedly.
He continued to thrust into you, more delicately as he reached his own orgasm, before spilling into you and coming to a rest, letting his cum fill your hole to the brim. And when he pulled out of you slowly, you couldn't help but let out a small whimper at the empty feeling.
Jack then leaned over your limp body, exhaustion now falling over you as you came down from your high. He placed a delicate kiss on your shoulder, trailing up to your temple. "I'll be right back. Let's get you cleaned up, 'kay?" Jack said softly, and you nodded in response, a soft smiling rising on your face at Jack's tender aftercare.
After he slipped into the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth, he came back, delicately cleaning you up, making sure to be soft around your sensitive core, and you turned your head to watch him, noticing the grin on his face that you knew was because he felt his ego boost at the sight of you completely wrecked by him.
Not long after, you found yourselves tangled under the sheets, tucked into Jack's side as he trailed his hand up and down the side of your arm.
"You seem really proud of yourself, J, what's up with that?" You looked up to meet his gaze while your head rested on his chest.
"Well," He said as a matter of a factly, "you said it wouldn't take long for us." He pressed, "But you said that in a way that meant I wouldn't last," He continued, making your brows furrow in skepticism.
"Okay, and... what are you trying to get at?" You dragged out, searching his features to see what he was up to. His tongue toyed with the inside of his cheek, smiling sheepishly to himself, before looking back down at you.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe just the fact that you were the one to be begging for me to make you finish, pretty quickly too might I add." He said with raised eyebrows, confidence lacing through his voice.
You threw your head back in laughter, "And that should be a good thing."
"Don't worry, it definitely is," Jack reassured before leaning forward and flipping your bodies so you were underneath his broad frame, your night ending with a few more rounds to see who really could finish faster than the other.
#jack hughes#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fic#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes smut#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you
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Hannibal falling in love
It is ridiculous how wrapped around your little finger he was.
From the first moment he laid eyes on you he found his new fixation. Every time you were in the same room with him his gaze was fixed on you, observing silently every detail, getting to know you before you were even introduced.
Of course he would be very careful, almost suspicious of any new person being added to his social circle. For a man obsessed with his social image he had to be cautious of any potential competitor and you were just lovely. So charming, well educated, funny, and polite.
He found you unusually enchanting. Of course he recognised your beauty but there was something less superficial about you that just pulled him in.
The feeling was known to him yet very rare as it never seemed to have a happy end. He knew he tended to be quite intense with his emotions and that never ended well so he promised himself it wouldn’t be that way with you.
It wasn’t long till you happened to be invited to the same dinner parties through common friends. How could he not observe you when you were sitting opposite of him only a few centimetre out of his reach? Every time you happened to talk he found the perfect opportunity to study you, the way you spoke, the way you smiled, the faces you made when you found something funny, stupid or ridiculous. You tried to be discreet not to offend anyone but he noticed, he noticed and he loved every expression your precious face made.
If you happened to sit next to him he would already know what perfume you wore, what scented shampoo you used everything. (And he wouldn’t mind doing some personal research about you beforehand)
With every joke of yours he found himself truly laughing and when you spoke his inner monologue quietened and he didn’t have to pretend to be listening because he actually did.
For a man like him who spent most part of his life stuck inside his head, building fortresses against the cruelty of people you quickly broke down everything while having him feeling so comfortable and at ease with you. You had him hooked.
Of course he noticed the way other people looked at you. Women and men with their envy and lust and he wouldn't be jealous if he only knew you were his.
During his sessions he found himself unable to focus on anything, his mind just replaying every conversation you two had over and over like a broken radio. Almost every night he was awake at the most unholy hours, his mind unable to rest and stop thinking about you. That was when he knew it was inevitable.
His insomnia and love for you he treated with writing love letters and sonnets, making sketches and drawings of you as he imagined you, all of them hidden and locked in the drawer of his office and his heart too.
Now not only were you dominating his every through but his whole life too.
He would take notes into his head of your interests and would say all the perfect things to keep you interested. What were your hobbies? Art, literature, music he would become an expert for you. He knew everything from Taylor Swift's latest album to the full analysis of your favourite poem. He would do and learn about anything you liked and was passionate about, just to keep you talking to him with that sparkle in your eyes. He could do it for hours, days and every minute for the next of his life.
I hope you don’t share your affections with anyone special because if he found out which he would, they would be the next missing person in town or worse.
When you became used to him and you got to know each other better he found his chance to invite you to one of his special dinners. Only that one would be even more special as you would be the only guest hence having his sole interest. He had one whole evening to amaze you with his culinary skills, deep, meaningful conversations about art, philosophy and life. At the end of the night he had you feeling it too.
And when the time came and you became his you and the whole world would see just how smitten he is.
He laughed with every joke, he listened to you carefully and everytime your name was mentioned he couldn't help but smile. Any little things that caught your eyes you would have and if you asked for the moon itself he would find a way to give it to you.
He didn’t mind, he actually loved it. That was love for him. He wanted to be your loyal servant and your beloved and feared god all at once. Could you give him this and he would give you the world.
If you didn’t however return his affections or god forbid you betray him that would be a very different and tragic(for you) story.
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bad neighbor
member — neighbor!dino x f reader genre — smut, college au word count— 6.3k synopsis — pros of living next door to a frat house: your neighbor is really really hot. cons of living next door to a frat house: probably everything else. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, lots of making out, facial (cum on face), semi public sex (hooking up at a party) content warnings — slightly introverted!reader, chan is in college but reader isn't: can be interpreted as older!reader but that's up to you tbh, mentions of weed & alcohol (chan & reader are both sober), cameos from cheol & hoshi hehe notes — thanks again to @onlymingyus for helping me get my brain in order <3 please reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed reading!! it means a lot to me and it helps me continue writing :) i hope you like this fic!
it's still early in the evening when the music starts.
the sound of voices and cars honking outside your house draws your attention away from the latest episode of your favorite new show. you get up and walk over to the window, peeking out through the curtain at the bright headlights beaming at you.
with a sigh you push the curtain closed again, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. if tonight is like any of the other nights, then it'll be a long time before you fall asleep. hopefully the chamomile will help—is what you tell yourself every time. and every time, it doesn't help.
living in the same neighborhood as the frat houses from the nearby state university was certainly a choice, but the rent in the area was the cheapest in town and you didn't have many options left. with the fall semester coming up fast, every other apartment complex and condo in the city was already rented out. after moving in, you'd quickly discovered why the rent was so cheap: not because the house was in bad condition or because the location was inconvenient, but because of the parties. nearly every fucking night.
you might actually be impressed at how these college kids find the energy to party so often, if you weren’t so fed up with them. every friday and saturday night, and even sometimes during the week, at least one house on your block was throwing some kind of wild party.
by now you'd seen it all: drunk girls throwing up on your lawn, shirtless guys doing keg stands in the middle of the cul-de-sac, people making out literally everywhere. and yes, including that one time on halloween when you found two playboy bunnies having sex with spider-man in your backyard. how they got back there was anybody's guess, but from then on you’d started double and triple checking that your back gate was locked every night.
tonight, it seemed that the festivities were being hosted at the house across the street. and the man behind it all? none other than lee chan, president of the fraternity and owner of the house.
you'd only officially met him twice, once on the day you'd moved in and once the day after. his red honda had pulled into his driveway at the same time you were unloading your boxes from the u-haul, and he'd jumped out and offered to help carry your furniture inside.
at the time it had felt like this was finally your meet-cute moment, the friendly and unfairly attractive boy-next-door that sweeps you off your feet with love at first sight. but once the final box had been moved, he'd simply given you a smile and a wave and went back inside his house. no cute bonding, no exchanging phone numbers, no asking to see each other again. he just left.
of course, that had been before you found out about the parties, and the shock you were in for that same night when people had started showing up in droves had nearly led you to call the cops. so the next morning you'd put on a nice outfit and went to knock on his door, and it was then that you found out more about the neighborhood you'd found yourself living in.
with the same polite tone he'd used yesterday, he'd been friendly and apologetic for the noise, promising that he'd make sure everyone stayed on his side of the lawn and that no one disturbed you or your house. he'd explained that it wasn't a quiet neighborhood, no matter the time of year, but repeated that if anything happened he would take full responsibility for it. he said that you were welcome to come over any time, whether you needed something or you just wanted in on the fun.
you'd taken his word for it, sheepishly waving goodbye as you crossed the sidewalk between your houses, though you figured you would probably never set foot inside his house while there was a party going on. and as you’d walked away, you had tried to ignore the feeling of your heart fluttering with the beginnings of a crush on your neighbor.
tonight, however, your heart was doing anything but fluttering. music blasted outside, definitely a lot louder than usual, and the sound of car engines revving was already getting on your nerves.
you dunk your tea bag into the boiling water at the same time a loud banging on your door makes you jump, and you narrowly avoid spilling it all over yourself and the counter.
quietly you rush over to the door, looking out the peephole to see a group of people carrying cases of beer, looking around at your front porch.
before you can figure out how to react, you hear someone yell something distantly and the group turns around in the direction of the sound.
"shit, wrong house," one of the guys says loudly. "sorry, whoever lives here! have a good night!" he calls as they walk away, the others laughing over a joke you can't hear.
with the crisis averted, you head back into the kitchen and pull the tea bag out of your mug, chucking it into the trash with a huff. full responsibility, your ass.
and then… you have an idea.
chan had been so insistent that you could come over if you ever needed anything, so you might as well take advantage of his offer. because tonight you did, in fact, need something. you needed the party to not be so goddamn loud that you can literally feel your living room floor vibrating beneath your feet.
you stick your mug in the microwave to reheat later and quickly change out of your pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. presentable enough that you don’t embarrass yourself, yet comfortable enough that you don’t feel so awkward.
with a deep breath, you pull open your front door, keys tightly in hand as you lock it behind you and start making your way across the street.
you're almost at chan’s front door when a man steps in front of you out of nowhere, stopping you short. "hey, here for the party?" he asks, holding up his hand for a high-five.
"um… kinda," you say, lightly tapping his hand. you figure he must be the bouncer of some sort, from his friendly yet confident no-nonsense attitude and the way his thick biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. "i'm looking for lee chan, he owns the house?"
"gotcha," he nods. "gotta check your age before i let you in, though."
you pause, his words sinking in as you realize why he's asking. "oh, sorry, i didn't think i'd need my id," you apologize. "but i live next door, my driver's license is just in my wallet, i can go grab—"
"are you over 21?" he interrupts, and you frown at the question.
"uh, yes?"
"cool. head on in, then," he says.
you look at him suspiciously. "you're sure you don't need to see my id? what if i was lying?"
"dino will probably be downstairs, his room is the door at the end of the hallway on the left," he says, pointedly ignoring your questions. "and while you're down there, tell him cheol sent you. ask him to grab another beer for me."
he waves towards the open front door, and hesitantly you make your way inside. you have no idea who the hell dino is, and you can only hope it's just a nickname of some kind and the man you're about to go find isn't some stranger.
the second you set foot inside the doorway, it's like entering a completely different world. the air is stale and humid, clinging to your skin as you push through a crowd of what must be hundreds of people packed like sardines into every corner of the room.
the music gets louder the further inside the house you go, and you have to focus on repeating cheol's instructions in your head so you don’t get lost in the maze of hallways and doors. downstairs, end of the hallway, left.
you soon find out where the music is coming from. unlike the normal house lights on the first floor, downstairs everything is dark except for colorful flashing led lights around the room. a man stands on top of a table between two huge speakers as people crowd around him, jumping and shouting lyrics to the song that’s playing.
there’s so many people that you have to push your way through the crowd, but most of the people around you either don’t notice or are too drunk to care. but finally, you make it to what looks like the hallway that the man outside—what was his name, cheol?—told you about.
you open the first door on your left and find four people sat quietly on the floor passing around a bong, a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the room. all four of them look over at you at the same time, glazed eyes silently asking who the hell are you?.
"sorry, wrong room," you squeak, slamming the door and retreating back into the hallway as you try your best not to step on anyone's feet.
with a deep breath you crack open the door directly beside the one you'd just opened and poke your head inside, and relief washes over you when you see chan inside.
he's sitting on a couch with a couple girls sitting next to him and a guy slumped against his shoulder, eyes closed and brows furrowed.
he looks up when the door opens, and a look of shock spreads over his face when he recognizes you. he calls your name and you step inside tentatively, saying his name in response. "chan?"
"close the door behind you," he says, and you jump to turn around and shut it with a click. he must notice you standing like a deer in headlights, because he motions you closer to him with a friendly smile. "sorry," he explains. "people will think it's an open room if you leave the door open. i don't want anybody in here without a reason to be."
you nod, but your eyes dart over at the girls sitting beside chan. he makes eye contact with them and clears his throat, and without a word they stand up, understanding the message.
he helps the man laying against him sit up, then helps him stand up and hands him off to the others. "don't let hoshi drink anything else tonight except water, okay? keep an eye on him until your driver shows up."
they nod and slip their arms around their friend, helping him stumble out of the room as he grumbles about something incoherent. "thanks, dino," one of them says with a little wave. "see you monday for that bio test."
the girls open and shut the door quickly, suddenly leaving you alone with him in the room.
"hi," you start, not knowing what else to say. it's been such an ordeal just trying to find him that you've almost forgotten why you came searching for him in the first place.
"hi," he repeats with a laugh. "honestly, i never thought i'd see you here. you don't seem like the type. so, what brings you over tonight?"
"you've only met me twice, how would you know what i seem like?" you reply defensively, thought he's spot on. this is not your usual scene at all, and you’re sure that anyone at this party who’s even a smidge sober must be able to tell how out of place you look.
he shrugs, patting the couch seat next to him. "alright, fair point. come sit down."
you carefully take a seat, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the collection of ambiguous stains on the couch cushions.
"oh, before i forget. somebody named cheol told me to tell you he wants a beer?" you say awkwardly, relaying the message.
"bastard," chan mutters, but he's smiling, and you assume the guy you met earlier is a friend of his. "fine, i'll grab him something when i go back outside." pausing, he turns his attention back to you. "but really, why are you here? i don't wanna make any assumptions, but i doubt it's for the free alcohol."
"if i was, you'd have to tell me where to find it," you say with a shrug, and he laughs but stays quiet for you to finish.
you fold your hands together nervously. "anyway, i just came over to ask—could you maybe turn the music down, like, just a tiny bit? and also… can you tell people to stop having sex in my yard?"
he winces and gives an apologetic smile. "yeah, of course. sorry about that. i told vernon to keep it down, but you know how he gets when he's…" he stops as if he’s just realized something. "nevermind. i'll go let him know right now. do you wanna come with, or you wanna stay here?"
"no offense, but i'd rather not go back out there," you laugh awkwardly. “it was bad enough just trying to find you in the first place.”
"all good," he replies with that friendly smile of his. "it's not for everyone, that's for sure. just make sure the door stays closed, and you'll be fine in here by yourself. shouldn't take too long."
he opens the door and slips out, slamming it closed behind him. you sit unmoving on the couch, finally glancing at your surroundings.
unlike the first room, the air here is fairly clean, other than the faint smell of alcohol and weed wafting in from under the door. you realize this must be chan's actual bedroom, when you see the posters that cover the walls and the bookshelf full of knick-knacks and textbooks.
you start to wonder who else lives in this house, but soon the door opens again and chan returns, the sound of voices and music flooding in while the door is open but quickly falling quieter once the door is shut again.
"alright, he'll keep it down. i'm sorry about the noise," he apologizes again, but you wave him off, suddenly feeling shy around him. with him still standing and you still sitting, he towers over you in a way that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter back to life.
"no, it's fine. really, it's not that big of a deal," you rush, trying to ignore the growing feeling in your chest. was he always this hot? for the first time tonight you notice how his blonde hair falls in waves around his face, perfectly framing his soft features.
he shakes his head. "really, i mean it. vernon will make sure it doesn't get out of hand, he’s good at that. i can't exactly give you a quiet evening, but i can give you the best i've got."
you take a deep breath and stand up. you're already way outside of your comfort zone even just coming to this party, but maybe this experience hasn't been all that bad. after all, you got to see chan again, and you got to exchange more than a handful of words with him like you did all the other times you’d met him.
"well… what is the best you've got?" you ask him, and you almost see him raise an eyebrow.
he puts his hands in his back pockets, pausing for a second as he looks at you. "mm, best i've got? probably this room. my room. quietest in the house, and nobody will come in to bother us."
your heart races as you take a small step towards him, standing close to him but still keeping some distance between you.
"so does this mean you're not leaving?" he asks when you don’t say anything, just barely loud enough for you to hear him.
"do you want me to stay?"
he takes a step closer to you. "only if you stay with me."
"do you say that to all the people you bring in here?" your question is joking, but a part of you still worries that he thinks you're just another girl at the party looking for a one night stand. though honestly, you wouldn't even really mind if that's all this was. hell, maybe all the secondhand smoke is getting to your head and clouding your judgement, because hooking up with your neighbor seems like a pretty fantastic idea right now.
"the only time i let people in my room is to let them use my bathroom and to make sure they don't die of alcohol poisoning," he says in a low tone, a little laugh escaping him. "and now, i guess i let my hot neighbor in here, too."
"you think i'm hot?" you ask, taking another small step forward.
he matches your stride, taking one last step towards you so that you're finally standing toe to toe with him. "i'd be an idiot not to."
"but how would you know, if we've only met twice?"
he laughs. "well, you had just moved in. i wasn't gonna hit on you when you hadn't even finished unpacking your furniture yet."
"so you did want to hit on me, then," you say confidently, straightening up a little.
“did i ever say i didn't?” he rests his hands on your hips and gently pulls you towards him, closing the last of the distance between you. his eyes never leave your face, gauging your reaction and looking for any hesitation.
you wrap your arms around him and lean forward, a smile on your lips. "good to know."
he leans in the rest of the way and presses his mouth against yours, and everything else just falls into place. your hands reach up to find his hair, threading your fingers through his blond waves and tugging experimentally, and when he lets out a little noise of pleasure you kiss him harder.
the noise of the party fades into the background as his hands slide down your body to grip your ass, and you can’t help the little moan that escapes as he starts to back you up against the wall. his hands stay put, kneading your ass as you try to keep your legs from giving out already. it’s painfully obvious how bad you want him, but it’s equally obvious how he feels the same way.
“fuck, been dreaming about this since the day you moved in,” chan says, pulling away from you with a shaky breath as your fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt.
he pulls it off over his head before leaning over to kiss you again, his tongue tracing over your lips. he’s good at this; not like you’re surprised by it or anything, but it still catches you off guard.
he seems to be able to sense the tiny bit of lingering hesitancy, so he breaks apart from you but still keeps his arms firmly around you, loosening his grip just a little. “is this okay?” he asks in a low voice, but you can hear the concern laced in it.
you nod quickly, tugging your shirt off quickly and letting his hands settle at your hips before you pull him back closer. you never do this. maybe you really had inhaled too much secondhand smoke on the way in and you aren’t thinking straight. but deep down, you know that’s not the case.
as much as you hate to admit it, your harmless crush on your neighbor has grown into something much, much more. you can’t say you’ve never been a little jealous when you see girls leaving his house on sunday mornings after parties. you can’t say you’ve never let your eyes linger a few seconds too long when he goes out to check the mail and he’s wearing that tight black tank and thin silver chain he never takes off.
or the fact that he works out in his garage with the door open, and you aren’t really purposefully trying to look but it’s not your fault that your window just happened to be open. and it wasn’t your fault that you just happened to look outside and see him shirtless and bench lifting a very large amount and if you were really really quiet you could almost hear him groaning—
he slides his hands down your bare skin, hesitating again at the waistband of your jeans, but you arch your back a little to push yourself closer and he takes the hint. he easily undoes the button with one hand, and you try not to think about how many times he must’ve practiced that in order to get that skilled at it. but that thought is quickly pushed out of your mind when his hand makes its way into your pants, his fingers experimentally sliding down past your underwear and brushing through your folds.
you let out a groan, rolling your hips into his hand encouragingly. you’re already hot and sweaty, standing with your back against the door in just your bra and jeans, but it’s hard to tell if the heat is from the crowded, stuffy house or from something else.
“god, you’re so wet,” he murmurs under his breath almost incredulously as he presses his fingertip against your clit, circling the swollen bud before dipping back down to collect your arousal on his fingers.
you squeeze your thighs together out of instinct, trapping his hand between your legs, and he looks up at you for confirmation. “more,” you whimper, just loud enough to be heard over the music and the noise on the other side of the door. “chan, please.”
he groans and puts more pressure on your clit, starting to rub a little faster and a little messier. he slides his middle and index fingers inside and you let out an involuntary yelp, clenching and bucking your hips in search of more friction. he starts out slow, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion as his other hand massages the bare skin of your waist.
after more of your pleading he finally concedes, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his stomach, leaving a glistening trail of wetness on his tan skin. he glances back up at you in questioning, but he finds no hesitation in your expression as his hands start to push your pants down your legs and you kick them away, leaving you bare in front of him.
“you sure you're ready?” he pauses to ask one more time, but your quick nod has him jumping back into action in seconds.
he follows hurriedly, stripping out of his pants and shoving his boxers down to free his cock. his length springs up and slaps against his stomach, the tip looking flushed and heavy, and your mind goes blank, replaced only with the thought of him inside you. he holds himself in one hand, lining his cock up at your entrance as you adjust your position in preparation.
you groan as he finally ushes into you, your fingernails digging into the back of his shoulder blades as you struggle to balance.
“feels good?” he mumbles as he lifts your thigh, wrapping your leg securely around his hip. he doesn't move yet, his hips still as he lets you move however you need.
you barely manage to nod in return, keeping your hands firmly planted on his shoulders, slowly but surely adjusting to his size. “god, yes,” you manage, trying to keep your breathing steady. “if i'd have known you felt this good i would've come over way sooner.”
“mm, well. you're welcome over here any time.” he grins at you. his dark eyes get hazier with desire as he holds you firmly against his pelvis. “for any reason you'd like.”
the best response you can come up with is “sure”, barely listening as you start to roll your hips, but you can tell the sincerity in his statement. your attempt at movement doesn't work very well in this position, but chan quickly takes the hint, pulling back and letting his cock slip halfway out before he drives back into you.
the first thrust has you seeing stars already, and you let out a broken moan as he starts to build up his pace. your back slides against the wall as you feel the bass reverberating through your bones, and it only enhances the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.
“if there weren’t so many people in this house, i’d have you screaming my name right now,” chan huffs against your lips, pulling your body closer and wrapping his arms around you tighter.
“mm, but the music is so loud they probably wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway,” you bite back with a brazen smile. you're feeling bold, the party atmosphere filling you with a cockiness that you don't usually possess. but something about the environment, the fact that you're fucking the hottest person here while hundreds of people rave obliviously outside the door, is a thrill you've never felt before.
he rolls his head back with a groan, and you feel his thrusts suddenly getting harder and deeper. you have to fight to stay standing, using all your energy to keep yourself upright and leaning most of your weight on him, but if he notices it he doesn't let it show. all those push-ups and bench presses that you ogle him doing in his garage must be good for something, from the way he hoists you against the wall and drives his cock into you without even barely breaking a sweat.
“say it, then,” he goads, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg up. “you want to, don't you? you wouldn't have come over here tonight if you didn't.”
the worst part is that you know he's right. your own curiosity is what brought you here tonight, masked by the claims of noise complaints. the noise isn't even really that much of a bother: you could've gone to bed, turned on your fan and played some white noise, and you would've been perfectly fine. but some part of you longs to know what goes on at these parties, to see your devastatingly sexy neighbor in this setting you've never witnessed him in yet. so now that your curiosity has been satisfied, you really have nothing to lose.
“chan! fuck— mmph, yes—” you whine loudly, unintentionally clenching around him as the words fall from your lips. there's no way anyone would hear over the music, and even if they did, there's a high chance they wouldn't care either way. it's just what happens at parties.
his eyes light up at the sound, a moan of his own leaving his mouth as he thrusts into you over and over again, burying his cock as deep as he can go with every stroke. a familiar heat burns in the pit of your stomach at his movements, winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. your walls throb around his length, filling every inch of you until you can't take it anymore.
“chan…” you groan again, pulling him towards you with your leg around his waist. “please, keep going… c-close, i'm close—”
he leans in and presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth. “god, please cum for me,” he says breathlessly, pulling away but leaving just enough room for your lips to stay connected by a thin string of spit. “need to feel it, need to feel you. please, baby, fuck…”
he slams into you even harder, driving his cock right up into the spot that makes your knees nearly buckle. you manage to whimper out his name one last time before your lips go slack against his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as you crash into your climax. the force of his steady, constant thrusts combined with the force of your orgasm leaves your body tingling, every nerve alight from the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.
his movements don't ever slow, but you can see the emotion twisting in his face in reaction as he watches you cum, squeezing around him so warm and wet and perfect that it takes every ounce of his self control not to immediately follow you over the edge.
his eyes bore into yours, watching your face until he's sure you've recovered enough to handle him. he pulls out and keeps his hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, jerking himself with tiny flicks of his wrist to keep the momentum going.
immediately you drop to your knees in front of him, tilting your head back to stare up at him between his thighs, your eyes wordlessly pleading with him as your tongue nearly rolls out of your mouth.
“fuck, you're so…,” he groans, keeping his fist tight around his cock with a few final motions. “you're so fucking hot, god, i'm gonna—”
he whines and his hips buck as he spills across your face, thick white ropes landing on your tongue and your cheeks. your smaller hand reaches up to replace his and you take him into your mouth, gagging only slightly as the salty taste fills your mouth. you wrap your lips around him and swallow, letting your tongue swirl around his sensitive head to collect it all until he's finished.
he pulls back and his cock slips from your mouth, leaving you gasping and licking your lips to catch the stray drops of his cum. his voice is low and strained as he reaches out his hand to help you up, his thick biceps flexing as he pulls you to your feet. despite the blissed-out look on his face you can see the guilt in eyes and it makes you pause, wondering if he didn't enjoy it the same way you just did. but it's only another moment before he speaks again, and your short-lived worries are put to rest.
“i'm sorry it was so fast,” he says almost shyly, pulling you over to sit at the edge of his bed. “i can go again if you aren't done yet. or we can do something else… or i could walk you back home. whatever you want, i'm happy to do.”
you expression softens into a grin, still a little hazy but definitely not finished. “oh, i can go again, for sure. i've got all night if you'll let me.”
his eyes crinkle with an eager smile, and you're already spreading your legs to give him space as he falls down onto the bed between them, landing on top of you. his hand cups your chin ans he pulls you into him, his lips finding yours and melting into you with a satisfied hum. his tongue finds its place once again in your mouth, prodding inside as he kisses you with a level of passion and desperation you haven't felt in a long time.
he groans into the kiss as he tastes himself on your lips, exploring your mouth and the bitter taste he left inside. you feel the vibrations from it in your jaw and down your neck, and it only makes you kiss him harder in an effort to draw out more of those pretty sounds.
"hey, dino, didn't you say you'd bring me a beer? it's so boring standing out there—"
the door opens and you jerk away with a scream, hiding yourself under chan and using the nearest piece of clothing to cover up as someone barges into the room.
"cheol, get the fuck out!" chan shouts, wrapping his arm around you and keeping you pressed tightly against his chest, using his back to shield you from view. "fucking knock next time, dude, you know better!"
"jeez! how should i have known? i thought you said you didn't hook up at parties," cheol mutters as he turns around, slamming the door shut behind him. "i'll get the damn beer myself."
the door slams shut once again, and chan sighs and hangs his head, his forehead leaning against your chest before he reluctantly crawls off of you and crosses the room to lock the door.
“you don’t hook up at parties, huh?”
he turns around to look at you, and you pause to take him in. his hair is messier than it was when you got here, glued to his forehead with sweat and sticking up at odd angles from you tugging on it. his broad chest is tinged red with tiny scratches from your nails, and it makes you want to bite him all over, but you contain yourself for now.
your voice is teasing, but cheol’s words have honestly made you feel a million times lighter. you hadn’t expected to be anything special to chan after tonight; at the very least, you hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward when you see each other, but you’d figured you were just the next in a long line of girls waiting to have their turn with him. for once, you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.
“i’ll make an exception for the pretty neighbor girl. just this once.”
“oh, so now i'm just pretty. i thought i remembered you saying that i was the hot neighbor girl,” you giggle, watching as he hops on one leg to put his boxers back on.
“two things can be true at once,” he says with a grin as he walks back over to you still lying on his bed. “besides, i still haven't taken you out on a date yet. would be kinda forward of me to call you hot when i haven't even bought you dinner yet.”
you smile at him, trying to fight the warmth burning in your cheeks as you reach up to ruffle your fingers through his soft hair. he lets out a satisfied groan at the feeling, and it gives you an idea.
“do…” you trail off, suddenly unsure, until you see the warmth in chan’s eyes as he lays on top of you and it fills you with confidence again. “do you wanna continue this at my house? i’ve got the quietest room, and nobody will bother us.”
“mm.” he grins at the way you repeat his words from earlier, enamored with your shy yet playful tone. “if we’re at your place, does that mean i get to give you the noise complaint this time?”
“i’ll allow it.” you roll your eyes and pull yourself to sit up. “i need a shower, and i’m sure you would like one, too. plus i have food that hasn't been spilled on the floor or soaked in alcohol.”
he picks your shirt up off the floor and hands it to you with a smile, moving around his room with a quiet confidence you find unbearably hot. “does this mean anything to you, or is this just a tonight thing?” he asks.
you bite at your lip as you shimmy back into your jeans, shaky fingers sliding the button into place as you sit back down on the bed. “it does,” you reply simply. “you did tell me you'd buy me dinner, after all. i'm gonna hold you to that.”
he leans over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. “and i plan on keeping that promise.”
you stumble your way through the house, squeezing chan’s hand tightly as he pulls you up the stairs, following him towards the door. you're not worried about anyone noticing you anymore: everyone's too wrapped up in their own business to care, including you. the party seems dulled now, the music fading and the people around you becoming blank faces. all you care about is chan, your eyes roving over his broad back muscles that peek through his shirt as you trail behind him. you must look no different than every other drunk college kid here with the giddy smile on your face, but you haven't had a drop of alcohol. it's just the effect he had on you.
finally you make it outside, and the cool night air feels sharp compared to the humidity inside the house. already it seems quieter as you start to walk the distance across the street, moving away from the party and towards the comfort of your own home. chan moves up beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist while you lead the way, but you're stopped once again by the same man from earlier.
“hey,” he greets chan, only sparing half a smirk in your direction but otherwise not bothering you, despite the heat that instantly rises in your cheeks at the fact that you were caught. “did you get my beer?”
“no. you said you were getting it yourself.” he rolls his eyes, and cheol whines and gives him a look that you swear almost looks like a pout. “if anyone asks about me, tell them i'm not home. tell them i had to…” he looks over at you with a cocky grin. “…had to go take care of something. noise complaint.”
cheol groans, making a face. “god, whatever. i don't want the details. but just don't make me stand outside next time. i'm doing you a favor here. i'm supposed to be working on my thesis.”
“sure,” chan replies, but he's still stuck staring at you, barely processing his friend's complaints. “yeah. anyway, i'll catch you tomorrow.”
he tugs gently on your waist and you start walking again, leaving cheol without so much as a goodbye or even a proper introduction. you'll deal with that later, you guess. there’s a lot of things you'll have to deal with, but at least the wild parties your neighbor boyfriend throws won't be one of them anymore.
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