#somehow it's taken me over a week to do this. time has no meaning. thank you for tagging me @thepondstogether!
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tagged by @thepondstogether to do this poll tag game!
rules: go here and make a poll with your top ten long term artists and let your followers choose which one they like the most
tagged: @5centappointment, @celestialhijabi, @sxndingpostcards, @goth-miss-piggy, @theblackparadeisdead, @sikentender and anyone else who wants to do it!
#somehow it's taken me over a week to do this. time has no meaning. thank you for tagging me @thepondstogether!#honestly i'm surprised bruce springsteen is so high on my list. i've been listening to two of his songs on repeat for months and it's reall#pushed him up there....#also v surprised glee cast is not on this list at all......
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the need to know (l.dh) — part two
PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, 17.7k in part two SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. hello hello here’s part 2!! i hope you enjoy 💖 please consider letting me know if you liked it!! (if you didn’t…. well… too bad ig) part three (the last part) will be out in one week!! that’s wednesday, december 18!! if you don’t want to wait, the full fic is available now on my patreon!! okay enough rambling from me, hehe. happy reading!!
By the time you all arrive at the hotel, it’s well into the evening, the sky a canvas of blue with pastel streaks of purple, pink, and orange.
“Dang, your manager hooked you up.” Mark remarks, letting out a low whistle as you all take in the sight of the modern style yet grandiose hotel architecture.
“She’s the best, actually.” you sigh happily as you head through the front doors, eyes widening as you take in the interior design of the lobby, the decor and layout somehow more impressive and expensive-looking than the outside.
You make your way to the front desk, smiling politely at the hotel receptionist as your friends catch up to you. You give her your first and last name, and she looks through the system before handing you four small, card-sized envelopes.
“Here are your room keys! Enjoy your stay.” she says with a friendly wave, and you smile, thanking her before you make your way to the middle of the hallway near the elevators.
“How are we gonna split up the rooms?” Jeno asks curiously, and you examine the envelopes carefully before holding one up.
“Well, this is my room.” you say, wiggling the envelope in the air, and Haechan frowns.
“Says who?”
“Says the golden star sticker on the envelope, dummy,” Renjun states, and you nod in agreement. “She’s the reason we’re here, so I’m sure they set aside a special room for her.”
“Fine,” Haechan huffs.
“Wait a minute…” Jaemin says, stepping forward to look at your handful of room keys. “There are only four rooms.”
“Yeah?” Jiwoo says, confused.
“That means two to a room… and there are three girls and five guys in our group… so that means—”
“A guy and a girl are gonna have to share a room,” Jihyo finishes, and you successfully fight down the urge to meet Haechan’s gaze as he sneaks a glance at you.
“Well, should we do, like, Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who has to share?” Mark suggests, and you shrug and nod.
“Well, wait, Jeno and I will room together; we’re already roommates, so that just makes sense.”
“Yeah, but I’m not rooming with Mark,” Haechan huffs. “We’re already roommates, so we’re getting sick of each other.”
“Well, I’m not rooming with Haechan!” Renjun exclaims, shaking his head vehemently. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Haechan replies. “I think.”
“Why don’t we do Rock, Paper, Scissors between Mark, Renjun, and Haechan, and first and second place get to share a room together?” Jihyo suggests, and they grumble indistinctly before reluctantly agreeing.
The first round, they all throw rock, making it a tie.
The second round, Mark throws paper, Haechan throws rock, and Renjun throws scissors, making it a tie yet again.
The third round, Mark and Haechan both throw scissors, while Renjun throws rock.
“Hell, yeah!” Renjun cheers before looking over at you sheepishly. “I’m not cheering because I don’t have to room with you; I’m cheering for the love of the game and winning.”
“Understood,” you chuckle, patting his shoulder understandingly.
Mark and Haechan throw scissors. Then they throw rock. Then they throw scissors. Then they throw paper.
“Jesus Christ, are you two mentally linked or something?” Jaemin asks exasperatedly, and Mark scowls.
“Be quiet, I need to focus.” he says dismissively, waving Jaemin off.
Finally, the last round comes and Mark throws scissors and you’re not sure if you’re the only one who caught it, but there’s a significant delay between Mark’s hand and Haechan throwing a sign, your eyes widening almost imperceptibly in surprise as Haechan’s hand extends out flat.
“Scissors beat paper!” Mark cheers victoriously, and he and Renjun high-five.
Haechan shrugs nonchalantly at his defeat, sporting a “what can you do” kind of smile as he looks over at you. “Hey, roomie.”
You can feel Jihyo’s stare burning holes into the side of your head, and it takes everything in you to react naturally, rolling your eyes and sighing loudly.
“Okay, I guess.” you agree hesitantly, and Jihyo rubs your back sympathetically.
“We’ll see you in the morning for the festival, okay?” she says, and you nod, starting to head to your room. Haechan catches up with you easily, taking your bags from your hands and slinging one over his shoulder, holding the other in the hand not holding his own bag.
As you two walk to the elevator, you grab Haechan by the ear as soon as you’re both out of sight, shushing his yelps of alarm and pain as you pull him into the waiting elevator. You don’t release him until the doors shut on you, and when you do, he shoots you a wounded look as he rubs his ear.
“What was that for?!” he squawks, and you point at him accusingly.
“You threw that game on purpose so you’d room with me—didn’t you?”
He shrugs once more, crossing his arms smugly. “Says who?”
“I saw your hand,” you whisper loudly. “You put paper up after Mark threw scissors.”
There’s a moment in which he doesn’t speak and neither of you move, and a sly grin takes over his face as he speaks. “Do you watch my hands often?”
“Oh, shut up,” you scoff, pushing his chest.
“Maybe you’re right,” he admits as the doors open and you two make your way down the hall to find your room. “Maybe I didn’t want Mark sharing a room with you.”
You roll your eyes dramatically, finally finding your room and inserting the room key. “You’re unbelievable, actually. Nothing would have happened with Mark, and there are two separate beds.”
As you step into the hotel room, you’re taken aback by the view and the modern decor, but something else makes you stop entirely in your tracks, Haechan bumping into your back before he can pass the narrow entryway to see what you’re seeing.
“Well, I take that back.” you mumble, surprised, and Haechan splutters in horror.
“Something would have happened with Mark?!” he squawks, and you make an expression that he can’t see, face scrunched up in confusion and mild exasperation.
“What? No, Haechan.” you huff, pointing in front of you, and Haechan peers past you to see what you’re seeing.
“There’s only one bed.” he breathes, excitement creeping into his tone, and you can’t help but laugh.
“You little weirdo, why are you so okay with this?” you manage to get out through your incredulous laughter, and he smiles, setting your and his bags down before stepping closer and closer to you until you feel provoked to back up. He keeps advancing on you, smile growing as you retreat, until your legs hit the side of the bed and you plop down on your ass unexpectedly, looking up at him with confusion and a hint of panic.
“Because now,” he purrs, leaning over you so suddenly that you lean back, promptly flattening yourself on the bed as he braces himself over you with his hands on either side of your body, “I can do this,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. You squeal in surprise as he connects your lips, Haechan quickly building the intensity as he leans most of his body weight on you to keep you in place. His tongue slips into your mouth with ease, the wet, warm intruding muscle exploring your mouth like he just can’t get enough.
“Haechan,” you gasp out when he finally breaks the kiss, but your call falls on deaf ears as he kisses down your neck and lingers there, sucking and licking at various spots until he finds the one that makes you squirm. When you push at his chest, overwhelmed by the ticklish yet pleasurable sensation, he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him, pinning it up by your head.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he coos, separating from your neck long enough to hover over your face, looking you in the eyes with a small grin that you wish you didn’t find as attractive as you do. “Nervous to share a bed with me?”
“No,” you answer, probably too quickly to be convincing, and by the way Haechan’s smile grows, your suspicions are confirmed.
“Aw, baby… do I make you nervous?” he teases, and you huff, pushing at his chest with your free hand. He’s quick to restrain that one too, and you won’t lie: a thrill travels up your spine at him using his strength to overpower you. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, and his eyes flash with delight.
“You’re not even gonna try to deny it?” he taunts, leaning down and nuzzling his nose against yours, urging your head up in anticipation for another kiss. “How cute.”
“You’re being mean,” you grumble, bucking your hips upwards to throw him off. He laughs and shakes his head in disagreement.
“Could never be mean to you, baby.” he murmurs, leaning back in for another kiss. “I just like playing with you.”
“Well, quit it; I wanna shower before bed.” you say with a pout, and he smiles down at you fondly, eyes dragging between your eyes and your lips. “What is that look in your eyes for?”
“You’re cute when you’re the whiny baby.” he points out, and your frown deepens, brows knitting together. “Don’t worry, baby; I’m gonna dote on you just like you dote on me.”
“I’m not a whiny baby.”
“Oh, yeah? Then why are you pouting?”
“I’m upset.” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow as if to say, “Is that so?”
“Why are you upset?” he muses, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. “Because I’m pinning you down? Because I’m kissing you?”
“Because you’re teasing me.” you correct him, and he blinks at you before a knowing smile curls his lips.
“So you’re not upset that I’m pinning you down and kissing you?” he asks rhetorically, and you blanch, realizing you’ve backed yourself into a corner. “Mm, don’t worry, baby; when you get out of that shower, I’m gonna pin you down some more and kiss you over… and over… and over again.” he purrs against your lips, stealing a sudden, passionate kiss from you before sitting up and releasing you.
Your mind is dazed from his kisses and the onslaught of attention he’s just given you, and it takes you a moment to process that you should probably get up. Your delay doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, who grins widely.
“You like my kisses that much, huh? What about your shower?” he teases, and you huff, glaring at him before pushing yourself up to a sitting position.
“I’m going,” you mumble, standing up and grabbing your toiletries bag before you make your way into the bathroom.
You’re rinsing off in the shower when the door opens, and you freeze as Haechan enters the room.
“What are you doing?” you ask, gripping the shower curtain carefully to conceal yourself as you peer around it at him. “Nope! Nuh-uh. No.”
He hesitates as he unbuckles his belt, looking up at you with a frown. “Why not?” he complains, and you wet your hand before flicking water at his face. He flinches back, eyes scrunching shut as he wipes his face and glares at you petulantly.
“What makes you think you can just get in my shower?” you ask incredulously, and he grins at you, brows raised suggestively.
“Aw, come on, baby,” he coaxes, stepping closer to the shower. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he reminds you. “Plus,” he adds with a cheeky wiggle of his brows, “I’d love to see it again.”
“Yeah, I bet you would,” you mutter. “But too bad! Get out!”
He narrows his eyes at you and opens the bathroom door, slinking out in defeat as he mutters something about the world being unfair.
“You’ll live,” you call after him.
“Will I?” he calls back, but the door shuts and when you peek out again, he’s nowhere to be found, leaving you to finish your shower in peace.
When you’ve finished with your nighttime routine, you crawl into the bed beside Haechan, who looks over at you from his phone.
“Took you long enough,” he huffs. “You were in there for ages. I got lonely.”
“Aww, did you miss me?” you coo teasingly, reaching over to pinch his cheek.
“Yes,” he grouches, and you beam.
“What was that?” you ask, tilting your head and putting your free hand behind your ear.
He rolls his eyes before setting his phone down on his stomach and glowering at you. “Yes, I missed you.”
“How cute.” you hum, releasing his cheek and lying on your back, unlocking your phone.
He shuffles closer to you and rests his head on your shoulder, watching as you check your social media, making sure your follower count is relatively the same as it was the day before, and you text back your PR manager, confirming the logistics of the music festival tomorrow.
“So that lady handles all your social media scandals?” he asks curiously, and you nod.
“I mean, I’ve never had a scandal, but if I did, she’d do damage control. She mostly organizes my promotional content and gets me cool deals and PR boxes.” you explain, and he hums thoughtfully.
“What’s a PR box?” he questions.
“It’s those boxes of, like, makeup or clothing, or products various brands want me to try.” you reply patiently, and he nods slowly in understanding.
“You know, I feel like you do a lot more work than I thought.” he observes, and you scoff.
“I’ve been waiting for you to realize that.”
“I’m serious! I feel like you work really… really hard,” he says, his voice dropping ever so slightly in pitch.
“I do,” you agree.
“You deserve a reward.” he decides, and you nod before it hits you that, knowing Haechan, he’s probably thinking of something entirely different.
Your suspicions, once again, are confirmed as one of his hands trails up your bare leg, stopping just before your sleep shorts.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it feel like I’m doing? I’m touching you.” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss your shoulder.
“I’m not dumb. Why are you touching me?”
“Well,” he muses, “like we just said, you work so hard… so you deserve a little treat.”
“Uh-huh,” you say skeptically. “And?”
“And…” Haechan trails off, making you look over at him. He’s looking down at the lump where his hand rests on your leg and you watch as he wets his lips slowly before looking up at you. “You look so good in your little pajamas.”
“There it is,” you chuckle, and he joins you, fingers trailing further up your leg to slip ever so slightly under your shorts.
“You really do look good, baby,” he purrs seductively, and you curse internally as you realize he’s bringing out the big guns. “And you smell good…”
“Okay, Haechan.” you say, patting his hand under the covers.
“Good enough to eat,” he grunts in your ear, and you squeal at the sensation, squirming away from him.
“Hey!” you yelp. “Get your hands off of me,” you huff, pushing at his fingers. “Don’t be yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty.”
“But I love being yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty,” he chuckles, bringing his lips to your ear once more and holding you down as he brushes his lips against the inner parts of your ear. “It’s one of my favorite things to be.”
“One of?”
“It comes very close to being on top of you.” he answers with a grin and a flick of the tongue at your ear, and you scowl, pushing him back with a groan.
“Well, too bad,” you huff, but he persists, fingers slipping higher and higher still up your shorts until you could probably lift the covers and see his hand completely disappearing under the thin fabric, fingertips grazing your underwear-clad skin so lightly it almost tickles.
“Well, then; what do I do now?” he murmurs against the spot behind your earlobe, his words sending more ticklish vibrations down your spine, making you shudder involuntarily.
“Uh, gee, I don’t know…. stop?” you reply with a sarcastic roll of your eyes.
“What if I don’t want to?” he questions, leaning closer to you and trailing his lips from behind your ear to just a breath away from your lips. “What if I want to kiss you?”
“Too bad,” you mutter weakly, your resolve slipping due to a number of factors: his voice, the suggestive lilt to it, and the way his fingers are starting to trace slow lines up and down your slit, deliberately avoiding your clit.
“Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” he coos, shifting his body entirely to climb on top of you. “Gimme a kiss. Just a little good night kiss.”
“You’re very persistent, you know that? Like a dog with a bone.”
“I like to call myself determined.” he replies easily, smiling as he leans in even closer to the point where you can feel his breath fanning over your lips. “Remember when I said if I want something, I get it?”
“Yeah?” you reply quietly, barely moving your mouth as you speak for fear even the slightest pucker of your lips would result in a kiss.
“What I want now,” he explains slowly, eyes trained on your lips even through his lowered eyelids, “is a kiss from the prettiest girl I know.”
You pause, thinking it over, and his smile widens as your brows furrow in frustration before your eyes roll and you sigh in defeat. Not needing to hear anything else, Haechan closes the gap, kissing your lips softly with a tenderness that takes you by surprise.
“I hate that that worked on me,” you groan against his lips, and he grins into the kiss.
“I love that it did.” he mumbles into your mouth. “Love kissing you, baby.”
“Mm, yeah?” you hum, running your hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” he sighs dreamily. “Wanna kiss you everywhere,” he adds, connecting your lips again in a wet kiss that results in a soft smacking sound when you two part.
“Everywhere?” you reply curiously, and he nods, starting to smile as his head moves lower and lower until it’s disappearing under the covers. “Where are you going?”
“Wanna kiss you here,” he mumbles against your stomach, hands lifting up the hem of your shirt to reveal your bare flesh. He does just that, kissing a path from under the bottom of your bra to the waistband of your shorts. “I really wanna kiss you here,” he growls softly, and you feel his nose and upper lip brush against your skin as he takes the waistband of your shorts in his teeth, pulling the elastic back before letting it snap against your skin.
You yelp in shock, and he laughs, kissing along where your stomach slightly stings from the contact as a wordless apology. He slips an arm under your leg, moving it to drape over his shoulder, and nuzzles his face into the seat of your underwear, another sound of surprise leaving you before it’s cut off with your moan as he groans into your concealed core.
“Pussy smells so good,” he mumbles, words dragging together as his nose nuzzles and rubs against your clothed clit. “You’re so wet, too—and you were really gonna try to convince me you didn’t want this?”
“Please shut up,” you say shakily, and he chuckles.
“Less talking, more licking?” he questions, and at your whine of frustration, he laughs, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it through the fabric.
“Shit—” you hiss, attempting to squirm away, but he holds onto you firmly, pulling your underwear to the side and dragging his tongue up your slit. You can feel the wet warmth of his tongue gliding along your folds as well as his hot breath as he groans against your flesh, lewd sounds of sucking, slurping, and kissing filling the room as he sloppily makes out with your core. “Oh, my God,” you whimper when he focuses his tongue on your clit, alternating between swirling it around the bud, flicking it back and forth, and massaging it with the flat of his tongue.
“Tastes so good, baby.” he rasps, a rhythmic rustling sound catching your attention and piquing your curiosity. A glance down at where Haechan lies prone on the bed under the covers grants you the sight of his body moving, hips rutting into the bed as he tongues at your core feverishly with no signs of stopping. “Could eat this sweet pussy all night.”
“Please—” you start, words cutting off in favor of a gasp as he trails two fingers down your folds from your clit to your entrance that’s currently dripping arousal.
“Please, what? You want my tongue, hm? Or my fingers?” he murmurs, lips coated with a mix of his saliva and your arousal as he sucks noisily at your clit, the two fingers prodding at your entrance easing into you ever so slightly. You hiss loudly, fingers clutching the bed sheets as his mouth ravishes your core, his fingers pushing in deeper as he flicks his tongue over your clit rapidly.
“Feels so good,” you cry out weakly, and he nods vigorously into your core, fingers starting to pump in and out of you.
“Wanna make you feel good, baby,” he moans into you, tongue lapping at your clit, your folds, and around where his fingers keep slipping into you. “So fucking wet—”
“I–I’m close,” you stammer, and he hums contentedly, fingers speeding up and curling to massage your g-spot. Your nails scratch uselessly at the comforter on the bed, part of you wanting to lift the covers and watch as Haechan devours you with an unrestrained greed and a remarkable level of glee.
“Want you to cum,” he mumbles drunkenly against your clit. “Wanna feel it—wanna taste it—cum for me, baby, cum all over my face—”
Your back arches off of the bed as your abdomen tenses almost painfully, your climax spreading through you slow but thick like molasses in your bloodstream. You feel heavy and lightheaded all at once, a series of shaky breaths and moans of Haechan’s name leaving your lips as you try to compose yourself to no avail.
Haechan doesn’t let up, free hand clutching your thigh and pulling you down further onto his face greedily, tongue ravenously delving in and out of your folds to taste the cum leaking from your core. Your breath catches in your throat with a sharp whimper, hips bucking up to meet his mouth even as the rest of your body squirms, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you.
“Can’t—” you pant, pushing weakly at Haechan’s head over the covers. “You gotta stop—”
“‘M not done yet, baby.” he grunts, voice throaty and thick as he sucks your folds into his mouth. “Just a little bit longer—you can take it, right?”
“I—” you whine, not even sure what you were going to say once Haechan’s tongue connects with the underside of your clit. “Fuck!”
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes, gently pulling back the hood to your clit and licking at the exposed bud. You cry out loudly, and he moans in response, tongue speeding up in its actions. “Wanna cum one more time for me?”
“No—” you gasp, attempting to squirm away from him. It feels good, so unbelievably good, but you’re not sure if you can handle another climax right away without giving your poor, hypersensitive clit a break.
“I wasn’t actually asking,” he informs you, voice muffled as he presses his mouth to your entrance, his tongue joining his fingers and entering you, wet muscle flicking and licking and stroking until you’re climaxing again, your thighs closing around his head tightly as your hips buck upwards and your body trembles, muscles tensed, tight as a violin string.
This time, Haechan relents, slowly slipping his fingers and tongue from you and turns his head, kissing along your inner thighs before making his way back up to your face, where he kisses you deeply.
“Got you nice and ready,” Haechan murmurs with a smile, “so now you can take my cock.”
You don’t even have it in you to pretend to protest, instead nodding dazedly and gazing up at him expectantly with half-lidded eyes.
“Fuck, don’t give me those eyes unless you’re trying to go all night.” he warns you, and you blink slowly, trying to fix your face. Haechan pushes the covers off of his shoulders and sits up slightly, tugging his boxers down to let his erection spring free. He trails his fingers up your slit, chuckling when you jolt, and wraps the hand around his length, using your arousal as lubrication as he strokes himself, eyes on you the whole time.
Finally, he aligns his tip with your entrance, pushing into you with a slow, fluid thrust that still manages to knock the wind out of your lungs.
“You feel that, baby?” he coos, taking your hand and pressing it to just below your stomach. As he drags his thick length in and out of you, you can feel him moving inside of you, a soft gasp of surprise leaving you at the realization. “Yeah, you’re taking me all the way in your pretty little pussy—doing such a good job—”
“Haechan,” you plead weakly, reaching for him with your free hand. He leans over you and grants your unspoken wish, molding his lips with yours and deepening the kiss immediately, sucking gently at your bottom lip.
“Yeah, you like when I fuck you nice and deep like this, right?” he murmurs in a low voice, tongue slipping into your mouth to swirl around yours.
“Mm—yeah—” you barely manage to get out.
“Like feeling every inch of my cock deep in your little pussy, yeah?” he eggs you on, and the almost taunting edge to his words is inexplicably more arousing than you expected, your body now hopelessly hurtling towards yet another climax. “Fuck, baby, you just got so tight around me—your pretty pussy must really like me.” he remarks smugly, his unshakable confidence not helping you keep your composure.
“Wanna cum—Hae–chan, please—” you gasp, and he grins, kissing you again.
“Gonna cum too, baby, hold it for me for one second—I’m almost there—”
“Can’t hold it—”
“Yes, you can, baby, just a little more—”
“Haechan—” you moan, both a warning and an exclamation of pleasure.
“Cum, baby, let it go,” he grunts finally, and you do just that, the feeling of release so blissful it brings tears to your eyes. His thrusts slowly come to a stop as he pumps his load into you, his cum filling you practically to the brim—and then some, because a decent amount trickles out of you as he continues to lazily move his hips. “Good?”
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, your chest heaving as you wipe a stray tear as surreptitiously as possible.
“Are you crying?” he asks incredulously, brows raised in surprise.
“Allergies,” you lie, and he shoots you a skeptical look.
“Sure, baby.” he chuckles, pulling out of you, tucking himself back into his boxers, and lying down beside you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask curiously as you spot Haechan’s arm moving to drape over your waist.
“Uh…” he stops short, caught red-handed, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“No cuddling.” you repeat the rule back to him, and he scowls at you before rolling his eyes. “Plus, we both need to shower now.”
“Wanna shower together?” he offers with a wiggle of his brows, and you chuckle.
“No.”
“Just evil, I swear.” he grouches, and you scoff in amusement.
“At least I’m not yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty.”
“You seemed to like how yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty I am when I had my tongue all over your pussy a couple of minutes ago.” he replies smugly, and you grimace, covering your ears.
“Can’t hear you! Go shower!”
He wraps a hand around your wrist and pulls it away from your ear, replacing it with his lips as he murmurs, “You can deny it all you want, but that pretty pussy wouldn’t lie to me.”
“Shower!”
“Fine,” he sighs loudly, climbing off the bed and walking to the bathroom. “You sure you don’t wanna shower together?” he tries one more time hopefully, and you grab the nearest pillow and chuck it at him.
“Shower! Now!”
“Just cruel and wicked and evil.” Haechan grumbles, picking the pillow up from the floor and tossing it back onto the bed. “Hate that it kinda turns me on.”
“Haechan, I swear to God—”
“I’m going!”
The following morning, you’re getting ready for the festival in Jihyo’s and Jiwoo’s room, much to Haechan’s dismay.
(“I just don’t get why you can’t get ready in here with me,” he’d complained, following you around as you gathered your makeup and various clothing options.
“Because,” you reply patiently, “Jihyo and Jiwoo are gonna help me figure out my makeup and my outfit.”
“I could help you with that!” he squawks indignantly, and you sigh, an amused smile on your lips as you turn to face him, placing a hand on your hip.
“Okay, Haechan; should I go with a warm-toned cut crease or a smoky eye look?” you ask, and you can practically watch as the gears in his head spin and overheat and eventually stop, Haechan frowning deeply at you.
“Okay, fine.” he mutters in defeat.
“I’ll see you downstairs before we head over to the festival.” you promise, and he grumbles indistinctly, brows furrowed together. You step forward and press a soft kiss to the space between his brows, watching as he relaxes slightly. “That’s better,” you remark, pleased.
“One more kiss for the road?” he asks hopefully.
“Haechan, what road?”
“It’s an expression!”
“Fine,” you relent, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. He groans in delight and winds his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. One kiss turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into you peeling yourself off of a whining, grouchy Haechan and wiggling your fingers in a goodbye, blowing him a quick kiss before slipping out the door.)
As you do your eye makeup—the girls opted for a warm-toned smoky eye look, which is exactly what your outfit needed and the exact reason why you consulted them in the first place—Jihyo calls your name, making you meet her gaze in the vanity mirror.
“So, how was your night last night?” she asks curiously, but you know her too well; she’s never asking just to ask; there’s always an ulterior motive to her every move, and so you proceed with caution.
“Eh, it was fine. You know Haechan snores?” you remark lightly, and Jiwoo snorts.
“Was it loud?”
“No, I just had to roll him onto his side and he slept like a baby.” you explain, and Jihyo scans your face, no doubt searching for anything that could give you away. You remain calm and neutral, continuing to blend out your eyeshadow, and she finally relaxes, seemingly satisfied for now.
“What did you guys do all night? Jiwoo and I watched a movie.” Jihyo questions, and you turn to look at her.
“What movie? And you’d better not say anything I haven’t seen yet.” You point a finger at her accusingly, eyes narrowed playfully, and she snickers.
“We watched Aquaman.” she answers, and you gasp loudly. “You’ve seen that!”
“You let me miss out on a chance to see Jason Momoa all wet and muscular?! Do you even love me for real?” you wail, bringing the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically. “Oh, I could faint.”
“You’re overreacting—”
“The horror!”
“Girl, you’ve seen it—”
“The betrayal!”
“I swear to God—”
“I may never forgive you, you know.”
“Oh, hush!” she finally laughs, joining in on your and Jiwoo’s giggling. “You’re too much.”
“You love me.” you pout, turning to look at her, and her features soften into a warm, fond smile.
“I really do.”
The festival is packed with hundreds of people, various vendors set up under tents to shelter from the sun, and the stage is huge, with a catwalk going down the middle of the platform.
“Holy shit, you guys.” Jiwoo exhales in awe, looking around at the scenery. “It’s so crowded.”
“There are snacks everywhere,” you sigh dreamily. “I’m in Heaven.”
“I can’t wait to try everything,” Renjun says excitedly, and Mark nods in agreement.
“Those churros are calling my name right now.” he groans, and you all follow after an almost entranced Mark as he makes his way through the crowd to get in line for the churros.
As you wait, you realize that you rarely have to do your job in front of your friends, and the prospect of suddenly doing so makes you nervous. “I just wanna warn you guys that I need to film content while I’m here… that’s the whole reason we got to come.” you inform your friends, who nod or agree verbally.
“If you need help filming, I got you,” Jaemin offers, and you immediately nod, handing him your phone.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” you sigh in relief, taking his wrist and pulling him over to the next snack tent that catches your eye, the both of you unaware of Haechan’s disapproving gaze following you.
“You know, you’re spending a lot of time with Jaemin,” Haechan points out, and you blink at him slowly.
“He’s my photographer.” you explain bluntly, and he makes a disapproving face.
“I could be your photographer,” he replies in a huff, and you roll your eyes.
“Are you as good at photography?” you ask, and he nods immediately, making you roll your eyes as you decide to call him on his bluff. “Okay, take this next photo for my Instagram.”
He sets up his position as he angles the phone towards you, and you make a cute pose, holding it until Haechan gives the okay to move.
“Done?” you ask, and he nods, presenting you with the screen proudly. You look over the photo and— “Haechan?”
“Yes?”
“How do I say this…” you wonder aloud before deciding to rip the bandaid off. “Your photos aren’t as good as Jaemin’s.”
“What?!” he exclaims incredulously, and you nod sympathetically with pursed lips.
“It’s blurrier.” you point out.
“It’s not!”
“Haechan, I’m looking dead at it. It’s blurrier.”
“Well—fine, I can be your creative director.” he suggests, nodding proudly, and you raise your eyebrows before just shrugging in defeat and nodding. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom—don’t film with Jaemin while I’m gone.” he warns you, and you wave him off dismissively, nodding.
When he disappears, it takes a minute for Jaemin to find his way back over to you, reaching for your camera and phone only to tilt his head in confusion when you deny him.
“Haechan wants us to wait for him to come back.” you explain, and he nods slowly.
“And why do we care what Haechan wants?”
“Aw, don’t say that! He’s our friend!” you protest, and he raises his eyebrows.
“Okay, well, I’m your friend and I wanna film now.” he says, and you blink, conflicted. A knowing smile tugs at his lips and he steps closer, speaking more intentionally as he says, “I thought so. I’m gonna ask you again: why do we care what Haechan wants?”
Lost for words, you scan the crowd for an out, your salvation coming in the form of one of your favorite songs starting to play. “Ooh, I love this song! I’m gonna go dance,” you say, and Jaemin rolls his eyes with a smile before gesturing for you to join the group of dancing bodies.
The music consumes you as you move to the beat, and you’re swaying your hips with your eyes closed when two hands land on your hips.
“Back from the bathroom already?” you chuckle, receiving no response. Shrugging, you continue to dance, it dawning on you a moment later that this is quite the compromising position to be caught in.
You turn to your left to make sure your friends aren’t watching, only for your heart to jolt with a lurch when you see Haechan standing a foot away from you with an affronted expression.
If that’s Haechan, then who’s behind you?
You turn around with a whirl, eyes wide, and your features contort into anger when you see some absolute schmuck of a stranger standing behind you.
“And who the hell are you?” you ask, not caring how rude you sound.
“I’m Chad.” he says, grinning too widely.
“Right… and why are you dancing on me?” you question.
“I’m a fan of your content and I saw you dancing over here and, y’know, thought I’d take the opportunity.” he explains, and you blink at him for a moment.
“Well, thank you for liking my content.” you say sincerely, and he smiles, nodding. “Did you, um, come with anyone?”
“Yeah, I lost my friends a couple minutes ago… do you mind if I hang out with you until I find them?” he requests, rubbing the back of his neck, and you pause to think before shrugging reluctantly.
“I guess you can hang out with us,” you say finally, and he beams at you, jerking his chin at Haechan in a greeting Haechan doesn’t return, your friend still eyeing the newcomer suspiciously.
“Well, I’m gonna get some snacks…” you say carefully, eager to leave the uncomfortable atmosphere.
“Let’s go,” Chad suggests, and you hold back a sigh, not looking forward to babysitting this stranger, but head to the fried dough tent regardless, deliberately giving Haechan a look that signals for him to follow you.
Of all the moments for Haechan to leave your side, of course he picks now when you actually need him. Chad follows you around like a lost puppy, poorly attempting to hit on you and even get you to leave with him at one point, and you wish you could see literally any of your friends right now, but especially Haechan.
“I love this song,” Chad says, tugging you closer as he attempts to dance with you.
“I feel like I made it clear earlier that I don’t want to dance.” you say impatiently, and Chad frowns, the expression nowhere near as cute as when Haechan does it, pulling you closer and closer still. You’re debating smacking him, but you know that would be horrible for your image.
However, you may have spoken too soon about Haechan disappearing, as Haechan appears to your right, taking your hand and pulling you away from a confused Chad firmly.
“Haechan,” you say breathlessly, never happier to see him. “Where are we going?”
“We need to go back to the hotel,” is his only reply as he pulls you through the mass of bodies at the festival, not caring one bit about the affronted glares and annoyed muttering under people’s breath as he pushes past them.
“Haechan, you’re causing a disturbance,” you warn him as you two finally clear the crowd, and he stops in his tracks, whirling around to face you.
“I’ll drop my pants right now and show everyone a real disturbance when I fuck you right here.” he replies in a low, surprisingly serious voice, and you blink, stunned. “That sound good to you?”
“No,” you say quietly, surprised by the shift in his energy, and he nods curtly before turning back around and continuing to lead a much more cooperative you to, you presume, the hotel.
When you get to the hotel, Haechan has the decency to act natural, now leading you a bit more gently to the elevator. Once the doors open, though, all decorum is out the window, Haechan tugging you in and practically flinging you against the wall.
“Jesus, Haechan—” you gasp, but your words are muffled by his lips on yours.
“You’re mine, you know?” he grunts into the kiss. “You trying to drive me crazy?”
“What?” you ask, baffled. “Haechan, I thought that was you behind me!”
“Well, it was that weirdo and he kept flirting with you—pissed me all the way off.” His lips travel south to kiss your neck, but he’s rough with you—biting you, sucking hard at spots until you whimper, and finally he licks a stripe up from your collarbone to your jaw before turning your face towards his for another searing kiss, this one a mix of teeth and tongue as he molds his lips with yours feverishly. “I don’t like that freak touching you—”
“Neither did I—”
“I should be the only one touching you.” he ignores you as if you hadn’t spoken, sucking on your bottom lip harshly before pulling back and letting it slip back into place.
He pushes his hand into your shorts, nimble fingers finding your clothed clit with ease and stroking it teasingly as you cry out in surprise and pleasure.
“Shh, shh, shh,” he coos against your lips. “Don’t want anyone waiting for the elevator to hear you.”
His words remind you once more that you are, in fact, very much in a public elevator, and you gasp in surprise, pushing at his wrist inside your shorts.
“Haechan, what if the doors open? What if someone sees—” you moan, a hint of panic in your voice, but it fades away when he presses harder against your clit and drops his head down to suck at your neck.
“Relax, we’re almost there,” he soothes your worries with another, slightly gentler kiss before returning to his task of sucking at various spots on your neck, teeth scraping over the heated skin before he’s pulling back as the elevator slows to a stop.
The doors open on your floor and Haechan takes your hand once more, not-so-gently pulling you after him to the hotel room. He pulls the room keycard out of his pocket and slips it into the slot, the small beep and clicking sound of the door unlocking prompting him to open the door and pull you inside.
Yanking you into another kiss, he focuses on unbuttoning your shorts and backing you towards the bed. When the backs of your legs connect with the side of the bed, he pushes you onto the bed, leaving you bouncing on the bed slightly from the impact as he drops to his knees in front of you between your legs.
“Fucking mine,” he growls under his breath, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your neck to your chest. He tugs your bra down so your breasts are practically spilling out, his lips on your skin immediately. He sucks at the flesh of your breast, swirling his tongue around your areola before focusing in on your nipple, sucking the bud between his lips as you moan and slide your fingers into his hair.
“What happened to ‘no jealousy?’” you tease lightly, and he pulls away from your nipple with an embarrassingly loud wet pop, glowering up at you.
“Fuck that right now,” he grumbles. “You didn’t even want him. I’m just reminding you that you could do so much better than him.”
“And you’re… the ‘better’ I could be doing, right?” you reply with a growing smile, and his eyes narrow at you.
“Don’t piss me off.” he mumbles, returning his lips to your nipple and sucking, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak. You arch your back in pleasure, pushing your chest further into his face, and he takes the intrusion eagerly, pressing his face into your breast until his cheeks are smushed by either side of your breast.
One hand gropes at your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh while occasionally drawing circles around your nipple to mimic the traces he’s making with his tongue on your other nipple. His free hand moves from beside you on the bed and slips back into your pants, this time pushing past your underwear and dragging two fingers up your folds, collecting the arousal and swirling it around your clit.
“Feels good,” you sigh blissfully, fingernails lightly scratching at his scalp, and he groans so lowly it could almost pass for a purr.
“Yeah? Think he could do a better job?” Haechan huffs, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“Shut up about him,” you urge Haechan, and he sucks his teeth, pulling back from your nipple with one last flick before switching to the other one. His fingers dip into you, as if testing your readiness, and he sucks in a breath at how eagerly your core welcomes him in.
“So fucking wet for me, baby.” he teases, and you whine in anticipation, pushing your hips forward to push more of his fingers into you. “Wanna feel more, yeah?”
“More,” you pant, nodding eagerly, “please.”
“Anything for the pretty girl,” he coos, pushing his fingers in to the last knuckle and curling them, relishing your responding moan, before he starts to move them in and out.
“Fuck—feels so good—” you moan when he finds that sensitive patch along the inside of your walls that makes your breath hitch and your hips buck.
“Pretty girl’s all mine, right?” he grunts, tongue lolling out to flick at your nipple, the wet muscle traveling over the bud repeatedly as his fingers pump in and out of you.
“Yeah,” you whine, and he grins, leaning up to kiss you. He nips at your bottom lip playfully and you make a tiny, plaintive whimper that he coos affectionately at before your stomach starts to develop that telltale tightening feeling. “Mm—wanna cum—gonna cum—”
“Then cum, baby,” Haechan chuckles, fucking his fingers into you faster. “Who’s stopping you?”
His words send you over the edge and you free fall into an ocean of pleasure, warmth spreading through your body as you climax. Your abdomen tenses repeatedly, your walls clenching around his fingers and making him suck in a loud breath of surprise, his eyes glazing over with desire.
He keeps moving his fingers in you until your body shudders subside, kissing at the corner of your mouth sweetly as you ride out your high. You’re prepared for him to take his fingers out of you, so it surprises you when he doesn’t, instead pressing your chest down until you’re lying on your back, his fingers gradually picking up the pace again.
“Wha—fuck, Haechan—” you swear, trying to squirm away from him.
“Where you goin’, baby?” he chuckles, moving forward to follow you. “We’re not done here.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Spread those pretty legs for me.” he coaxes, kissing where your knees meet before trailing more, wetter kisses up your legs to right where your shorts end. He pulls his fingers out for a moment, granting you reprieve before hooking his fingers in your shorts and pulling them down off of your legs. He flings them behind himself, a soft muted thud sounding out somewhere behind him before he moves more onto the bed, lips attaching to your inner thigh to suck and lick at various patches of skin. “Gonna eat your pretty little pussy,” he grunts, pulling your underwear to the side, “and remind you there’s no one better than me.”
You refrain from telling him that you’re already quite aware of that, given that he’s made you cum every time without fail, because you don’t necessarily want to make him prove it again… and again… and again.
Your thoughts just about fly out of your head when he drags his tongue up your slit in a long, wet stripe and groans lewdly, the sound making heat rush to your face. He starts to lap at your core fervently, most certainly on some sort of mission as he massages the underside of your clit with his tongue.
His fingers find their way back to your entrance, lips wrapping around your pulsing clit just as he slips two digits into you. You cry out at the pleasure, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he ravishes your poor sensitive core with his tongue and fingers.
His eyes are closed at first, losing himself in the taste of you, and you can just barely see where his fingers keep disappearing into you. There are wet sounds coming from your core with every move he makes, but you don’t even have it in you to be properly embarrassed, your mind reeling with pleasure as he tends to you.
“Tastes so fucking good, baby.” he groans, making an obnoxiously loud slurping noise, and you whine, all the embarrassment you lacked before making its way to the surface of your cheeks as you flop back down, throwing an arm over your face. “No, no, no, look at me.” he urges, mouth still pressed to your core. “Want you to watch me eat your pussy.”
“Fuck,” you curse weakly, propping yourself back up to watch him. His eyes are open now, laser-focused on your face as he slurps and licks and messily makes out with your core. With every moan and reaction from you, his eyes light up with a blazing intensity and after some point, his resolve seems to snap as he surges forward, practically burying his face in between your legs and licking at your folds as his fingers rapidly piston into you. “Holy shit—gonna cum again—”
“Damn right, you’re gonna cum.” he mumbles against your clit. “Wanna taste it, baby, cum for me—cum all over my tongue—”
Your peak hits again, this one making you almost see stars when you shut your eyes, and your head drops back as a string of swears leave your lips. You get one good look at the wild, almost awestruck look in Haechan’s eyes as he watches you before your arms give out and you collapse onto the bed, eyes fluttering shut once more.
He withdraws his fingers from you slowly, detaching his lips from your clit with a wet pop, and you can feel him moving to kneel on the bed between your legs, his hands pressing down on either side of your head as he (probably—you wouldn’t know since your eyelids feel too heavy to move) watches you.
“You still with me, baby?” he chuckles, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.
All you can manage is a weak nod, and his responding laugh is smug and dark, prompting you to laboriously open your eyes to look at him. He’s hovering over you, eyes roving over your body and your face with a greedy sort of hunger in his gaze before he sits up, the telltale sound of his pants opening alerting you to what’s to come.
“I’m with you,” you finally answer, voice hoarse and thick with desire, and he grins widely, the smile almost devious as he leans back over you with one hand by your head.
“Good—because we’re not done yet.” he says with an upwards flick of his eyebrows. It’s devastatingly handsome and your core clenches with need as he wets his lips and finishes opening his pants, pushing them down his thighs and pulling his boxers down to let his length spring free.
For a moment, he kneels there, watching you with dark eyes as he pumps his fist up and down his length.
“I wish you could see how pretty you look,” he grunts, leaning back to get a good look at you. “Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”
Your cheeks blaze and you look away, flustered, but he turns your chin so you’re looking at him once more.
“Look at me,” he urges breathlessly. “Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby—think you can do that for me?”
“Uh-huh—”
“Good girl.” he purrs, and the heat in your cheeks returns full force, as well as spreads to your core and inner thighs. “You ready?” he asks, bringing the tip of his length to your entrance. You can feel the thick head of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance, poised to enter at a moment’s notice, and the thought thrills you, making you nod before you even realize what you’re doing.
He pushes into you slowly, making you gasp and push at his stomach. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just big, and you’re not as ready as you thought you were.
“Don’t run from it, baby.” he chuckles, voice throaty and deep as he pushes in more. The arm attached to your hand pressing against him bends and he grins, using the leeway to push in more. You let out a pathetic little moan as he slowly bottoms out in you, and he grins. “That’s right, baby, take it. Feel my cock nice and deep, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding vigorously.
“Fits so nice and perfect—fuck, you feel so good, baby—” he groans before starting to pull out. He thrusts back in with a slow, fluid motion that makes your breath catch in your throat and gives you practically no time to recover, starting to rock his hips in and out with slow, smooth strokes that have your eyes rolling back.
When you cry out weakly and clap a hand over your mouth, he shakes his head with a teasing smile, starting to build up the pace.
“I want to hear you moan.” he urges. When a particularly well-placed thrust makes you whimper again, he frowns at you and yanks your hand from your mouth, pinning it beside your head. “Come on, pretty, you can do better than that.” he coaxes, reaching between you two with his free hand and massaging your clit in little circles that, when combined with his thrusts, make you swear loudly, a moan falling from your lips that makes him grin. “That’s more like it—sound so pretty, baby—”
He builds the pace even more, quick, powerful strokes into you making the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping on skin and the bed shifting fill the room as he effectively fucks you stupid, thoughtless words spilling from your lips.
“Right there—fuck, yes, there—”
“Here?” he teases, pressing down more firmly on your clit, and you nod, proceeding to babble more nonsense. You bite down on your lip, embarrassed by the noises you’re letting out, and he sucks his teeth. “Said I wanna hear you, right? Why are you biting your lip?”
“Too loud—it’s embarrassing,” you whine, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down to kiss you passionately.
“It’s you and me, baby,” he assures you against your lips. “Just you and me. Let me hear you.”
“Fuck, Haechan—please don’t stop—”
“That’s it, talk to me, baby,” he grunts, brows furrowing in concentration as he continues to fuck into you.
“Feels so good—you’re so good to me—”
“That’s right, baby—no one’s better than me—” he pants, and you shake your head in agreement.
“No, just you—”
“This is what you want, right? You don’t want losers like that guy—”
“Shut up about him—”
“You want me,” he asserts, and you nod with a mewl of pleasure. “That’s right, pretty, you’re mine.”
“Yours,” you agree breathlessly, and his responding smile is positively radiant. “You’re—mm—”
“I’m what, hm?” he coaxes, almost as if he knows what you’re about to say.
“You’re mine,” you gasp, and he nods vigorously, grinning from ear to ear.
“This is yours, baby—it’s all yours,” he promises, and you nod back, shallow breaths leaving you with every thrust. “Look at me, pretty girl,” he urges, and when you do, he puckers his lips at you in an air kiss. “What’s my name?”
“Hae—chan,” you whimper, and he beams at you, nodding encouragingly.
“Yes, baby, good girl—who’s doing this to you, hm? Who’s making you feel this good?”
“You, Haechan, you—” You’re sure you’re losing your mind with all the combined pleasure of his fingers, his length, and his words. “Fuck—gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum—”
“I am?” he wonders aloud with a teasing lilt to his voice. “I shouldn’t stop then, huh?”
“No,” you’re quick to reply, shaking your head with tears building in your eyes. The sounds of lovemaking are only getting louder, the soundscape consuming you as you start to succumb to the pleasure. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop—wanna cum so bad, Haechan—”
“Then cum, baby—wanna feel you clench nice and tight around my cock—”
“Cum–ming—I’m cumming—” you whine, fingers clutching at the bed sheets as your orgasm takes over you. Your eyes rolling back into your head and your lids fluttering shut, your back alternates between arching and curling in on itself, your mind on the brink of ecstasy as he brings you to a powerful climax.
“God, baby, you’re sucking my cock in—what a greedy girl,” he teases, but there’s a strain to his voice that lets you know he’s close as well.
“Cum, Haechan—please, wanna feel it, want you to fill me—”
“Shit—” he curses loudly, his head dropping forward as his thrusts slow to a jerky stop before he’s bottoming out in you, balls pressed to your ass as he releases into you, your walls flexing around him rhythmically from the aftershocks of your orgasm. “That’s it, baby, milk my cock just like that—gonna give you every drop—”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble mindlessly. “Want it—give it to me—”
“All yours, baby, all yours,” he promises as his length throbs inside of you. The two of you stay in that position, catching your breath for several moments, before he pulls out of you carefully, making you sigh in disappointment. “Don’t tell me you want more?” he jokes, and you shake your head immediately, certain you can’t handle another orgasm right now.
“No, it just—felt good.” you mumble shyly, and he grins, leaning down to kiss you. This kiss is much sweeter than the previous ones and you can practically feel his satisfaction through the lip lock as he slowly molds his lips with yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a quick taste.
“There’s more where that came from, baby, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” he promises, and you’re surprised that genuine relief fills your insides. “Now—”
“Shut up.”
“But—you don’t even know what I was about to say!”
“I could tell by the tone of your voice,” you reply with a tired but amused smile.
“Oh, yeah? What was I gonna say?”
“Something about that dude.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” you say with a chuckle and a roll of your eyes.
“Was just gonna say he definitely couldn’t do what I just did.”
“Most certainly could not. He couldn’t even dance.” you snicker, and he grins, satisfied with your answer.
“Good. Now that we’ve established that, do you wanna, um, go back?”
“No?” you reply, confused. “Are you crazy?”
“No, just trying to make sure I didn’t literally drag you away from a good time.”
“You didn’t,” you assure him, and he smiles, relieved. “Wanna order, like… room service or something?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” he agrees instantly, flopping down beside you on his stomach. You internally apologize to the room cleaning service for when they have to clean your cum-stained sheets, but thankfully, they’re white, so the evidence of your activities might remain a mystery to anyone beyond your room.
As Haechan starts scrolling through the online menu for room service food, you think back to the possessive behavior he just displayed and realize, to your surprise, you have no qualms about it—hell, you would even encourage it.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” you say, patting the back of his thigh before slowly climbing to your feet. You adjust your top and bra so your breasts aren’t exposed and shuffle to the bathroom, glad Haechan’s too engrossed in reading the food options to notice the way your legs are slightly trembling. When you get in the bathroom, however, you gasp loudly after you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror.
“What?” Haechan calls out, alarmed, and you poke your head out of the bathroom to glower at him.
“Did you have to leave so many marks?” you complain, and he looks up from his phone, looking over the marks left on your neck and chest appreciatively.
“I did, actually.” he replies smugly, and you roll your eyes before shutting the door again before he can see the smile growing on your lips.
“Unbelievable.” you mutter through your smile, inspecting the love bites littered all over your skin. “How the hell am I gonna cover all of these up?”
Even as you tilt your head this way and that to get a good look at the damage Haechan inflicted on your skin, you can’t help but smile as you realize you don’t really mind all that much.
In the morning, you wake up to Haechan draped over you, his arm and leg positioned over your body in such a way that any real attempts to get up would wake him as well.
“Haechan,” you whisper, your morning voice hoarse. He doesn’t move. You try again. “Haechan.”
“Mm?” he grunts, still very much asleep, and you sigh loudly, moving his arm off of you. He whines and pulls you closer, putting his arm back where it was.
“Haechan.” you say, a seriousness to your voice that you know will get through his sleepy brain. Sure enough, his brow furrows as he opens his eyes, squinting at you sleepily. You ignore how delectable he looks right now with mussed up hair and puffy morning lips.
“What?” he groans, burying his face in your neck as he holds onto you.
“You’re breaking the rules.” you point out, flicking at his arm and leg trapping you in place.
“What rules?” he mumbles groggily, and you sigh, trying to hide your amusement and fondness at his sleepy confusion.
“Our rules,” you remind him, and he mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “fuck the rules” before pressing his face into your neck and breathing in deeply. “No cuddling? Remember that?”
He shifts slightly, mumbling much more clearly now. “I’m not cuddling, I’m… huddling for warmth.”
“Haechan.” you say with a sigh, not buying it for a second.
“Mm?” he sounds mildly annoyed now, and you bite back a laugh.
“The heater is literally on, and you’re hot as fuck.”
Even in his half-awake state, the corners of his lips tug into a smirk. “Why, thank you.”
“No, you dolt, I’m talking about body temperature,” you reply with a hint of exasperation. “You’re very warm.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” he mutters, waving you off dismissively. “Just go back to sleep.”
“Not until you release me from your cuddling clutches.”
“Not happening.”
“So you admit you’re cuddling me right now.”
“If I say we’re cuddling,” he says, sounding significantly more awake, and you can’t help but notice that his morning voice is deeply arousing, his timbre significantly lower and deeper and even a bit raspy. “Will you go back to sleep?”
“No! We’re not supposed to do this.” you complain, and he props his head up to regard you with sleepy eyes and a deadpan gaze.
“Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“The cuddling. Am I hurting you?”
“Well—no,” you mumble, and he nods.
“Do you dislike it?” he asks, and you pause. “I asked you a question,” he murmurs, voice still authoritative even in his drowsy state as he squeezes you slightly.
“No,” you admit quietly, and he smiles, pleased.
“Great. Now here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna lay your pretty little head back down and go back to sleep just like this.”
“Am I?”
“I could always fuck you until you pass out.” he offers, and you blink, not expecting that at all. At your stunned silence, he chuckles softly, lifting his head to look at you. “Sound good? Or would you rather go back to sleep on your own?”
“I’ll, um,” you mumble, “I’ll go back to sleep on my own.”
He smiles again, eyes closed as he nods and pats your side in approval. “Good girl. Good night.”
“It’s 9:46am,” you point out, looking over at the clock on the nightstand.
“Time is a social construct. Now go back to sleep and let me hold you, woman.”
“...Fine.” you mutter, settling back down in his arms, and he shifts closer, pecking your neck and up to your cheek slowly.
“Good night, baby,” he says again, and you heave a small little sigh of defeat.
“Good night, Haechan.” you reply, and he hums in satisfaction before laying his head back down and falling back asleep almost instantly.
As you listen to the heater whirring and Haechan’s soft breathing, you can’t help but wonder if he had a point when he sleepily told you, “Fuck the rules.”
Maybe the rules were a bit outdated, anyway, you think as you drift off to sleep, secretly relishing his secure hold and warmth radiating from his body.
“This shit is hard,” Jiwoo complains after her fourth attempt to get the ball in the hole. “How does Tiger Woods do it?”
“It’ll remain a mystery for ages to come,” you sigh. “Whose idea was mini golf, anyway?”
“Mine,” Jihyo says with a frown, and you pause, rethinking your words.
“And what a great idea it was,” you assure her. “It’s fun, conveniently fifteen minutes away from the hotel, and it’s inexpensive! I just think I’d be having more fun if I was, like, good at it, y’know?”
“Want help lining up your shot?” Haechan offers, and you turn back to look at him, rolling your eyes slightly at his suggestively raised eyebrows and playful grin.
“Yeah, actually.” you say, beckoning him closer. He pushes his golf club into Renjun’s unsuspecting arms immediately and makes his way over to you, standing behind you. His hands fall to your hips as he gently moves you into the proper position, and they glide up your sides and down your arms until his hands are clasped over yours.
“Damn, Haechan, way to grope our friend in front of my very eyes.” Mark remarks sarcastically.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Haechan defends himself, huffing under his breath before returning his attention to you. “Plus, you like it, don’t you?” he coos in your ear, and you let out a flustered giggle, squirming away from his lips.
“Shut up,” you mumble with a smile, but it just seems to prove Haechan’s point, the cockiness radiating off of him in waves as he guides your arms to swing the club, the ball rolling down the green path before tipping over the edge and landing in the hole. You beam as you turn around to celebrate with Haechan, his arms already outstretched for a hug. You step into his embrace readily, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding onto him as he sways you both from side to side.
“Not you two dry humping on the mini golf course,” Mark groans, gesturing at you in disbelief. “Have some respect for the Putt Putt Brothers!”
“First of all, how is a hug dry humping?” you start in on Mark, turning around with an accusatory pointed finger at him. “Second of all, that is not the name of this establishment, you nitwit.”
“Hey!” Mark yelps, clutching his chest defensively. “I was joking—”
“You’re joking now that I called you on it, huh?” you counter, raising your eyebrows, and Mark huffs, crossing his arms and muttering something about public indecency and the sanctity of friendships. When you turn back to Haechan, he’s watching you with intense intrigue, an impressed expression on his face. “What?” you ask, voice now devoid of any (playful) edge to it.
“That was pretty hot.” he murmurs, wiggling his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes with a growing bashful smile. “No, really—kinda want you to snap at me like that.”
“Cause me mild to severe annoyance and my wrath is all yours,” you say, patting his chest twice with a playful smile before stepping out of his embrace. You’ve barely made it ten steps into your attempt to catch up to your friends before you whip back around to face Haechan once more. “I’m joking. Please don’t piss me off.”
“I’ll try not to, but… you’re just so hot when you’re irritated.” he says with a shrug and a shameless grin, and you snort in amusement, looking over your shoulder to see that your friends are split between one course away from yours and the rest are at the drink bar, blissfully unaware of what you two are up to.
“That’s an interesting kink of yours,” you muse. “Where’d you pick that up at?”
“Not you kinkshaming me?” he gasps. “And to think I trusted you.”
“Oh, hush. I said it was interesting.”
“Interesting is code for weird.” he says with a frown, and you coo sympathetically, cupping his chin affectionately.
“I just wanna understand it more,” you explain. “Like… a psychoanalysis.”
“You wanna be my shrink?” he asks, eyes wide. “Oh, that’s hot.”
“I swear, you’re getting more fascinating by the minute.” you chuckle in disbelief.
“Can I put my head in your lap and tell you all my troubles while you play with my hair?” he sighs hopefully, and you blink, stunned.
“You think you’re allowed to put your head in the lap of a shrink?”
“Well, no, but you’re not just any shrink, y’know? You’re my sexy shrink.” he says with a suggestive wiggle of his brows, and you exhale loudly through your nose in surprised amusement.
“And what does your sexy shrink do, hm? What’s in the job description?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in sarcastic curiosity.
“You, my sexy shrink, let me put my head in your lap—”
“We got that one.” you interject, but he carries on like you haven’t spoken.
“And play with my hair, and, y’know, if I’m in need of a little… sexual therapy, then you’re there.”
You stare at him blankly. “I can’t believe you really stood there and made that up.”
He shrugs casually. “Off the dome, baby; off the dome.”
“Yeah, a hollow ass dome,” you chuckle, and he gasps.
“Hollow?!” he squawks indignantly, and you nod, grinning gleefully.
You bring a knuckle to his forehead and knock gently. “Thunk, thunk.”
“You’re so mean,” Haechan huffs.
“Yet you’re hard.” you say with a roll of your eyes, but you’re confused when Haechan looks at you with restrained panic. “What is it?”
“You can see it?” he asks worriedly.
You blink in confusion, gaze drifting downwards and—”Haechan, you’re joking.”
“I wish I could joke about this.” he laments, and you start to giggle, clapping a hand over your mouth. “It’s not funny!”
“It very much is funny, actually—you stood here daydreaming about me being your sexy shrink and you popped a boner.” you snicker, and he scowls at you, not a shred of malice in his gaze to back it up.
“Can you stop laughing and help me?” he pleads, and you splutter in confusion.
“And how am I going to help you? I’m not sneaking off with you!” you exclaim in a hushed whisper, and he frowns deeply, eyes pleading with you. “Don’t give me that look.”
“Baby, please?” he mumbles, and you’re ashamed to admit that all your resolve just crumbled at the sound of his voice cracking slightly towards the end.
“Do you guys ever wonder what those two get up to when they disappear?” Mark asks, and there’s a moment of silence.
“Briefly, yeah, but I don’t like to dwell on it,” Renjun answers with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“They’re kinda cute together, no?” Jihyo hums thoughtfully, and Jaemin shrugs.
“Little bit, actually. I have to agree.” Jaemin adds with a wise nod.
“Not to get sentimental, but do you guys remember when we, like, all hung out for the first time?” Jiwoo thinks aloud.
“Because we kept hearing about each other through each other but we’d never had us all together in one room… so Jaemin crashed out and made us hang out.”
“I did not crash out! I just tracked everyone down and made a group chat and guilt tripped all of you into coming.” Jaemin answers defensively.
“Admitting to the guilt tripping years later is wild.” Mark chuckles.
“I’m not ashamed.” Jaemin says with a shrug. “I’d do it again.”
“That’s all well and good, but back to what I was saying,” Jiwoo butts in. “We probably should have anticipated those two disappearing frequently in the future because they kept sneaking off together that day!”
“They really did, didn’t they? There are so many times where they’re just… nowhere to be found.” Jeno remarks curiously.
“It’s their thing,” Jihyo remarks protectively. “Let them do their thing.”
“It’s probably Haechan’s doing,” Jeno muses. “Probably drags the poor girl off to fuck around and do Lord knows what.”
“Oh, please, you know she likes to wander.” Jiwoo points out. “She probably gets restless and starts to roam, and Haechan—”
“Would follow her off a cliff without her even asking.” Renjun chuckles.
“Exactly.” Jaemin agrees. “So it’s both of them.”
“Should we tell them we know?” Mark wonders, and Jihyo rolls her eyes, placing a hand on her hip.
“Let them figure out whatever the hell is going on between them first? Besides, I don’t see the appeal in forcibly bearing witness to their weird little relationship.” she replies, and Mark nods thoughtfully.
“Good point, good point… so we don’t say anything? We just…” Mark trails off.
“Let them do their thing.” Jihyo finishes, and Mark nods with a shrug.
“I guess.”
One rushed and hushed orgasm later, you and Haechan are back on the scene with your friends, all of you laughing at Renjun’s failed attempt to get the ball in the hole while staying under par when you feel a set of eyes on you. Your skin crawls as you look around, finally making eye contact with the guy from the festival from yesterday, and he grins at you, his smile still eerily wide and eager.
“Oh, brother.” you sigh, offering him a tiny, very fake smile before returning your attention to your friends.
“What’s wrong?” Jiwoo asks, stepping closer to you and speaking lowly. “Everything alright?”
“It’s that weirdo from yesterday—Chad.” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. “He’s here.”
“Ew.”
“Right?”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I think he’s coming over here.” she says carefully, and you look around for Haechan instantly, your heart dropping when he’s nowhere in sight.
“I’m gonna disappear for a minute,” you say as surreptitiously as possible, and she nods, squeezing your hand gently.
“Be safe, okay? Anything happens, just scream and we’ll come running.” she promises, and you can’t help but chuckle.
“Will do. Thanks, girl.” you say gratefully, walking off quickly.
“Hey, wait up!” you hear Chad say, and you sigh internally before turning around and looking at him with raised eyebrows. “How are you?” he says when he finally catches up to you.
“I’m alright; you?” you say politely, and he shrugs, flashing that wolfish grin again.
“I’m great now that I’m seeing you.” he replies and you’re sure that would have worked if, say, Haechan had said it, but you find yourself fighting back a grimace.
“Cool.” you say shortly, smiling politely before turning to leave.
“Wait!” he calls out, and you blink hard before turning back around. “I got you a drink.” He thrusts the cup at you, and you eye it suspiciously.
“I’m okay, actually.” you tell him, patting his hand before pushing the cup back at him.
His brows knit together and he shakes his head. “No, really, I insist.”
You contemplate just taking the drink to be polite, but you really don’t like the glint in his eye like he’s planning something, and it gives you a sinking feeling that he may have done something to the drink.
“I’m fine,” you insist. “Really.”
“Come on, I got a drink just for you and you won’t even try it?”
“Listen—Charlie—”
“Chad,” he corrects you, and you pause, nodding.
“My bad. I don’t want the drink. I’m actually, uh, all full of drinks and was heading to the bathroom. So… I’m gonna go do that.” you inform him, and a scowl passes over his face for half a second but you catch it all the same.
“It’ll be waiting for you when you get back,” he says with an unnerving smile, setting it on the countertop by where you’re standing.
“I just said I don’t want it.” you say flatly, losing your patience rapidly.
“And I said it’ll be waiting for you.” he counters, and you raise your eyebrows.
“Yeah, alright.” you mutter, shooting him a passive aggressive thumbs up and a smile that definitely does not reach your eyes. “See ya.”
When you exit the bathroom, you look around to see if Chad is anywhere nearby, and sigh in relief when you see that he’s not.
To your relief, you spot Haechan’s back at the drinks stand and walk over to him. As you do, you pass the drink Chad left for you and promptly smack the cup, knocking it and its contents onto the grass.
“Whoops.” you mumble sarcastically, picking up the cup and tossing it in the nearest garbage before continuing your walk to Haechan. He turns when you call his name, smiling widely as you give him a small wave. “Hey,” you finally say when you make it to him.
“Hey,” he says with a small grin. “You want a drink?”
“Yeah, actually, I’d love one.” you answer, smiling back at him.
“Pick what you want, baby.” he offers, gesturing at the menu. You peruse it carefully and decide to go with a virgin piña colada, telling the bartender your selection. “Good choice,” he praises, and you smile at him warmly.
“Thanks.” you say with a giggle, the smile slipping off your face when you spot Chad off to the side in the distance. He hasn’t seen you just yet, and you’d like to keep it that way. “Hey, Haechan?” you call quietly, tugging at the side of his shirt. He turns around immediately, brows furrowed at the concern in your voice.
“What’s wrong?” he responds, voice low as he scans your face. “You okay?”
“Not really,” you answer honestly, and his brows knit together even more.
“What happened?”
“Remember that guy from yesterday? At the music festival?” you say, and irritation flashes across his face for a moment before it’s gone, his clenched jaw the only reminder that it was there. “Well, he’s here, and he’s bothering me.”
“Where is he?” Haechan says without a moment of hesitation, looking over you and around the course, and you cup his face and turn his head back to face yours.
“I don’t want you to fight him,” you chuckle softly, and he cracks a small smile at your laugh, nodding in understanding. “I need a favor from you.”
“Anything,” he agrees instantly, and you can’t help but laugh again, endeared by how willing he is to help you.
“Can you… pretend to be my boyfriend? So he’ll leave me alone?” you request hopefully, and he nods readily, pausing to think for a moment.
“How far do you want me to go?” he asks curiously, and if you’re not mistaken, there’s excitement creeping into his voice.
“As far as you need to go to sell it.” you answer with a shrug, and he grins.
“Copy that.”
You’re walking to the next course with Haechan several feet behind the rest of your friends, his fingers wrapped around yours protectively, when his grip tightens slightly out of nowhere. When you look around, confused, Haechan moves to stand in front of you, cupping your face and gazing into your eyes.
“He’s right over there,” he murmurs urgently. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he warns you, and you nod, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He leans in and connects your lips in a kiss so casually possessive that it makes your head spin. He clutches at your waist, pulling you up against him as he moves his lips against yours fervently. When you whimper faintly into the kiss, he groans and pulls back ever so slightly, mumbling, “Better keep a handle on those cute little noises before I take you back to the hotel.”
“If that guy sticks around, maybe you should.” you hum invitingly, and he chuckles darkly, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.
“What did I say about tempting me?” he says softly, nose nuzzling against your own. You feel the guy’s eyes on you as he passes by and, as if he can sense it, Haechan pulls you into another kiss, this one markedly more heated and handsy than the first. One hand slides down the small of your back and caresses where your asscheek meets your thigh, his lips parting from yours as he kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking with a hint of possessiveness to his actions. “Mine,” he speaks against your skin, and goosebumps erupt on your arms as you swallow thickly.
There’s no way he said that loudly enough for the guy to hear, and it hits you that he might not have even had the man in mind when he said it, and now hope, along with excitement, blooms in your chest.
“Yeah? Yours?” you ask softly, and he kisses back up to your lips, capturing them in a slow, nasty kiss complete with his tongue pushing into your mouth and stroking at your own. When you gently suck on his tongue, he grunts, the sound filled with surprise and desire as he pulls back slowly to look you in the eyes.
“You’re a tease.” he breathes, a warning undertone to his voice, and you shake your head in disagreement. “No? You’re not? Then what was that just now?”
“That was me telling you,” you say as you pull him closer and bring your lips to his ear, “that I want you to take me back to the hotel room.”
He stiffens in surprise, and pulls back to look at you, searching your face for any signs of a joke. When you nod encouragingly, he grins widely, looping his fingers around yours once more and tugging you towards your friends.
“I don’t feel well,” you lie, frowning at Jihyo. “I wanna go back to the hotel and lie down for a bit.”
“Oh, no,” Jihyo coos, walking over to you and placing the back of her hand to your forehead. “You do feel a little warm,” she remarks worriedly, and you thank Haechan’s kissing skills for the slight feverish effect they’ve had on you. “Are you gonna go alone?” she asks, concerned, and Haechan shakes his head.
“I’m gonna take her back,” he tells her, and she nods, satisfied.
“Okay, well—feel better, babe,” she says sincerely, and you nod, smiling feebly.
“I’ll try.”
As you two walk away and are out of sight of your friends, Haechan slips his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side and kissing your temple.
“You feel a little warm, huh?” he teases. “Maybe you should take some of those clothes off when we get back.”
“Mm, I feel so weak,” you sigh dramatically, looking up at him through your lashes. “Will you help me?”
He stops short, looking at you with incredulity and gradually building delight in his eyes, before stammering, “I—well—yes, hell, yes—how far are we from the hotel? Wanna take an Uber?”
“Yeah,” you hum, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing. “I’m just… so hot.”
“Hell yeah, you are, baby.” he mumbles distractedly as he fumbles his phone out of his pocket and opens the Uber app.
Once the Uber is booked, Haechan sits on a bench on the sidewalk, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you.
It dawns on you several moments later that the guy you’ve been avoiding is probably long gone, and you wonder if Haechan has noticed the same, the male seemingly committed to keeping up the role of your affectionate boyfriend.
You think on it for a moment, pondering how good his arms feel around you and how soft his lips are when he kisses you, and decide two things: one, you won’t remind him just yet, and two, that you hope Haechan never realizes his fake boyfriend duties are (probably) no longer needed.
With this new decision comes a realization: you like Haechan far more than you thought you did in the beginning, and as Haechan nuzzles into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss, you wish he meant it with all the romantic intent and none of the casualness.
Today, the eight of you are at the local Fire Island zoo, walking around the exhibits and you’re having a great time; that is, until you’re stopping in the middle of the path to take a photo of the wildlife, your friends continuing on, and you feel two arms wrapping around your waist from behind and Haechan’s chin on your shoulder.
“Haechan,” you murmur, trying not to draw the attention of your friends a few feet ahead of you.
“Mm, yes?” he hums, nose in your hair by your neck.
“You’re breaking the rules, like, real bad right now.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“And what rule am I guilty of breaking?” he murmurs against your neck, and you squirm, turning around to face him. He never lets go of you, so your turn to face him is more of a shuffle-pivot as you remain trapped in his embrace.
“No PDA!” you remind him in a whisper, and he raises his eyebrows.
“I’m protecting you.” he says into your neck, smiling against your skin, and you whine weakly under your breath, head tilting back subconsciously to allow him better access.
“From what?” you ask, confused.
“That creep from before,” he answers, his grip tightening on you for a second as he recalls the incident. “The one that tried to dance on you and take you home—what if he’s here? Lurking in the shadows?”
You snort in amusement, casting a glance over your shoulder to see that your friends have yet to notice you and Haechan significantly farther behind them. With a small sigh of relief, you turn your head back to face Haechan, who’s since lifted his head from your neck and is now looking down at you intently.
“So your holding onto me and your not-very-subtle neck kisses… are your ways of protecting me?”
“Yes.”
“Even though the creep from yesterday has yet to be seen in this location today?”
“Mhm.”
“And there’s nothing in it for you?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing at all?”
“I’m just doing my due diligence as your appointed fake boyfriend.” he says smoothly, and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. The two of you engage in a brief staredown, where you’re trying to get him to crack and he sticks firmly to his guns. It’s an unshakable conundrum and you realize fairly quickly that he’s not going to break.
“Sure you are.” you say finally with a roll of your eyes.
“Plus,” Haechan says, pulling you a little closer with a sudden tug, “don’t act like you don’t like it.”
“So if this is purely a business transaction—the fulfillment of a contract, so to speak—”
“Uh-huh.”
“You won’t mind if I terminate the deal?” you say with a coy tilt of your head, satisfaction flooding your system when his face falls ever so slightly.
“Uh… but what if he shows up again?”
“We can renegotiate.” you say with a wry smile.
“...Fine.” he grumbles, releasing you, and you smile, pleased with yourself, but inside you’re surprised to find a hint of disappointment at the loss of his touch.
“Good. Now come on, we’re, like, miles behind them.” you urge him, turning to rush through the crowds of people.
Haechan’s hand slips into your own and you look back in surprise to see him smiling innocently at you.
“So we don’t get separated.” he says, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously, looking down at his hand wrapped around yours and up at his guiltless expression and back down at your hands before you sigh in defeat.
“Come on.” you relent, pulling him after you as you speed walk to catch up to your friends.
Haechan seems determined to test you today—whether it’s your patience or your resolve, you have yet to find out, but he is most certainly putting you through a series of trials on this zoo outing. You’re in line for the petting zoo, and you’re minding your business when you feel a hand slip into yours. You look over to see Haechan casually standing next to you, looking around innocently.
“Haechan.” you murmur surreptitiously.
“Yes?”
“Why are you holding my hand?” you ask, continuing as he opens his mouth to speak, “And don’t say it’s so we don’t get separated, because we’re standing still. In line.”
“My hand is cold.” he says, and you turn to look at him, blinking impassively.
“You know I can feel your hand, right?”
“Does it feel good?”
“Ignoring that. Your hand is warm—very warm, actually.” you say flatly.
“It feels cold to me.”
“So you have a fever and should go back to the hotel and rest?” you say, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge.
“No!”
“So you’re fine and your hand is at normal temperature? So you lied? Or did you make a miraculous recovery? Should I call CNN?” you continue, and he glowers at you.
“Can’t I just hold your hand without all the questions?”
“Well, no.” you say, looking at him like he’s dumb. “On account of those rules we set.”
“Rules this, rules that,” Haechan grumbles, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe some rules were meant to be broken.”
“Wh–What?” you say, baffled. “That makes no sense—why would rules be made in the first place if they’re just meant to be broken? They make rules so people don’t break them, you little scoff-law, you.”
“Wasn’t aware I was messing around with a goody two-shoes,” Haechan drawls in response, and you splutter indignantly.
“I’m not a goody two-shoes,” you huff.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” you gripe back, turning on your heel as the line moves up, You move to walk ahead, but Haechan holds on fast to your hand, essentially tethering you to him as you attempt to pull him forward with you and he digs his heels in the sand, so to speak. When you growl to yourself in frustration, he tugs you towards him, your legs giving way to his pulling easily. “What, Haechan?” you complain as you find yourself in his embrace once more.
“You’re not a goody two-shoes, right?” he reminds you, and you furrow your brows in confusion, nodding slowly.
“Right.”
He peeks over your shoulder, presumably to see if your friends are looking, before returning his gaze to you, shooting you a devastatingly handsome playful grin. “So kiss me.”
“What?! No!”
“Why not?”
“Why not? We just established the creep from yesterday isn’t around,” you remind him, “and we ended the fake relationship contract. So are you asking me to kiss you as Haechan, my previously employed fake boyfriend, or Haechan, my friend in public?”
“I’m asking you to kiss me as Haechan, your friend in public who just really wants to kiss you right now.” he murmurs urgently, and you blink in surprise.
“Why?”
“Why not? You look good as hell today, and it’s not a crime to want to kiss a pretty girl.”
“Wh—but—our friends are, like, a handful of feet away!” you protest weakly, and Haechan rolls his eyes exaggeratedly.
“They’re too far ahead in line,” he explains. “They can’t see us back here. But just to be safe,” Haechan says, angling your bodies in such a way that they’re partially concealed by one of the metal pillars holding up the overhead structure above your heads. “Now they definitely can’t see us.” He looks down at you, that frustratingly alluring grin back on his face as he leans closer, invading your space teasingly, before murmuring. “So kiss me.”
You nibble your bottom lip nervously, leaning upwards slightly to peek over his shoulder at your friends. Satisfied when you’re greeted with the sight of their backs completely turned and unaware, you rock back down onto your heels and grip the front of Haechan’s shirt, pulling him down to you for a quick kiss.
He smiles against your lips and tugs you closer, deepening the kiss slightly as he sucks gently at your bottom lip.
When you two part with a muted wet sound, your cheeks are blazing with heat, and Haechan has perhaps the most smug grin you’ve ever seen anyone sport… well, ever.
“Now was that so hard?” he coos, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Let’s go catch up,” he says, releasing your waist but lacing his fingers with yours.
As Haechan leads you to your friends once more, you can’t help but attempt to rationalize the situation, feeling more than a little frustration when all that comes to mind are a slew of questions you don’t know how to answer..
Is he holding your hand and kissing you in public because he likes you, or is he just feeling frisky and affectionate? Is he developing feelings for you, or is he just getting too comfortable? Are the rules you two established actually dumb, or have the circumstances just outgrown them? What exactly even are the circumstances between you and Haechan? Does he have a different perception of what’s going on? Is there something he’s not telling you?
Are you distancing yourself because you’re trying to keep things casual, or do you have feelings for him?
The last question makes you pause, brows knitted together in thought. Do you have feelings for Haechan?
When you truly think about it, you realize that not only do you, not only that you did in the first place, but also that you must have always had feelings for him, because you know good and well you wouldn’t agree to being friends with benefits if you didn’t have an iota of something for him.
Haechan takes you out of your spiral of questions with no answers by gently smoothing out the space between your eyebrows, his hand dropping slightly to caress your cheek.
“You okay?” he asks, concern etched on his handsome features. “Was it too much to ask you to kiss me just now?”
“No,” you assure him. “I’m okay—and it wasn’t too much.”
“You sure?” he presses gently, and you’re not sure which question he’s referring to, but you know you don’t want to answer the first and open that can of worms, so you resort to only addressing the second question.
“It was kinda hot,” you confess, and he raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised and just a bit skeptical.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I kinda like when you make me do stuff.” you admit sheepishly.
Haechan’s lips twitch, the male in front of you fighting back a smile as he continues to watch you suspiciously. “You’re not just saying that to distract me from how you’re feeling?”
You wish for a moment that he wasn’t as perceptive as he is.
“I mean everything I just said,” you assure him, and his lips stretch into a smile.
“I should boss you around more often then, huh?” he says with a flirtatious wiggle of his brows.
“Oh, hush.”
“No, really. Since apparently it gets you all hot and stuff.” he continues, leaning in to murmur in your ear. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
“You are a menace to society, but most importantly, you are a menace to me.” you sigh, and he laughs.
“You signed up for this roller coaster, baby. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
You squint at him. “What cheesy old movie did you steal that from?”
“Hey! That was pretty smooth!”
“If it was smooth—which it wasn’t—it would now be significantly less smooth given the fact that you were trying way too hard to be smooth in the first place.”
“You’re mean.”
“You like it.”
“Yeah, I do.” he sighs dreamily, looking at you with such a tenderness behind his eyes that it almost makes your knees weak. “I really do.”
“I don’t know how to prove it, but I feel like Haechan’s cheating.” Jaemin huffs as the “Perfect Score!” screen appears on Haechan’s playthrough of Michael Jackson: The Experience on the Wii.
“Never that,” Haechan boasts. “I’m just better than you.”
“And so humble, too,” you joke sarcastically, making Jeno snort.
“Hey—when Haechan finishes his power trip, can we play Mario Kart?” Mark asks hopefully, and various utterings of assent sound out from around the room.
“I’m not on a power trip! I’m just insanely skilled at this.” Haechan defends himself, glowering at Mark as “Do You Remember the Time” starts playing. “Now, hush, it’s my encore.”
You watch with fascination as Haechan nails the choreography and are only a little bit surprised when you realize that he looks incredibly attractive right now.
“He’s got a home advantage,” Jaemin gripes, crossing his arms.
You look at him in confusion. “This is my house.”
“No, like, with Michael Jackson; he was probably raised on this game.” Mark sighs.
“I may have played it almost every day after school.” Haechan admits sheepishly, and Jeno, Jaemin, and Mark jeer in distaste.
“Cheater! Yo, get this fool out of here!” Mark complains, and you whack Mark with a nearby pillow, making him splutter and Haechan laugh. His smile is radiant, tanned skin glistening with sweat and hair messy in all the right ways, and you find yourself swooning internally.
“Thanks for having my back,” Haechan says appreciatively, and you nod with a sweet smile.
“Anytime."
As the song ends, Haechan relinquishes the controls to Mark and sits down next to you, breathing heavily. It doesn’t dawn on you that you’re still watching Haechan until he looks over at you and grins flirtatiously, flicking his eyebrows upward as he watches you.
“You like what you see?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and you, in a daze, nod. His eyebrows raise once more in surprise and he slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Do you, now?”
“Careful—” you mumble, and he sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes.
“Who cares?” he murmurs in your ear. “Let them see.”
“No,” you protest weakly, but he shushes you, lips grazing along your ear before sliding down to behind your earlobe.
“Not you two cuddled up on the couch like lovers,” Jihyo calls out from across the room, and you freeze as your friends turn to look at you and Haechan.
“I’m feeling cuddly and she’s right here… perfect for cuddling.” Haechan replies with a shrug and a nuzzle into your neck. “Friends can cuddle.”
“Not like that, they can’t,” Renjun counters, and Haechan glowers at him.
“Just because you don’t like cuddling doesn’t mean it’s unnatural and weird.” he retorts, and you nod in agreement.
“Cuddling never hurt anyone,” you back Haechan up, and Renjun rolls his eyes.
“Great, now they’re on the same side again.” he laments, and Haechan grins at you.
“We make a good team.” he coos at you, and you roll your eyes with a smile, trying to fight down the heat rising to your cheeks.
“Wanna team up again to fight for Chinese food for dinner?” you ask hopefully, and he scans your face slowly before a smile curls his lips.
“I’d be honored.”
Later that evening, you’re in the kitchen washing your dish when you hear familiar footsteps shuffling into the room. You don’t turn to see who it is, your hypothesis proven when Haechan sighs loudly in an obvious attempt to get your attention.
“Yes, Haechan?” you chuckle, and he shuffles closer to you, standing beside you and watching as you wash the bowl in the sink.
“Why’d you leave?” he whines, his arm brushing against yours slightly.
“I had to wash my dish now or I was never going to do it.” you sigh, and he snickers, moving from beside you to stand right behind you.
“Well, are you almost done?” he asks hopefully, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into your neck. “I miss you.” he mumbles against your skin, and the heartfelt words combined with his lips brushing against your neck practically make your knees buckle.
“I mean, I’m rinsing it now,” you say slowly, “so, yes, I’m almost done. And I missed you too.”
“Mm, really?” he muses, pressing a soft kiss to your neck that makes you fight back the urge to squirm, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses another kiss to your neck in the exact same spot.
“Yes, really.” you mumble, trying to control yourself and not make any sort of noise or reaction that could spur him on further or blow your cover.
“Good. You smell really good,” he groans, breathing in deeply against your neck, and you can’t hide the small shiver that travels down your spine. He presses his spit-slicked lips to your neck, parting them to suck gently at the skin as you curl your fingers up in the dish cloth and bite back a whine. “So… fucking good.”
“You’re breaking the ‘no PDA’ rule. Again.” you point out, and he growls under his breath, shaking you slightly.
“No one’s even in here but us, so it’s private, not public. Now, shut up—you know you like it.” he huffs against your neck, leaving wet kisses down from your ear to your shoulder.
“No way you’re trying to have sex right now.” you scoff incredulously.
“I’m truly not,” he promises you. “I just want to be close to you.”
“Oh.” you say softly, his words warming your heart.
“Is that okay with you?” he asks, a hint of sass in his voice.
“Yeah, that’s okay with me.” you agree, and he smiles.
“Great.” he mumbles, sucking and licking at the base of your neck.
You’re so caught up in the mind-reeling sensation of Haechan kissing your neck and his earnest words that send you spiraling with a flurry of questions—like if this is still just something casual to him—that you don’t hear another set of footsteps heading towards the kitchen until Jihyo’s clearing her throat pointedly and you flinch.
Haechan holds onto you still, lips still working away at your neck, as Jihyo raises an eyebrow expectantly and your cheeks blossom with heat.
“You know what?” Jihyo says, leaning against the doorway. “I’m not even mad, because I feel like I knew all along that you two were up to something.”
“Haechan, cut it out,” you whisper insistently. “I’ll be in the living room in a second.”
He sighs and reluctantly detaches himself from you, lips leaving your neck with a wet smacking noise that makes the heat in your face blaze even hotter, before exiting the kitchen with a sheepish grin at Jihyo.
It’s quiet for a moment as you dry your hands off with a paper towel, until Jihyo speaks.
“I really hope you know what you’re doing.” she says gently, and you pause, thinking over your next words carefully before deciding that honesty might just be the best policy.
“Gonna be real with you? I don’t.” you admit. “I’m just in it for the ride; we have fun together.”
Her brows could not possibly be closer to her hairline, skepticism written all over her face before she sighs and shrugs reluctantly. “Copy that, I guess.” She pushes off of the doorway and offers you her hand, jerking her head back towards the living room where you can hear the sounds of laughter and casual chatting. “You coming?”
You smile and take her hand, relieved she decided to let you be. “I’m coming.”
“I landed on your property and you charged me, but she landed on it and you didn’t charge her anything?!” Renjun squawks indignantly when Haechan gives you a pass.
“Well, yes. You’re mean to me.” Haechan responds like it’s obvious, and Renjun grumbles something under his breath about favoritism and unfair advantages.
“Thank you, Haechan,” you say sweetly, and he smiles at you.
“You’re welcome.”
“Okay, my turn!” Jeno exclaims, rolling the dice. He lands an eight and moves eight spaces, landing on a “Go to Jail” space, and groans loudly. “I hate Monopoly.”
“Whose idea was Monopoly, anyway?” Jaemin complains, and Jiwoo raises her hand.
“Monopoly is fun! It brings out everyone’s inner competitive side.” she defends herself, and Jeno rolls his eyes.
“Not too much on Jiwoo,” you say protectively, and she smiles at you gratefully. “Okay, my turn,” you say, rolling the dice. You land a six, and given that you were two spaces ahead of Jeno, you also land on the “Go to Jail” space. “Oh, man.” you say, frowning, and Haechan leans over to you, offering you something you can’t quite see yet.
“I have a ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card if you want it,” he offers, and you smile brightly, taking the card from him.
“Thank you, Haechan,” you coo, and he smiles widely, a hint of a blush appearing on his cheeks.
“That is not how the game is played,” Mark points out, and Haechan waves him off.
“You’re just mad you own no properties.” Haechan teases, and Mark stares at him for a long moment before lunging over the table. Haechan shrieks as Mark shakes him roughly, and you pull Mark off with a poorly restrained laugh.
“No throttling Haechan!” you defend him, and he all but cowers behind you, glaring at Mark.
“You’re lucky your little girlfriend was here to save you.” Mark huffs, and Haechan smiles smugly.
“I sure am,” he coos fondly, and you try to ignore the thrill you feel at being called Haechan’s girlfriend.
You make eye contact with Jihyo, who raises an eyebrow shrewdly, making you do away with the little smile you have in favor of a more neutral expression.
Haechan is anything but subtle, and you’re coming to realize that this arrangement probably won’t be a secret for much longer, making you worry about how your relationship with Haechan might change.
But when his hand finds yours under the table, squeezing gently, you can’t say you mind.
#haechan smut#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#donghyuck smut#donghyeok smut#lee donghyeok smut#lee haechan smut#lee donghyuck smut#haechan x reader#donghyuck x reader#donghyeok x reader
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Moving Forward - End of 2024 Plans
Hello! 👋
I wanted to start this off by and foremost saying thank you so much for the support on the recent Poppy set release. I haven’t seen the community having that much fun with CC in a while and it really means the world to me. 🧡
I’ll try to keep this short and to the point. It’s not bad news, just different.
I've been unemployed for over a year now. August 2023 I finished off my last gig in Animation, and the industry has since taken a giant dive into the toilet. Greenlights are very rare and jobs are even rarer. Boo hoo so sad but what does that mean for CC? Last year I put together a massive game of Clue for Simblreen. I didn’t sleep for 48 hours straight. For Shrimpmas the story was very similar but somehow even worse. And just to put it into optics, I recently spent 3 weeks making the Poppy CAS set. Hours and hours dedicated to getting the meshes and the swatches perfect- and after all the love, all the fantastic amazing lookbooks- I made $7. (And I’m very grateful to those new patrons, and everyone that took the time to play with it, believe me I am! I just want you to understand the kind of numbers we’re working with here.) I don't make a lot of money doing this, I really don't.
TLDR; This has been a very roundabout way to say I’m going to be scaling back this year.
For the rest of the year, I'm going to commit to making things that make me happy, and take a break from things I stress over for absolutely no reason. Simblreen will still be happening, but only for the second weekend, and I’m going to be cutting a lot of stuff I was making for it. Because when I sat down and thought about it, I wasn't making it because I wanted to, I was making it because I felt I had to. In the same vein, as of right now, Shrimpmas is cancelled this year. I’m really sorry about this one. I know it’s a ton of fun, but instead I’ll be focusing on finishing up two large sets and getting them to you in November and December.
I hate going on about this stuff, but I wanted to be clear where I’m at as a creator. Thank you for reading, and I’ll see you soon. 💗
xo, Anne
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The sun's soft rays cling to your skin with their warmth. It's a sunny day. For once in Gotham City, the rain has stopped, and the sun peeks out of the dark grey clouds.
Your loud steps on the concrete path go unnoticed by you. Your attention is completely stolen away by the hundreds of books for sale on the street. The stands are long and covered with old second-hand novels and romances, fantasies, and sci-fis stacked on top of each other.
There's a nostalgic feeling that blooms in your chest when you run your fingers over the covers. It's somehow firm but soft. The dust clings onto the paperback like a blanket. The faint smell of old paper never fails to comfort you.
There it is. A specific, special book you're looking for. The word 'Emma' in a soft rose gold color is embedded on a teal hardback cover. Your hand quickly reaches for it, but you're too late.
A stranger seems to have gotten their hands on it first. You look up, ready to at least try and reason with them about how desperately you need this book. Years of only drowning yourself in Dostoevsky and Wilde seem to dim your outlook on the world. Hopefulness, dropped and discharged–like a lilac-blossom in the garden.
As you open your mouth to speak, no words find their way through. The man in front of you is pretty, very pretty. Beautiful, actually. His eyes are a sea-colored green. Almost teal. Like the book you wanted.
Right, the book. You almost forgot.
He speaks first, "It's a great book. No wonder you want it." The corners of his lips curl up. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless.
You finally gather your wits and speak, "Seems like you've read it already." You try to hide the small feeling of disappointment of not being the first one to get the book, trying to focus on him instead.
"Here," he hands you the book, "seems like you haven't read it. And you should." He chuckles, "if you want, that is." He runs his hands through his hair, and you notice a few white strands.
"Oh–" You grip your jacket closer to you, "thank you so much. Though, I do need to return the favor." You take the book from his hands. Your fingers cross over the rose gold embellishment. "It's my second time reading Austen, actually..." You admit.
He jokingly gasps, "What, seriously? You've been missing out then." His voice is comforting. Not too loud, not too soft. "You seem like a reader, haven't taken your gaze off of any of the books here. And there's a lot of them." He's not asking too many questions, but he's still curious. His smile returns.
You grip the book closer to your chest, "Let's do it like this," you pick another book from the stands, "how do you feel about trying something new? We can trade, sort of?" Your voice trails off, "You have recommended this book to me, so in return, I recommend one to you."
He tilts his head, his teal eyes glancing at the new book in your hands, and then looks at you again. "Alright, I already trust your taste. So, what do you have for me?"
You hand him the book. It's a dark blue paperback. Golden leaves fall in the background. Yellow letters spell "Collage in the Moonlight." He takes it gently and looks it over, fingers grazing the spine.
"I never thought they'd translate it, but here we are." You giggle. "You'll like it." You look back at him. "I mean, I think you will. I'd never give a bad recommendation." You say, your voice filled with a tinge of pride.
He takes the book from your hands, looking it over. You notice just now that he smiles with his eyes. Cute.
"I trust I'm in good hands, then." He replies, "I'm Jason, by the way." A few strands of his hair fall free, framing his face. He can feel the nervousness in his stomach, but it doesn't seem to bother him.
You quickly give him your name, "Though, after I read this and you finish your book, I'd love to hear what you think." Your hands grip the book tighter, you're so nervous. Calm down. "Same place? In a few weeks, maybe?"
"O–oh, I will, I mean." He straightens his posture, "I mean, of course." Jason's cheeks feel a bit warm. Is the weather that warm already?
You give him a small smile before getting ready to leave, "See you soon, Jason."
Jason's eyes trail after you as you leave. He stands there for a while in silence before he realizes he didn't even say goodbye. He mentally scolds himself. Though the giddy feeling that follows after the reminder that he'll see you again here seems to calm him down.
The sun is still out, not yet covered by the clouds.
#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd#jason todd fanfiction#dc x reader#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood#red hood x you#imagines#my writing#can be set in the peccatores universe#they're both idiots#but cute idiots#their trying lol
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start of the week snippit
Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it friends? I have not been able to write for months, but it seems the curse has been temporarily lifted! Thanks to @lynxindisguise for tagging me. <3
I've been workshopping this fic idea since early July, and @imsiriuslyreading's Noah Kahan fest was the perfect excuse to actually put pen to paper, as it were. I've taken the prompt It's been a long year, and all of our book's pages dog-eared from Everywhere, Everything.
Remus is a well known middle-grade author-illustrator. Sirius owns a children's bookstore in the city where Remus grew up, and has just moved back to. This snippit is from their first real date...
"Hey Sirius, dinner's rea—what are you doing?" Sirius looks up from where he's bent over Remus' laptop. A very familiar word doc open in front of him. Remus takes a moment to send a prayer up to whomever is listening that it isn't, somehow, what he thinks it is. Sirius turns to look at him with an expression that betrays nothing. "I thought this was your manuscript for Howling, but Remus...Remus, this is smut." Oh. Okay, it is what he thought. Fuck. "Hey, don't...don't read that! It's private." he stutters, moving awkwardly in and out of the doorway—trying to figure out whether the instinct he should reach for is fight, or more likely, to fly the fuck out of there. Sirius ignores his panic, turning to read aloud from the document. "Sebastian took his throbbing member and shoved it into Gesibel's gaping hole. Remus. Remus, this is terrible." Remus grimaces, "I know, I know I should have said something to you, but it's just a hobby and—" "No, I mean the writing—it's bad. Really bad." a pause, and then, "You're a published author?" Remus scoffs, offended. "Hey, okay, I know it's not Pulitzer Prize winning, but—" "Didn't you win the Governor General's Award for Fiction multiple times?" Sirius interrupts. "Juvenile Fiction, but yes—" "Then why is this so..." He pauses his diatribe, looking thoughtful. "Have you ever even had sex?" "Okay, well, you can fuck right off." "That doesn't sound like a yes..." "Yes, obviously I've had sex, Sirius. Jesus..." "Really? Because based on this, all signs point to no." "I've had sex before." It comes out a tad more petulant than he meant it to, causing the smirk that's been growing on Sirius face to fully bloom. "Mm, I have my doubts." Sirius slowly closes the laptop lid, leaning back on the desk and looking Remus in challenge, "Prove it." "...What?" "You heard me. Prove it. Fuck me."
np tagging: @fruityindividual, @moon-seas, @brigid-faye, @colgatebluemintygel & @spindrifters
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𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬
pairing: draco malfoy x reader
summary: your best friend, draco malfoy, plans a surprise to ask you to the yule ball.
word count: 1.8k
genre: fluff
warnings: none, just soft draco :)
author's note: thank you to the lovely reader who requested this, it's my first request so i really hope i did this justice! also yes, i got a little inspired by that one gilmore girls episode with the 1000 flowers for the proposal lol
➪ masterlist | requests
"Mate, I think you're overthinking this."
Blaise Zabini reported his opinion of the matter, but Draco Malfoy barely comprehended a word he had spoken. The only things on his mind were (Y/N) and of course, the bloody Yule Ball.
If he was honest with himself, Draco was at least partially excited for the dance. He knew it was meant to be one of the greatest nights he may ever experience while at Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure if he would. The dance was only a week away and somehow, Draco found himself without a date.
If anything, the Yule Ball was making him nervous.
"I'm not, Zabini!" He spoke quite loudly, then softened his voice as he realized students had looked their way. "This needs to be perfect, alright? This is (Y/N) we're talking about, you know how I feel about her."
Blaise couldn't help but sigh, with a smile on his lips as the two of them walked to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It was quite a feat for Malfoy to tell Blaise that he had romantic feelings for his best friend, (Y/N). Blaise knew that Draco dreaded being seen as anything but tough to the world, the fact that a girl had this much control over his emotions spoke volumes.
"Exactly my point, Malfoy. She's been your best friend since first year, I doubt she would ever be disappointed or angry with whatever you come up with. Besides, she's just a girl. Just ask her to the ball like how you would ask a girl out on a date."
"Er.. well.." Draco began to speak, the hand that wasn't holding his books scratching the back of his neck. The two of them finally stopped walking besides the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Blaise's eyes widening as he tried to hide his laughter.
"You're telling me that Draco Malfoy has never been on a date before? Merlin!" His laughter echoed down the chamber, earning him a scoff and a playful shove inside the classroom by Draco. "Sorry, sorry. I just thought that with every other girl in this school begging to be your date to the dance, you would've taken at least one of them on a date." His voice was spoken quietly, careful that the other students wouldn't hear their conversation.
Draco shook his head as the two of them sat down in their seats, pulling out their books and parchment. "No. I've turned them all down. They're just not her, know what I mean?"
"You're down bad, mate." Blaise smirked slightly to himself, whispering the only advice he could really offer his friend. "Listen, girls like being asked out in a personal way. You know the kind of things (Y/N) likes, all you have to do is make it special and she'll be swooning."
"Right." Draco mumbled to himself as Professor Moody began to teach his lesson. However, he certainly wasn't thinking about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Instead, Draco glanced over to where you sat across the room. He knew you better than anyone, yet he had no idea how to ask you to the Yule Ball.
That was when the idea struck him. The new bag you bought last week caught his eyes, he noticed the way the bag had intricate floral designs sewn into it. A memory replayed in Draco's mind. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he wrote on a spare piece of parchment, folding it into a paper crane before sending it your way.
Your hands caught the paper crane, grinning as you knew exactly who it was from. You tried to ignore the way your heart seemed to skip a beat each time you saw one fly towards you. On the piece of parchment, it read:
Meet me at the Astronomy Tower tomorrow morning before breakfast? - D.M.
You lifted his gaze to meet his awaiting gray eyes, your head nodding before turning back to the professor's lesson. Draco did the same, but his mind was already running through a mental checklist on all the supplies he had to get to make his idea come to life.
The next morning, you woke up wondering why in Godric's name you decided to meet up with Draco this early in the morning. The sun was just starting to rise outside the window, and none of your other roommates were even awake. You groaned as quietly as you could, practically tiptoeing around the dorm bedroom to avoid waking everyone else.
As you brushed your hair in the girls' lavatory, you felt the butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter around again. You cursed yourself under your breath as you tried your best to focus on your breathing.
Lately, being near Draco Malfoy has always made you more excited than you really ought to be. Of course, he was your best friend so you had always been excited. But now, even one glance at him caused a warmth to glow within your chest. The feeling was a foreign one.
As you walked through the castle towards the Astronomy Tower, that warm feeling in your chest arose again as you caught sight of him. He was pacing near the entrance door, mumbling as if he was rehearsing something. You cleared your throat as you walked towards him, Draco stopping in his tracks.
"(Y/N)." He spoke your name, his lips forming into a soft smile. "Thanks for meeting up with me, I know it's a bit early for you." His tone was playful, he knew you were not much of a morning person.
"About that, why so early in the morning, Malfoy?" You gently shoved his shoulder, he only laughed in response. He opened the Astronomy Tower door entrance, his hand indicating for you to step inside first.
"You will see."
You walked up the long set of stairs up the tower. You couldn't see the fact that Draco was a nervous wreck behind you, his hands having to wipe themselves on his slacks to remove the sweat from his palms. As much as you hated to wake up this early in the morning, you knew the views up from the tower would be gorgeous. Draco knew that the Astronomy Tower was, quite honestly, your favorite place to admire the landscape.
“Oh my..” Your body stopped in its tracks once the two of you reached the highest level of the tower. Your eyes couldn’t take in your surroundings fast enough it seemed.
It was as if every surface of the tower was covered in red roses. Somehow, someone must have placed hundreds of roses in vases, scattering them around almost every corner of the room. The light shining into the tower only amplified their beauty, it was as if each petal seemed to come alive as the sun continued to rise.
“D-Did you know these flowers were here?” You stuttered as you started to pace around the room slowly, your fingertips grazing upon almost every petal there was. Their beauty took your breath away.
“I did.” Draco bit his bottom slightly as he watched you, desperate to know your reaction. He couldn’t tell if you liked or hated them. “They’re for you, actually.”
Your eyes darted from the roses you were admiring to Draco, your body facing his. Although you were truly flattered, the idea of him doing all of this for you made your head spin with so many questions. You knew Draco Malfoy better than he may ever know himself, you had never seen him do anything this nice or extravagant for anyone before.
“You said a couple of weeks ago that you wish spring would come along so you can watch the flowers bloom again. Of course, it’s only December, as we can all see.” Draco answered your question, a slight chuckle falling from his lips as he pointed outside of the tower. More snowflakes began to fall, covering the castle with even more snow.
“So, I thought to bring the flowers to you. And I only assumed you liked roses, from your bag.” His eyes went from watching the snowflakes outside to your bag that was decorated with tiny red roses around it. Since when did Draco notice something so mundane, like a new tote bag?
“I just.. don’t know what to say.” Your voice came out as a whisper. Him decorating the entire Astronomy Tower with roses, just because you said you missed the spring and summer flowers, was entirely insane. You couldn’t come up with the words, so all you could do was step forward to hug him tightly.
Within an instant, you felt Draco’s arms wrap around your waist, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He closed his eyes, smiling softly to himself out of relief and joy. He was relieved and happy that you had liked the surprise, but he knew what he must do, even though it terrified him.
“That’s not the end of the surprise.” He said as he slowly pulled away from the hug. All of a sudden, it was as the boy became aware of every heightened emotion he was feeling. “But I must do this properly..”
Your eyebrows raised as you watched him turn around, picking up one of the red roses from their vases. If you weren’t convinced you were dreaming at the moment, you would have sworn you saw a small bit of sweat on Draco’s forehead as he looked towards you.
“I-er..” He took a step forward towards you, any closer and your bodies would have made contact. With a deep breath to calm himself, he handed the rose to you. “Would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me, as more than just a friend?”
Your lips slightly parted as you took the rose from him. You had slowly been falling for your best friend for the past four years, but you had convinced yourself that the Slytherin Prince would never fall for you. For four years, you had thought that he would never settle for you, when every other girl in this school begged for him just to look their way.
Once you realized you had failed to give an answer, you closed your mouth and smiled in his direction. “I would love to, Draco.” You responded, stepping forward once more to close the gap between you two. You pressed your lips softly to his cheek.
When you pulled away, you realized that Draco’s cheeks were slightly pink as his eyes widened. You couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the sight. Draco Malfoy was notorious for being the calm, collected one of the two of you. Seeing him as, essentially, a nervous wreck over you caused that warmth to be felt in your chest again.
“Who would have thought I could make Draco Malfoy this nervous?” You joked, attempting to calm his apparent nerves.
“Who said I was nervous?” He scoffed just as playfully, grabbing a few more roses to hand to you. You took them in your hands, smelling their pleasant aroma as you followed him back down the staircase.
“Malfoy, you were just as red as these roses.”
#draco#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco malfoy x you#draco x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco x y/n#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco fanfiction#draco malfoy fanfic#draco fanfic#draco malfoy fic#draco fic#draco malfoy imagine#draco imagine#draco lucius malfoy#draco fluff#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy yule ball#draco yule ball
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if you only knew - jeremy swayman
summary: abby shouldn't let her daydreaming get the best of her, but it's not that easy when sway is the one standing in front of you.
song: i can see you by taylor swift
word count: 3.2k
note: this is for The Eras Tour Fic Challenge that was all @comphy-and-cozy's idea, and i'm delighted she let me be part of the process. thank you to @laurenairay for reading this when it was getting started!
hoping to hell that this makes sense, please let me know!
The players filed off the ice at their own pace, some of them off of the ice the very second practice finished while the others hung around for a little extra ice time.
Abby didn’t mind waiting, capturing photos as they passed her that would probably never see the light of day. They were all friendly with her, despite her presence almost guaranteeing a camera being shoved in their face whether it be for a still photo or a TikTok video. Frankly, she didn’t know why they were still happy to see her.
The hulking figure of Jeremy Swayman in his goalie pads stepped towards her, his helmet tucked under his arm and his head tilting as he approached. Abby picked a spot behind him to look at so that she didn’t have to make eye contact.
“No question today?”
“I couldn’t think of one, so just the photos,” she said, smiling as she held up the DSLR to his unsuspecting face and held the trigger for a few seconds. “Logan has one for next practice that I think you’ll like.”
Jeremy didn’t look convinced, shifting from foot to foot—though he barely even seemed to register the camera or the many photos she’d just taken. He suggested, “You should ask us who our favourite social media person is.”
Abby lowered her camera completely, her shoulders sagging a littler. She refuted, “No. That’s mean and I don’t want you guys to all say Logan; I know he’s more fun.”
“Not a chance anyone says Logan over you,” he said emphatically. “Logan would agree it’s you, too, if you asked him.”
“That’s just not true. I’m not asking questions that will hurt someone’s feelings.” Her words were final, and she imagined that the hurt my feelings was implied.
“Fine,” he conceded, though the slight roll of his eyes showed he wasn’t happy about it. He added, “But you do ask better questions. You’re also way hotter than he is.”
Abby rolled her eyes back at him. The beating of her heart became louder in her ears, harder in her chest, despite her desperate attempt at nonchalance when she took the opportunity to greet Pasta as he wandered through the tunnel behind Jeremy.
“I didn’t mean that in an inappropriate way,” Jeremy said, glancing back over his shoulder to watch Pasta leave. “I just—I have eyes, you know? But like… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine,” Abby said, shrugging. “It’s far from the most degrading thing a hockey player has ever said about me.”
Tension suddenly overcame them, and Abby froze in place. She couldn’t work out what she’d said that could have caused the sudden shift between them and found her shoulders curling in to try and get away with it.
“Here?” Jeremy asked after a few, long painful seconds. “One of the boys?”
A loud guffaw left her mouth entirely involuntarily and she gestured back to the ice to ask incredulously, “Those boys? No, they would never. Not where I can hear anyway. Just guys in college.”
The returning question was immediate and gruff: “Where did you go to college?”
“That’s not—Sway.”
Any and all tension dissipated as quickly as it had come, Jeremy somehow standing even taller than he had been, and a broad smile overcoming over his face, “Just making friendly conversation and trying to get to know you, Abs.”
Jeremy’s winks always disarmed her. He dealt them out so freely, so regularly, that she was sure they were just an unconscious behaviour whenever he was coming to or going from a conversation. And yet, even if she didn’t think he meant them, they still rattled her to her core.
In the same way his weeks were unintentional; Abby never meant to watch him for so long as he walked away. If anyone ever caught her—and maybe they had and were too nice to say anything—she wasn’t sure she’d ever get over the embarrassment.
That didn’t stop her, though. She didn’t look away until he was out of sight.
Abby posted up in her usual spot at TD Garden, waiting for the boys to arrive for the game. They were all painfully consistent, so she knew exactly how long she had between arrivals to quickly edit photos and post them in small groups. It was such a to-the-minute routine that she could have done it on autopilot—did do it on autopilot. A lot.
They all filed in as normal, nothing disrupting her routine until Jeremy’s arrival time came. Abby knew his arrival time just as well as she knew anybody else’s, but nervous energy always took over when it came to him.
She had her phone positioned and ready for the next group to come in, filming whether they acknowledged her or pretended she didn’t exist. The younger boys were more likely to say hello, she found, mostly because they’d come into the league when social media was already a big part of it. The older the player was, the more set he was in his routine and superstitions—even if they refused to call them superstitions.
Jeremy was always good for a greeting, oblivious to the damage his smile and wink did to her, but Abby steeled herself for him to step towards her.
She couldn’t have been prepared for the casual speed at which he reached into the inner pocket of his suit and pulled out his phone, holding it up in her direction. The shutter went off and he was walking past her before she could even work out what had happened.
Abby didn’t always stay late after games. She had to stay around for media, but on a normal day she was posting the post-game interviews and promptly jumping on The Orange Line before posting some game recaps from whatever corner of the subway she was crammed into. That all changed when Logan was hanging around and she was able to convince him to drive her home.
While it saved her a sardine packed trip, it did mean she had to hang around longer than she normally would to as he packed away videography equipment. She found herself a chair to sit on in the hallway near the Bruins’ family room, trying to make herself disappear into the brickwork.
It didn’t take long for Abby to run out of things to post, and for her eyes to grow heavy. She still didn’t know exactly what she had to wait for Logan to finish, but the sudden end to her busy day was enough for her body to realise she could relax—normally that end was when she was flopping onto her bed.
The players started to file out, crossing in front of her on their way to their families and their cars. Those she made eye contact with said goodnight, although most of them were on a mission to get out and only had eyes for the exit. She couldn’t blame them.
A shadow appeared over her lap where she’d turned back to her phone to respond to some people on the socials. When Abby looked up, Jeremy was looking down at her with head slightly tilted.
“Why’re you still here?”
His towering figure would never get old. It would have a hold on Abby until the day she died, she was sure of it, especially when he was in his suit.
“Getting a ride home. Would rather sit here than jump on the subway,” she told him, keeping her words and breathing measured. “Something must have happened because Logan’s taking ages.”
“You sure he didn’t forget?” Jeremy asked. “I’ll take you home if you need.”
Multiple things were wrong with that idea—primarily that she was positive that he did not live anywhere remotely close to Roxbury, but also that being alone in space as confined as a car was sure to ruin her life.
Abby assured him, even if she didn’t totally believe it, “He wouldn’t have forgotten. Thanks, though.”
“See you at practice, then. Hope you have something good planned.”
She did, and she would have told him if his wink hadn’t left her speechless.
Jeremy’s retreating figure was still in view when a text came through, Logan telling Abby that he had forgotten he was taking her home and he was already halfway gone. He would come back and get her if needed, but it didn’t take a genius to work out that he was hoping that wasn’t the case. He would have called if it was.
“Sway!” Abby shouted, not allowing any time for another possibility to come to mind.
He stopped instantly, yet his turn back to face her was slow. He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to gather her bag and rush in his direction.
“Can I get that ride, please?”
With a simple nod, he took her camera bag without being asked and led her to the player parking lot.
Even half empty, it was clear to Abby that she didn’t belong. She didn’t even own a car let alone the six figure vehicles she was being confronted with. One of them, if sold, could probably pay off her student debt.
There were many thanks, most embarrassed, while Abby sat in the passenger’s seat and tried not to touch anything except for the chair. Even then she was worried about all the potential damage she could do to the leather.
“Why are you so tense?” Jeremy asked. “Just relax a little.”
His words were accompanied by a large hand on her thigh. In what world that was supposed to relax her, Abby did not know, because even through the denim of her jeans she could feel the warmth and size of his hand. Looking down at it made her dizzy.
There was no way he was oblivious to what he was doing to her, she knew that for certain when she caught the smirk on his face after he finished talking. She didn’t know what he was talking about—it may have been about the game, or it could have been a question about the best way to get to her house. Abby would never be able to repeat what he said because the only thing playing in her mind was the feeling of his hand moving higher and higher up her thigh.
Never before had she wished she lived further away from the arena, but Abby was desperate for it to never end because by the time she could see that they were only a few turns away, Jeremy’s hand was pressing right into the crease of her hip. Squeezing her thighs together was really the only thing she could do because Jeremy was driving, and Abby did want to make it home.
A lot of the wanting to make it home was because she was desperate to find the words to ask him inside.
She didn’t need to find those words, though, because they were stopped on the street, and Jeremy hadn’t even killed the engine before he was asking, “Are you gonna invite me in?”
“Sorry!” a voice called, accompanied by the loud squeak of sneakers on concrete. “One of the cameras was fucking up and it needed—”
“It’s fine, Logan. Let’s just get out of here.”
“Sway’s looking a bit worse than I remember?”
“What? I haven’t noticed anything different.”
“Might want to proofread what you post to Twitter.”
Abby instantly reached into her pocket, her heart racing at the thought of having posted anything to the team socials that wasn’t absolutely perfect. The notifications were more out of control than normal, only adding to the sinking feeling in her stomach.
When she finally looked at the tweets coming from the Bruins’ official account, it was clear what Logan was referencing because staring up at her was a picture of their beloved captain—with Sway being the one mentioned.
She would claim it as a way to boost engagement and vowed to herself that she’d do it a few more times with other players throughout the week. Anything to stop the replies asking if Admin had the hots for Sway.
Finding a coffee shop on the road was something Abby did every road trip; sitting in a hotel room editing photos or TikToks or thinking up (or responding to) tweets was lonely, and sitting in the practice arena of the day was normally too loud to be in for longer than strictly necessary. The coffee shops weren’t always much quieter, but there was at least natural sunlight shining through the windows and some fresh air entering when the door opened.
On a normal day, Abby was able to work uninterrupted. Logan never followed her, just as she never followed him, and she was left to read through the mind-numbing analytics without losing concentration. She could count on one hand the number of times someone she knew had found her hiding spot which is why she was not at all expecting a hotel key and pair of sunglasses to be placed right next to her mouse and for someone to ask her what it was she was drinking.
Looking back over her shoulder, she made eye contact with Jeremy Swayman.
“Do you want one?” he prompted after being met with silence, gesturing to the empty coffee mug.
She considered whether she needed another entire coffee, before conceding, “a flat white with oat milk, please.”
He sat down on the empty stool beside her, pushing his sunglasses out of the way and resting his elbows onto the table. He looked exhausted, which wasn’t a great sign for it only being the middle of the season. Abby never knew what to ask the boys when she wasn’t holding a camera to their faces—not that she was regularly put into a position where she had to make conversation. It was so rare that she was certain that most of them didn’t even know her name. Jeremy didn’t seem bothered by the silence, instead opening up his phone and opening his Messages app with a red notification showing a very high number and responding to a text seemingly at random. Abby went back to her laptop, deciding to take a break from trying to work out what type of content needed to be scrapped in favour of opening up Indeed.
“What’s that website? Is that where people look for jobs?” Jeremy asked, peering over to her screen.
“Uh, yeah, most of the time.”
Her scrolling was half-hearted; it was nothing she hadn’t already seen before, and nothing she hadn’t already compared to what she was currently doing. Or making. The jobs she had the perfect set of skills for were few and far between because people didn’t tend to be leaving sports teams, and she hasn’t quite yet worked out how to transition out of that job yet.
“You want to leave the Bruins?” Jeremy asked after a few minutes of silence, leaning in just a little closer. His presence in her space was always hard to miss, and even more so when he was actively moving closer.
“No, not really. I’m just seeing what’s out there.”
“But what’s the point if you don’t want to leave?”
“You went to college; you have to have some understanding of what it’s like in the real world.” Abby, picking up on the ever so slight shrug in his shoulders, and the hint of embarrassment, continued in a gentler tone, “I have to check the market. It’s to see if there are similar jobs paying more, or if there’s a really good opportunity out there to get into marketing or something.”
“Check the market? Like testing it in free agency?”
“Yeah,” Abby nodded. “Except I don’t have an agent. I just have to do it myself.”
“Sounds really boring.”
“Boring and exhausting,” she admitted. “But hardly anybody gets any career progression by staying in the same job. I will have to leave the Bruins at some point.”
Jeremy’s eyebrows pulled together in the middle, but he nodded like he understood—Abby wasn’t wholly convinced that he did.
With his pre-game nap calling, Jeremy didn’t stay for much longer. He apologised for annoying her, and she hastily assured him that she was always happy to talk to him and left her with another coffee that he ordered for her on his way out.
He was long gone by the time Abby noticed a piece of paper he’d left behind where his hotel key had been. She lifted and flipped it to see it was important, expecting it to be the sleeve they were all given with their room keys, and did a double take when she saw something hastily handwritten instead of the hotel logo.
Room 914. See you soon.
A warmth that could only be brought on by Jeremy rose in Abby’s cheeks. She slammed her laptop shut, held her bag beside the table and swiped all of her belongings into it. It wasn’t anything she had expected, especially on the day of a game when she knew how specific a goalie’s routine was, but she wasn’t going to ignore such an obvious invitation.
The café was, thankfully, closer to the hotel than almost any other she’d found in other cities, so it was a short, fast-paced walk back. Her focus was so intense that she would have stepped out in front of a car if it weren’t for a woman grabbing her by the wrist to keep her on the sidewalk. It wasn’t one of Abby’s proudest moments, certainly, but she was on a mission and needed to make sure she was able to reach her destination before the rules changed.
Nobody else was in the lobby, that Abby noticed anyway, and her ride to the ninth floor was unimpeded—which was for the best because there was no way she would have been able to hold an intelligent, or intelligible, conversation had anybody tried.
Jeremy must have been waiting at the door with how fast he answered it after Abby’s first and only knock. He pulled her inside quickly, the door shutting heavily behind them as he crowded her against the door. She dropped her bag to the floor, the thud only causing a slight concern about her laptop, before his hands were curling into her hair and his mouth was drawing closer.
“Don’t leave,” he said, his breath moving over her lips. “Don’t find a new job.”
Abby wrapped her arms around his neck to stop herself from melting to the floor. She pressed her mouth to his, a silent promise that she wouldn’t go anywhere if he didn’t want her to.
His knee moved between her thighs, helping to keep her lift her further off the ground—closer to him—and added friction it gave to her jeans caused a breathy moan to leave her mouth.
“Are you done here?”
Abby looked up over the laptop screen she’d been staring at blankly, making eye contact with the aggressively raised eyebrow of the waiter and nodding sheepishly before slamming her laptop shut and leaving the café before anybody could read her mind.
#jeremy swayman fic#jeremy swayman imagine#nhl fic#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#hockey fic#homemade fic
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hey ml, could i request a lee know x 9th member reader? they’re secretly fucking and the boys don’t know until they accidentally walk in on them.. 🫶🏻 (i love your work btw!!)
Hi! first of all thank you so much for liking my work, that means so much to me! & second of all I'm so sorry I've taken so long to publish your request, thank you for being patient<3
LOOOVEE this concept so much so thank you for suggesting it!
I hope this is up to your standards since you've been waiting WEEKS for it! feel free to anon me your thoughts.
Word count;2,839
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
18+, MDNI SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT
main masterlist here
SMUT WARNINGS: Slight sub/dom dynamics, first time fucking, soft sex tbh, sloppy oral(m rec), praise, pet names, slightly public sex(in a shared dorm), manhandling if you squint a whole lot, unprotected sex, blueballs(SORRYY LEEKNOW MY BABY), getting caught, fluffffffff, 9th member reader, mention of past encounters with leeknow.
Saying you were nervous when JYP told you you would be debuting with a boy group instead of the trainees you had been with for the past few years was a serious understatement, but it is now the best thing that has ever happened to you.
You help out a lot when it comes to producing and writing so you spend a lot of time with 3racha which is no surprise, you love the three guys with your entire heart but you can get quite antsy after a while, seeing since there's not as much time being spent with the other members, specifically the main dancer of the group, lee-know.
Because leeknow is an introvert, just like you, it took you both a while to actually warm up to one another and it doesn't help much that you're never having the chance to speak to him one-on-one conversations with him, always having at least one or two other members with you both, until one specific night that would end up secretly making lee-know and you each others favourite members.
You and the group have been practicing new choreographies for your new comeback and the members start saying their goodnights one by one as they leave the room, until an hour later it's just you and leeknow left still practicing. It's not awkward between you and him by any means so you both keep practicing and talking, just messing around. Your shoulders start getting painful and you complain and leeknow offers you a massage which you gladly accept and that's where and when your crush on each other started.
Over the space of a few weeks, you both felt the connection and crush on one another grew, purposely leaving the areas you're both working at to meet at the water dispensers in the building or walking to vending machines just to seek a glance at each other. After a few weeks of doing this, you were helping and recording leeknows parts for a song and then you called him out of the booth once you were satisfied with it and let him listen. As he is doing this, he is standing behind you, leaning down and his hands on either side of the desk, caging you in, making you swallow in your chest. One compliment of his hands leads to him allowing you to touch them, leading to him complimenting you back, leading to you both saying this is wrong because you work together then somehow that leads to you both making out.
You are both in your dorm right now, the one you are sharing with Jeongin, Seungmin and Felix, with leeknow, currently making out with him, something you don't have a lot of chances to do due to your schedule & also trying to hide it.
He is nibbling on your bottom lip every once in a while as his veiny hand is resting on your cheek, thumb caressing it as you're beneath him, hands cupping the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Without realising it, your hips stutter slightly into his thigh, that is currently in between your legs. You feel your cheeks going hot instantly but you could swear you felt him smirk into your lips, so you repeat the action a few more times, trying to make it seem not so painfully obvious how desperate you secretly are. Leeknow pulls away his lips with a quiet pop noise but doesn't move away, just looking into your eyes instead. Your cheeks redden & you try to pull him back to your lip but he doesn't budge, making you shy away, slightly embarrassed. "be careful with what you're doing y/n" he hushes to you in a quiet, sweet voice, his ears red at the tips. "Yea, I'm sorry, was just, aah i don't know" you blush, turning your head to the side to try avoid his gaze but is quickly to paw at your face to get you to turn back. "you're horny? is that it?" he teases, already knowing the answer. "Don't speak like that! makes me shy" you let out a nervous giggle as you try to sit up, but leeknow is quick to stop that from happening, keeping you beneath him. "I wouldn't complain bunny, you can tell me, mkayyy? We just need to be.. careful, giving our situation." He strokes your hair, his face not giving much of what he is thinking away, making you a bit confused on what's going on. "Stooop, you're just confusing me." you play with his hair that is in front of his face, twirling it in your fingers, trying to not seem awkward.
He moves off of you but you're quickly being pulled by him so you're now straddling him which is a first for you both. Your heart is beating in your throat & your face gives it away instantly, which leeknow laughs at. "I'm saying, i'd be happy to help you, we both know how to keep secrets after all, don't we?" he questions, looking up at you as his hands find your waist and squeeze slightly, his face as if he is just talking about what he had for breakfast. You smile at his words, getting goose bumps from his hands on you but melting into them regardless. "I won't tell if you don't" you tease back, trying to sound bold and he smirks at you before pulling you in to kiss you again.
The kiss is quite soft but it only takes a few seconds before his tongue is poking at your lips and you gladly allow it inside, you now both tasting each other. He begins to move your hips against his and your breath stutters, liking the feeling but you begin feeling him growing beneath you as you're grinding against him even more. Your hand reaches down and begins palming the area of his hardening cock still covered by his sweatpants making him let out a small, low sigh which makes you pool in your panties.
Leeknow begins making his way down your jawline and then neck, giving it small kisses but making sure to not leave any marks, knowing it would be impossible to explain it to the other members and also the makeup artists who will need to cover it up. You let out small hums of approval as he is kissing the parts of your collarbone that he can reach while your shirt is still on, palming him a bit quicker and with a bit more pressure. "are you sure you wanna do this leeknow? I don't want this to mess anything up." you mumble out, trying to hold your moans back enough so your words don't splurge out. He lets go of your collarbone & look in your eyes, grinding ever so slightly into your hand. "It was messed up the second we kissed, jagi. We can stop if you want, no questions asked, but for some weird reason, i'm getting the feeling you want this too?" He says, sarcastically as one hand is still resting on your waist as the other is playing with the hem of your vest top. You take a deep breath in, smiling at his words before kissing him again with much more lust in the way your lips are moving together, already knowing the answer to what he said.
Your eyebrows furrow as he leans further back into the couch, your lips chasing him and in the process, your clothed cunt is now right on top of his clothed cock. Leeknow takes this chance to pull off your top, leaving you in a casual bra, not thinking this would happen so you didn't come more prepared. Your lips are interlocked again the second it comes off as your hands snake themselves under his shirt, making him hiss as your hands are a bit cold.
You break the kiss, both of your lips a darkened red colour now, swollen from the nibbles you have been given each other, looking glossy from the spit of your tongues tasting the other. He tries to keep you held against him but you move anyway and settle on your knees, untying his drawstrings, biting your bottom lip from the nerves, not looking at his face directly for more than a few seconds at a time.
"Y/n, should we go to your room? wouldn't want anyone to come back." He asks, putting his hand through your hair as he lifts his hips, helping you pull his sweatpants down, not actually caring about where you both are, just asking to make you feel more comfortable. "you gonna waddle to my room with your sweatpants at you knees? It's fine anyway, nobody's due to be back here for still quite a while, Felix made my room a bombsite earlier anyways." You joke, trying to calm your nerves as you see how big he is just underneath his underwear. He laughs a bit at your words and rests one hand on his stomach as he uses the other one to hold his hand over yours. "Mkay hunny, you just gonna stare at it or what, hmm?" He asks so casually, you would believe he wasn't affected at the situation if it wasn't for his bright red ears giving it away.
You let out a hum as you spit on his tip over his underwear, just to tease him and it works as he mewles under his breath, hips twitching. You pull down his boxers, just enough to let his cock spring free, hitting his stomach over his shirt which he quickly throws to the side after taking it off. You take it and you look at it, admiring how a guys dick can be pretty, also admiring how big he actually is. You begin kissing the tip softly, letting some drool land on his tip ever so often. "please, put it in jagi, pretty please." He groans out, trying to sound normal but it coming out more whiney than anything. You giggle before doing what he requested, licking the underside slowly, circling the sweet spot at the bottom of his tip which makes his hips stutter again, making you pull away. "Don't rush, keep your hips down." you innocently smile at him, looking like a sight for sore eyes in front of him. He just nods his head and swallows, not wanting to ruin it.
You put the tip in your mouth and swirl your tongue around, making him gasp, which is music to your ears. You begin sucking deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you start bobbing your head, using your hand to jerk off the part you can't yet reach in the same rhythm, humming around him, tasting a faint taste of precum. "F-fucck bunny, f--feels so good, holy shit, make sure there's plenty of spit, lo-love that." he groans, eyes trying their hardest to not roll into the back of his head as he is looking at you, head resting on his arm behind his head as the other is holding your hair in a ragged ponytail, holding it out of your face.
You let go of his cock with a loud pop before gurgling the spit that has formed while sucking and you spit it all back onto his dick, soaking it even more than it already is. You take it back in your mouth and within a few seconds of you jerking him at the base and hollowing your cheeks as much as you can along with the wet noises you're making, Leeknow is pulling you off him by the hair as gently as possible, his chest moving quickly and his face flushed, pretty much gasping.
"was g'na cum, w-wanted to put it inside, may-maybe? If not that's fine" he says, voice higher pitched and his tone of voice a lot more unsure sounding, sounding unsure. You lean in and kiss the tip of his nose and nod your head and a few seconds later, you're lying on the couch, on your back as he helps take off your bottoms and underwear with it, leaving you in just your bra and leeknow in between your legs, pushing them back so you can hold them. "You got a condom bunny?" he questions, eyes basically shining with adoration of what he is seeing, jerking slowly. "I'm on the pill and I'm clean, I'm assuming we both are, we are too busy to fuck anyone." you joke, feeling so comfortable in front of him despite being naked, your heart fluttering as he smiles. "Yeah, i'm clean. Ima push in now, you sure?" He asks in a loving voice, other hand caressing the back of your thigh.
You nod and that's as much confirmation he needs and he aligns himself up with you and begins pushing inside. You both gasp and shudder as he buries himself to the hilt and he reaches and takes your hand in his as he begins slowly thrusting. The dorm is filled with quiet moans, oo's and aah's from the both of you, looking into each others eyes. "f-feels so good, so b-good" you whine, words not making much sense as they vomit out of you. Leeknow blushes at your words and leans forward, not stopping his thrusts for a second. He reaches your lips and pecks your cheek, the sweat from his face now in his hair, sticking to his forehead. "You l-look so pretty like this, so pretty. So w-wet for me jagi, so good." You get butterflies in your stomach, feeling your heart getting warm.
Your arms wrap around the back of his neck and your lips connect again, whining into each other. You start to feel yourself bubbling up inside and Leeknows moans and shushed whimpers are just pushing you even further towards it. Your legs begin to feel like jelly as you are both meeting each other midway, thrusting into one another when the front door to the dorm opens.
You and Leeknow freeze as Felix and Seungmin walk inside, shrieking as they see what is happening on the shared couch. "I knew it Seungmin i fucking told you dance has been different because of them, the tension was right! This is our couch too what the fuck! do it in your damn room!" Felix yelps, swivelling around so his back is to you both, who are both still frozen in shock but luckily for you, they can only see your legs that are hanging against Leeknows waist and seeing his head, that is now poking up, looking at them both like a deer in headlights. "We are gonna pretend we didn't fucking see this, scrub the damn couch, we will ask questions later, get dressed!!" Seungmin says, jaw on the floor. Seungmin drags them both into Seungmin and Jeongins room and slams the door behind them.
You and Leeknow look at each other for a minute, not even saying anything. "I can't believe i just got blueballed by Seungmin and the one person who is gonna be a blabbermouth." Leeknow jokes before pulling out, way softer than he was. You giggle as you sit up next to him as he leans in and cuddles into you and you nuzzle your face in his neck. "what do we even say to them and no doubt the rest of the group?" you whisper, giving his neck a few pecks. "well we can either deny it and make them sound crazy and stop seeing each other or we could just.. fess up? We can.. do what ever one you prefer." He says sounding a bit defeated. You remove yourself from his neck and look at him, his face looking a bit bummed out, even though he's trying not to show it. You turn his head to look at you and you smile at him "I.. I would be lying if I said I wanted to stop, I would be lying if I said I haven't developed a mini crush on you, If you think it's easier to stop it all though, we totally can! no pressure!"
You begin looking at the floor, thinking you just ruined it and being embarrassed. The silence fills the room and you sigh before leaning down to gather your clothes but he gives you his shirt instead. "I thought the crush was one sided, thank god. I've been too nervous to fess up" he chuckles slightly, you both blushing as he hugs you again, kissing your head. "We can discuss this a whole lot more while we aren't naked, in your dorm livingroom as our members are down the hall though, mkay? We can mayybee go out on a date after we tell JYP and speak about it then, sound good?" He jokes again, smiling at you. "I guess that would be good" you say, joking back as you push his sweaty hair out of hi face. He begins reaching out for the clothes sprawled out on the floor, Him helping you get changed.
#skz smut#stray kids#lee know#leeknow x reader#skz#stray kids smut#kpop smut#leeknow smut#oneshot#anon ask#changbin#jeongin#seungmin#bang chan#han jisung#felix#hyunjin#kpop imagines#kpop#straykids
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Hi!! Oh my gosh seeing you posting again was such a huge joy and surprise for me I’m so glad to read your new work!!!
I was wondering if you could write a wanda maximoff x fem!reader ABO fic where either Wanda or reader are new to the team with a whole bunch of pining where they eventually figure out that they are each others mate? You can make either Wanda or reader alpha/omega!
It’s super okay if you aren’t feeling this request, either way I’m so excited to read more of the amazing work you share with us!!!
Hiiiii! So I got super carried away with this and I originally intended for this to be mean emo Wanda but sweet soft Wanda took over, I hope you enjoy! 💗
Pairing: alphag!p Wanda x omega fem! spyReader
Warning: Sickeningly Sweet, 18+ MINOR DNI NSFW NSFW
AN: Wanda 🥰
You'd only been on the team for a year when the mess with Ultron happened. It all happened so fast, you could barely process everything happening around you before something new would arise. Sitting across from Natasha sipping coffee as you spied on the twin alphas you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks. Natasha kept glancing their way while your focus stayed on her, two people staring was more suspicious than one. You and the red head proved to be a good team over the past year. Two omega spies flying under everyones radar. The world still assumed the Black Widow a one woman show and no one would ever believe her to be an omega. The breeze felt nice on your back, bringing a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before looking down at your coffee.
"This has been a real shit show eh?"
Your voice held a familiar accent one you'd grown used to using under your many aliases. Natasha's eyes returned to you as she sipped her own drink.
"Not anymore than usual."
You hummed in response eyes wondering to the innocent civilians around you. Sipping your own cup you wonder if life would be better among them. Oblivious to the realities of the world to caught up in your own day to day menial task. The weight of this job seemed to weigh a bit heavier on your shoulders everyday, the question of wether the people you save amounts to the people you don't plaguing.
"S toboy vse v poryadke?" (Are you alright?)
The red head ask and you nod eyes returning to hers.
"Tired, it seems everytime we try to relax something detrimental in the world happens. I wonder what it would do without us."
A small chuckle escapes Natasha despite the truth in your words, her eyes shooting to the pair on her right once more. Though not a 'graduate' of the red room you hold your own tramatic story. Experimented on in the basement of Oscorp for years you'd been turned into a lab rat by the corpo bastards that owned the building. You'd escaped only three years ago, changed. Transformed into a human machiene, non-aging, ridiculously strong with a sirens song. You did the only thing you could and played the cards you were delt. Seducing mediocre alphas out of millions before any one even got a whiff of your existence but you could truly only thank Natasha for that. It wasn't until Natasha was taken down but the Black Widow kept striking that shield realized there was more than met the eye. It was Tony himself that went undercover to catch you and honestly had he not been an Avenger with intel he would of ended up caught himself. Another rich egotistical alpha who thought himself on top of the world. You didn't go down easy and spent a week in a cell before even uttering a word. In retrospect it all seems silly now you often think about how much time you wasted fighting the people who wanted nothing more than to help you. Eyes lifting to Natasha's face you can't help but feel greatful for the opportunity she's given you to help others like you.
"They're on the move."
You hum in acknowledgment before finishing off your drink mind finally wondering to the matter at hand. Your mission was recruitment nothing more. Ultron having been made unreasonably strong by the twins he somehow came to be in alliance with. You'd gained enough information merely listening in on their conversation, so you and Natasha retreated returning to the group in order to solidify your advances. Standing in time with Natasha you link your arm in hers smiling before chatting away about absolutely nothing in russian. Missing the way a certain alpha glanced your way when your scent drifted down wind. It only took twenty four hours for everything to go to shit almost a record breaker in your books. Ultron whineded up to be nothing after the male alpha was nere fatally injured the red headed woman taking care of him like clockwork. Luckily your team stood nearby able to quickly extract the alpha towards safety and medical attention. You worked efficiently getting him secured before moving to help the rest of your team fight off Ultron's bots and it isn't until the end when you stand with the support of Thor that you realize the red headed alpha had come with you. Returning to the compound there is tension on the quinjet. The group unsure what to do with the twin alphas who quite literally just tried to murder them and it causes you to roll your eyes.
"You could at least not talk about them as if they aren't right there."
You scold before moving towards the pair. The red head having been unmoving crouched over her unconscious brother.
"Privet." (Hello.)
You say making yourself known as you approach the alpha causing her to glance up at you.
"On dolzhen polnost'yu vyzdorovet'." (He should make a full recovery.)
You speak in a whisper trying to be soft.
"YA uveren, chto on ne khotel by, chtoby vy bespokoilis'." (I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry.)
The woman merely returns her eyes to the unconscious man below her.
"Will you lock us up? Treat us once again like dogs?"
Your eyebrows raise and your posture straightens.
"No of course not, everyone deserves a second chance. You believed you were fighting for the right thing, there are many on this team who have been in a similar circumstance. Do not believe simply because we are labeled supergeroi that none of us have a dark past." (Superheroes)
With that you take your leave allowing the woman to be with her loved one. Upon returning to the compound you go into seclusion, you needed a break both mentally and physically. Just a few days where the world wasn't ending and it was entirely up to you to save it. Six days later you emerge slightly re-energized and fresh ready for the next catastrophe. The first place you visit is the gym already hearing Natasha's scolding on breaking your routine as you pass the common room you see the two twins on the couch alone. In this light you see them both clearly, while they hold the title twin they couldn't look more different. You study them both your eyes lingering on the red head. She was an attractive alpha, very attractive. You hear the tv playing but don't recognize the program they have on. Detouring into the room you catch their attention waving as you approach.
"Hello, I am rather embarrassed to say we never formally met. I am (Y/N) nice to meet you both."
You bow your head in greeting sending them a bright smile and both of them seem to freeze obviously caught off guard by your friendly approach. The male recovers first standing up before bowing his head back and sticking out his hand.
"Pietro, and that is my sestra Wanda."
You recognize his accent reaching to grip his hand in yours.
"A pleasure, I hope you two are adjusting well."
It isn't until then his sister jumps up a slight flush on her cheeks.
"It has been familiar, we are rather alienated but that is how it has always been."
You hum in response fighting back the disappointment in your expression.
"Don't fret, we are a group of antisocial extroverts forced to be in a group setting. Well expect for Tony but it just takes us all time to engage and meet new people, they will come around before long."
You finish with a smile.
"Have you two at least been taken care of? Food, water, lodging?"
They nod simultaneously and its enough for you.
"Good well I'm off to the gym, don't be strangers."
With that you leave not taking note of the full face flush on the woman's face.
"Kto-nibud' nashel svoyu sestru-omegu?" (Has someone found their omega sister?)
Pietro says in a teasing tone and Wanda punches him in the shoulder muttering at him to shut up. The moment you cross the threshold of the gym you flinch.
"Nu posmotrite, kto eto." (Well look who it is.)
"Can we skip past the part where you scold me so I can just apologize?"
You ask turning to meet Natasha's sharp gaze.
"Will your muscles magically regain their mass?"
"No."
You sigh accepting your defeat beginning to stretch as Natasha begins her speech on commitment. It is another four days before everyone finally comes around to the twins slotting them in as if theyed been there since the beginning just as they had you. Walking towards the gym you release a content sigh, a full ten days since the world seemed as though it'd collapse. What bliss. Quickly looking up your eyes fantically search for some wood unwilling to risk jinxing yourself.
"Dobroye utro." (Good morning.")
You hear from behind turning to be greeted by Wanda.
"Good morning indeed. Off for your morning cuppa are you?"
You ask and Wanda merely nods in response fighting back a yawn.
"Not a morning person?"
You ask with a smile walking beside Wanda.
"Not at all."
She says somewhat grumpily.
"Then what are you doing up at six a.m?"
You ask with a laugh and Wanda has to fight back a blush. She couldn't admit that she woke up at this time merely to see you every morning but what could she say.
"I like to cook but I'm not very good at it.... so I practice early before the others wake up."
The words spill out of her mouth quickly unable to think of anything better and you beam your white smile at her.
"Well how about tomorrow you sleep in till eight then I can help you learn, I am an amazing cook. I even know how to make some traditional dishes."
Wanda can't help the flush that comes to her face this time and it makes you feel a tingle inside.
"Okay."
The red head responds and you nod giving her arm a little reassuring squeeze as you come upon the kitchen.
"Good luck dorogoy." (Dear)
You say before continuing onto the gym and Wanda is sure her face matches her hair. Sure enough the next morning Wanda doesn't head towards the kitchen instead she spends the morning pacing her room anxiety ridden. You'd said for her to sleep in but how could she when you agreed to spend alone time with her. She couldn't tell Pietro and deal with his repeated teasing so she kept the information in slowly but surely having a meltdown. As she paced she played with her hair, bit her finger, twiddled her thumbs. God she couldn't do this. She'd literally been an experiment for Hydra and never felt this nervous in her life. The time passed quickly. To quickly. Right as she truly began to spiral there was a knock at her door, eyes shooting to the clock she realizes its already eight o'clock. Brushing off her clothes quickly before taking a few deep breaths and recuperating she opens her door. The moment her eyes land on you it all seems for naught, your hair is tied back. You wear tights and a tshirt covered by an apron. Your eyes spakle matched by your bright smile and Wanda feels herself melt a bit.
"I figured you'd meet me in the kukhnya." (Kitchen)
You say with a giggle and Wanda becomes a tomato realizing its not only eight but eight eleven.
"I'm sorry I slept in and lost all track of time."
You hum with a smile clearly not mad at all before turning to be on your way.
"All is fine I just didn't want to start without you."
Wanda follows behind you closing her door quickly. Her eyes wonder your body not being able to help staring at your ass.
"Ty slushayesh'?" (Are you listening?)
Wanda's eyes shoot up attention back on your voice.
"I asked what your favorite dish is."
"Oh um I love traditional pirozhki, my mother used to make them just slightly burnt at the edges. The taste reminds me of home."
You turn and smile softly her way.
"Perfect then that's what we will make, cooking can seem overwhelming but it isn't as scary as many think. I always recommend learning to cook for yourself first because it is much easier than cooking for others."
In the kitchen you gather the suppiles, you cooked often so the ingredients for this dish were easily found.
"I'll have you make the dough, it is all simply measurements so I'll do no more than verbal instructions."
You say as you prepare the area for Wanda.
"Here put this on, gotta protect your clothes and tie your hair back no one wants hair in their food."
Handing the apron to Wanda while standing by waiting. You bite your lip as you watch her. Running her fingers through silky red locks before pulling it up exposing her neck to you. She wore grey sweatpants and a baggy t. The sweatpants doing little to hide the member between her legs and you press your thighs together pleasurably. Wanda on the other hand was trying to think about how to see this lie through. She was an amazing cook, taking the responsibility of her brother from a young age. How was she going to play clueless. She should of at least said a dish she truly wasn't aware of how to make but when you asked her favortie food she couldn't help but answer honestly. You talked Wanda through the steps praising her for being a natural when the dough came out well. Leaving it to make the filling.
"What did your mom fill hers with? I do a simple meat and rice mixture since it goes along with my bulk."
Wanda nods along as she listens debating a moment before responding.
"Lets make them like yours, I've never had them any other way and I'd be eager to try."
You smile brightly at the alpha before nodding in response. Again you talk her through it always believing hands on with clear instruction was the best way to learn any skill. It gave the student mutiple ways to intake the information and made it harder to forget. Once the process is complete you help Wanda cut and stuff the dough, this part of the process being the longest and most tedious. You leave her to fry them as she likes since she'd mentioned her mom let them cook a bit longer and instead move to clean around her. Never a fan of a messy workspace. You hum as you clean, mindlessly really. It seems a tune that always floats around you. One Wanda is sure she's heard you hum before. By the time Wanda is done cooking you've cleaned the kitchen and are able to sit down and enjoy the meal with her. Of course the moment doesn't last and before either of you can even take a bite the smell of food draws in hungry Avengers.
"Mne vsegda nravitsya, kogda ty gotovish'." (I always love when you cook.)
Natasha says entering first, the smell of traditional food equivalent to a cat with its automatic feeder. Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Sam all slowly trickle in after stomachs growling audibly making you laugh.
"I suppose if I didn't cook every once in a while no one would eat around here hmmm?"
The group shares a laugh as they line up one by one to make plates.
"But in all honesty this meal is thanks to Wanda not me, I merely talked her through the steps."
Wanda can't hide the pink that dust her cheeks and all is going well until a certain twin walks in.
"Pirozhki! You always cook the best food sestra."
The blonde kisses his sisters head as he passes by and you can't help the eyebrow that raises in response.
"Always hmmm?"
You hum and Wanda is saved by the entrance of Thor who could of eaten the entire helping had he got here first.
"Mighty (Y/N) your meals are always most invigorating."
You smile at the God and try not laugh when you see his downcast face once he realizes he is the last one to show. Wiping your face after you finish you excuse yourself it was already nearing noon and you still hadn't even looked at the moutain of paperwork on your desk. Wanda watches you go. Over the next three weeks you and Wanda grow closer she begins training with you and Natasha in the mornings and you read with her sometimes in the afternoons, you don't question her about Pietro's comment after your cooking fiasco and Wanda never says anything about it because that woukd mean admitting to you that she was desperate to spend time with you.
"Soo?"
Natasha ask as the two of you jog around the gardens. It was early afternoon in fall, the cool winds combating your rising body heat making the jog enjoyable.
"Nothing."
"Yebat' will she ever make a move?" (Fuck)
You merely shrug.
"I don't know, I'll start showing signs of heat by the end of the week if that doesn't trigger her there's no hope."
Natasha laughs at that.
"Tak khochetsya al'fu, da?" (So eager for an alpha eh?)
"Not just any alpha, Wanda."
The week passes slowly and as the weekend gets closer your pheromones get stronger. The team knew your heat was approaching as they kept a calander for the Alphas so they could know when to distance, well everyone except Wanda apparently. Its Thursday night by the time she's had enough of your distance and decides to ask why you aren't at the table for dinner with the rest of the team.
"Where's (Y/N), I swear I haven't seen her all week."
Natasha sends a small smirk Wanda's way before Steve speaks up.
"Her heat is approaching so she is keeping extra distance for everyones saftey, she should come back around a week or so from today."
Pink hue coats Wanda's cheeks as the thought of you in heat takes over her mind and the pink only gets darker as her hard on begins to form in her pants. Her mind plummets into thoughts about your slick, and body. Thoughts about filling you with her seed and you being full with her pups causes her to be embarrassed by how hard she's become. If not for the table her bulge would be hard to miss. Wanda remains in a fog for the rest of dinner try as she might she couldn't get her mind off mating you and as everyone stands to part ways she remains seated making the excuse that she'd clean up the kitchen. Wanda strained painfully against her pants she could almost smell you now.
Rubbing your sides you walk towards the kitchen dinner should be over by now and you're starving. You need to get as many calories in as you can before you succumb to your heat tomorrow. The pain was slowly starting to set in and you'd be lying if you said you were looking foreward to the next seven days. You let out a groan as you turn the corner a sudden sharp pain stabbing your side. As you enter the threshold of the kitchen goosebumps rise on your skin the familiar smell of Wanda infultrating your nose before your eyes lock with the alphas. You're almost sure you see Wanda begin to tremble but you quickly begin to back away.
"I'm sorry I thought everyone would be gone by now."
You go to retreat from the kitchen and Wanda stands so quickly her chair falls behind her. In a second she's in your face grabbing you softly by the jaw making you look at her.
"Omega."
She whispers as she sniffs at you rubbing her nose against your cheek before falling to your scent gland.
"Mate."
She whispers again and you chirp. Your omega finally satisfied being acknowledged by your alpha. For a few minutes nothing happens, the two of you stand there relishing eachothers presence. You chirp at her as she lightly growls at you and you feel satisfied, whole even. Then you are painfully reminded of your situation causing you to sharply intake air and groan. Wanda growls louder at the noise of your distress and you whimper.
"It hurts."
Wanda's grip on your jaw becomes tighter, pushing you into the wall before pressing her own body against yours.
"Tell me where it hurts, I'll take care you shchenok." (Puppy)
You groan again, your heat suddenly over taking your senses as a result of having your mate so close. Your hands raise to grip Wanda's arms tightly, nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her shirt.
"Need you, please. Alpha. Mate."
Your words come out as little whimpers. Your panting, you don't know why but suddenly you can't get enough air for full breaths. So caught up in Wanda you don't even process you're about to be mated in the tower kitchen but honestly you don't care either. Wanda however does she feels territorial, primal even. She needs you to herself, needs privacy with you. She'd attack anyone who might see your bare body if she mated you here. Her room was on the other side of the compound, the alpha side far from the omegas and living area but your room was just down the hall. Wanda releases your jaw hands moving down your body till she reaches the back of your thigh. You bite your lip enjoying the electricity you felt from her touch. As she picks you up you wrap your legs around her torso tightly. Her hands against your thighs causing your sex to tingle. You wrap one hand around her neck before running the other through soft red hair. You return to chirping at her, the feeling of finding your mate an overwhelmingly happy one. You rub your cheek against hers softly and the alpha lightly growls in acknowledgment. You are consumed by Wanda's presence unable to focus on anything but her. When she lays you lightly on your bed you aren't even sure where you are, you just know you're there with her. Wanda bends over you, tucking her nose into your scent gland once more and growling loudly. She needs you, needs you marked, claimed. Needs everyone to know you belong to her.
"Mate."
The word is once again a whisper but you hear it all the same. The time to romantically strip you would have to be later gripping opposite sides of the loose shirt you wore the alpha literally tears the cloth off of you exposing your bra cladded torso to her. Your breathing speeds up the intimacy of the moment undeniable as you feel Wanda begin to run her lips down your body. It was like electric shock, the currents Wanda's touch sent through your body. She magiced your bra away completely exposing your upper half and growling as her soft lips wrapped around your nipple. You moan loudly in response, it felt good too good. You could get lost in this sensation alone.
"Mine."
Wanda growls against your skin before moving along to your other nipple. Your hands grip at Wanda through her clothes before you whimper.
"Need to feel you alpha."
Wanda growls in response, her eyes glowing red as she magics away her own clothing her skin now pressing against yours. She moves back up your body mouth hovering close before she lays claim to your own. The kiss is magical, the locking of your lips causing what you could only descibe as bliss throughout your whole body. You felt like you were glowing arms and legs wrapping around the alpha tightly you were sure this must be heaven. Wanda began to grind against you through the fabric of your pants, your underwear gliding against your excessive amount of slick. You blush, embarrassed by how wet you truly are from so little foreplay but the feeling doesnt last long when Wanda growls above you. Wanda pulls your pants off your waist guiding them down your thighs just enough to expose your slick and shudders when the smell of you tingles her nostrils. She's overcome with the need to knot you, breed you as she makes her mark on your neck. But she also feels the feral need to take you, to have your slick dripping down her chin as she causes you to come apart on her tongue. Starting with the latter she pulls your pants off quickly. Breaking away from your lips to slowly kiss down your body. You take a long gasp of air eyes dialating as you watch Wanda work her way down. Your hips begin to twitch unable to stay still at the excitement of what was about to come. Wanda's hands move to firmly grip your waist holding you in place as she kisses your stomach moving lower and lower your stomach muscles flex, a wave of arousal flowing through you. When she reaches her destination her hands move to your thighs lifting them up to hold you wide open for her. You're leaking, literally and Wanda can't wait to have a taste. She dives in slurping up the excess before moving to your center. Sucking on your clit then tongue fucking you like a woman starved. Your slick quenches a thirst Wanda didn't even know she had tongue lapping at your clit before quickly moving towards your hole eager to drink up the slick as a result. It doesn't take long and under normal circumstances you're sure you would of been embarrassed but none of that matters when your muscles spasm. Back arching in the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, your thighs shake, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream. Wanda doesn't stop eagerly drinking up your orgasm before wanting, no needing you to do that again. You whimper in overstimulation but don't stop your alpha, just as turned on by her need for you. You squirm against the red heads mouth a little towards her a little away, this time you last longer if only for your slight sensitivity causing time before the feeling was pleasurable again yet you cum all the same. Wanda moans loudly as you release into her mouth again. She could do this all day she's sure of it. But now as her precum begins to soak her boxers she knows its time. Lifting onto her knees between your legs red eyes glow as her pants disappear and through your haze you see her in all her glory. You reach down gripping her in your hand moaning at the size while she moans at the sensation. You pump her, an overwhelming feeling to suck her down your through the way she'd done you comes over you but Wanda quickly grabs your hand removing you from her.
"You're going to make me bust shchenok." (Puppy)
Wanda hesitates a second if only to allow her own incoming orgasm to subside, she needed to bury herself in you and it wouldn't look good for her if it ended just as quickly as it started. In the meantime she leans down over you meeting your lips in a hungry kiss the taste of you on her lips causing another wave of your own slick to pool between your legs. You push at her lower back willing her to enter you but she resist. Kissing you eagerly before breaking to kiss to move towards your scent gland, you pant quickly. Wanda's kiss having stolen all the air from your lungs.
"Mine."
Wanda whispers against you, hips beginning to grind against your slick in order to lubricate herself. You shudder in response.
"Yours alpha, take me. I want to be yours."
Wanda reaches down gripping herself in order to slowly slide into you. She's thick stretching you out in ways only she can, the burn sends waves through you and by the time she's completely sheathed you're a whimpering mess.
"Yebat' you're so tight." (Fuck)
She pulls out only to slam back into you, her pace is brutal, hips slamming against yours hitting a sweet spot you didn't even know you had repeatedly. Your moans are as loud as the sound of your wet slick sucking Wanda back in. You claw at her wanting her impossibly closer as she fucked you into next week.
"Holy fuck I'm cumming. Alpha. Alpha."
Your eyes roll back as you arch. The orgasm makes you see white and Wanda doesnt stop. You squirting fueling her ego.
"That's right shchenok. You love the way your alpha fucks you, love how deep I am in you. Look shchenok can you see me."
Wanda brings your gaze down the visible bulge in your stomach when the alpha bottoms out causing your stomach to tighten.
"I'm right here."
Wanda says as she pushes down on the bulge and you spasm again another light orgasm washing through you.
"Fuck I'm gonna fill you up, get you pregnant with my pup."
Wanda pumps into you harder, her knot slamming against your entrance as she nears her own release.
"Alpha. Alpha."
You whimper to fucked out to form any other words.
"You're gonna look so pretty swollen with my seed all mine."
You moan again as Wanda bends towards your scent gland the feel of her canines against your neck enough to almost send you over the edge. She sinks her teeth into you right as you hear a pop. Her knot having settled inside you easily combined with the blackout orgasm of your mating bite. When you come to Wanda is still knotted deep inside you. Nuzzling at your cheeks with a low growl. You chirp back to weak to do much else and Wanda hums.
"My mate, my omega."
10 months later.
You were exhausted, to say the least. A new born was a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep. Wanda wasn't here, literally dragged away for a debrief she was required to attend. If you were honest you didn't mind, she'd been slightly smothering you since you gave birth and while you loved her for it just because you gave birth didn't mean you were no longer a functioning adult. You'd been picking petty arguments since your third trimester which you always felt bad for. It was the hormones combined with being put on bedrest so you didn't get to do your job combined with sexual frustration since the doctor said it was no longer safe for intercourse. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, now with the added insecurities about the changes in your body since pregnancy and child birth you weren't sure you even wanted Wanda to touch you. Ignoring the mirror you dry yourself before wrapping a towel around you. Exiting the bathroom right as your little baby boy woke up with soft cries. You coo at him lifting him out of his crib you lose your towel throwing it over the side in order to hold your baby against your bare chest. You were barely one month postpartum but glad to be past the part where you were in a sense literally wearing a human diaper. Your son instantly calms at the sound of your heart beat as you bounce him lightly moving to sit in your bed you lean against the headboard letting out slightly pained noises as you try and relax your overworked back. You cover your lower half with the blanket already feeling the chill of the room as you begin to hum at your son. You don't hear the door open to focused to the little boy in your arms, getting comfortable as you move him to breast feed. You hiss as he begins to work at your sore nipple but eventually relax becoming accustomed to the pain. You rub his little head of hair softly smiling at him a fullness in your heart only created by the birth of your child as Wanda makes her pressence known.
"You're so beautiful dorogaya." (Dearheart)
You bite back your own insecurities at her comment humming in response. Looking up you meet Wanda's piercing eyes before meeting her lips in a kiss.
"I mean it dorogaya or have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts."
You can't help but frown not used to not being able to keep secrets.
"But...."
"Ah ah ah no buts, you're even more beautiful now than the day we met. Pregnancy and childbirth has given you a glow nothing else can."
You sigh a familiar warmth filling your chest in response to Wanda's love.
"YA tebya lyublyu." (I love you)
You whisper your free hand coming to rub against Wanda's cheek.
"I ya lyublyu tebya. Forever and always." (And I love you)
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#scarlett witch#wanda x reader#wanda x you#wanda maximoff x you#alpha wanda#omega reader#bagdaddyb#request
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yooo i love ur writings sm dude! thank u for providing the MUCH needed and appreciated rolan n dammon food ! if ur still accepting and willing to write for a more masc reader, would u do hcs with rolan (and/or dammon, idc :>) with a top/dom inclined reader? :]
BLESS your patience, anon! I got lost in writing a smut fic for this request this week. But you asked for headcanons, so it doesn't feel fair to make you keep waiting! In thanks, please expect a Rolan x m!Tav oneshot soon. 🖤
Rolan x top/dom M!Reader: Relationship Headcanons
[SFW + NSFW both under the cut]
SFW
This wizard has a serious case of oldest sibling disorder
Rolan can be downright bossy, because a lot of his self identity rests on feeling powerful and in control of things
On a deeper level, Rolan is just used to being the one taking care of the people he loves. Having the scenario flipped—being taken care of for once—it throws him off balance
Falling for a guy who takes the lead and takes initiative might honestly cause Rolan a mild identity crisis without him realizing. He’ll deny the feelings for a week or two, stewing and blushing and unintentionally broadcasting his crush to anyone around him
This was not the plan. So why does he keep daydreaming about you picking him up princess style and tossing him down onto your bed
Inside Rolan’s dying to get swept off his feet and lavished, he just doesn’t know it yet
Maybe it finally clicks for him the first time you pull Rolan close and murmur all your appreciation into his pointed ear
Rolan is so weak for praise and so, so hungry for it, especially from you
He can’t help but melt inside when you tell him how good he is, how clever and competent, how much he deserves to feel incredible and how much you’d enjoy being the one to make him feel that way
Kiss him afterward and feel Rolan whimper softly against your mouth as he goes a bit limp in your arms. He’s entirely yours
He’s not only falling in love with you, he’s discovering a whole side of himself he never gave himself time or permission to explore
But you? You make him feel loved and completely safe
Rolan will occasionally come to you to pout or complain about trivial things, just to get a kiss and hear you assure him you’ll take care of it for your sweet little mage
He’s still flustered by how much he enjoys it at first, even more so when he feels himself flush and stiffen under his robes
Rolan also becomes addicted to the feeling of being wrapped up in your arms
Your arm draped on his shoulder: your hands looped around his waist to keep him tucked in close while you’re kissing: and especially your forearms caging him in against the wall while you grind against each other
Rolan’s still proud, so it’s not easy for him to admit or ask for these things out loud unless you’re alone
But even in a public setting, he will sometimes appear close beside your shoulder and glance over at you with a wordless request that means please hold me a bit, I’m tired/lonely/needy for you
If you don’t notice fast enough, Rolan might softly brush your hand or loop his tail low around your calf to get your attention. You’re the one who awakened these feelings in him, and by the hells he’s not going to be ignored now
Face it: you have unleashed needy sub Rolan upon yourself, you’ll just have to dom up and deal with the consequences
NSFW:
When you’re fucking him, Rolan can be somehow vulnerable and teasing/demanding all at the same time
Old habits die hard…so might Rolan if you don’t give him what he needs
Rolan knows the right word from you or the right gesture pinning his wrist or thigh can get him dangerously close to losing it, and some nights that makes him feel rebellious
He has a smart mouth even in bed, and provoking you excites him sometimes
‘Gods, I bet I can finish myself before you do—’ Rolan’s grip closes around his own hard cock as your slickened fingers gently and slowly prepare him
Other nights he has absolutely zero fight in him. Just a soft pile of Tiefling clinging to the man he loves as he kisses across your shoulders, asking you to take him while you tell him that he’s more than good enough
Rolan may try to hide it (that or he’ll make zero effort), but he’s weak for any time you order him around or direct him
‘Get on your hands and knees’ ‘Spread for me like a good boy, Rolan’ ‘Stop biting your lip or I’ll bite it for you—go on and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good, that’s it—’
It all gets him so needy for your cock that he can’t say no to any of it until you’re filling him
His favorite positions are usually the ones that let him hold onto you for even more closeness—missionary, against his desk in the Tower, etc.
Of course, those don't give him a chance to hide his reactions from you, so you’ll occasionally see him blush dark or squeeze his eyes shut or bite back the sounds you coax out of him
Alternatively: just tell Rolan he thinks too much and fuck him into his mattress so hard he can’t think about anything else at all including his own ego
The way he clutches your shoulders for dear life and pants your name will let you know how much Rolan loves it (and you)
#smut#nsft#rolan bg3#bg3 rolan#rolan#rolan x reader#bg3 rolan x reader#if there is other interest for dammon i am open!#bg3 spoilers#bg3 headcanons#bg3 smut#bg3 fic
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Day 21: a fic rated M
📚 Among the Elements by @sweet-s0rr0w
Draco/Harry, 8.3k, M
Summary:
Harry getting pregnant might have been an accident, but Draco means it when he says that he’s all in. What he doesn’t expect is to find himself all alone in St Mungo’s neonatal unit, making life-or-death decisions for a tiny human he’s never even held.
Yet another Mpreg fic on my list! I remember being on a con 10 years ago where a brave soul made a whole lecture on Mpreg to a hundred people in the audience. I have so much respect for this person years later because that must have taken some balls to do 😀 Anyway, I remember a part of the lecture were on theories on why this trope is so popular and I remember exactly zero of them but yeah, there is something to this trope and I indeed do love it 😇
This one is a gentle, raw, aching story.
The relationship between the boys is so mature, so profound and yet so on edge! Also, I will NEVER get tired of Draco being adopted by the Weasleys, and in thic fic it is so delicately done <3 But by far my favourite aspect of it is the way it describes the tiredness of being a new parent so touchingly *melts* I thought about sending it to my friend who has a 6-week old baby but I just thought it would be too rough on her to have the experience being caught in words. I’ll send it to her in a few months tho:
She’d blathered on about ley lines and standing stones and planetary alignment while Draco tried not to weep with exhaustion at the very thought of a midnight ceremony. Everything’s so heavy now, waterlogged: his old self gasping for air somewhere between feeds and changes, between nights spent mumbling Wakefulness charms to avoid falling asleep with Scorpius in his arms and days filled with the stomach-churning terror that he’s doing this all wrong.
And just have a look at the below ONE sentence that somehow encapsulates the wonder of getting to know a brand new family member that haven’t existed yesterday:
“Scorpius,” Draco echoes, as he burrows closer – and for the first time, the word is more than just a sharpness behind Draco’s breastbone, more than an absence of air in his lungs: it’s a promise. A gift. Their future.
*cries* more than just a sharpness hehind his breastbone 😭 more than an absence of air in his lungs 😭 😭 😭
Thank you for today’s prompt @hprecfest and @sweet-s0rr0w for all your delightful works!
Some more of beautiful words under the cut <3
PS. Just to let you know – it’s quite possible I may need to take a break for the next few days. Christmas is pretty crazy in my home, there’s a hundred dumplings to make, at least six cakes and eight other dishes </3 And I am exagerating none of it, damn the traditional Polish cuisine. Wish me luck!!
It had all happened so fast. One moment: Christmas classics on the Wireless, box-knives through packing tape, hanging tiny Quidditch outfits on the line, talking hopes and dreams over ice cream at midnight. The next: panicked shouts, Expecto Patronum (five times before it worked), stern-voiced medics, and a harsh, insistent bleeping that no-one but Draco seemed to hear. One day: Harry, carrying their baby, a beautiful, remarkable, imperfect family that Draco still couldn’t quite wrap his head around. And the next– The next day, Draco had found himself perched on the edge of a plastic armchair, staring numbly through a magical field at the blurry, purplish outline of a baby he didn’t know. His baby, the sign said, though the thin-skinned, bony-limbed creature below resembled neither a Malfoy nor a Potter, but something else entirely. Hardly a baby at all.
The angsttttttt *cry*
Draco pictures a child, small and uncertain, clinging to Harry amidst the hustle and bustle of a busy September Kings Cross platform. He imagines a boy, tall and handsome, beaming up at him from the middle of a Quidditch pitch. He thinks of endless hospital visits, endless frustrating tests, of three lives trapped between separate worlds. And then there’s Harry, shielded in a magical coma, clinging to life by the faintest of threads. Harry, brave, beautiful Harry, who was starved and beaten and raised in a cupboard, all for being different.
The way Draco, with all his pureblood upbringing, knowing nothing but magic, decides in a instant that he’d rather have Scorpius healthy than magical – there were tears in my eyes, I swear.
“I’m sorry,” Draco says all at once, his mother’s disapproval echoing in his head. He’s a disappointment, he knows – to her, and now probably to Pansy, but he’s made up his mind. He can’t let Harry down, not with this. “Oh, my darling,” Pansy whispers, looking for all the world as though she can’t decide whether to smack him or hug him. In the end, she just reaches over to pour him some wine.
Oh Pansy! I have grown to love Pansy in Drarry, I especially love when she’s a fiercely protective friend unrelenting in all her elegance all the same <3
You wanna grab some food? Harry had asked, once Scorpius was settled and they could dawdle by the cotside no longer, which was how Draco had found himself in the local Chinese, pulling out Harry’s chair for him, nerves and embarrassment tangling up inside his chest as he tried to make sense of the menu. They were parents when they’d barely been lovers, partners when they’d barely been friends, and now… this. This is new: this isn’t Harry bringing a fucked-out Draco peanut butter on toast as dawn breaks outside, or the two of them on the balcony in Malta, working their way through the room service menu in an effort to find anything that Harry could eat without gagging. This isn’t takeaway pizza in a half-decorated nursery, or another tray of beige hospital food, or Draco’s Sunday roast left untouched as life moves on around him at the Burrow. What this is – what it feels like – is a date. Draco’s first proper date with the man he sleeps beside, the father of his child, the person he’s fallen in love with somewhere along this brief, crazy journey. A date that goes well.
The fact that they had a baby before they went on a date – well, somehow I’m not even surprised, those boys 😂
#hprecfest2024#hprecfest#sweet-s0rr0w#among the elements#bby Scorpius <3333#drarry#drarry fic rec#hp fic rec#hp
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love the idea that post The Situation thomas is just increasingly obtuse when it comes to jimmy's feelings.
so when one day mrs hughes mentions in passing at how much easier it is to handle james now he's settled down, thomas is incredibly confused. and a little bit heartbroken too of course.
it gets even stranger when on valentine's day alfred sulkily asks jimmy how many cards he's sent that year and jimmy merely shrugs and smirks. mrs patmore chastises them for gossiping and announces that surely, jimmy's only got one to be sending.
then one night, most of the staff are enjoying a rare night off in the pub. as usual, a host of pretty girls surround jimmy, and one particularly brave one asks jimmy if he's got any plans on one of his half days. jimmy throws her a cheeky wink and says "sorry, darling, but i'm spoken for."
thomas starts feeling really rather hurt. he's known all along that this would happen eventually - that jimmy would eventually move on and find a nice village lass, but it still stings to hear it. somehow, it hurts even more knowing that clearly jimmy has fallen for someone but he hasn't even told thomas.
thomas puts on a brave face and elbows daisy in the side. "d'ya hear that? jimmy's kept that quiet 'asn't he?"
daisy looks at him with a frown and cocks her head to the side. "well, not really--" but before she can say anything else she's swept up into the rowdy conversation of the table.
a few weeks later, thomas and jimmy are alone in the servants hall, with thomas reading the paper in his rocking chair and jimmy tapping out melodies on the piano. the tune he's playing is sweet and gentle, and thomas finds himself swaying his head along. as the song draws to a close, a gentle round of applause sounds from the doorway.
baxter stands smiling. "let me call you sweetheart is one of my favourites. it was beautiful, jimmy."
jimmy blushes prettily and stands, closing the piano lid. "thank you, mrs baxter. good night."
after he's gone from the room, baxter enters to fill herself a glass of water. she smiles fondly at thomas. "he's so smitten you know. head over heels." she rolls her eyes affectionately.
it takes months until thomas finally figures out the truth of what's going on. well, to say he figures it out is somewhat generous.
he's in the servants hall again, this time feeling a little despondent with a cup of tea. jimmy had gone to the pictures with alfred of all people, their friendship seemingly improved since jimmy's given up on chasing ivy's skirt. thomas is resolutely not waiting up to make sure jimmy gets home safe. anna is the only other person still up, and she sits opposite thomas stitching one of lady mary's hemlines in companionable silence.
thomas dwells on his own thoughts for a while, until anna rests her sewing on the table and fixes him with a worried look. "are you quite alright, mr barrow?"
"hm? oh, yes anna, i'm very well thank you." he takes a sip of his tea to hide his moue.
anna looks unconvinced. "thomas," she says seriously, "is it-- have you and jimmy had a falling out?"
that genuinely surprises thomas. for all his worry and sadness over jimmy's as yet unknown love interest, they'd never fallen out. "no, no, of course not. he's just busy, that's all, which is to be expected now he's, you know," thomas waves his cup vaguely in the air, "courting the mystery lady."
anna chokes on a laugh. "the mystery lady?"
"yes. he's-- he's courting someone, isn't he? everyone keeps saying that he's... or suggesting that he's taken with someone." Thomas adds somewhat bitterly, "seems quite serious if you ask me. not that he's told me anything about it of course."
anna stops giggling and looks at him oddly. "thomas you-- you can't mean--"
"-- do you know who she is, anna?" thomas interrupts a little desperately. he's becoming tired of it all and he just wants to know-- how bad it is, for how long he's going to have to tend to his broken heart.
"thomas. thomas, jimmy's sweetheart is-- well, it's you."
"me?" thomas has a brief, sickening memory of his feelings before, and how miss o'brien toyed with them so badly. but he knows in his gut, that anna would never, and could never do that. he knows she's being honest, as confusing and terrifying as the statement may be.
"yes." anna smiles. "he's like a little puppy when he's with you. surely you've noticed? he gazes at you with stars in his eyes. he wants to do everything you do, and it seems like every other conversation is all about what you've been telling him this week. he only ever plays love songs on the piano when you're in the room. he laughs at all your jokes and he's not even glanced in the direction of a girl since last year." anna shakes her head. "i thought you knew and were just letting him get used to it."
"no i didn't -- i didn't know, i thought," thomas can feel himself blushing, "i don't know what i thought."
anna stands with a stifled yawn. "you make each other very happy. if you really didn't know, i think you ought to talk to him. good night, mr barrow."
"good night anna. and thank you."
thomas is left in the still and quiet of the room, watching the steam spiral up from his cup. a private and hopeful smile spreads across his face. yes, he thinks, nodding his head, perhaps we should talk.
#thommy#thomas barrow#jimmy kent#downton abbey#sorry what even is this#this is completely unproofread written in one sitting in lapslock#my apologies#thank u to freya for listening to me rant about this concept before telling me to actually write it out#just them being cute#them being in love#im so obsessed with the idea of jimmy being obsessed#like totally head over heels smitten down BAD for thomas#and thomas being like :))) we are friends now and i am happy with this situation i will never ask for any more#obviously he's hiding his neverending jimmy feels#but he's just :))) that theyre in cahoots now#meanwhile jimmy is like#crumbling because he's so in love#and everyone else around them is like ummmmmm could u be more obvious#like we're not even shocked anymore#0 people are surprised#fic#im tagging this fic but idk why because it isnt really its wordvom
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Perhaps 56. “It brings out your eyes.” for a rare pairing of your choice?
my lovely Liquid thank you for this prompt and thank you for then immediately giving me Choscar office au brainworms for it <3 i hope you enjoy this!!!! prompt list
“It brings out your eyes.”
Oscar sighs, reading the text on his phone for the hundredth time this morning.
Enjoy your first day ;)
Fucking Arthur. Oscar will always regret confessing to his best friend that he’d had a decade long crush on his older brother, but today in particular he is really feeling that burn of resentment. He can’t even feel good about it either, because as much as working under his best friend’s hot older brother is going to suck, it’s a really good job that Oscar simply never would have gotten without the connection. He sighs again.
He’d been silently praying in the lead up to this week that this was one of those workplaces where he didn’t really have much face to face time with his boss. But now, after having just finished his orientation, he’s come to the devastating realisation that this is the kind of workplace where he will be seeing a lot of his boss. Thank god he’s had so many years to practise his poker face.
He fiddles with the one personal item he’s set up on his desk. It’s a photo of him, Logan, and Arthur, arms slung around each other and all in different states of uncontrollable laughter. It sits lopsided in a second hand frame that Oscar had picked up for cheap, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He tries not to think too hard about who had taken the photo.
He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat and his head snaps up. Oscar quickly suppresses the groan that threatens to fall from his lips when he sees who it is.
Charles is smiling down at him, pretty green eyes somehow twinkling in the ugly fluorescent lights of the office. He’s dressed impeccably in slacks and a button up shirt; undone enough to be borderline indecent in a professional setting but Oscar’s sure no one would ever complain. He’s leaning on the divider next to Oscar’s desk, an effortless poise to him that to this day Oscar can’t help be mesmerised by.
“Hello, Oscar.” It comes out like a purr in his accent and Oscar swallows. Hard.
“Hi, Charles.” Oscar tugs self consciously at the boring sweater he’d thrown over his button up to hide the creases he couldn’t seem to iron out this morning. Charles’ eyes track the movement.
“Are you settling in okay?” And that’s just the worst of it isn’t it. Oscar thinks he’d be so much better equipped to handle this ridiculous infatuation of Charles wasn’t so… kind.
He nods.
“Yeah, everyone seems really nice. I’m excited to get started.” It sounds like the sort of generic thing anyone would say to their new boss, but Oscar genuinely means it. Charles smiles like he knows this.
“Good. I’m very glad to have you on board.” Charles is purring again and Oscar feels like he might be starting to sweat under his gaze.
He tugs at his jumper again. Charles watches.
“Cute jumper, Oscar.” The corner Charles’ mouth curls up into a smirk that’s on the edge of teasing. Oscar rolls his eyes.
“You don’t have to lie, Charles,” he mutters.
Charles laughs, a musical, tinkling sound that has Oscar curling his toes in his shoes.
“No, no.” Charles waves his hand. “I do mean it.” His smile slides into something more genuine. “It brings out your eyes.”
And there it is. The real reason Oscar suffers so much because of this stupid crush. Charles is a flirt.
His cheeks warm– there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Something glints in Charles’ eye and Oscar thinks he might pass out from the humiliation of it all.
“Thanks, Charles,” he manages to get out. He ducks his head and sinks down into his chair, hoping to become one with it. Thankfully, perceptive, kind Charles decides to give him a break.
“I’ll let you settle in.” And then he squeezes Oscar’s shoulder (Oscar feels like he might actually die) and swans off towards his office.
Head in his hands, Oscar comes to the conclusion that this might be the worst job of his life. On his desk his phone buzzes.
Has Charles been annoying yet?
Little does Arthur know.
#excuse to write choscar this is the best#choscar#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#bug writes#bug answers
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If Tomorrow Never Comes | Part 4 | The Reason
Summary: Trapped in the Upside Down, Steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. Doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story?
Adapted from As The World Burns by @myeuphoricmindset
TW: FemReader, Angst, Smut WC:11038 Masterlist Here
The nights are louder than he remembers. Full of the songs of the cicadas and peepers. The occasional croak of a bullfrog or the hoot of an owl. The distance sounds of traffic from streets away. Somehow it all seems much louder than the Upside-Down. Between the booms of thunder and howls of creatures, there were hours of absolute silence. It’s been six weeks, and Steve hasn’t forgotten how the silence made him feel. Anxious and defensive, like an itch he could never scratch.
Returning to his dark empty house, the quiet is more than he can stand. It’s become routine for him to sit outside on one of the loungers, watching the last rays of gold sink beneath the treeline, waiting for the sky to cycle through the palette of sunset until darkness finally gives way to the burst of stars. The nighttime sounds calm his worries. This is home. Sitting there, he tries to remember every detail so that it can never be taken from him again. Focusing on the pattern of shadows woven across the moon, he can’t help thinking about you. Are you looking up at the same sky?
“I thought I’d find you out here,” Nancy’s voice pulls him from his thoughts as she steps out of the house from the sliding glass door. “You didn’t answer when I knocked. I hope you don’t mind. I let myself in.”
“Of course not,” Steve says, twisting to look at her over his shoulder, “Come have a seat,” he gestures to the chaise beside him.
She moves into the space between the two loungers sitting down sideways so she can face him, folding her dainty hands in her lap. “I heard you were at Dustin’s all day today.”
“I put some shingles on that spot on the roof where the tree fell. They don’t need it leaking when it rains.” Construction is underway all over town. Minor projects are getting pushed down the waitlist as tradesmen try to complete the most lucrative jobs first, so Steve has been doing what he can to help his friends and neighbors.
“Well, that was nice of you,” she comments with a smile.
“Well, if you haven’t heard, I’m a nice guy,” he says with smug charm, his lips quirking on one side, aiming to pull an incredulous laugh from her.
“I think I may have heard that somewhere before,” she giggles, rolling her eyes before continuing, “You must be hungry. Do you want to get something to eat?”
“Nah, Mrs. Henderson made pot roast. She wouldn’t let me leave until I ate two helpings.” He rubs his flat stomach, smiling. Dustin’s mom always makes him feel like family.
“How about a movie then?” she asks, hope filling her voice.
“I’m exhausted, Nance.” He reaches out, patting her hand, “It’s a nice night. Stay here with me for a while.”
“You’ve been sitting out here a lot lately.” She looks down to where his hand covers hers.
“I never realized what I had until I almost lost it,” he says, pulling away from her and looking back towards the horizon. “I like it out here. It helps me think.”
“Think about what?”
“Everything…nothing. I don’t know.” The longer he looks, the more stars come into view. Simple truths are relieved by just taking the time to look.
“You’ve been so distant.”
Her words have him turning towards her again. She’s still looking down, wrapping her arms around herself, her small hands disappearing into the sleeves of her sweater.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be,” he frowns, watching how she’s trying to protect herself, “Are you cold?” He sits up, unzipping his jacket and pulling it off his shoulders. “Here. Sit back.” He stands and waits for her to swing her legs onto the lounger before tucking his coat over her like a blanket.
“Thanks,” she pauses, settling into the leftover warmth, “I thought this would be our time, and I’ve hardly seen you. We haven’t… we’re barely ever alone together.”
He runs a hand through his hair before sitting sideways on the lounger, taking up her position from earlier. “I guess we haven’t,” he says, knowing he’s been neglecting her, but there’s not much left of himself to give, “Work is keeping me busy, and the kids–”
“Steve,” she cuts him off, frustrated by his excuses, “Volunteering at the shelter and doing odd jobs for free doesn’t count as work. And the kids don’t need you to babysit them anymore. Robin’s been back at Family Video for a few weeks now. She told me that Keith has called you.”
“I don’t want to go back to Family Video,” he says, looking away. He’s been over all this before with Robin. “I’m not ready.”
“I know it’s been hard. We’ve all been through so much, but Max is healing. The kids are fine. Everyone is moving on. It’s time for you to start your life.”
His mouth opens with surprise. “Nance, the kids aren’t fine. Have you seen them? Max is struggling.”
“She’s getting better.”
“Nancy, she’s blind. And it’s not just her. Haven’t you seen the way Lucas panics every time he has to leave her side, even for a few minutes?”
“Steve,” she sits up, his jacket slipping down around her waist as she swings her legs to the side, reaching across the space between them to take his hand, “Nothing you can do is gonna fix that.”
“I know that,” he mumbles, but even acknowledging it stirs his guilt.
“I think you should come with me to Boston.” her fingers tighten around his as if she can already sense his reluctance.
“Boston? For school?”
“I think you’ll really like it there. It’s smaller than Indianapolis, and there are all these great old buildings. I called Emerson, and I’ve got it all figured out. It’s not too late to get the money back from my room and board. We can get an apartment, and I can get a job on the weekends.”
“I don’t know. You’re supposed to be studying, not working,” he shakes his head, looking away, “I don’t even know what I’d do in Boston.”
“It’s a city. I’m sure you can find some job that you’d like. Anything is better than Scoops, right? Maybe you can even go to school?”
“Sure, Nance, I didn’t get in at Hawkin’s Community, but I’ll pull out that acceptance letter I got from Harvard.” his eyes roll.
“Then just be with me, Steve. Let’s try and make it work this time,” she moves her head, seeking his eyes, trying to break through the wall between them ever since he’s been back.
He swallows hard and meets her eyes. “I want to, but I can’t leave them.”
She blows out a deep breath and lets go of his hand.
“What if something happens? What if it starts again?”
“It’s not going to, Steve. It’s over,” she emphasizes, like it's something she’s explained before. “Why can’t anyone accept that?” Her question makes him realize maybe she has just not to him. He may not be the only one thinking of someone else. Steve has only seen Will a few times since he’s been home. The boy’s clothes were even looser on his slight frame, and purple skin circled his sunken eyes, and Jonathan wasn’t leaving for school in the fall.
“That’s what we thought the last time, Nance. That’s what we’ve thought every time,” he says, his voice quiet but resolved, “I need to stay until they graduate–”
“That’s three more years,” she complains.
“They need me.”
“I need you.”
“No, you don’t.” he gives her a soft smile, reaching for her again, “You never have, not even once.”
She swipes at the tears forming in her eyes before they can fall. There isn’t anything else she can say.
“Come’er,” he tugs her off her seat, pulling her into his side as he settles back onto his lounger. Her arm wraps around him as she rests her head on his chest, the worry coming off her in waves. “It’s going to be alright, he smooths his hand over her hair, “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Okay,” she says, snuggling closer, “Just don’t take too long.”
He holds her tightly as he looks back toward the darkened sky, the endless stars glinting as brightly as the moon. He tries to imagine his life with her in Boston, sitting on the rooftop of their tiny apartment. Would the stars shine as vividly with all the city lights? Would he still be thinking of you?
“Double check for any loose nails,” Steve instructs Dustin as he climbs down the ladder, his white t-shirt covered in sweat and dirt.
“Sure thing, Dad,” Dustin says smartly as he picks up the discarded singles that Steve had tossed down from the roof and throws them into the trash barrel.
“You don’t want one of those shooting out of the lawn mower,” he points his finger at the boy before picking up a bottle of water and taking a long pull. Despite the cool nights, the heat during the day still felt oppressive, and he could feel the tenderness of a burn beginning on the back of his neck.
“You don’t want one of those shooting out of the mower,” the boy mimics in a mocking voice before adding, “What an asshole.”
“Hey!” Steve fumes, settling his hands on his hips just as Mrs. Henderson comes toddling out of the house holding two glasses of lemonade.
“Oh boys, you finished! It looks so nice,” she says, handing the boys the lemonade and stepping back to admire the view, “You two did a great job.”
“You can’t even see it from down here, Mom,” Dustin scoffs. Earning a warning glance from Steve.
“Well, I can just tell,” Claudia Henderson informs her son, “It’s going to be such a relief not to worry every time it rains,” she says, turning her attention to the other boy, “I can’t thank you enough, Steven. I know you said I couldn’t pay you but here,” she pulls some folded bills from her pocket trying to hand them to Steve.
“No, thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve waves his palms in front of his chest, “The pot roast was thanks enough. It’s been a while since I had a meal like that.”
“Well, you’re welcome anytime. Isn’t that right, Dusty?” She looks for confirmation from her son. When Dustins folds his arms across his chest with a mumble of ‘son of a bitch’, her face goes red with embarrassment. She recovers quickly, smiling at Steve, “Would you like to stay tonight? I’ve got a casserole already to go in the oven.”
“Well–”
“Not tonight, Mom,” Dustin cuts in before Steve can finish, “I’m going to Gareth’s for Hellfire.”
“Dusty, We’ve talked about this. I don’t think that’s safe after everything that’s happened,” Claudia says, her fingers clutching the front of her shirt.
“Jesus Christ, Mom. Eddie’s dead. What more do you want?”
“Watch it, Henderson,” Steve says, putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder.
“Why don’t you fuck off, Steven,” Dustin says, shrugging him off.
“Dusty!“
“Excuse us,” Steve says to Mrs. Henderson as he grabs Dustin by the collar and yanks him around the corner of the house.
“Since when do you talk to your mother like that?” Steve asks the boy as he releases him against the side of the house. “I know you’ve been feeling bad since Eddie, but you need to get this attitude in check. She doesn’t deserve that, and neither does anyone else.”
“Don’t you dare say his name,” Dustin says, his voice rising in anger as he puts both hands on Steve’s chest and shoves him away. “You didn’t know him or care about him. Just do me a favor and add his name to the list of people you don’t give a shit about and forget you ever met him.”
“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, confused. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”
“Ding ding ding. Good detective work, Sherlock Holmes,” Dustin says, trying to walk away until Steve stops him, grabbing the front of his shirt.
“So help me, I may not win many fights, but I know I can kick your ass, you little shit,” he pushes Dustin back against the house. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“Like you care,” the boy spits, his face red with anger.
“Of course I care!” Steve yells, waving his hands. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, but for how long?” Dustin challenges.
“What?”
“Just until you get to play the hero again. Right, Steve?” he asks sarcastically.
“Are you kidding me, dude?” Steve asks, catching on. How can he actually think that? “That’s what this is all about because I pushed you through the gate? I did that for you. So you wouldn’t get stuck there. Someone had to stay-“
“Don’t give me that. You did it to be the hero. I begged Eddie not to go back,” Dustin yells, his voice cracking, nose beginning to run, “He just wouldn’t listen, and neither would you. I don’t need another dead friend, Steve. I need you here.”
“I am here!”
“I heard you,” he says, swiping at his eyes, “When El found you, screaming for her not to take you. You don’t know what it took to get you out. To get that gate back open. What we risked. Tell me again how much you care about us.”
“You got this all wrong. I care about you. All of you,” Steve shakes his head and pulls the boy into a reluctant hug, “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere, you understand?”
Dustin nods into Steve’s chest, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and Steve recognizes the gesture as his own. He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out thick with emotion. “All I thought about was getting home, man. I just couldn’t leave her behind.”
Dustin sniffs, one arm reluctantly landing on Steve’s back. “There’s one thing I don’t get, Steve. If she was so important, then where is she?”
The polished silverware slides against each other, hitting the back of the drawer with a loud clank when Steve yanks it open with more force than necessary. He pulls out a fork and retrieves the open can of SpaghettiOs before heading outside through the slider of the sunroom. The conversation with Dustin plays on a loop in his mind. It’s clear the scars that they all bear are more than skin deep. How do you rejoin a life that doesn’t belong to you anymore?
He sits on the lounger stirring the tomatoey contents of the can. It’s later than usual. The sun has long since dipped below the horizon. A light mist hangs over the pool's surface, its blue-green light brightening the dark corners of the yard. With the thick clouds obscuring the waning moon and stars, the woods surrounding the yards stay shrouded in shadows. Decisions hang over his head like a knife about to drop, hurting the people he cares about. It’s not the past that’s hard to let go. It’s the future that was never supposed to be.
“I don’t know how you can stand that stuff cold,” Hopper’s voice comes from beside Steve just as the first bite passes his lips.
“I guess it’s just a habit now,” Steve replies as Hopper eases himself down on the chair beside him, a six-pack in his hand. He pulls one from the plastic ring, handing it to Steve before taking one for himself.
“Hmm,” Hopper cracks the tab of the Schlitz and takes a loud slurp, “Habits can be hard to break.”
Hopper had been dropping by Steve’s a couple of times a week since he had been home. Steve isn’t sure if this is Hopper’s way of checking up on him or if he just wants an hour of quiet before returning to the full house he shares with Joyce. Hopper has as much on his mind as Steve. Some nights they don’t exchange more than a few words. Whatever his reasoning for stopping by, Steve welcomes the company.
“So,” Steve says after washing down a couple more mouthfuls of Spaghettios with the cold beer, “If I needed to find the address for someone outside of town, is that something you could help me with?”
Hopper’s answer comes in the form of a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pulls a slip of paper from his breast pocket, holding it out to Steve in between two fingers.
There’s a skeptical look on Steve’s face as he takes the paper from the older man. Hopper picks up his beer, going in for another sip as Steve unfolds the note, his eyes widening.
“You’re a damn good cop. You know that, right?” Steve asks, stuffing the paper into the pocket of his jeans.
“You’re not the first one to tell me, kid,” Hopper says, settling back into his lounge and looking to the sky where the clouds have shifted and thinned. Beams of light push through the thin wisps, brightening the darkness. “Whatta ya know?” Hopper says, pulling a cigar from the same pocket, “Looks like it might be a clear night after all.”
A light breeze blows the gauzy material of your sundress around your bare legs as you walk down the street toward your apartment. As you hitch your tote higher, the sun warms your shoulders, and a smile plays at your lips. The pieces of your life always find their way together like a jigsaw puzzle without the bigger picture. Forcing them into what you want never works, but eventually, they fit, a new section more beautiful than you imagined is laid out before you.
Your eyes lift from the sidewalk as a car speeds past, Higher Love blasting out of its open windows. The notes blend with the rush of wind through the trees that line your street. One yellow leaf flutters to the ground, an unmistakable sign that the end of summer is near. You watch the car cruise down the road until it passes the stone steps of your apartment. Your stomach and heart turn somersaults when you see him sitting there watching you from behind a pair of dark avatars, a million-dollar smile gracing his handsome face. Your pulse quickens as you approach, wondering if he will always have this effect on you.
“Hi,” he says, pulling off his glasses and tucking them into the collar of his white tee just as the car turns the corner and the music fades away.
“Hi yourself,” you say, stopping in front of him. “This is a surprise.”
“I thought it was fair,” he shrugs, squinting up at you with one eye slightly closed. “We have unfinished business.” He moves his coat and an empty soda can to his other side, inviting you to join him on the steps.
Climbing a few, you sit next to him, letting the bag fall from your shoulder to rest beside you. “What’s this business?” you ask, your arms circling your knees.
He smirks in response, turning to pull something from his jacket. Returning with a cellophane packet of Twinkies in his hand. “The other pack got a little squished,” he explains as his long fingers tear open the packaging, “These are fresher. I checked the date.” He hands you one of the yellow cakes before taking the other for himself.
“Thanks,” you laugh, taking the slightly sticky treat from his hand. He brings his to his mouth but pauses, wanting to watch you take your first bite, and you oblige him. One hand hovering under your mouth to catch the crumbs as your teeth breach the soft cake. The sweetness is overwhelming you as much as his gesture. “Mmmm, that’s good,” you say with your mouth still full.
“Yeah?” He asks, smiling, taking pleasure in your reaction, at how it feels just being near you again like no time has passed.
“Mmmhmm.” Your tongue darts out, licking the filling from your lips, missing a tiny glob in the corner. Before you can make a second pass, he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his mouth to taste. Behind you, the apartment door opens, and your neighbor from upstairs is maneuvering around you with a heavy box in his arms. Steve’s arm is around your waist, pulling you closer to his side, giving your neighbor more room to get by. It happens quick enough for you to feel dizzy. Five minutes ago, you didn’t think you’d see him again, and now he’s surrounding you, heat lingering like a ghost every place he touches you. The thin material of your skirt barely separates your skin from his Levi-covered legs, his mouth just inches from yours as he bites into his Twinkie.
Your hand shakes as you turn away from him to pull a bottle of water from your bag. Twisting the lid, you take a few gulps to give yourself a moment to regroup.
“Are you alright?” He eyes you with a curious expression. He knows you too well. “Is it okay that I’m here?” He asks, his voice dropping, turning serious.
“I’m always glad to see you, Steve,” you answer honestly. It’s the goodbyes that you can’t bear.
He takes a moment, looking down at the cracked sidewalk. “You look really pretty,” the corners of his mouth lift but not with charm or arrogance, with something much softer. “I mean, you’re always pretty, but when I saw you coming down the street, you looked happy. I didn’t get to see that when we were…there.”
“Thank you. So do you, but I kind of miss the axe.”
A laugh bursts from deep in his chest, “Yeah? Did that do it for you?”
“Definitely,” you giggle, nudging him with your shoulder, “Want some?” You tip your bottle towards him.
“Sure,” he takes it from you.
“It’s my new habit,” you nod toward the bottle, “I get a bit panicked if I don’t have water with me. Kinda crazy, right?”
“Nah,” he takes a sip before replacing the cap and handing it back to you, “That’s not so bad as far as habits go. It’s kind of a smart one, actually. I keep eating Chef Boyardee cold.”
“Eww.” Your nose scrunches.
“Right out of the can,” he chuckles, his fingers circling your wrist, gently pulling your arm into his lap, turning it to reveal the healing scar running down the inside of your arm. “I can’t stand the quiet at night,” he says without looking up from your arm. “I sit outside on my back deck for the noise. It’s where I think about you.” His long fingers trace the raised skin with the softest pressure. “I fall asleep out there most nights.”
“I sleep with the lights on,” you admit in a quieter voice, loving and hating how he touches you like you belong to him-like you’ll always belong to him. “And I stuff a couple of pillows behind me, so it feels like yo–like I’m not alone.”
His eyes lock with yours, and his fingers still. An ache that dulled over the past few weeks but never disappeared completely, crashes over you like a wave. You belong to him, but he’ll never be yours. Not here. Only in another world. Pulling your arm back, you wrap it back around your knees.
He frowns, sensing the shift between you, and changes the subject. “Were you coming from school?” he nods in the direction you came from.
“Oh. Um, yeah,” you say, following his eyes. The center of campus is a few blocks away from your apartment.
“Have classes started?” he asks, thinking about the answer he owes Nancy.
“No. Not for a few more weeks. I-uhh…I was changing my schedule. I’m not going to do fieldwork anymore. I’m going to teach instead. Maybe high school,” you explain.
“But you loved it,” his eyebrows pull together in a straight line.
The same expression your advisor gave you when you told him. “I know, but I can’t. Not anymore.”
His Adam’s apple bobs, an expression of guilt washing over his face.
“Hey, don’t feel bad for me. Teaching’s a good gig. Great hours. Summers off. There are worse jobs.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he says, recovering. “You can force all those kids to listen to your bad jokes.”
“Exactly,” you laugh, squeezing your knees tighter, “What about you? Have you figured out what you want to do yet?”
“No, not yet,” his head turns away, looking down the other side street, “Nancy wants me to come with her to Boston.”
Your heart cracks open even though you knew this was coming. “So you’re together again?”
He turns, shaking his head, “No. Not really. She wants to be.”
“And what do you want?” you ask, but your heart already knows the answer.
“I don’t know,” both hands card through his thick hair, pulling on the ends, “I don’t know. It’s not that easy. The kids….Nothing makes sense to me anymore. Nothing’s made sense since the last time I was with you. That’s why I had to see you.”
“I think you know exactly what you want.” You place your hand on his knee, a gesture meant to comfort, but he takes full advantage, covering your hand with his, lacing his fingers through yours. You should pull away, but your heart pleads to take what you can. Goodbye is just on the horizon.
“You’ve loved her for so long.”
“It doesn’t feel right anymore,” he argues, leaning closer, his forehead brushing yours.
“I think,” you pause, wetting your lips, and his eyes track the movement. “I think you’ve been making decisions thinking of everyone else for so long you’ve forgotten what it’s like to choose something that will make you happy.”
“What if the right thing,” his voice has dropped to just louder than a whisper as his nose runs along your cheek, “and what I want is the same thing?”
“Steve,” your breaths are coming in shudders from deep in your chest. Tears sting behind your eyes as a cruel voice repeats from the back of your mind. He’ll never choose you.
“Can we go inside?” his lips touch yours with the barest of brushes.
His question is a jolt of ice water up your spine. You’ve indulged yourself too long. If you let him in now, tomorrow when he’s gone, you won’t recover. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, pulling back. You let your resolve steel your spine as you stand. Climbing a few steps, putting distance between you.
He stands, trying to follow. Sadness and confusion marring his pretty face. “Honey– "
You stop him with a hand held out in front of you. “All of this. Everything we’ve been through. It happened so you can get what you’ve always wanted. So she can see you. Don’t throw it away, Steve. You’re going to thank me someday.”
His mouth opens, but he can’t find the words. Stepping forward, you throw your arms around him in a hug too quick for him to return before you step back. “I’m so happy to have seen you again.” you smile, working hard to keep your tone enthusiastic, promising yourself you will not fall apart despite the pain. Not this time. “Send me a postcard from Boston, okay?” you ask, but you’re already turning away, pulling your keys from your tote, and moving to the door.
“I miss you,” he says. The pain in his voice makes you pause and close your eyes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever missed anyone before, not the way I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” you turn back to him. You know he’s trying, but it’s not enough, not after having him. He’s still not choosing you, and you deserve someone who will, even though it’s so tempting to give in to him.
“Maybe I’ll surprise you next time,” you keep it light, “I’ll show up in Boston when I need someone to share a Twinkie. Take care of yourself, Steve,” you push your key into the lock.
“Wait. Wait, he says, waving his hands before they settle on his hips, “If you’re so sure I’m supposed to be with her, then what’s your reason? Why were you there? Why did we even meet?”
Your eyes shift to your shoes, trying to find an answer that isn’t a lie, reasoning that it’s okay to lie if it’s for his own good. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
The lock clicks before he can say anything else, and you quickly seal yourself on the other side. You wait until you see him walking down the steps to let yourself into your apartment. Immediately dropping your bag and leaning your back against the door. Your hand moves to your stomach as you silently apologize for your lie. Pushing away, you walk through your tiny kitchen to the refrigerator. Rubbing your eyes, you refuse to let a tear fall. You won’t regret doing the right thing. Your hand wraps around the handle before you yank it open and pull out a juice container. “It was the right thing,” you whisper, letting the door swing closed, revealing the black and white strip of photos of a small blurry shape taped to the other side. “For all of us.”
The buzzing from the cars zooming past in a haphazard flow does nothing to calm Steve’s nerves as he makes the long drive back to Hawkins.
“Fuck,” he slams his hand against the wheel as the memory of you closing that door, shutting him out of your life, replays in his mind. He shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. He shouldn’t have pushed. After being apart for so long, he should have known better. But seeing you come down the street, having you so close–it was like no time had passed. It felt natural to touch you. He had just wanted to talk. Just wanted to see that you were alright, but the feel of your soft skin under his fingertips had only made him want more. And then, just like before, it was over before it really began.
Steve snaps off the radio, cutting off Lindesy’s pleas. One thing had come out of it, though. He had gone to you looking for clarity, and you had given it to him. You were right. He does know what he wants. He keeps the radio off, rolling down the window, listening to the sounds of life around him. Watching the highways turn into towns and more familiar roads until he was crossing the Hawkins town line. Passing the turn for Cornwallis, he heads north toward Maple. The house is dark when he pulls into the driveway, his lights bouncing off the second-story window he had climbed through more than a few times before. But not tonight. He turns the key, pulling it from the ignition, the leather creaking as he leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. The light’s still low, just breaking, when the knock on his window wakes him. The blue of Nancy’s eyes is brighter than the sky as she stands barefoot, freezing her nightgown. She takes his hand as they walk inside.
“I’m working on it, Flo,” Hopper yells in response to the knock at his closed office door. He scrambles for the empty file folder stuck between his booted feet and the desk that they are resting on. He wraps the folder around the copy of Car and Driver that he’s been reading and quickly shoves the half-eaten donut into his top drawer. Replacing it with a red apple that he takes a big bite of just as his door swings open.
“Oh, it’s you,” he says as Steve wanders into his office, shutting the door behind him and sitting heavily in the chair in front of Hopper’s desk.
“What do you want?” Hopper asks as he settles back further in his chair, his eyes moving back to the file folder he’s holding up in front of him.
“How about a job?” Steve asks, his eyes roving around the small office.
“Ha, good one,” Hopper chuckles, pulling out a camel from his breast pocket.
“I’m serious, Hop.”
Hopper narrows his eyes as he lights his cigarette. “What’s gotten into you, kid? Having regrets about not leaving with Nancy a few weeks ago?”
“No. Nothing like that. It was never gonna work out,” Steve says, shaking his head. He said goodbye to Nancy the morning she found him outside her house. He loved her, but they weren’t right for each other. It would have left them both broken if they’d forced their lives to fit together. So, he let her go like you had let him go with affection and without regrets. Another chapter closed.
“I’m ready to figure out what to do with my life.”
Hopper stays quiet, taking another drag from his smoke.
“I figure I’m pretty good at helping people, so that’s what I want to do,” Steve shrugs.
“This isn’t just helping old ladies across the street, Harrington,” Hopper says, sitting up in his chair and blowing out a steady stream of smoke, “It’s hard work.”
“Yeah, I can eat donuts and read Car and Driver, too, Chief,” Steve says, waving a hand toward Hopper.
“Watch it, kid,” Hopper says, slamming the magazine on his desk and stubbing out his cigarette, “What happened with the girl?”
“The girl?” Steve questions
“You went to see her, right?” Hopper asks, leaning forward on his elbows. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Steve says, looking away.
Hopper’s jaw tightens as his eyes turn to slits under thick eyebrows.
“What do you want me to say?” Steve asks, crossing one leg over the other. “She wasn’t interested.”
“Let me get this straight. You went there?”
“Yup.”
“Knocked on her door?”
“Waited for her to get home half the day.”
“Then you told her you weren’t going with Nancy?”
“Well–“
“And that you’re in love with her.”
“Not exactly.”
“You are in love with her?”
“I–”
“What’s wrong with you, Harrington?” Hopper asks, gripping the edge of his desk, “Are you stupid or something?”
“Jesus, Hop,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Have you seen them out there?” Hopper’s uniform-covered elbow slams down on the desk as he points to the closed door, “I’m full up on stupid. Now,” he says, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, “I might have something for someone who’s got their shit together, but right now that aint you, Harrington. So, come back and talk to me when you do.”
“Hop, I–“
“I don’t want to hear it, Harrington. You might be able to do some real good someday, but right now, I’m busy. Important police business to take care of,” Hopper says, propping his feet back up on the desk and burying his face in the magazine.
Steve isn’t sure if it’s sentimentality or sheer curiosity that drew him here, but he did know as soon as he saw the stack of folded afghans being placed in a box at the shelter that this is where he’d end up. On first approach, the cottage doesn’t appear much different than the one in the Upside-down. The tiny home still remained obscured by tall sugar maples and eastern white pines. White curls of paint still clinging to the old timber walls next to sturdy black shutters. But the well-tended beds of colorful flowers that line the walkways and front of the cottage give it a more inviting feel.
His shoes scrape up the stone steps, where he stops to take a fortifying breath preparing to see the woman that used to haunt his bad dreams. His knuckles wrap against the door while flashes of himself cutting away vines play in his mind.
“Mrs. Willard,” he calls after hearing a series of loud coughs on the other side of the door.
“Just a minute. Just a minute,” Her voice gets closer as he hears the locks being worked before the door swings open, “Jesum crow, give an old lady a minute to get to the door.”
Anne Willard’s full height barely put her at the center of Steve’s chest. Her poof of white curls gave her an extra few inches, as well as the sensible black shoes that adorned her feet. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any,” she huffs, ready to slam the door.
“I’m not selling anything, ma’am,” Steve says, giving her one of his best smiles, “I’m Steve Harrington, a volunteer from the shelter over at the middle school. I don’t think anyone thanked you for donating all those blankets, so I wanted to stop by and ask if there was anything I could help you with around your property.”
“Help me?” She takes a step forward, her balled hands landing on her hips, head tipped up to look Steve in the eye, “Do you think I’m senile? Can’t take care of myself?”
“No, ma’am. I know you’re alone out here, and I thought I could be useful.”
“Humph. Well, I guess we’ll have just to wait and see about that,” she says, her clear blue eyes as sharp as a woman half her age, “You better come inside then.”
She turns on her heel, leaving the door open, and Steve with no choice but to follow her. His eyes roam the familiar space. She must not have changed a thing in her home since time stopped in the Upside-down. He feels like he’s lived a lifetime here instead of only a few days.
“Tea,” Mrs. Willard says, raising her finger as she starts down the hall leading to the kitchen. Steve follows her, ghosts echoing in his heart as he passes the closed door of the bedroom where he made love to you.
The kitchen is the same, with brighter sunlight pouring through the windows and backdoor. Fresh flowers stuffed in pitchers dot surfaces between the knit-covered crockery. The older woman stops in front of the butcher block countertop, pushing up on her toes to reach for two mugs from the open shelving.
“Let me do that, Mrs. Willard,” Steve says, reaching beside her and retrieving the mugs.
“Enough with the Missus stuff. Anyone who makes tea in my kitchen calls me Anne,” she says, shuffling to the table and sitting, “The kettle is right there on the–”
But Steve already has the kettle filling. The knited cozy folded neatly near the stove.
“Well, you certainly know your way around a kitchen,” she says, looking at him with a curious eye as he starts the kettle boiling and drops the teabags into the cups.
“I remember you,” she says when he turns and leans against the counter, “I know your mother. You used to run around town with your little gang like you were the Prince of Hawkins. So tell me, have you done any growing up since then?”
“I’d like to think so,” he says as the kettle starts to sing. He pulls it from the stove, pouring water into each mug, and brings both cups to the table.
“Now,” she says, folding her hands in her lap while waiting for the tea to steep, “Is there anything I need doin’? Let’s see, I had the gutters cleaned a few months back. I mow my own lawn and tend to the garden. Besides that, there’s not much else to do. My Jacob built this whole place himself, and it’s just as sturdy as the day we moved in.”
“You have a beautiful home, Anne,” he comments, trying out her first name. “You don’t see places built this solid.” The cottage was the only house they came across in the Upside-Down that was mainly untouched by the decay.
“He built it as a wedding gift. He knew I loved the lake. I just wish we had more years here together. So much wasted time.”
“How long were you married?”
“Forty-three wonderful years. Not enough,” she smiles sadly, sorting through her memories. “We got married at nineteen, but that was considered late at the time. We met when I was sixteen, and everyone knew Jacob was sweet on me right from the start. Walking me home, and bringing me flowers, but every time he asked to take me out, I turned him down flat. I thought he was too good for me. You see, Jacob was from a very well-to-do family. Things like that mattered so much more back then. I told him he shoulda been courting Ellen-Mae Sattler. Her family owned the quarry and half the town. It was no secret she had her sights set on him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Every time I sent him away, he’d just come right back.”
“How did he finally convince you,” Steve asks, completely wrapped up in her story.
“Well, one day he just showed up with a ring and said, ‘I love you, Annie, and if you turn me down, it’s not going to make one lick of difference cause I’m just gonna keep on loving you anyway.’ We got married three days later." Her lip quivers as her eyes turn glossy. "The Lord knows I miss that man every day. Suppose I’ll be joining him soon enough.”
“I know he’ll be waiting, Anne,” Steve says, covering her hand with his.
“Oh well, now I’ve gotten all weepy,” she says, picking up a napkin to dab at her eyes. “Now, what about you, young man? Do you got a girl out there that you love like that?”
“Yeah,” he says, a smile ghosting his lips, “I definitely do.”
A bright flash lights up your small living room, follows a round of thunder rattling the rain-streaked windows. Wrapping your arms tighter around yourself as you sit on your worn couch with your knees pulled up, tucked under your oversized Perdue sweatshirt, you take deep soothing breaths. There have been storms since you’ve returned, but not like this. Not the kind that has the entire sky dark and purple with near-constant thunder. Not the kind with so much lighting, the hair on your arms stands up straight, and you can feel electricity buzzing in the air. It’s taken you right back there, and this time you’re alone.
With another loud boom, the lamp in the corner of the room cuts out, and the room falls into near darkness. “One-two-three,” you count, trying to keep your voice steady and breathing even. As suddenly as it turned off, the light flares on, and the display on your VCR flashes zeros. A deep sigh escapes your chest just as the door buzzer sounds.
Your muscles are stiff with tension as you stand up, moving towards the intercom, “Who is it?”
“It’s Steve.” The sound of his voice is barely audible over the pouring rain. One hand moves to your mouth while your thumb punches the button, unlocking the door. Here he is, saving you again.
Your fingers shake as you work the locks as quickly as you can, opening the door to him standing there half-drenched, hair dripping onto the collar of his soaked gray jacket, a wet crumpled bag in his right hand. He hasn’t taken a full step over the threshold when you are crushing yourself into his chest, your arms going around his middle. Stiffening, he swallows hard before dropping the bag, his arms wrapping tightly around you. He’s freezing but somehow still filling you with warmth.
“I’m sorry,” you say against his chest, “The storm.”
“It’s okay,” he reassures, pulling you closer, letting his hands trail up and down your back, “you’re alright.”
The feel of his lips ghosting at your temple brings you back to awareness, and you step away from him, heat rising from your chest to your cheeks. “Sorry,” you say again, yanking on the cuffs of your sweatshirt, “You picked a good time to drop by,” you chuckle, trying to hide your embarrassment.
“Yeah?” he laughs with you, “Would you mind if I come in then?”
“Ohmygod,” you cover your face with your hands, “Of course.”
Your eyes shift around your kitchen, trying to remember what you might have left out as he picks up his bag and follows you through your apartment into your living room. A small one-bedroom subsidized by the university, is a step up from the dorms you were lucky to get. The galley kitchen leads into the small living room, big enough for a sofa and a desk, that surface overflows with books and papers.
“Nice place,” he says, concern filling him as he watches you flinch with the next flash of lightning.
“Thanks.” You stand in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do now, watching as he unzips his wet jacket revealing a crisp Polo. He carefully folds it, trying to avoid tracking more water through your apartment, and looks around for somewhere he can put it down.
“Let me get you a towel,” you say, rushing from the room down the narrow hallway, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. The wind picks up outside. The storm is right over you now. Branches of the tree outside your bedroom sway back and forth, scraping against your windows. The bi-fold doors of the overstuffed closet stick when you try to pull them open.
“Shit,” you cry when they won’t budge more than an inch.
“Everything okay?” Steve’s worried voice calls from the living room.
The lights flicker as quick snaps of lightning flash like a strobe while you tug harder on the handles. Thunderclaps roar loud enough to shake the entire building as the doors burst open with one last tug that sends you falling backward onto your butt as half your closet empties onto the floor.
“No,” you press your hands to your cheeks, overwhelmed as panic and frustration claw their way up inside you. Ignoring how your head swims, you move to your knees, chasing loose geodes scattered across the floor, when you feel his hands on your shoulders.
“Leave it for now,” he says, his warm hands covering your shaking ones as he helps you to your feet. “It’s not important. We’ll get it cleaned up in a minute.”
Tears prick at your eyes as you nod, trying to slow your breathing.
“It’s okay.” He cups your jaw, tipping your head back so you’re focused on him. The deep hazel of his eyes pulls you in. “Stay with me. I’ve got you, okay? It’s you and me.”
Your hands move to his chest, bunching the fabric into your fists, bringing him closer. Despite the questions that swirl lost somewhere in your mind, you can’t deny yourself the comfort he offers.
“I won’t leave you.” His chest tightens, hoping this is a promise he’s allowed to keep.
“Why aren’t you in Boston?” you ask as a tear spills over your lash line.
“Honey,” his eyes soften as his thumb strokes your cheek, “I was never going to Boston.”
As his arms move around you, bringing you close, you let out a breath that you feel you’ve been holding since you woke up in the hospital. One that has been keeping you from falling to pieces because now you can—he’s holding you together.
Without leaving the safety of his arms, you let him lead you to the couch. Your head finds a home on his chest, and you bring your legs up, curling into him. Something warm gets tucked around you. He holds you close as the storm rages outside, his heartbeat lulling you into calm. At some point, your eyes must have closed because the sound of light rain is the next thing you remember.
“It passed,” Steve says, tightening his hold on you when he feels you stirring, hoping he doesn’t have to let you go yet. Content to stay, you snuggle in deeper, tugging the afghan tighter around you both. The familiar softness of the downy yarn catches your attention.
“Wait, where did you get this?” you ask, sitting up, the scalloped edges running between your fingers, give way to a pattern of multicolored flowers.
“I went to the cottage. Mrs. Willard gave it to me, but I knew right away that it belonged with you.” His arm slides from your shoulder, traveling the length of your back.
“You went there?” An ache runs rampant through your chest. As the sensible voice inside you begs you not to let him climb through the cracks into your heart.
“I needed to see it,” he takes your hand, eager to keep the connection, “it was exactly the same. She hasn’t changed a thing. I asked if she needed any help, but as it turned out, the only thing she needed was someone to listen.”
"And what did she say?"
“She just talked,” he shrugs. “She told me about her husband and their life together. It made me realize how much time I’ve wasted,” he lifts his eyes to yours, “You were right, I know what I want. I want you. You’re the one I can’t live without.”
After all these weeks, the words you didn't dare dream of fall easily from his lips. Leaving what was left of your battered armor to shatter and fall away.
“I should never have left you in the hospital, and I should never have said goodbye. I should have fought for you like I did there. I know you don’t think we belong together, but you loved me. Is there any part of you that still does?”
“I never stopped.” The tears run down your face faster than you can wipe them away. “I can’t. I love you, Steve.”
His eyes light up at your confession. His lips pull tight into a smile as he leans forward, dipping his head, but you stop him with a hand on his chest.
“I love you,” you start again, choking on the words, “But there are things you don’t know about. Things that could change your mind.”
The secret you’ve been keeping is a band on your heart, constricting its beats. One that you know will change everything.
“Honey, whatever it is…I love you. We survived the world burning down around us. We can make it through anything.”
His hand moves to your neck, but you push him away, “No, Steve, you don’t understand,” you hiccup as the tears blur your vision. “I should have told you.”
“It’s okay. I promise,” His thumbs wipe away your tears, “Let me get you some water, and you can tell me.” He stands, leaving you for the kitchen while you try to find a way to tell him.
There’s no doubt in your mind that Steve would do the right thing, and that’s exactly why you couldn’t tell him. He would stay with you out of obligation, and one morning you’d wake up to resentment written all over his face as he trudges through the day instead of living out his dreams. You won’t take that from him. So you’ll tell him, and then you’ll let him go for the last time taking your heart with him. The cabinet bumping closed reminds you of what's pinned on your fridge.
“Steve, wait!” you scramble toward the kitchen, but you're too late. He turns the corner, his eyes lowered to the ultrasound photos he’s carrying in his hands.
You stand still, quiet sobs wracking your chest, like a chess piece on a board waiting to see if his next move will knock you down.
His eyes finally rise, full of hurt and shock. "You're having my baby."
You owe him so much more than the nod of your head, but the words stay lodged in your throat. The sound of soft rain hitting the windows fills the silence between you. He carefully sets the strip of scans on your desk, making sure they have their own spot like they’re something precious. He staggers toward you, moving slowly like he’s afraid to frighten you, his face still in a daze.
“I’m sorry,” you manage as he stops before you. He shakes his head from side to side, keeping his eyes lowered.
“You don’t have to…”
Your words trail off as he sinks to his knees. Placing a gentle hand on your belly, he leans forward until his forehead rests softly beside it.
“Hi,” he whispers, “I’m your dad.”
His fingers stroke feather light where his child is growing inside you. He’s never imagined anything more beautiful.
“You want us?” you ask in whispered tones, “Are you sure?”
“Honey, you’re giving me family. It’s all I have ever wanted.” His lips press softly against your belly.
Your breath leaves your lungs in a whoosh taking your fears with it. The love you feel for him—him and the part of him inside you, cracks open your heart until it’s filling every part of you with such a force you’re surprised you can’t see it glowing under your skin.
“Are they okay?” he asks, lifting his head, keeping his hand where it is, his eyes glossy as he looks up at you, “Is the baby okay? The Upside-down..”
“Yes,” you say, interrupting, not wanting him to worry for a second, “The baby’s fine. Developing normally. I had the ultrasound early, to be sure.” You cover his hand with yours, and he sighs in clear relief, his other hand grabbing your hip.
“You're my reason. Both of you,” he says, pulling you closer, “I’ve never been more sure.”
“You’re mine too,” you say, dropping to the floor to join him, your hand moving to his stubbled cheek, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore,” his hand cradles the back of your head, “I love you, and I’m going to take care of you if you’ll let me?”
“How about we take care of each other?”
His lips stretch into a smile before he leans forward, and they close over yours. "Deal," he agrees, going back for another kiss.
Your arms wind around his neck as he pulls you tightly against him. The plush of his lips working lazily around yours. Steve was right. He had held you like this while the world burned around you, expecting your last act to be loving each other. A love that is rare and true and written in the stars. A love that will survive the test of time. Time that neither one of you will take for granted. Living fully in each minute, watching your love grow into a family. You can feel all this in the press of his lips. The stories of your future are printed there.
"I love you," he says again because he wants you to know loving you was never a choice. His fingers move under the edge of your sweatshirt lighting trails of fire along your skin as his kiss changes from slow to hungry.
"Can I touch you?" He asks. Even though his hands are already on you, he wants your permission to go further.
"Please," you pant, already on the edge of being consumed with want, "I need you, Steve."
"I need you too, honey. Need to know you're mine." His hands lift the edge of your sweatshirt, and you raise your arms, helping him rid you of it. He barely glimpses what he's uncovered before you pull at his Polo, stretching the fabric in your greed to feel his skin against yours. He takes you back in his arms, and it feels like home. Your soft skin a contrast to the thatch of hair on his chest as you feel the rapid beat of his heart against your own. The wet slide of his kiss only makes you want more. Want all of him.
Your whimpers drive his urgency as he lets you go to retrieve a pillow from the couch and carefully lays you back on it. His fingers grip the waistband of shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs.
"You look so pretty all laid out for me," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before sitting back on his heels, his big hand landing where your knees are pushed together, "but I want to see all of you."
Your fingers trace your kiss-bitten lips, feeling the ghost of his as your thighs fall open, revealing the glossy evidence of exactly what he does to you. His fingers run absently up and down your inner thigh as he looks his fill wearing the expression of a man about to take what's his.
"Steve," you whine, feeling impatient while your hands move to your breasts adding a graceful slow roll of your hips to remind him he can do more than just look.
"Fuck, honey. How did I ever stay away from you?" he asks, crawling over to place a kiss just above your belly button, the first in a slow trail ending at the top of your pussy. His hands wrap around your thighs, holding you open for his first slow lick up your center that sends your back arching off the floor.
“You taste so good. I’m already addicted,” he says, eyes catching yours before his mouth closes over you in a wet assault, tongue swirling through your folds, drawing circles around your clit.
“No one,” you gasp, clawing at the carpet while your hips fight against the press of his hands, “No one has ever made me feel this way.”
You can feel him smile against you as he slides two fingers inside your velvety heat moving in and out of you steadily, curling upward to brush against the spot that adds a new layer of euphoria radiating through you.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making you feel like this,” he pauses to kiss the plush of your thigh. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he returns his attention back to your pleasure. He groans with your gentle tugs, the vibrations rippling against your core.
“Need to get you ready for me, honey,” he says, adding a third finger. Biting down on your lip, you hiss through your teeth at the slight sting of the stretch. He gives you time to adjust, waiting until your slick soaks his fingers.
His pace quickens, changing those quick jolts of lighting into a blur of rapture. Your walls tighten as your body tenses. Your chorus of desperate moans his new favorite tune.
"That's it, give it all to me. Cum for me, beautiful." His lips close over your clit, sucking in short bursts. Your blood sings with the new sensations rushing through you, turning molten as you rise like a fiery star.
Calling his name, you fall over the edge into bliss, the world ceasing to exist beyond your connection. He helps you float down with gentle touches and light kisses placed on your belly. He can’t fight back his smile as he looks down at you. A face that he memorized every detail of, now glowing with his love and his child. He didn’t have to die to become the man he wanted to be. He just had to open his heart.
When your eyes flutter open, he’s there, deep moss swirling with amber and gold filled with love. From the first moment you met, you placed your faith in him, and fate has led you to a love you never thought you’d find. After the uncertainty, the struggles, and the fears have fallen away, love is all that is left between you.
He’s chosen you, and you, him. Once in another world and again in this one. A life together that was fought for and hard-won. As the page turns, you’re no longer fearful of what's next, knowing you’ll be together. Whatever lies ahead, you’ll take his hand and welcome the adventure.
Epilogue
"And that's why you don’t take life for granite."
A chorus of groans erupts as the students gather their books and papers when the shrill bell sounds over the loudspeaker.
"Hey, I better start getting some more laughs out of you all, or I'll be forced to assign more homework," you call out over your shoulder as you erase the formulas you had written on the blackboard.
"Will we see you later, Mrs. Harrington?" says the ringleader of a group of four boys lingering around your desk.
"Sorry, guys. No AV club tonight," you tell them as you settle into the creaking chair behind your wooden desk, "I've got plans. Next week, alright?"
"I bet you're going to be busy getting set up to watch the Perseid meteor shower?" questions Travis, the overly enthusiastic one. With a mouth full of braces and a head full of curls, he reminds you of someone else you know.
"Something like that," you smile, thinking about your plans as you tidy the papers on your desk, adjusting the large geode next to your nameplate.
"Alright, see you tomorrow," they concede, shuffling out, their disappointment already forgotten by the time they make it to the door.
"See you tomorrow," you call after them as Tina, an 8th grader with hearts in her eyes, squeezes past them into the doorway.
"A policeman in the office is asking to see you, Mrs. Harrington."
"Thank you, Tina. Can you please tell him I'll meet him outside?" you can barely hide your smile, knowing exactly why he’s here.
"Sure," she says, leaning her head against the edge of the door frame, "He's really dreamy."
“Alright, Tina,” your eyes roll, “Get to where you're supposed to be.”
She’s quick to follow instruction as you finish preparing for your next class. Leaving your room, you walk through the quiet halls and across the empty gym, the sound of your heels clicking against polished floors. Pushing open the set of double doors at the far end, a warm hand wraps around your bicep, pulling you outside into the shade of the building and maneuvers you up against the hard brick wall.
“Mmm,” you whine as Steve pulls away the collar of your blouse and attaches his lips to the spot where your pulse is speeding up, “You're going to get me in trouble,” your voice already breathless, as your hands move to his head holding him there.
“I can’t help it,” he says, running his hands along your sides, “I’ve been thinking about you all day. You’ve got me so distracted.”
“Is that so?” you ask as his lips brush over yours.
“That’s so.” His thumb tugs at your chin, coaxing you to open so he can take the kiss deeper. “I can’t even concentrate..” His words trail off as his mouth takes yours, kissing you like he did that very first time. Like you’re the only woman in the world. Like he adores you.
“Steve,” you mumble against his lip as your hands smooth up the front of the crisp tight-fitting blue button-up. Seeing him in uniform never fails to make you ache with need. The top two buttons are always undone, revealing the white shirt he wears underneath with just a glimpse of the hair on his chest showing and a shiny silver badge pinned just left of his heart. Your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck that he still wears too long to be regulation.
“What did the doctor say this morning?” He asks as one of his hands slides lower on your hip, down the side of your skirt, dipping just under the hem.
“He gave me the all clear,” you breathe out, pulling his mouth back to yours as his hand continues to climb until it finds the lacy edge of your stocking and the garter it’s attached to.
"Are you wearing lingerie?" His fingers get bolder seeking out more of the lace.
"It's new," you answer, grinding yourself against his hardening length, “I thought you deserved it. You’ve been taking such good care of everything since the baby.”
“Jesus, honey,” he groans, tipping his head back and slapping his hand against the rough wall of the building, “How am I going to wait until the kids are in bed?”
“You won’t have to. Hopper is picking up the boys after hockey, and Joyce already has the baby,” two of your fingers start walking down the front of his shirt, brushing against the leather of his belt, heading lower to the flat front of his tight black pants. “We’ll have the house to ourselves until tomorrow.”
“What about Fate?” He asks, his eyebrows pulling together, always the protector of his other favorite girl.
“She’s having a girl's night with El and Max.” you smile, knowing he would ask about your oldest. You set up this plan weeks ago. Waiting to be together after the birth of your babies is just as hard on you as it is on him.
“You’re sneaky.” His hand reaches around you to give your ass a little squeeze.
“You love it,” you admit pressing a small kiss to his lips.
“I love you,” he says as the bell rings again, projected through the speaker over your heads.
“I’ve got to go,” you swat his hand away so you can straighten your skirt.
“Not yet,” he pouts, using a finger to trace your neckline, pulling it away from your body, “Just let me have a little peek,” he tries looking down the front of your blouse.
“Get out of here,” you laugh, giving him a gentle push.
“Fine,” he grumbles with a smile, turning to walk back to where his cruiser is parked.
“Tonight,” you call, making him turn and look back at you.
“Tonight,” he says, raising the fingers of his left hand to his lips, the sun glinting off the gold band on his fourth finger, “and forever.”
The End
AN: Thank you so much for sticking with this little series. It challenged me in ways that I never expected, but I learned a lot writing it.
#steve harrington#stranger things#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#stranger things fanfic#if tomorrow never comes#steve harrington x fem#stranger things smut
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“I wish you would write a fic where…” — Scully is pregnant with (or has already had) baby 2, and Diana is somehow not dead & she comes back into the XF…. Set in either IWTB era (Mulder’s depression) or post s11 (the fall out of CSM and Jackson etc)
1/2
Here you go!
Scully’s in the office looking at pictures of baby Joy on her phone when she hears the knock. It takes her a moment to look up. Joy’s only been in daycare a few weeks, and the only person who ever knocks is Skinner. Instead, when she looks up, there’s a tall woman with an elegant grey chignon and a chic suit with a visitor’s pass clipped to the lapel. Scully’s breath catches in her throat. But it’s not Teena Mulder - it doesn’t even really look like her. There’s just something about the aura she brings that carries that same scent of graceful suffering, like a vintage perfume that’s spoiled somehow.
“Diana,” she says evenly. “Or is it Agent Fowley?”
“Hello, Agent Scully.” Diana gestures to a chair. “May I sit?”
“Be my guest.” Scully sets her phone on the desk, face up. Diana would know she’s recording their conversation. They’ve both learned to keep track of the evidence.
Diana glances at her screen. “She’s a lovely child.”
“Thank you,” Scully says without flinching. “She’s our little miracle.”
“Yes,” Diana says, “somehow they do find their way to you, these miracles. But I suppose you deserve them, after all you’ve endured.”
“Is it Agent Fowley?” Scully presses.
Diana demurs, sweeping away the idea with one hand before it returns to clasp around her crossed knees. “Fox might have returned from the grave to his former employment, but I had no wish to rejoin the FBI’s ranks.”
Scully smiles faintly. “That was a long time ago.”
“Another lifetime,” Diana says. There’s a glint in her eyes, a tension around her lips. Scully doesn’t respond to the jab.
“How can I help you, Diana?” She picks up a pen. “Assistant Director Skinner assured me they’ve upgraded the fire mitigation system, by the way.”
Diana doesn’t react. She seems to be thinking. “I suppose I came to talk to you,” she says at last.
“To me?” Scully tilts her head. “I’m not sure exactly what you think we have to say to each other.” She stares at Diana for a long moment, sifting through the memories. It’s been so long. Another lifetime indeed.
She remembers her last encounter with Diana, the oblique contact, the fear, the rage, the genuine sorrow. “I do owe you a thank you. You’re the one who left the envelope with information about where they’d taken Mulder.”
Diana stirs, as if she’s come back from the depths of her own mind. “Whatever you think of me, Agent Scully, I never wanted either one of you to die.”
Scully smiles, just a little. “Likewise.”
“I believed in the mission,” Diana tells her. “I believed it would save us all. I knew I was working for men in over their heads, but I didn’t see another way.”
“I know,” Scully says, and she does. She does, now that the world didn’t end. Now that the black oil has receded and the shapeshifters have vanished, now that the supersoldier project has been decomissioned, she understands the things Diana did, and why. She will never understand the rest, but she has that.
“I’m sorry for my part in what they did to you. But I wouldn’t change the choices I made.” Diana nods toward Scully’s phone. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you got your miracle.”
“Thank you,” Scully says, and she means it.
They gaze at each other, blue eyes and brown. At last they have taken the true measure of each other, and neither is found wanting. The betrayals of their younger years are old scars now. There isn’t any pain there. It almost doesn’t matter who was right and who was wrong. They moved through different worlds. Of course their paths diverged. Scully, who has loved Mulder and lost him and fought her way back to him a hundred times, understands the urge to reach for him.
Beyond this moment, she knows they will never see eye to eye. She knows Diana knows it too. This is the peace soldiers only find in the middle of the battlefield, when the war is over.
“Thank you,” says Diana.
“For what?” Scully is startled.
“For standing up to the Syndicate, at great personal cost. If their mission was just, their methods were not. Spender’s least of all.”
“Jeffrey came back, you know,” Scully says.
“Yes. He always had too strong a sense of justice to stomach the work.” Diana leans forward just a little. “Thank you for taking care of him.” She doesn’t mean Jeffrey Spender.
“You’re welcome.” Scully’s voice is steady, somehow.
“I can’t say I was deceived,” Diana tells her. “I went into the work with my eyes open. But the world shifted. The plans changed. Whether I couldn’t keep up or I didn’t want to is irrelevant. I wasn’t given the choice.”
“You were a pawn to them,” Scully says.
Diana inclines her head with a economy of motion Scully can’t help but admire. It’s neither agreement nor disagreement, just an acknowledgment of Scully’s own truths. “Well. I’m not any longer.”
“Good,” Scully says.
Diana uncrosses her legs and stands up. “There’s no need to tell Fox I was here.”
“I assumed you came to see him.”
Diana tilts her head and smiles. “No, Agent Scully. My unfinished business was with you.”
They don’t shake hands. Scully watches Diana leave. She taps her phone to stop the recording and then cups her chin in her hand, staring into space. She wonders if Diana will be on the security footage. She wonders if anything has gone missing in the last hour or two. Maybe respect can look like paranoia. Maybe the past can’t be entirely overwritten, but the book can be closed. Maybe this is what peace feels like when a ghost is laid to rest.
Mulder comes in half an hour later and finds her still thinking. He sets a coffee down on the desk in front of her.
“Missing our pride and Joy?” he asks.
“Hmm?” Scully says. “Of course.” She comes back to herself and shuffles the papers on her desk.
“What were you up to all morning?” he asks, settling into a chair with the lazy grace he’s never lost.
“Oh, talking with an old friend,” she says, and it hews close enough to the truth.
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Hi! First of all, thank you for all your amazing cherik fic recommendations. You're literally doing a god's work 💜 Could you please recommend some good fics with Top!Charles? I'd also be okay with them switching. Thank you so much in advance 😊
Hi Anon - thank you for your lovely message and for your patience! Here are some great Top!Charles fics; there's a mix of canon and au along with some dom/sub and a/o ones that I hope you enjoy!
Beneath Me by Magnetism_bind
Charles is a young lord staying at his family's estate for the summer. Erik is his family's stable-hand.
Coup - Alpha!Charles dethrones Shaw and conquers his omega guard.
Treasure by professor
Knight Erik thinks he’s going to slay the dragon and take the beast’s treasure. He’s very, very wrong about that.
Masterpiece by professor
An artist sculpts his finest creation.
Coax me out my love low by tahariel (Frontseat 'verse series)
It’s hard enough waiting a year to meet the man you’re engaged to, but harder still when that man doesn’t even want to stay bonded to you. Charles is determined, however, not to let Erik get away.
deeper than swords (the sun and stars remix) by specficslut (homosociality)
Erik has been traded to a foreign king for a chest of gold and a hundred bushels of grain. In Westchester, he must learn to start a new life... and navigate the roles that have been thrust upon him, whether concubine or courtesan, consort or slave.
Heated Discussion by annejumps
Professor Lehnsherr is an omega and Professor Xavier is an alpha, but somehow in the weeks they've known each other, the issue has never come up....
The Watch by hllfire
Erik decides to take a break one Friday night, going to a club to try and meet someone for a one-night stand. In a dimly lit hallway, with a stranger behind him, he gets what he wants.
twilight by ikeracity, specficslut (homosociality)
"Volatility was a chemical property. Erik remembered Mrs. Berkowitz saying, with the rhythm of a chant, volatility was how likely a substance was to mist into air, and that was how he felt now, like he could dissolve into nothing at any moment, unless he fucked Charles so hard his eyes spun back in his head."
For someone who kills monsters for a living, Erik is irrationally conflicted about the monster in his bed.
Build you up, Break you apart by orphan_account
Charles makes quick work of rolling them over again so that he is once more on top of Erik. This time when Erik reels back to throw a punch, he finds himself immobile. With outstretched fingers, he reaches for the familiar sensation of metal particles but nothing comes to him and Erik’s pupils dilate, a frightening thought waking in its place. No one’s coming to rescue me.
In which Erik is an omega who takes heat suppressants despite the fact that they don't really work well. And on that one day he decides to stay over at Charles' place, his heat cycle starts.
Sharing by ikeracity
One night during the mutant road trip, Erik knocks on Charles's door and brusquely demands to be taken to bed. Charles, who has been very careful about staying out of Erik’s head, is disoriented by the haunted look in Erik’s eyes but is ultimately swayed by the fact that they’ve had this burgeoning tension between them since forever.
They then proceed to have The Saddest And Worst Sex Ever. Erik stalks off all humiliated and unhappy and Charles is confused until he works out that Erik was a virgin--at which point Charles feels equal parts guilty and furious that Erik's basically used him as an instrument of self-harm.
The next time it happens, Charles teaches Erik what it means to really make love.
awoke with a scar by mixture
It isn't so much about the alpha fighting for his honor, but what the alpha does afterwards that sets Erik's teeth on edge.
in the empty moments by soetry
Charles was the only alpha who had ever treated Erik with respect.
That, Erik thought wryly, was probably why his knot was the only one that Erik had ever wanted.
twenty four hours from tulsa by intentation
After having self-emancipated (aka run away), Erik's been holing up in a shitty motel while he figures out his next step. When Charles Xavier moves into the room just down the hall, Erik discovers his new favorite pastime: sex.
To Have and To Hold by ikeracity
The wedding hasn't even started and Charles is already bored. When he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, he doesn't expect to find a gorgeous, stern-faced man having a quiet freak out at his reflection. He doesn't expect said gorgeous, stern-faced man to turn around and start climbing him like a tree. And he certainly doesn't expect to discover only after they've got their clothes back on that the man he just had glorious sex with is the groom.
A Force to Be Reckoned With by firstlightofeos
“No, no, no!” Erik exclaims, slamming his glass forcefully back down onto the bar. “Telepathy is impressive in theory, but realistically, no one’s powerful enough, or has enough control, to make you forget yourself or to get you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“You sound very sure about that,” his companion says, taking a sip of his scotch. He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. “I wonder if you’ve ever really met a telepath before.”
Taking Bets and Making Wagers by windchijmes
Erik is difficult and stubborn. Charles has a saintly level of persistence (and cunning). And neither of them can come to an agreement about who should bottom for their first time. So they have a bet. If Charles can make Erik beg for it, he wins.
And he gets to top.
When the Kids Are Away by dedkake
Charles and Erik have a free moment to themselves, but they're both tired and sore. Erik isn't going to let that get in his way.
Burger Queen by widgenstain
After seeing James in his "stylish" baseball cap that makes him look like a pasty truck-driver, I've decided that there has to be a fic with Charles driving a semi through the country and Erik as a lot lizard (= a hooker working the truck stops).
Rotten Rules by ellenchain
On Erik's first day, he can already tell that prison is indeed not a pony farm. Still, he can't help sticking his nose into dark machinations going on in the depths of the prison. He quickly learns that there is only one rule: eat or be eaten. In addition to all the rumors about dangerous inmates and a corrupt director, a charismatic man from block C in particular does not let him get a good night's sleep. But he too seems to have more secrets than he makes Erik believe ...
a traditional courtship by Helenish
Maybe it’s even a game between them; he catches Charles often enough, watching him, curious, bemused. He lets it go further than he would, otherwise.
#gerec rambles#cherik#top charles#alpha omega#bottom erik#omega erik#alpha charles#fic rec#gerec's fic rec#long post
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