#the drama club is cursed and they know that it’s cursed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

catherinnn · 1 year ago

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I thought of this at work today and I couldn't stop laughing: Imagine Dustin having an older sister who's back from college. So when they need a sub for Hellfire, he asks her because she's the one that taught him how to play in the first place. As soon as she walks in Eddie's brain short-circuits because "Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl?!?!? I would've at least brushed my hair!"

Que Dustin not sure whether he should be disgusted because his sister keeps flirting with his DM all night or excited because there is now a very strong possibility Eddie could become his brother-in-law now.

Roll for Initiative eddie munson x henderson!reader warnings: nothing much really, just fluff overall. eddie self-doubts for just a second, no use of y/n, cursing. a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I really hope you like it. reblogs and comments are very very appreciated. 2.2k words masterlist

“So,” Mike starts talking, Dustin takes notice of his sarcastic tone. “Who the fuck do we know that secretly plays D&D and would want to sub for Lucas”

“Um, well…” but before Dustin can get a word out Mike interrupts him.

“I mean, we’re fucked! Eddie’s gonna hate us and kick us out of Hellfire!”

“Dude-“

“No Dustin, I’m serious! I’m gonna kill Lucas and all his stupid new friends”

“Mike! Do you remember what I told you earlier? About my sister?”

“Uh… no?” he confesses.

“Honestly! Do you ever listen to me?!” Dustin claims angrily. “What I told you is that she’s coming back home. And she used to play, dude!”

“Are you serious?” Mike exclaims, unable to believe their luck. He asks “When does she get here?”

Dustin's heart pounds with anticipation as he waits at the doorstep. It had been months since he last saw you, and he couldn't wait to catch up.

And as your mom’s car pulls into the driveway, Dustin cannot contain his excitement. He rushes to greet you, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You step out of the car, a weary smile on your face as you spot your little brother.

"Dustin!" you exclaim, opening your arms for a hug. "You've gotten even taller since I last saw you."

“You think so?” he asks with hope.

“Oh right? He’s turning into a whole handsome tall man already!” your mom butted into the conversation and you both cringe at her choice of words.

“Ugh, I missed you!” you hug him again and he laughs.

Once you’re inside the house, Dustin wastes no time in bombarding you with stories of his D&D campaigns. He told you about the epic battles and the incredible DM the club has. You make a mental note to tease Steve as soon as you see him since he’s no longer Dustin’s coolest older friend.

“That club sounds so fun!”

"Do you think... would you want to join our club as a sub?" he asks eagerly. "We're short one person since Lucas joined the dark side”

You frown in confusion and he explains. “He’s in the football team”

“Really?” you ask surprised.

“Yeah…” he sounds disappointed. “Anyway, would you help us? Please”

“You’re sure they won’t mind?”

“They would be so thankful if you help us beat Eddie’s ass”

“Okay, sure then” you agree laughing.

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” Dustin shouts from the living room waiting impatiently for you.

“I’ve been ready for like ten minutes, you’re the one who’s taking so long” you answer calmly, not knowing what all the fuss is about.

Meanwhile in the drama room in Hawking’s High…

“Alright gentlemen, are we ready to start?” Eddie says as he walks in.

“Umm no, Dustin’s not here yet” Mike stops him.

“Well, where is he?”

“He’s probably arriving any time now”

“Wheeler, we don’t have all day-“ Eddie starts complaining but the door opening abruptly interrupts him. An agitated Dustin walks in and starts apologizing, but Eddie’s not listening to him.

The club leader still frozen mid-sentence, his brain seemingly short-circuiting as he laid eyes on you, standing by the door. He stumbled over his words, his thoughts are silent but screaming at the same time. Suddenly, the room seemed smaller, the air thicker, as if a spell had been cast upon him.

However, you’re still oblivious to the effect you had over him.

“Soo, who’s this?” Gareth finally asks after waiting for Eddie to ask that question, but he was not even moving.

“Oh, this is my sister” Dustin starts introducing you. Eddie’s trance is broken when he hears your name, the prettiest name he’s ever heard. “She’ll sub for Lucas”

“She will?” Eddie asks with a hint of hope in his voice. All of the sudden hoping Lucas won’t be able to join Hellfire ever again.

The rest of the boys are waiting expectantly for Eddie to ask you all types of question until he finds an unsatisfying enough answer and he’ll decide you can’t sub. But he never does. So Gareth starts asking if you even know how to play D&D.

“Sure she does, she was the one who taught me how to play in the first place” your brother steps in.

You tell the boys your level in the game and for some reason they all seem surprised. They start murmuring among each other. But you notice how the boy on the big throne leans over to your brother to whisper something. You play dumb and walk closer to them.

"Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl? I would've at least brushed my hair!" He whispers-shouts and a smile starts forming on your face.

You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t called your attention. His big puppy eyes, all the rings on his hand. You don’t know why he says that about his hair, you thought it looked really good like that.

At any rate, you take a seat next to your brother, which just so happens to also be next to Eddie. Happy coincidence. And you start playing, Eddie sets the scene. He makes you imagine every single little detail so you feel like you’re actually there. He makes different voices for each character which makes you giggle. He even stands up, or leans over on the table, he talks to every single one of you, not forgetting about anyone. It’s mesmerizing to see him like this.

“I love how passionate you get” you comment and it makes him smile so hard.

He noticed before, every time he would change the tone in his voice to imitate a character, you’d laugh, and now he keeps changing voices just to hear it again.

“Give me the gold! He says. Or I’ll set my hungry wolves free, right this second!” Eddie acts and without failing he’s able to hear your snorts. It distracts him in the best way possible. “You have an adorable laugh” he tells you with a smirk.

This obviously makes you giggle once more, this time with a pink blush decorating your cheeks. “Thanks, it’s just- you’re cute making all the voices”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to blush and smile once more.

Dustin notices this exchange —all of the other boys did�� but he can’t decipher how he feels about it. On the one hand, he feels a little jealous and uncomfortable that you two keep flirting. But on the other hand, it would be really cool to have Eddie as his brother in law.

However, the game continues and so does the places Eddie takes you all to in your minds. So much so that at one point you start getting dizzy.

“Wait, where are we again?” you ask.

“In the mountains near the lake” Gareth answers.

“Are we close to the palace?”

“No no, the palace is behind the woods” Mike explains now. They have more of an advantage than you do, they've been playing this campaign for weeks now.

“Wh- Do you have a map?” You finally ask Eddie and he nods passing it to you.

“Here’s the palace” he comes closer and signals on the map, “and here is where you are”

“Oh, okay”

“You know, if you’re still lost I can stick around to guide you” he whispers giving the closeness.

“Well, you’re the bad guy here,” you argue imagining you’re still inside the game. “How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”

“Me?” he gasps acting offended. “I would never!”

“You already killed Jeff!” you accuse him.

“Yeah, but he’s not half as pretty as you are. I’d miss you too much” he makes sure he’s whispering very close to you now, just because if Jeff heard him he’d start acting offended. Just because of that… no other reason.

“Can we keep playing now? My mom will be here in like ten minutes to pick me up” Mike complains.

Those ten minutes fly by. Before you even realize it, Mike’s mom is honking in her car to hurry him up. And so you finish for the day, starting to gather all your things.

“You know, you owe me a pencil” you tell Eddie.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” he asks playfully.

“I only borrowed it to you! I did not gift it!”

“So you’re calling me a thief? First a killer and now a thief? Glad to know you think so badly of little old me”

“I didn't just called you that!” you say in you defence and he makes confused face, signalling you to continue talking. “I also said you’re cute. You’re a really cute thief and killer”

He starts laughing. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when I'm around?"

“I could ask you the same thing”

“Oh only with you, sweetheart” he promises.

“Me too” you admit a little shyly.

“Yeah?-” he tries to keep flirting but Dustin cuts him off.

“Are you ready? Let’s go”

“Wow, since when are you so eager to leave hellfire?” Eddie notices.

“No reason” he lies, he’s still not sure if all this flirting between you two would be something good or not.

“I think he’s a little jealous his sister is taking all of Eddie’s attention” Gareth teases him.

“No, I’m not!”

“Aw Dusty bun!” Eddie joins in the teasing.

“I’m not jealous! Ask her out for all I care!” he says but regrets it as soon as it left his mouth.

“Really?” Eddie checks in but Dustin is a very proud person, he’s not one to bend. So he nods encouraging his friend.

Good thing you know him like the palm of your hand.

“Let’s go dingus, mom’s probably waiting for us”

Eddie feels this as punch right on his chest. Did he read too much into this? Were you not actually interested? Was it just some playful flirting?

As you walk out the school and into the parking lot. You open the car so your brother can get in but tell him to wait a second, and you walk over to Eddie who was about to get in his van.

“Wait! Thief!” you call him and he turns around. “I think you should, you know… ask me out”

He feels the happiness creeping back into his body. “Yeah? I should?” his playful tone back in his voice. “Would you want to go out with a thief and a murderer?”

“If he’s as cute as you are, then I’d think about it” you make him laugh again.

“How about tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at eight” he proposes.

“I’ll be ready”

“Good”

“Yeah, good” you walk closer to him. “See you tomorrow then” and before leaving, you give him a kiss on his cheek. Hiding your need to kiss him more after seeing his flushed face. You’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow.

Dustin sees you getting in the car with the biggest smile on your face. “Did you ask him out?”

“Um, yeah… listen-“

“It’s fine, really”

“No, listen. I know that maybe it’s a little uncomfortable to think of one of your best friends going out with me. But I promise I would never do anything to hurt him and make it weird between you two-“

“I know that, and I know he wouldn’t do that either” he interrupts you. “I’m just- I’m worried that I won’t be a priority to you or to him anymore”

“Dustin, are you kidding? You could not be more wrong about that!” you argue. “Imagine this date goes well, we’ll start hanging out at home and watch movies with you, we could go out to eat all together, go to the cinema, anything! You name it!”

And the more he thinks about it that way, the more he loves that idea.

So the next day, he helps you choose your outfit, he tells you which hairstyle will look better and then hurries you up when it’s 7:50 pm and you’re still putting mascara on.

“You look fine already! Amazing even! Grab your jacket cause he’ll be here any minute now!” and as soon as he says that, he recognizes that car outside with the loud metal music, seconds later he hears the door knocking.

“I’ll get it, mom!” he yells so his mother won’t embarrass you.

“No, you won’t. I will” you stop him before he can open the door. “Go back to your comic-book. I’ll be back in a few hours”

And he waits until you get back.

When you finally do, he’s on the couch watching TV but mutes it as soon as he hears you.

“Hey” he notices the big smile on your face is on again. He also notices your lips are a little puffy and he cringes at that thought.

“You can go to sleep happily now, the date went amazing” you explain. “God, I think I’m love with him!” you comment as you go up to your room.

“Already?” he judges a little.

But as you promised, the three of you hang out together most of the time. And as long as he looks away when you two kiss or ignores the fact that Eddie’s spending the night in your room after you all catch a movie and order some pizza. He’s really happy that you two found each other.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x henderson!reader

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rinnstars · 9 months ago

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imagineee, aquarium dates with rin. LIKE, SEEING JELLYFISHES AND SHARKS AND CUTE TURTLES WITH OUR RINNIE?? perfecto *chefs kiss*. until you encounter a boy who strayed away from his teacher during their fieldtrip, and starts to tag along with you both. he likes rin but nags you so much?? wow, unfair! anyway, that's all, thank you @rinnstars !! mwa mwa !!

( i got this idea from the C-drama "When I Fly Towards You". the aquarium scene in episode 9 where they happened to be babysitters until the boy was brought back to his teacher and classmates. + please make this in the original timeline. highschool sweethearts with rinrin ( 16 or 17 ) >3< )

sea you with me!

aquarium dates with you

itoshi rin x reader: mainly from rin’s pov, fluff, a little bit of crack, not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated

notes: HIIII anon!!!! YES OFCCCC<333 fun fact is that i have never been to one but i hope it’s still sort of accurate TT spent my lesson break for this I JUST GOT A LITTLE EXCITED… just a little!!!! <3 dwww i read ur other part of req tooo although its in the bonus section ish !! <333

holding your hand in the midst of the crowd that forms around different section of glasses featuring different sea creature - from translucent-like jellyfish that practically shines underneath the blue shimmering light above it hovering around, from green turtles that floats around slowly serenely right next and in contrast to the shark that seem to bare its teeth to show its glory to the people looking in awe. he thinks hes lovesick when he sees that and glance at the reflection of you and him, so reminiscent of those sea creatures - with you being as ethereal and breath-taking as the jellyfish as you smile and him being the sharks being placed on display in a separate tank right beside yours in contrast the same way he frowns and grimaces and glares at others.

really, he thinks he doesn’t quite fit the atmosphere - filled with other students with their friends cheerily taking pictures of one another in front of each glass panel with their digicam (that’s inside his pocket if you ever ask for it), filled with noisy kids that yelp and tug at their parents shirt as they attempt to navigate the already-crowded area, filled with people that dress picture-perfect and light to match the atmosphere in contrast to his black jacket hiding his school uniform. and again, he is reminded of his own lovesickness - forgoing a lazy after school hang out with you right in his bedroom playing yours and his favourite song whilst eating food from that cafe he knows youre practically addicted to simply because you asked him to, without any pleadings or begging. yet, don’t get him wrong, hes having fun here although not in the traditional sense - he enjoys seeing you point and brighten up when you see a fish that just catches your attention as you skip right to it, he enjoys feeling your hands against his as though made for each other as you tug against it to move to the next section, and most importantly he really does enjoy seeing you enjoy yourself. after all, he knows you deserve especially after exam season - he’s seen you all drained out lying your head on your desk just days ago clearly exhusasted a few hours after insisting you’ll be fine, he’s seen your piles of notes and assignments and even more printed exam papers to redo for your exam that he thinks your table has already become the equivalent of an library, and hes seen you fallen asleep at your desk way later than you should be after his football club with tears stains that he wished to have been there to wipe away, to kiss away, anything to have prevented you from having cried.

and its this point as you two are chatting about life, leaning in closer to you, where that colourful fish that has been staying still seems to have woken up and in its hurry seem to swim desperately to another side that startles the both of you (he wishes to curse that fish for it would have been a scene out of a manga that you always read if he had mustered the courage to kiss you right there and then), leading you to stumble and almost hit someone - and by someone, its apparently a little kid who looks confused and dazed, not even moving as you almost crash right into him.

you look at that little kid and he looks right back at you with his wide eyes - and hes pretty sure it lasts a while more before you apparently decide to play “adopt me” (just like when you and him were both kids on roblox.. but he digress…) and he’s pretty sure he might just have accidentally glared at the kid with the way he tugs at your jacket as he walks behind you as though hiding from him. and of course, hes used to that sight, hes never been great with kids - having scared his little cousin with just his looks at some point that led him to be reprimanded by said cousin’s parents, having been bitten by said little cousin as soon as his parents left almost letting out a ear-shattering scream that would have completely shattered whatever ego was left from that bite mark that lasted weeks, having being thrown a drink at by said cousin another time whilst he was minding his business playing games beside him whilst having to save his switch and end up soaking wet in his home clothes for another hour or so (and he’s sworn off babysitting for his cousin ever since then) (he had to go to blue lock)

but in front of you, he wants a little pride, to impress you, he digresses - tugging at his pocket to offer the little kid in front of you a candy (out of the many he brings to give to you and to snack on himself). and he knows hes successful, letting himself smile slightly in victory as the kid face appears from behind you, cautiously accepting the candy that rin helps to tear away the packet of for him to enjoy. and perhaps he associates that sugary sweet strawberry flavour that bursts in his mouth with the two of you, suddenly turning from the quiet and confused kid you randomly found to a kid who suddenly was open and talkative, all smiles and laughter, holding the both of your hands in his and skipping, pulling you and rin with him.

and now, he finds himself no longer pulled by you, but this random kid - but when he looks at you who’s attention is clearly on the kid, smiling and nodding to whatever things he’s saying, you practically you look like an angel especially with the way the aquarium white and blue lights were illuminating you. and midway of course, he slowly lets go of rin’s hand, leaving him behind almost comically as he holds yours and his bag. and he can practically feel eyes glared at him, and all he wants to do is to run away as he walks behind you and that little kid that he now suddenly feels was against him all along - with the way he tugs and your arm and..!

“.. mhm! ah! wait those are my parents! bye bye!” he says, turning back at you and rin with a bright smile that practically filled your heart with warmth as though he was the sun, waving excitedly at the both of you before he cheerily skips towards his parents who looked confused at where he was, pulling him by the hand worriedly.

and with that, your hands are back to merging with his, and that tint of red on his face from embarrassment changes into a blush across his face that is only highlighted by the lights from having his hands on you, walking about in the sea exhibition. he wonders a little what that kid told you, for you to hold his hands seemingly a little tighter, leaning your head on his shoulder that isn’t completely uncharacteristic but still a little strange as you glance at another exhibition of fishes swimming passionately around the tank as though dancing, brushing his hair aside before leaning in and merging your lips with his that practically makes his heart flutters and pump even faster than it does on the field - and he swears he understands all those mangas you rave about teenage romance and whatnot when youre practically made for him.

bonus:

“… seriously bachira… i don’t think that’s rin…”

“it seriously is! i followed him from that cafe! i’m serious isagi!!”

“with that kind of personality…?”

“hey! keep it down a little he’s about to turn around..?!”

and rin thinks hes going to lose his mind when he turns around after that kiss only to see his isagi and bachira huddled together whispering clearly about him in their respective school uniform, tugging you by your hand to somewhere else as he sees them through the reflective glass of the exhibitions following him and you a little too obviously. but he guesses if its with you, he doesn’t mind it at all.

#itoshi rin fluff #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin.<3 #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #req.<3 #FIRST REQ EVER YAYYY

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amorchai · 4 months ago

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𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐔𝐓.

this is a repost from my old blog. original post was 300 notes.

pairing(s): eddie munson x female!barista!reader

words: 1468

warnings/tags: barista!au, eddie being shy.

eddie liked to think he was a romantic. he enjoyed rom-coms more-so than crime or drama, and as much as he loved horror. he liked the thought of being in love and caring for a person, everything being irretrievably about them. buying someone flowers, kissing their cheeks, and playing the guitar for them.

however, he had never been in a relationship. so, why was it the second the opportunity to be provided with the things he’s yearned for that he’s being such a coward? eddie’s foot taps against the gravel outside the small café nervously while he waited to enter.

he leant against the wall, head low while his eyes scan the little notebook in one hand, the other hand’s thumb picking the nail polish off his pointer finger as he reads frantically and nervously. eddie came here every. single. day. yet he was too nervous to step inside.

step 1 – start light. ask her how she is. step 2 – react to what she has to say, show you’re listening!!! step 3 – tell her she looks pretty. step 4 – ask her if she’s busy later tonight. step 5 – ask her if she likes italian food. step 6 – if 4&5 are yes’ then make it clear IT’S A DATE.

there is an array of scribbles and differed handwriting across the small page, robin and steve previously fighting over the pen as they gave eddie pointers during the quiet day at family video. robin assuring she’s a girl and knows, steve disagreeing and saying he’s a pro at this kind of thing.

eddie had talked about the barista he was quickly falling for, one day rushing in for a coffee before hellfire club only to meet the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. since then you had seen him in every day, ready for a coffee and sometimes to sit and spend his days tucked by his notepad.

with a smidgen of hope you’d feel the same way, eddie inhales deeply in preparation before stepping into the quiet café. too early to have a lot of people, which was great, because it meant there was no queue holding him back from talking to you.

a smile creeped upon your face from the moment you saw him, glancing at his pad once more before stuffing it back in his back pocket. his eyes lock with yours and a goofy grin reaches the metal-heads lips, and you feel yourself swooning from behind the counter.

“hi eddie,” you’re so sweet, talking so delicately and calmly that eddie wants to reach over and kiss your precious cheeks right then and there. but he sticks to the list, wanting to be a gentleman and take his time.

step 1 – start light. ask her how she is.

eddie’s usually quite confident, flirty with you. leaving you with a wink and unfortunately nothing farther. so, you immediately notice the turn in attitude. his lip twitches while he smiles and eyebrows are furrowing, eyes blinking rapidly.

“morning, it’s- yeah,” he begins, cursing to himself as he purses his lips and watches as your eyebrows raise in interest, you’re confused by how uncertain he seems. eddie continues before you can question him, “uh- how are you doing, how are you?”

you giggle at eddie’s rambled tone, light and airy and eddie feels himself relax that little bit more hearing it, if only it wasn’t over how much of a fool he sounded. “i’m better now that you’re here, quiet morning.”

eddie nods, the flirty message flying right over his head as he tries to think back to the notes.

step 2 – react to what she has to say, show you’re listening.

“looks quiet too, i can imagine the boredom.”

you nod this time. fingers fidgeting with the till register while looking up at eddie from across the counter, “well my favourite customer has come in so i think that’s the cue for my boredom to leave.” eddie blushes, physically blushes at this, cheeks quickly turning a light shade of pink from your words and tries to play it off.

“wonder who that might be.” you both laugh, eddie’s nerves slowly leaving him part by part as he thinks he can do this. maybe he can ask you out after all, it seems to be going so well.

step 3 – tell her she looks pretty.

god, you did look pretty. so so pretty. cute apron over your autumn-coloured clothes while your eyes sparkled in the morning glow, skin radiating and lips kissable. if you were together, eddie would make sure to tell you every day just how gorgeous you really were, he knows he would.

before eddie can muster up something else to say, you’re talking, “what can i get for you today, eddie?” you would be able to make eddie a drink every day without question if it weren’t for his change in personalities.

one day it’s plain black coffee, no milks or sugars added, pure black coffee. or it was the most sickeningly sweet hot chocolate, syrups galore with sugar and almond milk to top it off, a ‘heart attack in a mug’ you always said to him. no in between order to suffice, eddie was one or the other.

“hot chocolate, please.” it was one of those days. when he ordered that he was happy or energized, not needing a wakeup call and wanting to indulge his sweet tooth. you know how he liked his hot chocolate order; he didn’t need to add that part.

“to-go or to-stay?” you ask, eyes hopeful as your hands hover the takeaway cups and mugs to the side and eddie drags his eyes away from your pretty mouth and towards your eyes, feeling he’s been caught, “to-stay, sitting in today.”

“working on more of your music?” you ask him, and eddie lets out a little nod with his lips pursed yet again. you can tell he’s thinking of something else and you’re proved right when he suddenly splutters, “you look really pretty.”

you freeze your movements with a shocked smile, “thank you.” eddie continues before you can say much more, “seriously, really, really pretty.” eddie’s eyes scan over your frame once again and you try to not show how much his words affect your beating heart.

“are you flirting with me, munson?” you tease him, laughing as he scrunches his face, shaking his head as if to escape all his thoughts while leaning forward, hands on the counter. you tightly hold the mug for his drink between both your hands, smile dropping as you look up at him expectantly, “i’m just going to rush through this because i’m so fucking nervous, okay?”

“okay?”

step 4 – ask her if she’s busy later tonight.

“when do you get off?” eddie asks, tone abrupt compared to the nervous tone moments ago, almost slightly desperate and you’re lucky the café’s quiet and therefore no onlooking eyes to your flustered expression.

you stutter this time, briefly while you reply, “i-uh i close tonight, finish at seven.” eddie grins, wide and happy before he asks, “are you busy after?”

your eyes widen knowingly, “no, no i’m not doing anything tonight, no.”

step 5 – ask her if she likes italian food.

“do you like italian food?” eddie asks and it’s as if everything falls into place. eddie munson is asking you out. finally. after the months of you hinting that you like him without the courage to ask him out yourself. he was looking at you with so much hope, scared that you may say you don’t want to go out with him to eat italian food.

he must be an idiot if he thinks you don’t like him back.

“i love pasta.” you’re so quiet with your response, almost a whisper. but more than enough for eddie to hear and he’s positively beaming from ear to ear as he builds up to his final question.

step 6 – if 4 is no and 5 is yes then make it clear IT’S A DATE.

“perfect. i’ll be here at seven to take you to dinner, it’s a date,” eddie drums his hands against the counter when he leans back and you can only nod dumbfoundedly from the switch of him being precious and nervous to asking you out on a date.

“i’ll uh- i’ll bring your drink out to you once it’s done.”

eddie chuckles at the fact that’s all you respond with, squeaked tone endearing as he winks at you. “i’ll be over there, writing you a song,” eddie nods over to the side, pulling the pad and pen out his back pocket and chuckles once more when you react to his flirtatious manner with a small, “oh my god.”

he finally got that date with the cute barista; he just hoped the hours would go by quickly until it reached seven.

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

#જ⁀➴ 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 #𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⁑ eddie munson ໒꒱#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #stranger things au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fics #eddie munson comfort

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the-witty-pen-name · 6 months ago

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Slumber Party Kissing

Gareth Emerson X F!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Synopsis: The Wheeler siblings are at odds because Mike needs to host Hellfire the same night as Nancy’s slumber party on her weekend home from college. As much as the two of them try to keep the groups apart, intermingling inevitably ensues.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI cursing; alcohol; arguing; flirting; kissing/making out; fingering; oral m receiving (+swallowing); dirty talk

A/N: Y'all- idk what came over me with this one... Comments & reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you like it!

The last thing Nancy wanted to hear is that she’s being forced to share the house with her brother’s weird friends. She hasn’t seen her friends in months and now her reunion is being trampled on by a band of geeks with stupid dice. She pleaded with her mother- begged practically on her hands and knees to please not let Mike have his friends over that night.

Mike was stuck. The drama club had completely taken over the theatre room with their show coming up- the whole space is completely torn apart and they’ve essentially forced Hellfire out. Eddie cornered Mike, and put the burden to figure out a new meeting spot on him. Mike had no choice but to beg his parents to let Hellfire meet at their house that night.

So, the Wheeler house was a house divided. Hellfire was corralled in the basement while Nancy and her friends staked their claim to the ground floors. And it worked- for a little while. Until the campaign would be interrupted, giggling girls and loud music from above distracting from the harrowing journey. Or, the girls would hear the screams and battle cries from below- Nancy rolling her eyes and becoming more annoyed with every passing minute.

You’d been anxious about tonight ever since Nancy told you Hellfire Club was going to be there. Not because you believed what everyone said, you knew they weren’t. It was because you knew Gareth would be there, the boy you crushed on the entirety of high school. You hadn’t seen him since your graduation back in June. Now, what was supposed to be a night of girl talk and catching up with your old friends, is different than you’d hoped- your mind unable to focus on the fact that he’s so close by.

“Hungry Eyes” by Eric Carmen blasting through the whole house on the living room stereo is Eddie’s breaking point. He slams his campaign notebook on the edge of the table as he gets up. “I’m putting a fucking stop to this,” he exclaims, kicking up from his seat. Mike panics, knowing that he’ll never hear the end of it from Nancy if Eddie crashes her party. Gareth and Jeff are in tow, and Grant steps in front of the stairs, blocking Mike from following them up.

“Wheeler, can you turn this shit off!? Holy-” Eddie’s words fail as Jeff and Gareth stumble in behind them. You feel like you’ve been caught in something as the boys storm in. You’re frozen in place- standing in the middle of the Wheeler’s living room in your pajamas, hairbrush microphone in hand, singing along with Eric Carmen as off-key as you could manage. You feel like someone pulled the curtain back on you leaving you completely exposed. The girls who were cheering you on have all fallen silent, and Nancy looks like she might kill Eddie. Mike comes bursting into the room, but is stuck in place at the tension in the room. He doesn’t know how to diffuse the situation.

Gareth didn’t know you were going to be here. Seeing you again has him slack-jawed. He can’t help the way his eyes rake over you. It’s been months since he’d seen you. The fabric of your pajama set looks so soft- the tiny shorts showing off more of your leg than your skirts at school ever did. He’s dreamt about being able to see you like this. He didn’t think he’d ever see you after graduation, and he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

“Let’s go to the kitchen- I have appetizers I made,” Nancy suggests, shooting daggers at Eddie- shoving past them to go towards the kitchen. She grabs two bottles of wine by their stems from the cabinet and gestures for all of you to follow her. Embarrassed, you turn off the stereo and slip past them- avoiding looking at Gareth at all costs. You were mortified.

“Come on, let’s get back to the campaign,” Mike tries to urge, knowing that he’s going to be facing hell from Nancy tomorrow when everyone is gone. Gareth didn’t hear him, too wrapped up in his own thoughts- his eyes still following your every move. He doesn’t break his stare until you glance up and catch him looking. He immediately shifts his focus back to Mike and nods in agreement. For now, they all retreat back to the basement to pick up where they left off.

The group of you stand around the kitchen island, enjoying the array of finger food Nancy has put out. It looks like something taken directly out of Good Housekeeping. You’re sandwiched between Nancy and Chrissy as all the girls resume their chatter. “I am so sorry about that,” Nancy says to the group, “I tried everything to prevent that.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Chrissy shrugs, “It’s Mike’s house too.” Always diplomatic. “Besides,” she giggles looking around before she speaks, “I always thought Eddie was really cute.”

“Ew!” Nancy says in faux disgust as the group all laugh. Chrissy’s cheeks flush a rosy pink and she hides her head in her hands.

“Sue me!” she jokes. “I can’t help it, I love the hair and the tats- he’s so hot!”

“I get it,” Tina shrugs, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s the whole rock star look- it’s against the laws of nature for a loser to be that hot. Do you guys remember Billy? He was so hot.”

“He was a total psychopath!” Nancy says, jaw dropped. She leans on the table and takes another sip of her wine. “He works at the auto body shop now,” she continues.

“Mental note to slash my own tires,” Tina jokes. “Oh, he was totally insane- but god, those abs. I would go to the pool like at least three times a week the whole summer he worked there. He was a god. He totally wanted to fuck your mom, Nance-”

“EW! Shut up!” she gasps, waving her hand over Tina’s mouth.

“What about you?” Tina asks, directing her attention back to you. “Who did you think was hot in high school?” Your face burns.

“Uh-”

An eruption of screams from downstairs distracts everyone and you thankfully don’t have to answer. The boys have suffered a major loss in their campaign. Lucas’s character has just died a heinous death at the hands of Venca and they are riled up, desperate for vengeance on behalf of their fallen comrade. Dustin has chosen to lead the group to Vecna’s lair against the odds that are stacked against them. The boys clamor and scream as they watch the dice roll. It will be the end of everything.

“Can you guys keep it down?” Nancy yells, stomping down the stairs with you and Chrissy closely behind, interrupting the game. Mike and Dustin shout, irritated that she's come downstairs to interfere. “Mike, I swear to god! You guys have been so obnoxious the whole night and we’ve said nothing!”

You rock and on your heels anxiously, not sure why Nancy insisted on bringing you down here. She didn’t need back up. She could handle this fine. She mumbled something about a united front when she grabbed your wrist, dragging you downstairs with her.

“If you girls wanted to play with us, all you needed to do was ask,” Eddie smirks, warning a scoff from Nancy- but a blush from Chrissy. Gareth wants the world to open up and swallow him whole. He can’t even bear to look over at you. “Why don’t we all just play nice?” He says, eyes flickering over to Chrissy. She giggles nervously. Good god, he was laying it on so thick- and it was fucking working.

“You’re a pig,” Nancy states matter of factly. He ignores her and he winks at Chrissy. She giggles again, and you roll your eyes. You grab her forearm to shake her out of it.

Gareth is jealous at how easy all of this comes to Eddie. He exudes confidence, and Gareth wishes he had just an ounce of that. He could say something to make you react that way towards him. He craves that. He wants you to look at him the way Chrissy is looking at Eddie. He’s so wrapped up in his own head he can’t see that the way you look at him is even more intense than the exchange between Eddie and Chrissy.

Gareth’s hair is unruly from the excitement of the campaign. His curls are everywhere and you just desperately want to run your hands through it. You can imagine kissing him, and your hands are the cause of the mess of curls. His jaw is clenched, probably from the stress of the awkward situation, but you can’t help but dwell on how good it looks. You bite your lip, like it’s holding you back.

Giving up for now, Nancy glared at Mike one more time before heading back upstairs- stomping loudly on every step for emphasis. You and Chrissy look at each other, exchanging a look, both of you communicating with your eyes before following Nancy back upstairs. You wish you had an excuse to stay.

Your eyes are covered by slices of cucumber as you lay down on the floor of the living room. As it got later in the evening, both parties began to mellow- for your group, that meant mud masks and relaxing lotions, and nail painting. You all lounged on the furniture or the floor, wherever there was space. You laid in front of the couch as Chrissy and Tina shared the couch, their heads on opposite sides. Nancy sat in one recliner, and Vicki in the other. Ally, Samantha, Amy, Laurie and Becky joined you on the carpet.

After the campaign ended, the boys opted to stick around and hang out, watching a crappy movie on the television set in the basement. Gareth was fidgeting, unable to relax- you were right upstairs! You were so close and still as unattainable as ever. He didn’t know if after tonight he’d have an opportunity to see you again. He should’ve taken advantage of the time when he saw you in school every day. You’re no longer in his life by proximity. He knew he should make a move, say something- anything. He just didn’t know how he would without embarrassing himself.

Nancy had easy listening music playing softly as you all basked in the pampering. You were all just talking about nothing- college, work, catching up. You hadn’t seen these girls since everyone started going their own way after graduation. “You never answered my question earlier,” you hear Tina’s voice direct the comment towards you. You wince, grateful that none of them can see you squirm- everyone with either cooling eye masks or cucumbers over their eyes. They would be none the wiser if you could just be nonchalant- something that was never your strong suit.

“Honestly?” you begin nervously, trying to steady your breath. It’s become so late that you’re too tired to advise yourself to not spill. “Gareth Emerson- since like freshman year when he showed up to school with his hair grown out- I would just wanna run my hands through it all the time.” You expect to be met with laughter, teasing you for having a crush on a freak- like how they reacted to Chrissy. Instead, you’re met with an unsettling silence. You sit up, letting the cucumbers fall into your lap. Everyone else had taken their masks off already, and you didn’t know. You look up and follow where everyone is looking.

Gareth is standing right there, looking at you with his eyes wide in shock. Apparently everyone else heard someone walk in, except you. This is worse than anything- a million times worse to the awkwardness of the Eric Carmen incident earlier tonight, worse than when you got your period and bleed through your jeans in middle school, worse than when you forgot the words to the pledge of allegiance when you did the morning announcements, worse than when you tripped and accidentally spilled your lunch all over Carol… every awkward thing that you’ve done that keeps you lying awake at night is nothing compared to this.

You’re so embarrassed, you can’t even think and you feel like the room is spinning. You can’t even say anything as everyone looks to you for your reaction. The silence is killing you. There’s nothing to drown out the ringing in your ears as your worst possible fear is coming true. You quickly get up and rush upstairs as tears threatening to fall blur your vision, and your friends let you go. You need to brush shoulders with Gareth to get to the stairs, and you feel your skin ignite at the sensation despite feeling like the house is shattering around you.

You’ve resolved that you’re going home. You can’t handle being under the same roof as him anymore. It’s all too much. It feels like practically your entire gradutating class seems to know about your crush now. More importantly, so did he. Rather than face the sting of rejection, in the heat of the moment, you resolve to try to get dressed and sneak out the bathroom window. You decide you can be gone before people realize you’ve left. Before you do anything to put your elaborate plan into motion, you run the water to splash some on your face. There’s a hesitant knock on the door.

“It’s Gareth,” he says softly from the other side of the door.

Oh god no, you panic. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of the mirror. Fuck.

“Can we talk?” He asks, tapping gently on the door.

No.

“Uh, yeah,” you sniffle, trying your best to hide it. You open the door to face him. You’re bracing yourself for the worst. “Listen,” you begin, resolving that you will badly lie your way out of this to salvage your pride. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that. It was just like a stupid high school crush. I’ve gotten over it…”

“What if,” he poses, finally mustering his courage, “what if I never got over it?”

Gareth doesn’t really remember a lot of the things he was supposed to be learning when you both were still in school. He vaguely remembered things, but only because how could he be expected to look at the board when you were so close, sat right in front of him. He’d memorize the back of your head before even thinking about trying to memorize his notes.

The day the teacher went over Punnett squares? No idea, cause you were wearing that bow in your hair. Covalent bonds? That was the day your hair was up in a claw clip- and all he could focus on was the way it accentuated your neck and shoulders. Periodic table? Maybe he could name a few if he tried, but he remembered that jean skirt you wore so much better. Stoichiometry? Couldn’t even tell you if that’s a real word- but, he remembers that your perfume always smelled like vanilla.

“What the fuck is taking him so long?” Mike finally asks the group. Gareth left to go to the bathroom what feels like forever ago. Eddie is bobbing is knee impatiently that he shakes the table.

“You should go check on him,” Dustin says to Mike.

“And face the wrath of Nancy? Fuck that,” Mike says, shaking his head.

“It’s your house, man,” Lucas points out.

“You all are pathetic, acting like babies, can’t believe you’re acting this scared of fucking Wheeler,” Eddie is exasperated and his patience has now worn thin. “Fuck, I’ll go with you Wheeler, I don’t care if your sister yells at me.”

Heading upstairs, Eddie and the rest of Hellfire stop dead in their tracks. The entire slumber party is sitting so still, eyes directed upstairs like they're anticipating something at any second. No one even acknowledges the guys’ entrance until Jeff speaks up.

“What is going-” he tries to ask.

“SHH!” Several of the girls shush him at once. He’s taken aback.

“What happened?” Eddie whispers, taking a seat next to Chrissy. The rest of Hellfire trickles in and takes seats on the floor or on the arms of the chairs. Everyone is waiting literally on the edge of their seats.

“We were all talking, you know-” Chrissy whispers, “girl talk. Crushes and stuff.”

“Normal sleepover you know?” Tina chimes in, helping Chrissy set the scene for all of the guys.

Chrissy asks if Eddie remembered you, he nods and so do the others. Of course, Eddie, Jeff and Grant remembered you. You were all Gareth would talk about outside of band practice or DnD. Jeff and Grant exchange a wary look, not sure where this is going. What the fuck happened?”

“Well, Tina asked her who she had a crush on,” Chrissy continues to explain, Eddie leaning in closer as she keeps her voice down so the girls can continue to eavesdrop. “And she said Gareth and Gareth walked in just as she was talking about him. She was so upset, she darted upstairs before anyone could say anything. Gareth followed her. We don’t know what to do!”

“You let them be,” Eddie says matter of factly. If he could run upstairs and high five his best friend he would, but being the guy’s best friend at this moment means Eddie needs to keep people distracted so you both can sort yourselves out. He goes over to the stereo and looks through the options.

“Mike, your family has shit for cassettes,” Eddie declares, “None of you have taste.” He holds up Nancy’s copy of Rio between his thumb and index finger, dangling it like it’s something smelly that’s gone bad. “I’m disappointed in you, Wheeler.”

Nancy gets up and snatches the cassette from him. Spitefully, she shoves the tape into the player and turns it all the way up. Hungry Like the Wolf starts playing halfway through cause she didn’t rewind it the last time she listened. She turns the volume dial up, and flips Eddie the bird. He walks over to shut it off, purposely agitating her. Nancy stomps over and turns it back on.

Your hands are tangled in Gareth’s hair and it’s better than you even imagined it would be. His curls are so soft, and he moans against your lips at the sensation when you tug gently. You completely forgot everyone was downstairs until you both heard the radio switching on and off rapidly. You both pull away from a heated kiss and turn to the direction of the door, a brief moment of confusion before Gareth shrugs and connects his lips to yours again.

You’re sitting on the bathroom counter, Gareth standing between your legs which have now wrapped around him. His hands grip the sides of your thighs, practically kneading at your soft skin. Your lips slot perfectly against his, and it’s better than you imagined it would be. Your hands travel from his hair to cup his jaw and you use your legs to pull him in even closer, until your chests are flush against each other. The sensation is dizzying.

“Wanted this for so long,” he moans softly against your ear, when you both pull away for air. His lips trail from the bottom of your ear, down your neck and collarbone. “So fucking pretty,” he mumbles against your skin, kissing right along to your shoulder.

“Gare, please,” you beg, not even fully sure what you’re asking for. Your breathy little plea goes straight to his cock.

“I’ve got you baby,” he promises. His fingertips dip into the waistband of your pajama shorts and he groans, dipping his forehead to rest on your shoulder. “You’re not wearing panties?” he asks, but not a question- but more like a sigh, like the knowledge of you being bare under your set is too much for him to handle. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he presses his lips to yours again, his fingertips circling your clit perfectly. “So wet,” he praises against your lips, not breaking the kiss.

His fingers slip into your folds and you rest your head back on the bathroom mirror, your chest rising and falling rapidly- you’re falling apart at his touch. Just like you knew you always would. You’re a moaning, pleading mess, his name falling from your lips over and over again like a prayer. The familiar knot starts to coil up as you feel your orgasm send a wave throughout your entire body. Your hands are holding his hair to keep you grounded as you become unraveled. He kisses you through it, praising you and whispering sweet things as he works you through your high.

Your forehead rests against his, foreheads sweaty, but neither of you can even bring yourself to care. You kiss him slowly, gently pushing him back against the opposite fall. His eyes widen in surprise as he observes your actions. You move as one with him, climbing off the counter and then you sink down to your knees, eye level with the prominent bulge in his jeans.

“Oh fuck,” he moans as you make quick work of undoing his zipper and freeing his cock from the restraint of his jeans and boxers. He’s looking down at you, trying to commit it to memory: your wide eyes hungrily staring at his cock, your manicured hand wrapping gently around him. your pretty lips kissing his tip and your tongue licking up the length before taking his cock into your pretty mouth. His hands rest in your hair and he closes his eyes, resting his head back because it already feels too fucking good. He can’t look at you- he knows it will send him over the edge too soon. There’d been so many nights he’d fantasize exactly this- he’s almost afraid that he’ll open his eyes and you’ll be gone. All of tonight being just a figment of his imagination.

He opens his eyes to steal a glimpse of you finally, and you're looking up at him with these round doe eyes and it’s all too much for him to take. “I’m close- what should I-” he manages to say, but his coming apart only makes you all the more eager. You continue your pace, but you reach up and hold his hips, your nails slightly digging into his skin to keep him in place. It all becomes so overwhelming, and you moan feeling him pulse, knowing he’s so teasingly close. He practically whimpers as it washes over him as he finally releases and you’re still going- working him through it. When he pulls away, you do something he never imagined. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out ever so slightly, showing him his cum in your mouth before you swallow.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He bends down to kiss you, cupping your face in his hands. He can't taste himself on you, and he thinks it might be the hottest thing he’s ever experienced.

A loud, pounding knock on the door makes you both jump. You quickly scramble to your feet, wiping the spit from your mouth and Gareth fumbles to get his zipper back up. “Can you two lovebirds finish up in there!?” Eddie shouts, “I can’t keep covering for your asses anymore! Emerson, we have a campaign to fucking finish!”

TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael

#x reader #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x f!reader #gareth emerson x fem!reader #gareth x you #gareth emerson x you #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth stranger things #gareth stranger thing fan fic #stranger things fan fic #smut #gareth emerson smut #stranger things x reader #gareth x reder #gareth x y/n

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nameless-jamie · 5 months ago

Text

Moan

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes

Jamie Tartt was a pain in Y/N’s ass on a good day. On a bad day, though—like today for example, when he was injured and milking it for all it was worth—he was insufferable.

Y/N stood in his living room, arms crossed, watching as he sprawled out on his couch like a prince in exile, his left ankle propped up on a pile of pillows. His shorts had ridden up slightly, exposing more of his ridiculously toned thigh than necessary, and he was holding the remote like it physically pained him to lift it.

“You could be in the club’s physio room,” she pointed out. “With actual professionals taking care of you.”

Jamie let out a dramatic sigh, rubbing his hand over his face like the mere suggestion exhausted him. “Yeah, but they’re all proper strict and boring. And I don’t like the way they make me do all the exercises in order. I like a bit of flexibility, yeah?”

“What you like is getting me to babysit you.”

His lips curled into a slow, smug grin. “What can I say? You’re my favorite assistant.”

She scoffed. “Idiot, I'm your only assistant.”

“Exactly. That means your job is lookin’ after me.” He reached for the remote again and made a show of wincing. “Ow. That hurt, that.”

“Oh, piss off.”

“No, really. It’s bad, Y/N. So bad.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I could waste away here, just wither from neglect. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience, would ya?”

“Jamie, you’re not dying. You twisted your ankle.”

“You say that, but it feels serious. Could be career-ending.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice in the matter. Ever since Jamie had gone down clutching his ankle in the last match, he had been insistent that she was the only one he could trust to take care of him. Something about her “already knowing his dramatic tendencies” and being “good at keeping him in check.” Which, fine, was technically true, but she was his personal assistant, not his nurse. Although he fucking offered to by her a sexy nurse uniform...

Yet, here she was, spending her evening in his ridiculously big house, watching as he exaggerated his injury like a spoiled child.

“Did you take the painkillers?” she asked, crossing the room to grab the ice pack off the coffee table.

Jamie pouted at her. Actually pouted. “Nah. Didn’t wanna take ‘em without food.”

She let out a long-suffering sigh. “Right. Because you can’t possibly hobble to the kitchen and grab something.”

He grinned. “Now you’re gettin’ it.”

An hour later, after making sure he ate something.

"Protein bars do not count, Jamie."

"That's basically food, love"

She sat cross-legged on the floor beside the couch, replacing his ice pack, while he flicked through Netflix options.

“You’re meant to be resting, not watching telly,” she scolded.

“This is resting.”

“Resting doesn’t require constant entertainment.”

Jamie let out a low chuckle. “Dunno, love. I think I’d get real bored just sittin’ here in silence. Unless you were gonna read to me or some shit. Like in them period dramas Keeley likes.”

She scoffed. “Not happening.”

“Tragic.” He sighed.

5 minutes later the TV was off. But Jamie kept playing with his phone, scrolling aimlessly. “Reckon I should make a dramatic post about my injury?”

“Reckon you should shut up and rest.”

“Oi,” he said, flicking his gaze down to her. “Bit rude.”

“Bit accurate.”

His lips twitched. “Y’know, I think I deserve a little somethin’ for bein’ such a good patient.”

“You are not a good patient.”

“Yeah, I am. I’ve barely complained.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“…Out loud,” he added with a grin. “Anyway, I’m thinkin’ you could help me with my physio. Since I trust you more than them club people.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I feel like you just want an excuse to get a massage out of this.”

His grin turned positively wicked. “You offerin’?”

She groaned. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet you’re still here, so—”

She grabbed the massage oil from the table with a sigh. “Fine. But if you make one inappropriate comment, I’m leaving you to suffer.”

Jamie held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’d never.”

She should have said no. She should have.

But he looked so pleased with himself, and some masochistic part of her wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. Maybe she could pinch his calves...

It started off fine. Innocent, even. She sat at the edge of the couch, her hands carefully pressing into the muscles of his calf, kneading out the tension from his injury. His ankle was still a little swollen, so she was gentle, working her thumbs into the muscle just above the injury, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. Jamie had his head tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted slightly.

Jamie, for once, was silent. Maybe he was asleep?

The room had gone quiet except for the occasional sound of the TV playing some random Netflix series in the background. If she hadn’t known Jamie so well, she might have thought he was actually in pain instead of reveling in the attention.

She was so focused on working out the tension that she didn’t realize she had shifted closer, one knee now resting on the couch between his legs.

Then—

He suddenly made a sound.

A very specific sound.

A low, deep, utterly sinful moan.

Y/N’s hands froze.

Jamie’s eyes snapped open a second later.

They stared at each other.

“…Did you just—”

“No.”

“Yes, you did.”

Jamie’s face turned red, and for once, for once, he looked genuinely flustered. “It weren’t— I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh my god.” Y/N snatched her hands away like he was on fire, scrambling backward, away from his lap.

“Oi, calm down—” Jamie groaned. This time out of embarrassment, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can you not make a big deal outta this?”

She gaped at him, then let out a slow, wicked smile. “Oh, Jamie.” She shook her head. “I absolutely can...not.”

“Y/N—”

“Jamie Tartt,” she announced, standing up dramatically, “moaning from a massage. A massage by ME!”

“Shut up.”

“Moaning like I—”

“I swear to god, Y/N, if you say it—”

“Like I was giving you something else entirely. Oh, I bet you would LOVE THAT!”

Jamie let out a strangled noise. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N.”

She grinned. “Oh, I love this for sure.”

“I don’t.”

“I know. That's like the whole point.” She grabbed her coat, still laughing. “I’m never letting you live this down. You can do the rest of your physio yourself. Or do whatever to yourself, I don't care.”

“But—” He let his head drop back against the cushions with a groan. “Fuckin' hate you.”

“No, you don’t, in fact I think you fuckin' love meee.”

He cracked one eye open, watching as she pulled on her jacket, still smiling like she’d just won the lottery. His mouth twitched.

“Yeah,” he shouted after her. “I really fuckin’ do.”

And she definitely had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling at that.

"Idiot!"

#jamie tartt #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #afc richmond #jamie tartt x y/n #roy kent #jamie tartt imagine #PA x Jamie Tartt

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4milly · 6 months ago

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warm my bed — jey u.

warnings; stalking, oc is delusional but so is jey, continuous break ups, smut, creampie, oc is toxic, dark themes on OC's part, oral (m) receiving, p in v,

parings; black!oc zariah x jey uso

in my head, even if you tell me its over...i'll pretend you told me im your all.

jey let out a harsh breath. all he wanted to do was go inside and have a quiet night in—a little r&r. all of that went down the fucking drain soon as he laid eyes on someone his heart once held love for.

zariah.

lord forgive him, but was she bat shit crazy. in the last year, zariah turned jey's life into a living hell. the jealously was too much for him; cursing him out for interacting with female fans, stealing his phone, hacking into his socials, blocking people, getting into it with instagram ho's in his comments, she even got into an encounter with sexy red leading to her being escorted out the arena.

no matter how many times jey told her, it was only her—and it was—she didn't believe him. but breaking into his house? that was the last straw. he knew he looked crazy in the eyes, when you picked up a pair of panties from in-between the couch cushions and called him everything but a child of God.

and whole time they were hers.

he knew it was best to just call it quits than continue the cycle. so 2 nights ago, he packed up your things and as calm as he could, sent you on your way. in a perfect world? you went peacefully. but nah. in this world? you smashed his car windows and keyd your name into the side door.

you loved jey. truthfully! could you get a little crazy sometimes? sure. but in zariah's mind, her actions were justified. after all, jey was hers—her soulmate, her destiny. she'd known it from the moment they locked eyes across that crowded club last year. the electricity that crackled between them, the way the world seemed to fade away until it was just the two of them—that was fate. and fate couldn't be denied.

jey's head fell in his hands at the sight of zariah standing in his kitchen cooking...nothing but her apron covering her, "finally! i've been waiting, c'mere baby."

didn't he take her set of keys?

part of jey wanted to scoop her up, take her inside, and forget this whole bullshit. the way her ass curved perfectly, that small butterfly tattoo on her lower back, and the smell of her juices...he wanted to rip that apron right off her. but the rational part of his brain—the part that remembered the broken windows and the scratched-up car—kept him rooted to the spot.

"z, y'know you ain't supposed to be her. y'know that shit."

but zariah wasn't havin' it. she stepped closer, perfume wrapping around him like a familiar blanket, "how was work, baby?"

was her ears clogged or sum? she know her ass heard him. "z, what are doing here?"

confusion and betrayal flashed across zariah's eyes, "baby, i'm home. where else would i be? i cooked your favorite, daddy...and I can't wait to feed everything to you."

fuck, he loved that shit.

jey felt his resolve waverin'. the way she looked at him, all big eyes and pouty lips, had his mind spinnin'. for a hot second, he almost believed her—almost forgot the chaos of the past year, the constant drama, the jealousy that ate away at their relationship like acid.

zariah slid her arms around his waist pulling him to her. he felt her hardened nipples poking at him through the cottoned fabric, "z, when i packed yo shit, that met we done. im tired of this shit witcho ass."

zariah ain't give up that easy though. she pressed her body against his, soft curves meltin' into his hard muscles, "we both know you're lying. why don't i take this apron off? hm? i'm always so ready for you daddy. i'll let you cum anywhere you want."

jey's breath caught in his throat as she nibbled on his earlobe, sending shivers down his spine. his body was betraying him, responding to her touch like it always did.

"nah, z. we can't keep doin' this," he protested weakly, but his hands found their way to her hips anyway, "we do this every other week."

before he could stop her, she was on her knees, lookin' up at him with those big doe eyes. her freshly painted manicured fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper.

"z, hold up—" jey started, but the words died in his throat as she freed him from his boxers.

zariah licked her lips, eyes locked on his as she stroked him. "mm, i missed this dick, baby."

jey's head fell back as she took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling around him like she was tryna map every inch. the warm wetness of her mouth enveloped him.

z's lips wrapped around him tight, her tongue working magic as she took him deeper. jey couldn't help the low groan that escaped him, his fingers tangling in her hair.

"fuck, baby," he breathed, hips bucking involuntarily

z hummed around him, the vibrations sending sparks through his body. she pulled off with a pop, lookin' up at him with fire in her eyes. "that's right, daddy. this is my dick. it's all mine." her hand kept stroking him as she spoke, her grip firm and sure making sure to pull on the fat mushroomed tip.

before jey could respond, she took him deep again, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked hard. her free hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently as she bobbed her head.

jey's hips started moving on their own, thrusting into the wet heat of her mouth. jey knew he shoulda stopped this, but his body was on autopilot now. she swallowed him down again, taking him to the back of her throat. jey's knees nearly buckled as she worked him over, her head bobbin' up and down while her hand twisted at the base.

her tongue swirled around his tip before she took him back in, moaning around his length. the vibrations had jey seeing stars, "goddamn, girl." he panted feeling his legs shake and his stomach tighten

when his toes began to curl in his shoes, jey powered to find one active brain cell. he began to shake his head, "zariah stop! ah, shit i'm finna—"

she pulled off again, jerking him with her hand as she spoke, "shh. you see how good i make you feel? nobody can make you feel like this. you're all mine."

z's mouth was back on him, suckin' him like her life depended on it. her tongue swirled around the tip before she took him deep again, throat relaxing to take all of him. her free hand snaked around to grab his ass, pulling him deeper.

jey threw his head back on a moan, when she tickled that spot underneath his balls, causing him to erupt into her mouth. his grip on her hair tightened as he kept shooting spurts out. zariah gave him small sucks; ensuring he emptied ever piece of doubt of their relationship into her throat.

the sight of her heavily glossed covered lips suctioned around his dick gave him nothing but guilt. he should've kicked her ass out for this shit. how does someone destroy his car, breaks into his house, and sucks the soul from his dick in less than 72 hours?

zariah smirked up at jey, a string of cum connecting her lips to his softening dick. "that was just the appetizer, baby," she purred, rising to her feet

before jey's post-nut clarity could kick in, zariah was pushing him backwards. he stumbled, legs weak, 'til the back of his knees hit the couch and he fell onto it with her straddling him with a wild look in her eyes.

"i ain't done with you yet, daddy," she giggled, grinding against him. even though he just came, jey felt himself getting hard again.

"z, hold up—" jey started, but she silenced him with a deep kiss, her tongue swirling in his mouth. she tasted like strawberries and his own cum, a combination that had his head spinning

"shh, baby," zariah whispered against his lips. "just let me take care of you."

she reached between them, guiding him to her entrance. jey groaned as she sank down on him, her wet heat comforting him inch by inch. his hands gripped her hips on instinct, fingers digging into her soft flesh.

"fuck, z," he breathed as she started to move, rolling her hips in a slow, torturous rhythm

jey's head was racing and still hazy, caught between the floaty feeling of his orgasm and the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him this was a bad idea. but damn if zariah didn't feel this good, he could've pushed her off.

"you see how good we are together?" zariah whispered, her lips brushing against his ear, "how we're made for each other?"

he could barely speak with her pussy clentching around him like that. zariah picked up the pace, riding jey hard and fast. her hips moved in tight circles, grinding down on him with each stroke. jey's eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by the sensation. his hands roamed her body, gripping her ass and kneading her breast as she bounced on his lap. muscle memory taking over as he cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. zariah threw her head back with a moan, arching into his touch.

"that's right, daddy," she breathed, "touch me. i'm all yours."

she picked up the pace, riding him faster, harder. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by their heavy breathing and occasional moans. jey felt like he was floating. her walls hugged his dick just right. he moved his hips to meet your owns.

he let out a grunt as he felt that familiar clench in his abdomen again, "shit! you take it so good, z. imma nut again. fuck! slow down, z."

zariah threw her head back, crying out in pleasure as her own release neared. you manage to slip your hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, "fuck, baby! yes, just like that!"

the couch creaked beneath them, barely able to withstand their frenzied movements. his hips kept thrusting up to meet her, chasing that sweet release.

she bounced' on his dick like her life depended on it. the sound of skin slapping' filled the room, mixed with their heavy breathing and low moans.

"tell me you're mine," zariah demanded, her voice breathy but firm. "say it, jey. tell me you belong to me. this pussy belongs to you, and you belong to me."

she was chasing her own release, but she was determined to make him cum first. her walls clenched around him, milking' his dick like she was tryna squeeze every last drop outta him. and she was.

he loved how you squeezed his length as loud mewls escaped your throat. your stomach dropped and your hips shuddered as he went deeper.

"i'm yours, mama. i'm all yours, baby. shit! z, i love yo crazy ass." he gasped out

jey's hips bucked up involuntarily, meeting her thrust for thrust. His hands gripped her ass tight, guiding her movements as he felt his second orgasm approaching fast.

a triumphant smile spread across zariah's face as she clamped down onto him with a whimper, flooding him with her orgasm. she slipped her tongue into his mouth and let out a groan as he released every drop of his cum into her without thinking twice.

they stayed like that for a moment. as the fog of pleasure began to clear, reality came crashing down on jey like a bucket of ice water. he blinked, suddenly all too aware of the situation he'd let himself get into. zariah was still on top of him, her body slick with sweat, kissing down his neck, a satisfied smile on her face, and their cum seeping onto his couch.

"fuck," Jey muttered, gently pushing her off him. "z, this…this can't happen again. i'm forreal."

what the fuck had he just done?

he'd let her in again, let her work her magic on him like always. and now here they were, right back where they started. jey groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"baby, what's wrong?" zariah murmured, nuzzling into his neck

jey stood up, fumbling to pull his pants back on. his head was spinning, guilt and regret mixing with the lingering pleasure. "nah, z. this? was a mistake. you gotta go, ma."

zariah's expression darkened. "what do you mean, 'a mistake'? you just told me you loved me. you said you were mine."

"I wasn't thinkin' straight. i ain't a fuckin' prize, z." jey ran a hand over his face. "look, i meant what i said before. we're done. forreal this time. ight? getcho stuff, i'll take you anywhere you wanna go."

zariah's face dropped, her sweet demeanor evaporating in an instant, "we belong together, jey! y'know we do. y'think, i'm gonna let all those little insta ho's have you? so easy? no! you're mine. what? you wanna move one of those bitches in?"

"oh my fucking god, mane! y'see? this that shit i'm calm bout, zariah! this jealousy shit! i ain't fuckin' no other bitches, yet yo ass can't see that shit! i'm tired of yo ass, bruh."

jey turned around to gather her stuff. he met what he said; zariah had to get her shit and go. and she had to leave naked? that's fine, too. when he heard a sniffle behind his back, he exasperated. here come this fake ass cryin'.

"i hate you so bad, jey," she sobbed, "i love you so much it hurts. all i want to know is if you still love me. if you're still inlove with me, josh...but, at least get me towel,"

jey sighed, shoulders slumping as he turned back to face zariah. his words caught in his throat as his eyes landed on her splayed out on the couch, legs spread wide.

their mixed cum was seeping out of her swollen pussy, glistening in the low light. it dripped down onto the expensive leather, creating a messy puddle. she ran a hand down her body, fingertips trailing over her breast, down her stomach, until they reached her slick folds.

"look what you did to me, daddy," she whined out, still sniffling her tears away. she dipped two fingers inside herself, coating them in their combined fluids before bringing them to her lips. her tongue darted out, licking them clean as she maintained eye contact with jey.

zariah knew exactly what buttons to push, how to play him like a finely-tuned instrument—

"i promise, i'll stop being bad." she pouted, sucking her fingers coated with her slick into her mouth

how many times has he heard that shit before?

—she always had.

🏷️: @caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @luvrsluxe @uceyliyahh @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @acknowledge-reigns @southerngirl41 @prettyfilmz @jaza23 @usoinked @punksyeet @fearlesschimera @holycollectivekitty @tribalhoochie

to be added for future writings, comment! don’t forget to like and reblog 🩷

this will be 3 (maybe 4) part fic, so warnings will update as we go. this fic will have some dark themes, as i’ve been inspired by @shes2real to embrace a few of them tbh😩🙏.

and in honor of my birthday being on the 15th (this wednesday) here is a treat!

xoxo, cleo.

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morgluvsconnie · 1 year ago

Text

BOUND, c.springer

chap.6 | smut, mentions of violence, angst if you squint, comfort. | chap.5

"which one of yall know where reiner at?"

connie breathed hardly through his nose as no one had an answer. "it wasn't even him." you tried to calm connie down, but it seemed like the more you tried, the madder he got.

"stop saying that shit."

you furrowed your eyebrows, cursing at yourself internally from the amount of drama this was about to cause. not only for you, but for connie too. you remembered what reiner said he'd do, and as much as you wanted somebody to beat his ass, deep down you didnt wanna see connie get hurt.

"ion wanna get you involved in something that has nothing to do with you." you mumbled loud enough for connie to hear.

as he speed walked around almost the whole club, coming to a stopping point, connie turned around and looked at you.

"where he stay at?"

"im not telling you that."

"then tell me what happened." connie pursed his lips together, putting his hands in his pants pockets. you looked to the side and sighed. "i dont feel like it."

"y/n stop actin fucking stubborn and tell me what happened. stop actin like reiner supposed to be somebody im scared of." connie frowned at you. "shouldn’t no boy be putting his hands on a female, especially somebody like you."

you looked to the ground. as much as you didnt wanna hear him out, you listened to his words, taking in the compliment. unknowingly staying silent, connie grabbed your hand and walked you to his car. "im takin you home. you gon explain what happened, and ima do what i do." connie opened the car door for you with a sigh.

he walked to the other side, getting in and starting the car, glancing at you.

you didnt even wanna look at him.

pure anger is what filled his eyes, even if he tried his best not to show it.

even if he tried to make it seem like the second main reason he was defending you wasnt because he cared about you.

you stared at the window as connie drove to your house, getting out after those regular three minutes.

you opened your door and walked in. so much for staying out the rest of the night. "you really dont gotta do nothing connie, ion wanna get you involved." you tilted your head at him as he sat on the glass table in front of your couch, where you sat.

he didnt even reply to that.

and youd hate to admit he was the main cause of the situation, but all because of a big misunderstanding.

you crossed your arms with almost a pouty expression. you were still half drunk.

"what happened." connie asked, staring at you with his elbows resting on his knees. it wasnt even a question, it was more of a demand.

you stayed silent while looking at the ground.

you’d hate to cry all over again. you didnt even wanna explain what he did, in fear of him manhandling you all over again. what if connie wasn’t here and he came? what if he got more aggressive? what if y/n...

y/n

"y/n"

you looked up with slightly raised eyebrows, connie still waiting for you to answer his question.

"he..." you tried to remember from the beginning. "dont do anything connie... like for real.

"im not." connie stared lazily at you.

"he came to my house... yesterday i think. and... he started yelling at me" you paused and looked at connie. "about you."

connies expression slightly changed.

"he basically thinks we go together because of the dude that came up to me that night we talked. and he said he didn’t wanna see us together." you looked at the ground again.

"what, he must gon beat my ass?" connie leaned back a little, staring at you with a slightly confused expression. you sighed softly. "thats what he said."

"oh." connies eyes fell on your wrist, softening them. "so what he touch you for?"

you shrugged.

connie looked back at you, biting his lip a little. he bit his cheek as you looked up at him. thats when he stood up. "come here." he mumbled. you stood up. "where yo room at?" connie stretched.

you gave him a confused look for a second before going upstairs towards your room. as you opened your door, you stood to the side, letting him in. connie looked around your room for a few seconds before taking off his hoodie, putting it on your vanity.

as he walked over to your bed, he sat on the edge.

"c'mere." he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

you walked over to connie, standing in front of him. there was no doubt he was still slightly intoxicated. but he knew what he was doing, and he knew how to control his self.

connie looked at you, your face first, his eyes roaming yours, your lips, your whole face. he trailed all the way down your body, forcing himself not to look at that, now, visible hand print on your wrist.

when he made his way to your feet, he looked back up at you, licking his lips.

"can i?" he asked in a quiet tone.

you slowly nodded, knowing exactly what he was referring to.

connie brought his hands to your waist, hips, thighs, like you were a doll, but not a toy. in his eyes,

"you so damn beautiful." he mumbled. "thought that since the night i gave you that tattoo. you know that?" he kept his eyes on your face. "come on." he mumbled, reaching down to untie the strings on the back of your leg, both of them.

you stepped out of your shoes, staring at connie with soft eyes. those eyes hes been wanting to see in private every time you flashed them at him.

he stood up, softly sitting you down on your bed, getting in front of you. your faces got closer, your eyes moving from his eyes to his lips every second. "i wanna kiss you." you said in barely a whisper. it was really only supposed to be a thought. but damn.

connie licked his lips, looking at yours. before you knew it, your lips touched, the light taste of alcohol on your lips and his lips. connie groaned a little at the feeling of your lips on his.

as you leaned back, you pulled him in with you, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck, soft breaths leaving your lips as you felt him softly suck hickeys on your collarbone and chest.

your hand rested on the back of his head, he glanced up at you, his hands moving down to your hips as he pulled you closer to him, slightly spreading your legs with the movement.

"we gon take this off, okay?" connie got up, reaching towards your shoulder to pull your jumpsuit down. you nodded with a small giggle, making connie smile a little. when he finally got your jumpsuit to your ankles, a little help from you, he placed it to the side, admiring your body from beneath him.

"how could somebody hurt something as perfect as you?"

your lips slightly parted, but you didnt have any words. no ones ever admired you as much as connie did. you got compliments here and there, but right now, he was basically worshiping you. with his eyes furrowed, throwing his head back at that aching sensation he had, connies hand moved down to his pants, him groaning softly before looking back down at you.

the way you looked at him with those pleading eyes.

he could just cum right there.

as he grabbed your thighs, pulling you towards him, he got off the bed, dropping his pants to his knees and pulling out his throbbing cock, precum already leaking from the tip. and you? you were practically dripping.

"c'mon connie, stop teasing me..." you said in almost a whine. connie chuckled a little at you. what were you doing to him?

he was almost practically teasing his self.

as he reached towards your panties, pulling them to the side to see how wet he'd made you, he exhaled, closing his eyes as he slowly stretched you out, you, softly whining at the pain.

"bigger than yo last, huh. i know, its okay." he mumbled, thrusting just once, and that already sent you over the edge. "fu-ck.." you closed your eyes and grabbed his wrists.

"i know, pretty. you can handle my dick, i know you can." he bit his lip, slowly thrusting in and out of you. "you’re so... big.." you moaned, opening your eyes just to barely look at him. "mhm..." connie hummed before quickening the pace. "loosen up... c'mon." he groaned at how tight you were.

it wasnt a problem of course, but he wanted to make sure you got more pleasure out of this than he did.

as he fucked you at a nice pace, he leaned down a little, you moving your hips against him, feeling him even deeper inside of you. "ah, fuckkk.." you threw your head back. as connie thrusted even deeper inside of you, he rubbed your hips, pulling you closer with every thrust, hitting your sweet spot every time.

"connie..." you moaned. "'s too much..."

"uh-huh" connie bit his lip, slowing down. but not to slow down for you. he flipped you over, pushing your back into an arch. "shit!" you moaned louder as you felt him forcefully thrust into you, a grin forming on his face as he heard you carelessly and endlessly moan his name.

it was like music to his ears.

"f-fuck, connie!" you gripped the sheets, feeling your back start to ache a little, feeling the pleasure running through your stomach, legs, pussy, everywhere.

"you ever... hah... been fucked this good mama? huh?" connie said in slight pant, nails digging into your hips and ass. "no..." you furrowed your eyebrows. "use that pretty mouth the way you always do."

you felt a sharp pain on your left cheek, making you arch your back and cry out. “no!” you let your eyes roll to the back of your head, reaching back to make connie slow down.

connie grabbed your wrist, only using it to pull you harder as he pulled out his phone.

“you wanna show reiner what he can’t do? hm?” he cooed. you were almost drooling, dumb with dick, you had no idea what he was saying until you looked back, seeing connie’s phone out.

“uh-huh” you said without thought. connie cheesed, pressing the record button on his phone, giving him a chance to fuck you even harder, the sound of your ass slapping his stomach and your whines filling the room.

“you like that?” connie threw his head back, the phone nearly shaky with the feeling of his dick twitching inside of you.

“yesss” you started to move your body against him, fucking him back. connie’s hand went from your hip, down to your clit, rubbing it softly, all while still recording.

“can reiner do this?”

you basically jolted forward at the feeling, your legs getting weaker at the feeling of his middle finger gently rubbing your clit. he could feel you tighten against him every few seconds. as you replied with a whiney no, connie groaned, looking down at the phone.

“you want me to whoop his ass? hmm mama?” connie’s hand slid down your back and to your neck, pulling you against him forcefully as he pounded into you.

ugly (beautiful to him), groany moans spilling from your throat. “ah, yes, please” your eyes glued closed as you felt the phone being tossed to the side of the bed.

with one hand holding your hips up and another hand holding your neck, your arms stretched in front of you, twisting the sheets in your hand as you felt yourself start to shake, going completely silent, nothing but soft, barely audible moans coming from your lips with every thrust.

“shittt” connie pulled out of you, your body collapsing on the bed as you felt his warm stringy cum on your back. “you did so good mama.” connie squeezed your thigh before fixing his pants and walking to the bathroom to grab tissues.

after cleaning you up, connie walked out of the bathroom, head slightly tilting as he looked at you, almost fully asleep across the bed. smiling a little, connie walked over to you, sitting beside you and leaning back a little, seeing if you were fully asleep.

“aye.” connie laughed a little at the sight of you. completely slumped over his dick. if anything he felt honored.

“look at yo track.” he smiled, lifting a track in your head that was only hanging on by a thread. “you still so pretty.” he mumbled. you hummed in response, a small smile creeping onto your face. “ima leave for the night tho, ight?” as connie was about to get up you stopped him.

to say the least, even after everything, you knew he sent that video to reiner, and you knew reiner would not only try to get to connie, but he’d get you first.

“just stay the night. you don’t needa be going home this late.” you dragged your words. even though that wasn’t the complete reason you wanted him to stay.

connie sat back down and slowly nodded. “ight. ima see if i got some clothes in the car first.” he said, poking your side, making you jump a little.

“don’t wait up pretty.” he mumbled before walking out of your room.

chap.7

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 7 months ago

Text

🎄 Under The Mistletoe 🎄

Someone in Hellfire plays matchmaker between you and Eddie ❤️ Featuring mischievous Hellfire members, pesky mistletoe and lots of fluff 🎄

Going to open my requests for a little while so if you have any holiday requests then let me know. 💌

🎄❄️

There's a very good reason. Why the holiday season is a wonderful time. For a boy and girl to fall in love.

Cause Santa and Cupid, planned exactly what you did, When you kissed me by the mistletoe above.

We stood there kissin' by the mistletoe. Tingle, tingle. Muah, muah, muah, and away we go, jingle, jingle.

Kissin' by the mistletoe, love came to stay and now it's Christmas every day.

Aretha Franklin - Kissing by the mistletoe 🎄

❄️🎄

Christmas had arrived in Hawkins. The snow was falling casting in the town in an image of a perfect winter wonderland. All Eddie had heard for the last couple of days was festive tunes and jingles, he did like Christmas but this was a bit much.

He couldn't exactly say that he had the best Christmas growing up, when his mom was around it felt special to him, she adored Christmas and Eddie loved that it made her happy.

Then he was left with just his old man and those were the worst times, Uncle Wayne was his bubble of safety and normality then and now. Thanks to uncle Wayne his love of Christmas has returned slowly.

Did that mean he wanted to be driven crazy by hiliday tunes? No. Then there was his enemy of the season. Mistletoe.

All week he had seen giggly, kissing and loved up couples, they were driving him mad. It made him grumpy and twitchy and he avoided the cursed plant like the plague.

At least when he was in the drama club and safely ensconced in all things Hellfire Club related he could relax. He had spent some time earlier setting up for the campaign and it was a good one, a mini adventure which was Christmas themed of course and very exciting.

For a few hours he could be in total DM mode and nothing mistletoe related could happen...

🎄⛄

At five o'clock on the dot Dustin arrived with Lucas and Mike, then everyone else hurried in. Eddie ignores the way his heart skips a beat when he sees you.

"Gentlemen and ladies welcome to this special edition of Hellfire, where we can enjoy the delights of our new festive themed quest and avoid the evil plants of doom... I swear If I see one more hint of mistletoe I'll..."

"Eddie" you say softly and that captures his attention as you point up to the ceiling, he stops mid-rant and his eyes bug out as he sees the mistletoe hung above him. No. Jesus H Christ, no.

The mistletoe was directly above you and Eddie.

His eyes narrow and he looks around the room immediately suspicious, Jeff and Gareth are sniggering to themselves but stop at the look on his face.

"Who did this?" he hisses to the rest of the group and looks at each of them in turn. No one is owning up to putting the mistletoe there and that frustrates him even more because that dreaded thing wasn't there at any other point of the day.

It wasn't there when he was setting up earlier, no pesky mistletoe was in sight and yet now it was just casually hanging above his head, directly above his chair. "That wasn't here earlier, so one of you little shits did this" he snaps.

He could feel himself sweating as you peered up at him, fuck. It's not like he didn't want to kiss you, he really wanted to but he highly doubted that you wanted to kiss him. Why would you?

"We don't have to do this" he says to you, he would never want you to feel pressured into kissing him. He was going to kill (the character) of whoever did this in the most violent way possible.

"Eddie" the way you say his name makes his knees turn to jelly, his usual confidence and don't give a fuck attitude is long gone and now he's terrified.

You see Eddie was totally smitten with you but didn't realise you were equally smitten with him. Which is what brings us to mischievous elves (Hellfire members) plotting this escapade.

Then your lips meet his and he swears his brain short circuits just for a second, he melts into the kiss and then he's kissing you back and you let out a soft moan that goes straight to uh...places and he wants nothing more than to just keep kissing you.

"Ugh that's enough dude, gross" Mike groans and Eddie reluctantly pulls away from you, feels pleased with himself that your lips are all kiss bitten and your eyes mirroring his in complete lust and adoration.

"About time" Gareth sags in relief, now the two of you could stop tiptoeing around your feelings for one another. Eddie sends him a death glare but completely softens when you take his hand and lean across to whisper in his ear.

"We're totally doing more of that later" your gaze is full of need and a tiny bit of mischief and it may be the first time that Eddie has ever wanted to speed run through a campaign. He couldn't wait for later but for now he had to get into DM mode.

If only you would stop looking at him like that, all impish and beautiful then he might be able to concentrate.

While he's making moon eyes at you for a few seconds Dustin, Erica, Lucas and Mike huddle together and discreetly high five.

"Mission accomplished" Dustin beams until Erica frowns and lets out an exasperated huff. "Yeah sure, like you bunch of nerds could have done this without me" Lucas is about to argue but Erica stops him.

"Nope, don't say a word dumbass. I hung the mistletoe because I'm not afraid of Munson like you three are, so this is down to me" She takes a mini bow and leaves the three boys gawking at her as Eddie finally starts the session.

🎄❄️⛄

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #christmas #christmas fic

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bunny-hwa · 6 months ago

Text

Popular, Boy

☆04: The first surrender.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!reader

Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 8,5k

Summary: Alliances and secrets simmer beneath the surface as relationships are tested. Whispers of a returning precense cast shadow over your carefully controlled world.

Amid growing tension, nothing is as it seems, and trust becomes a dangerous gamble.

Warnings: Cursing, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, fluff, SMUT (MDN!!) Virgin! Hongjoong, oral (f receiving) fingering, hair pulling, cum eating, use of pet names (good boy, baby, babe, pretty) suggestive.

Series masterlist

☆03 ☆05

YN♡: I hope you enjoy your return to the losers’ club, ungrateful pet.

Those words feel like a slap in the face, but there's a part of him that can't deny the sting of guilt. Hongjoong had stood up to you, and now, he was being pushed away.

He feels conflicted, like he's torn between two sides of himself.

On one hand, you have everything he’s always wanted, popularity, control, power. On the other hand, he can’t help but feel a flicker of empathy for Dann, even if it’s not enough to overpower his desire to keep his place in your world.

The past three days have been agonizing for Hongjoong. Your cold text still lingered in his mind, your words cutting deeper than he expected.

He wasn’t sure what stung more: being labeled an 'ungrateful pet' or the realization that you had the power to decide his social fate.

In the hallways, the change was immediate and brutal. Your circle avoided him entirely, with Mindy, Wooyoung and the others offering smug smirks or outright ignoring his greetings.

The glances from the rest of the school stung even more, whispers of, 'Guess YN dumped her charity case,' followed him everywhere.

Hongjoong tried to go back to his old routine, hanging out with Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho and Dann in the library, but it wasn’t the same. The nerdy jokes and shared interests felt hollow, overshadowed by his embarrassment.

He couldn’t stop feeling like he’d failed… failed you, failed himself, and maybe even failed Dann.

“Joong, are you okay?” Dann’s voice pulls him from his thoughts during lunch.

Her gaze is soft but cautious. He knows she is trying to reconnect with him, but guilt twists in his stomach.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He mumbles, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth to avoid saying more.

But Dann isn’t convinced. She has noticed how his shoulders slump when your table erupts into laughter or how his eyes flicker toward you every time you walk by, as if waiting for something.

Was he regretting standing up for her? She wondered, unsure whether to feel gratitude or guilt herself.

✮ ⋆

Brat woo: Party at my place tonight, babydoll!! We’re gonna get lit!!

You smirk as you read Wooyoung's text. Typical of Woo, his personality is always bright and comfy.

You bit your lip, twirling a strand of your perfectly styled hair as an idea formed in your mind.

YN: Invite Hongjoong, too.

The three dots appear almost immediately, followed by Woo’s response.

Brat woo: Babydoll, why would I invite him?

Brat woo: Isn’t he banned from your bad bitches club?

You laugh at his last message as you lean back against your plush chair, crossing one leg over the other. Your perfectly manicured nails taps the edge of your phone as you craft a reply.

YN: Yeah, but invite him.

YN: It would be fun, babe.

Brat woo: Fine. But you owe me a blowjob, doll.

You scoff rolling your eyes, and you prefer not to bother replying. You knew Wooyoung well enough to predict he’d follow through.

You lock your phone and you get up to head to your closet, it's time to look for something cute to wear tonight.

✮ ⋆

His first instinct was to assume it was a mistake. Jung Wooyoung wasn’t his friend. The last party held at his house was amazing and he treated him like they were friends for years, but it was only because he was with you... but not anymore.

Hongjoong read the message again, searching for some hidden sarcasm or trap.

J Wooyoung: Party at my place tonight, you must come.

Why would Wooyoung invite him?

Was this a chance to prove himself again? To get back into your orbit? The thought makes his chest tighten with both excitement and dread.

His phone buzzes with another text, this time from Dann.

Dann: Hey, wanna hang out tonight? We could watch that weird series you’ve been talking about.”

He hesitates, guilt creeping in. Spending time with Dann sounded comfortable, easy, even, but the allure of Jung’s party looms large in his mind. And then, an idea struck him.

He quickly types a reply.

Joong: Actually, wanna come with me to a party tonight?

Dann: What? A party? With whom?

Joong: Jung Wooyoung invited me.

Joong: It’s at his place. You should come.

His reply is almost casually, as if it weren’t a big deal. There is a pause before Dann’s next message comes through.

Dann: Joong, that sounds… weird. Why would Wooyoung invite you? And why are YOU inviting me?

Dann: I remind you that the last time I went to a party, everything went wrong!

Hongjoong frowns, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He didn't think that far ahead, but now that Dann brought it up, the invite does seem odd. Still, he can't let her skepticism damp his resolve.

Joong: Does it matter? It’s a party, Dann. It could be fun. We haven’t done anything like this in forever.”

Dann: I don’t know…

Joong: Come on!! It’ll be fine.

Joong: You’ll be with me the whole time.

Joong: If it sucks, we can leave.

Another pause, longer this time. Finally, her reply comes through.

Dann: Okay… I’ll go.

Dann: But if this turns into some kind of disaster, you owe me, Joong.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He tosses his phone into the bed and starts rifling through his closet, searching for something that looks remotely party-appropriate.

This is it, he thought, half to reassure himself. This is my chance to prove I’m not just a nobody anymore.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The party is already in full swing when you step through the door, your entrance commanding attention as always.

Wooyoung is the first to greet you, slinging an arm over your shoulder in a casual, brotherly way.

“About time, babydoll.” He teases, steering you further into the house “You’ve got people asking for you already.”

You smirk, brushing a perfectly styled strand of hair from your face.

“Good. Let them wait. it builds anticipation.”

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the crowd of familiar faces. The thrum of music, the faint haze of smoke, and the sharp scent of expensive cologne feel like home. But tonight, it’s not the crowd you’re interested in.

“Did you do it?”

He glances at your sideways, catching the subtle edge in your voice “Yeah, I invited him. He is coming, right?” Woo asks casually, though there’s a glint of mischief in his tone.

You nod, lips curving into a sly smile “Of course he will. Thanks for the invite.”

“Anything for you, Queen Bee.” Woo chuckles, patting your shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

You barely take two steps before Seonghwa appears in your path, leaning casually against the doorframe of the kitchen as if he’s been waiting.

“You really showed up.” He says, his tone teetering between disbelief and sarcasm.

“Obviously, miss out on this? Never.”

His sharp eyes rake over you, the casual air he projects cracking just slightly.

“So, you brought him here?”

You lift your chin, feigning innocence “Who?”

“You know who,” Hwa says, his voice dropping “The nerd.”

“Oh, him. He’s just part of the fun, but he is not coming with me today.”

“Fun,” Hwa repeats bitterly, stepping closer “That’s what you’re calling it?”

You don't back down “You’re awfully concerned for someone who’s supposed to be done with me.”

The jab hits, and Hwa’s jaw tightens “We’ve been through a lot, Clarke. I know how you operate, and this is reckless—even for you.”

“Reckless?” You scoff, taking a deliberate step toward him “Spare me the lecture, Seonghwa. If you’re so worried, maybe you should focus on your own vices. Or do you need me to remind you how much recklessness you’ve been indulging in lately?”

His eyes narrow, his jaw clenched “You always twist things around, don’t you?”

You tilt your head, a flicker of amusement dancing in your gaze “Only when necessary.”

The tension between them hums like a live wire, but before either can escalate further, you sigh and soften your tone.

“Look, Hwa, I get it. You’re mad because I’ve been spending time with Hongjoong. But you and I both know this—whatever this is—doesn’t have to be like this.”

Seonghwa’s perfect brows knit together, his posture relaxing just slightly “And what’s ‘this,’ YN? Because it feels like we’re always walking the same damn line.”

“Friends,” You say firmly, though your voice carries a hint of warmth “We’ve been friends forever, haven’t we? Almost more than friends, at times. I’m not throwing that away just because we’ve hit a rough patch.”

He studies you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he exhales and runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well, you’ve always been good at getting under my skin. Guess I should be used to it by now.”

You smile, a real one this time “You should. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean for things to get so tense between us. Truce?”

Hwa hesitates but eventually extends a hand, his lips quivering into a faint smirk-

“Truce. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook completely.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” You say, shaking his hand briefly before pulling him into a quick hug.

As they pull apart, Wooyoung reappears, his grin as wide as ever “See? Told you it’s a party, not a courtroom.”

Both of you laugh, the tension finally dissipating. After all, you've been friends since you were kids, fighting over who got the best gifts or who got the most toys during Christmas.

Yes, maybe fights always were and will always be frequent, but the bond you created will always be there, whether as friends or as lovers. And no one can deny it.

✮ ⋆

The laughter still bubbles around you and friends as you relax on the plush couch in the middle of the buzzing party. The low hum of music blends with the chatter of your friends, creating the perfect backdrop for your carefree moment.

You perched elegantly with your cocktail in hand, tossing your hair back with a playful smirk.

“Remember when you told everyone I cried about losing that silly bet when we went to Meeru Island in the Maldives?” Mingi says, aiming a mock glare at Wooyoung.

He chuckles, shrugging. “You did cry, Mingi. Like, full-on wailing. I saved you from complete humiliation by telling everyone you were faking it.”

“You’re insufferable, Woo.” You lean forward to swat at him, but your grin betrays your amusement.

San joins you, plopping down on the armrest beside Seonghwa, his beer in hand.

“God, you two never change. Should we get you a reality show or something?”

Mingi rolls his eyes but laughs along, the tension from you and Hwa's little fight seemingly evaporating. It’s like old times again, your rhythm unshaken.

Then Woo’s gaze shifts toward the entrance, and his playful expression stiffens slightly.

“Uh… you told me to invite him, but I didn’t think he’d actually show up.”

You follow Wooyoung’s line of sight, your smile freezing as you spot Hongjoong stepping into the house. His attempts at looking casual—down to his carefully chosen shirt and forced grin—betray the nerves he’s clearly trying to hide.

But it’s not just him. Dann is with him, hovering awkwardly at his side.

Seonghwa notices too, his smirk turning razor-sharp “Well, if it isn’t the exile. You sure know how to pick your projects, Clarke.”

Your grip on the empty glass tightens ever so slightly before you recover, placing it calmly on the coffee table. You rise with an air of detachment, smoothing your short silk black dress.

“Don’t start, Hwa.”

Hwa leans back, watching you with an amused glint “I don’t need to. This show writes itself.”

Ignoring him, you stride toward the entrance, movements deliberate, your heels clicking against the polished floor.

Hongjoong’s face lights up with hope when he sees you approach, but you don't acknowledge it.

“Enjoying the party?” You ask coolly, your gaze sweeping over both Hongjoong and Dann.

“Uh, yeah,” He says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly “Thanks for—”

“Wooyoung invited you,” You interrupt, your eyes flick to Dann, your lips curving into a smile that’s anything but friendly “Didn’t realize you’d be bringing… extras.”

Dann stiffens under your gaze “I just came because Joong—”

“I didn’t ask,” You cut her off smoothly. your focus shifts back to Hongjoong “Enjoy the party, and stay out of my way.”

Before Hongjoong can respond, you turn on your heel, heading back to the couch where all your friends are waiting, barely containing their laughter.

“That was subtle.” Mingi teases as you sit back down.

You pick up another drink and take a long sip, your face calm but your mind racing. You had ordered Jung to invite him, but seeing him here, with Dann of all people, scratches at your carefully curated control.

Seonghwa leans closer, his voice low “Trying to make him mad, huh? Gotta admit, it’s fun to watch.”

You don't reply, your gaze lingering on Kim as he and Dann hover near the edge of the room. The party continues to swirl around you, but the game you’re playing tonight is only just beginning.

“Let's go dance.”

And without waiting for an answer, you drag Seonghwa to the center of the dance floor.

✮ ⋆

The party pulses around Hongjoong, but all he can see is you. You were radiant, laughing as you danced with Seonghwa, your hand grazing his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Weren't you supposed to be on bad terms? He threatened you a few days ago and now you act as if none of that has happened.

Every glance, every touch, feels like a slap to Hongjoong’s face, and when your eyes meet his for a brief moment across the room, he knows it wasn’t accidental.

Dann stands beside him, trying to engage him in conversation or distract him with sarcastic comments about the crowd, but he barely responds.

His guilt over snapping at her earlier only adds to the storm brewing inside him.

As the night goes on, you and Seonghwa grow bolder. You dance closer, bodies pressing together in a way that feels almost taunting. Your hand trails lazily over Hwa’s chest as you throw a sly glance over your shoulder, directly at Hongjoong.

He can't take it anymore.

“I need a minute.” He mutters to Dann before walking away.

He finds you in the corner of the room, laughing at something Seonghwa had said. Your head tilts back, the sparkle in your eyes brighter than ever. You look utterly in control, utterly untouchable.

“YN.” Hongjoong says, his voice tight.

You turn to him, your expression cool and unimpressed “Hongjoong, enjoying the party?”

“I…” He hesitates, glancing at the tallest, who stands smirking at him like he knows exactly how pathetic he feels.

“Spit it out.” You cross your arms waiting for his next words.

Hongjoong swallows hard, his pride crumbling under the weight of your icy stare.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You ask, feigning ignorance as you raise an eyebrow.

“For… for defending Dann.” He admits, the words tasting bitter on his tongue “I shouldn’t have done it. I wasn’t thinking. Please, YN. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You tilt your head, a small smile playing on your lips “Is that so?”

“Please, YN. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want to make it up to you.”

You raise an eyebrow. That phrase sounds kinda familiar. Your gaze sweeps over him with an air of detached amusement.

“Anything?”

“Yes.” He said, desperation dripping from every syllable.

“Prove it.”

He looks at you confused, unsure what you mean. But when you point at the floor with a slight nod, his heart sinks.

Here? Now?

The party is still bustling around them, and though the music is loud, he knows there are enough eyes on them to make this moment humiliating.

But the thought of losing your favor, of being cast back into obscurity, is unbearable.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees in front of you like the first time he did it. The weight of the action crushed the little pride he had left.

“I’m sorry,” His voice trembling as he looks up at you “Please, YN. Forgive me.”

Your lips curve into a slow smile, and you reach down, brushing your fingers along his jaw.

“Good boy.”

Without another word, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. Ignoring the stares of the partygoers—and the way Seonghwa’s amuse chuckle follows them—You lead him through the crowd and up the stairs.

Hongjoong’s pulse races as you push open the door to an empty room, shutting it firmly behind you.

“YN, I—” He starts, but you silence him with a finger to his lips.

You step closer, a hand sliding up his chest before tangling in the collar of his shirt. Your lips hover just above his, teasing him, your breath warm against his skin.

“You want me to forgive you, don’t you?” You whisper against his lips.

“Yes…” He breathes, his voice shaking.

“Then show me how sorry you are.” You say as your lips finally crash into his.

The kiss is rough, demanding, leaving Hongjoong breathless as your hands roam over him.

You push him into the edge of the bed, your confidence unwavering as you climb into his lap.

“Make it up to me.” You murmur against his ear, your tone lace with both seduction and dominance.

The room remains shrouded in heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your ragged breathing and the soft rustling of fabric as your hands continue their work.

Hongjoong sits before you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes glazed with a mix of guilt, desire, and submission. He’s completely under your control, each deliberate movement you make reinforcing your hold over him.

You trail your nails lightly down his chest, exposed now as his shirt hangs loose from his shoulders.

“See, Joongie,” You purr, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his neck “When you beg like that, it reminds me how much you want to be here… how much you need me.”

He shivers under your touch, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words come out. His mind is a haze, lost in you—your voice, your touch, the overwhelming weight of your presence.

He feels as if he’s drowning, yet he doesn’t want to come up for air.

Your lips return to his, capturing him in a kiss so intense it steals his breath. His hands caressing from your waist to your bare legs as you tug him closer, your hands tangling in his hair, ensuring there’s no escape.

Not that he wants one.

Your smirk deepens as you lean closer, your fingers curling under his chin to tilt his face up. Your dominance is unshakable, your presence commanding every ounce of his attention.

“On your knees.”

You order, carrying a weight that leaves no room for protest as you get off his lap to sit next to him on the bed.

Hongjoong’s breath hitches. His mind scrambles for a response, but the intensity of your gaze renders him silent. Swallowing hard, he glances around the empty room, then back at you, his cheeks already red when he sees you spread your legs.

He thinks he knows what you want him to do, and that makes him more nervous.

“YN, I don’t know—”

“Do you trust me or not?” You interrupt, fingers trailing down to his collar, tugging him forward “You said you’d do anything for me, didn’t you?”

Caught in your words and unwavering stare, Hongjoong nods hesitantly.

“I do.” He whispered.

“Then show me.”

Slowly, he slides down to his knees, the fabric of his jeans scraping lightly against the floor. His hands hover awkwardly at his sides, unsure of where they should go, as he looks up at you, his wide eyes fill with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

He's never done this before. He's seen it in porn videos but still doesn't know exactly what to do.

Your fingers slip into his hair, touch firm but not rough, and you guide him closer with a slow, deliberate motion.

“I always tell you this. Relax, Hongjoong, I’ll take care of you.”

Your other hand moves to the hem of your dress, slipping it up just enough to expose the soft fabric of your black panties.

Hongjoong’s gaze drops instinctively, his breath catching in his throat as his pulse races.

“Focus, Joongie.” You tease, tugging lightly on his hair to draw his attention back to your face “Start slow. I want to feel how much you want my forgiveness.”

With shaky hands, he rests his palms on your soft thighs, his touch hesitant and careful, the cold of his rings making you shiver.

You guide him lower, your smirk never wavering as his lips brush against your thighs.

The warmth of your skin, the faint scent of your perfume, the weight of your hand in his hair—all of it consumes him.

His inexperience is obvious, but you don't mind. You encourage him with soft sighs and subtle movements, your hips tilting forward slightly as he grows bolder, leaving little bites on your inner thighs as his fingers play with the edge of your panties, sliding them down slowly.

He starts taking his time dishing out kisses and biting on both thighs, making you impatient.

You let out a whimper pulling his hair slightly “Hongjoong… hurry up and eat me out.”

For the first time in his life, Hongjoong feels confident enough to smile mockingly against your delicate skin.

You, begging him to touch you? He never imagined it.

Still holding his smile, he slides your panties all the way down to your ankles, and removes them eagerly, leaving on your pretty high heels.

When he returns to his starting position between your thighs, he can't avoid looking to your bare core, all glossy with slick. He bites his lip at the sight.

Did he provoke that?

“Joong...” You reproach again with a whine.

You really need him to do something on his own or you'll force him to sink into your folds right now. You've never felt so desperate before, so eager for someone to touch you.

Hongjoong smiles again, your whiney voice turning him on.

The dry humping in your car, the blowjob in the empty classroom, and all the little make outs can not compare to this. Your pussy inches from his face, your hand tugging his hair and your desperate form waiting for him to touch you.

Fuck, he can’t believe this is happening.

With the highest confidence ever, even though he keeps in mind that he does not know what he is doing, he leans towards your pussy, giving a long lick that makes both of you moan in pleasure.

His warm tongue explores every millimeter of your womanhood, you whine as Hongjoong swipe his tongue up and down your wet slit, taking all your slick on his mouth.

“Shit, you taste so good, baby.” He says without realizing his words, his mind already cloudy.

You open your mouth in surprise at his daring words, you swear you feel more arousal coming out of your cunt.

“Fuck, Hongjoong…” You tighten your grip on his hair, forcing him to sink his head further and he lets you do it gladly, smiling against you “Ah… f-fuck me with your tongue, babe.”

And he does, he leaves your swollen clit to play with his tongue rubbing around your entrance, making you whine desperately.

He snorts with fun when you pull his hair harder, he is loving the way you’re acting, all whiny and desperate for him.

Without making you wait any longer, he slowly introduces his long tongue in your core.

He moans when he hears you do it and starts moving his tongue in and out, your walls clenching on it, his nose rubbing your clit, and his hands squeezing your thighs, bringing you closer to his mouth.

You arch your back, squirming and moaning under his exquisite touch. You never imagined that a virgin nerd like him could eat pussy so well.

Fuck, you never imagined he'd ever do this to you.

“That’s it,” You whisper, voice breathy but firm “Just… just like that, Joong.”

Each sound you make spur him on, his nervousness slowly giving way to determination. He wants to please you, to prove that he is worthy of your forgiveness, even if he doesn't fully know what he is doing.

Your breathing quickening as you tilt your head back “Good boy…” You murmur, your words sending a shiver down his spine.

The tension in the air is electric, every movement charged with a mix of control and surrender.

As your soft moans grow louder, Hongjoong can't help but feel a sense of pride, his confidence building with each passing moment.

✮ ⋆

The music blared through the speakers, the heavy bass vibrating the walls of Wooyoung’s mansion. Dann squeezed through groups of laughing, dancing people, her eyes scanning the crowd.

She’d been looking for Hongjoong for what felt like forever.

She finally spots Jung Wooyoung leaning casually against the bar, a drink in hand, and his signature easygoing grin in place.

Relief washes over her as she approaches him. She has never interacted with him, but she must find Joong.

“Wooyoung,” She calls out, raising her voice above the music “Have you seen Hongjoong?”

Jung tilts his head, his expression is a grimace when he sees her. He's drunk but he doesn't remember inviting this loser to his party, much less knowing the grudge you have against her.

“Little Hongjoong?” He echoes, taking a slow sip from his drink “Yeah, he went upstairs. With babydoll.” At Dann's confused expression, he rolls his eyes “He is upstairs with YN.”

Dann’s stomach drops at his words, her brows knitting together.

“With YN?” She repeats, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Wooyoung nods, smirking “Yep. Upstairs. Why? You jealous or something?” His tone is teasing, but Dann doesn’t have the energy to respond.

She turns on her heel and heads for the stairs, her heart pounding with every step. As she climbs, the noise of the party grows muffled, replaced by the quieter sounds of her own breathing and the creak of the steps.

Her mind races with thoughts she doesn’t want to entertain.

Why would Hongjoong be with you? After everything, after all the tension between you?

She reaches the top of the stairs and pauses before she approaches the only door that is closed in the hallway. Something tells her that they are both in there.

Her hand hesitates on the doorknob, her heart hammering against her ribs. Slowly, she pushes it open, the hinges creaking softly.

Her breath catches in her throat at the sight before her.

There you are—You and Hongjoong. You’re laying on the big bed, moaning as your hands grip Hongjoong’s hair while he is between your legs.

Hongjoong’s shirt is half-unbuttoned, hanging loosely off his shoulders, and his hands grip your thighs tightly, pulling you closer.

Dann’s chest tightens as a sharp pang of betrayal and hurt courses through her. She stands frozen in the doorway, her fingers gripping the frame as she struggles to make sense of what she’s seeing.

Neither you nor Hongjoong notice her. You’re too consumed by each other. The intensity of Hongjoong’s movements speaks volumes, and he is clearly enjoying being there.

Your dominance is evident too, your control absolute, while Hongjoong seems lost, entirely under your spell.

Dann bites her lip, willing herself not to cry as she takes a shaky step back. The scene before her is a confirmation of every fear she’s tried to suppress.

She retreats into the hallway, her heart aching with every step.

Downstairs, the party rages on, oblivious to the turmoil in Dann’s chest.

✮ ⋆

“Joong… I’m close.” You announce closing your eyes shut and your whines get louder, the pleasure is too much to handle.

At your words, Hongjoong places his lips around your sensitive clit, sucking and pulling at it, and without you expecting it, he thrust two of his fingers into your narrow entrance, making you open your eyes and groan in surprise.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

You quickly lift yourself up on your elbow to get a better view of him eating you like a starved man, It is certainly a spectacular sight.

His eyes closed in concentration, his warm mouth on your pussy and his fingers caressing the right places in your tight cunt.

Shit…. Is he really a virgin? Because this is the best oral sex you have ever received.

“L-look at me… look at me, baby.” You order him and he immediately obeys, looking at you with those doe eyes, those pretty doe eyes make a wave of pleasure run through your body “F-fuck… gonna cum, baby. K-keep going.” You moan again tilting your head back, your eyes rolling back “J-just like that…”

Damn, Hongjoong swears that this is the best view in the world, your mouth agape, eyes rolling back, you saying his name like a fucking mantra, this will undoubtedly be an image that will stay in his mind forever.

“Cum for me, pretty… cum on my mouth.”

He doesn't know where that sentence came from but he can't help it, the adrenaline of the moment has his mind clouded.

With those words, you lose it. Your strength leaves your body when the well-known pressure on your abdomen appears, your grip on his hair becomes stronger and your legs begin to tremble from immense pleasure, your orgasm explodes like never before, leaving you breathless.

He moans in satisfaction, the taste of your slick driving him crazy, he moves his tongue everywhere collecting every drop of your orgasm, just like you did that day with him.

“Ah… fuck, Joong!” You squirm under his movements, feeling the beginning of overstimulation “Hongjoong… ‘s too much, baby.”

With a last lick and a wet kiss on your clit, Hongjoong lifts his head with a light smile.

He’s pussy drunk right now and you smile, taking him by the cheeks and bringing him closer to you to kiss him.

His lips are swollen and his chin is soaked with your fluids, he looks messy, but you don't care. The kiss is full of something special this time, you don't know if it's gratitude, warmth or love. But you're definitely enjoying it too much.

“Did I do it right?” He murmurs against your lips and he smiles when you nod.

“That was amazing.” You pull him back, your breathing uneven, your eyes meet his with a satisfied gleam “Not bad for your first time.”

Hongjoong remain above you, his chest heaving as he tries to process what had just happened.

You run a hand through his messy hair, glancing down at him with a mix of amusement and approval.

“Let’s go back to the party.” You add, leaning down to press a quick, teasing kiss to his lips before pulling back.

And Hongjoong smiles satisfied, satisfied to have your forgiveness

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The hallway outside Wooyoung’s upstairs den is dimly lit, the faint bassline of the party vibrating through the walls.

Dann leans against the banister, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to shield her from the storm raging in her chest. Her mind replays the image of you with Hongjoong in that compromising position.

She blinks back the sting of tears, her breath hitching.

“Pathetic,” She whispers to herself, trying to steal her resolve.

But the pain lingers, twisting deeper with each passing second.

“You look like hell.” A voice cuts through her thoughts, sharp yet strangely casual.

Dann startles, her wide eyes locking onto Seonghwa as he saunters out of the shadows. His shirt is half-buttoned, his tie hanging loose around his neck.

He takes a slow drag from a cigarette, the embers glowing faintly in the dim light.

“What do you want?” Dann’s voice wavers, a mix of anger and embarrassment as she hastily wipes at her cheeks.

Seonghwa tilts his head, smirking “Relax, I just happened to notice you running out of there like the world’s ending.” He exhales a thin trail of smoke, his eyes narrowing with mock “Saw something you didn’t like?”

Dann glares at him but says nothing. The silence between them grows heavy, thick with unspoken truths.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hwa finally says, leaning casually against the banister “Let me guess… Hongjoong and YN, all over each other like she hadn't kicked him out a week ago because of your little show in the cafeteria?”

His tone drips with derision, his smirk deepening when Dann flinches.

“Why are you telling me this?” She snaps, her voice cracking slightly “You’re supposed to be her friend, aren’t you?”

Hwa chuckles, low and mirthless “Friendship’s a funny thing, don’t you think? Especially when it comes to someone like YN.” He flicks the cigarette away, watching the faint glow disappear into the darkness “You think she really cares about anyone but herself?”

Dann’s gaze falters, the weight of his words settling over her.

“Look,” Hwa says, his voice softening just enough to sound sincere, “I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of YN’s little games. She’s been pulling this crap since we were kids, using people, discarding them when they’re no longer useful.”

Dann clenches her fists, her voice barely above a whisper.

“But Hongjoong isn’t like that.”

Hwa raises an eyebrow, his smirk returning “You sure about that? He dropped you pretty fast for her, didn’t he?”

Her breath catches, the truth of his words cutting deeper than she wants to admit.

“But here’s the thing,” Hwa continues, stepping closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially “YN’s not untouchable. She’s got secrets, vulnerabilities… things she wouldn’t want getting out.”

Dann looks up at him, confusion and hesitation warring in her eyes.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… if you really want to hit her where it hurts, I can help.”

The air between them crackles with tension. Dann hesitates, her instincts screaming at her to walk away.

But the memory of Hongjoong doing such a thing with you flashes through her mind again, the sting of betrayal fueling the embers of something darker.

“Why?” She asks cautiously, her voice steadier now.

Seonghwa’s grin widens, his eyes glinting with calculated charm

“Let’s just say I have my reasons. And besides…” He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper “Don’t you want to see her fall?”

Dann swallows hard, the weight of his proposition pressing down on her. Her mind races, torn between doubt and the growing need to fight back.

Finally, she nods, her voice quiet but firm.

“Okay. I’m in.”

Hwa straightens, satisfaction flashing across his face “Good. Stick with me, and we’ll make sure YN regrets every move she’s made.”

As he walks away, Dann stands frozen, the faint echo of his footsteps fading into the music downstairs.

For the first time that night, she feels something other than pain—something sharp and dangerous, simmering just beneath the surface.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The soft glow of the afternoon sun filters through the expansive windows of your house, casting a warm, golden hue over the sprawling living room.

You and Hongjoong sit cross-legged on the expensive carpet, a mess of images, glue sticks, and markers spread out between you. The project you’re working on is for the literature class—a visual timeline of key events in European history.

For once, you aren't delegating the work entirely to Hongjoong. Instead, you’re snipping pieces of paper with surprising focus, handing them over to him to paste onto the board.

“Here,” You say, holding up a carefully cut-out image of the Berlin Wall “Paste this next to the 1989 marker. And make it straight this time.”

Hongjoong smirks, taking the picture “Yes, pretty. Anything else you’d like me to do, Your Majesty?”

You roll your eyes but hide a smile “Just don’t mess it up. My grade’s on the line, too.”

You share a laugh, the recent nickname he loves to call you since that night at Wooyoung’s party makes you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Since that day, Hongjoong feels the ease between both of you—something he never thought possible just a few weeks ago. He doesn’t feel nervous or out of place anymore.

Being with you feels natural now, like he belongs here.

You lean back, brushing your hair over your shoulder, and look at him with a curious expression.

“You’re actually not bad at this. Who knew?”

He grins “Wow, high praise coming from you. Should I write this down?”

You smirk, tossing a crumpled piece of paper at him “Don’t push your luck, Kim.”

The banter continues, light and comfortable, until the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor interrupts them.

Your mother appears in the doorway, dressed immaculately as always, her gaze sweeping over the room.

“Oh! Hi, Hongjoong. Didn't know you were here.” Your mother greets him with a lovely smile

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Clarke.” He bows his head politely.

“How are you doing with that guys?” She says while looking curiously at your project.

“Great, we’re having fun.” Hongjoong answers with a sweet smile and your mother giggles gracefully.

From the first time your mother met him, she was delighted with the boy, saying how handsome and polite he was.

“Incredible. Sweetie?” Now she addresses you and you hum in response “I wanted to let you know your brother will be returning from Germany next week. He finished his program early.”

You freeze, your hands stilling on the paper you're cutting. For a moment, a flicker of something—fear?—crosses your face.

“Oh…” You say, voice strained despite her attempt at nonchalance “That’s… great.”

Your mother narrows her eyes slightly, as if detecting the unease.

“Yes. He’s looking forward to seeing you. I hope you’ll make him proud of how you’ve been handling things here.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” You reply with a forced smile.

“Well, I'll let you continue with your work.” Your mother gives a curt nod before leaving the room.

Hongjoong glances at you, sensing the sudden shift in your mood.

“Mike?”

You exhale sharply, tossing the scissors aside “Yeah. My amazing brother. If he finds out I’ve been… well, less than perfect, he won’t hesitate to tell my parents.”

Hongjoong frowns “He sounds… intense.”

“You don’t know half of it.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair. For a moment, your confident exterior falters, revealing a hint of vulnerability.

Hongjoong reaches out, hesitating before placing a hand on yours.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happens, you’ll handle it. You’re YN, remember? You always do.”

You look at him, your expression softening “You’re sweet, you know that?”

He shrugs, a blush creeping up his neck “Just for you, pretty.”

You lean in, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss.

“Let’s finish this project before my mother comes back and give you compliments just for existing”

Hongjooong chuckles, but he can’t shake the lingering thought of your brother. Whoever this guy is, he clearly has a hold over you—and that’s saying something.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Dann quietly tidies up remnants of her lunch, her movements mechanical. She hasn’t spoken to Hongjoong in days. He doesn’t even look at her anymore.

But she notices the change in you—the way you smile more, laugh more, when Hongjoong is around you.

And Dann can’t help but feel the ache in her chest grow sharper with each passing moment.

How much she wishes she was in your place, to be so close to Hongjoong.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The house buzzes with quiet anticipation, the staff moving about with heightened energy. Your mother, dressed in her usual pristine elegance, stands in the center of the room, her voice carrying an air of authority but still kind.

“I want everything perfect for my son’s return,” She announces, her tone leaving no room for error “The table arrangements, the food, the decor—everything must reflect our family’s standards. He’ll be here in three days, and this dinner must welcome him properly. The whole family will come, so the banquet should be for twenty-five people.”

Dann crouches in the corner of the hallway, hidden behind a large vase. She had come to deliver your paperwork but froze when she overheard the conversation.

Her heart pounds as she listens, her mind racing. YN’s brother… She wouldn't know that the Clarkes have two children if it weren't for some pictures hanging on the walls, in all this time she never heard anyone mention it, not even your parents.

She knows almost nothing about him, but the little mention that Seonghwa made one day left her intrigued.

Why does no one in the family talk about that guy?

The moment your mother leaves the room, Dann slips out and makes her way to the backyard, her hands clutching the papers tightly.

She unlocks her phone in hand and calls Seonghwa.

He’s been a constant presence in her life these past two weeks—not as a friend, but as a partner in their silent pact.

In these weeks, Hwa has treated Dann with a mix of indifference and amusement. He never misses an opportunity to remind her of their deal, yet he’s never outright cruel.

For him, she’s a tool—a means to an end. But for Dann, every interaction feels like walking a tightrope, unsure when his charm might twist into something sharper.

“Seonghwa,” she calls softly when he picks up.

“Hi, what’s the news?”

Dann hesitates before speaking “YN’s brother… He’s coming back in three days. Her mom is planning this big welcome dinner for him.”

“The golden boy, huh? Interesting.”

“Interesting?” Dann blurts out before she can stop herself.

“Of course, it is. Daddy’s favorite, perfect older brother who can do no wrong? He’s probably the only one who can knock YN off her pedestal.”

Dann frowns, clutching her hands nervously “Are you sure about this?”

“Don't be scared, Seo, I’ll take care of everything.”

Dann isn’t comforted by his nonchalance, but she knows better than to push. Seonghwa isn’t someone who worries; he plans, manipulates, and waits for the perfect moment to strike.

“Okay… bye.

Dann bites her lip, hanging up before walking back inside the house. But as she retreats, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s stepping deeper into a game she barely understands.

✮ ⋆

You lounge on the oversized velvet sofa in the living room, your legs tuck beneath you as you flip through the book Hongjoong recommended to you.

You’re not reading it—your eyes skim over the pages without absorbing a single word.

Around you, the house is abuzz with activity. Maids dust every surface, fluffing pillows to perfection.

A team of florists meticulously arranges extravagant bouquets in the foyer, filling the air with the overpowering scent of lilies and roses.

Your mother strides into the room, clipboard in hand, rattling off instructions.

“The table settings must be silver, not gold. And make sure the wine glasses are spotless—he deserves only the best.” Her voice drips with excitement.

You glance at the dining room, now transformed into a stage for the grand dinner. Crystal chandeliers gleam above the polished mahogany table, which is already set with fine china and embroidered napkins.

Everything is immaculate, screaming perfection—just like your brother.

Your father joins his wife, a rare smile softening his otherwise stern face “Finally, our son is coming back. Three years is far too long.” He places a hand on the woman's shoulder, his tone filled with pride “He’s the best of us.”

Your stomach twists. Their words sting in a way you don’t expect. It’s not that you hate Mike—not really. But the shadow he casts is suffocating, the impossibly high bar he sets that you’ll never reach.

The perfect son, the golden child who’s never made a misstep—or so everyone thinks.

Because you know better. You know the cracks hidden behind his flawless exterior. The things he’s done, the lines he’s crossed.

The way he’s used you to cover his tracks, forcing you to dirty your hands so his reputation could remain unscathed. The memory of his voice, cold and commanding, still echoes in your mind.

'You’ll do it, YN. You owe me.' And you always did because saying no was never an option.

Your parents know about his anger issues. They’ve seen his temper, the way his anger can spiral into violence.

They’ve heard the arguments, felt the weight of his wrath. But they ignore it, choosing instead to uphold the illusion of their perfect son.

You know they love you and love to spoil you, but you also know their disappointment runs deep.

To them, you’re the little child who always gets her way, who causes trouble without considering the consequences.

A loud clatter from the kitchen breaks her thoughts, and your mother whirls around.

“What was that? We can’t afford any mistakes!”

You watch your mother hurry away, and your heart sinks further. Mistakes.

That’s all you feel you are lately and a series of disappointments waiting to be uncovered. Your eyes drift to the grand staircase, and you imagine Mike descending it, his presence commanding the room, and your parents beaming with pride.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you from bad thoughts. It’s a text from Hongjoong, something sweet and simple about your project.

Joongie: We’re getting a 10, pretty.

Joongie: Promise!!

For a moment, you smile, but it quickly fades. Hongjoong is your escape, your distraction, but even he can’t erase the weight of your family’s expectations.

Sighing, you set the book down and lean back, closing your eyes. The house feels suffocating, filled with reminders of who you are supposed to be.

But this time, you won’t be caught off guard. If your brother’s return is inevitable, you’ll face him on your terms—even if it means confronting the secrets they both carry.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The school backyard is too quiet to be the last class, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees as students chatter in the distance.

You and Hongjoong sit on a bench, the space between them comfortable but heavy with unspoken thoughts.

You swing your legs lazily, your eyes looking at the horizon. Your usually confident demeanor seems a little more distant today, like your mind is elsewhere.

Hongjoong notices it instantly, and though he’s not the type to pry, he can’t help but ask.

"Hey, what's going on? You seem… off today."

You glance over at him, lips curling into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It’s nothing. Just stuff with my family.”

He raises an eyebrow, sensing that it’s more than just ‘stuff.’ He leans a little closer, his voice softer now.

“Your brother, right?”

You freeze at the mention of him, gaze flickering to the side, as though trying to avoid the thought altogether. Your fingers fidget with the hem of your jacket, and you sigh deeply.

"Yeah, he’s coming back today." You try to mask the vulnerability in your tone, but Hongjoong catches it anyway "After three years, my parents are so excited. You should see the house, Joong... everything has to be perfect."

Hongjoong watches you carefully, his expression thoughtful. He remembers when your mother told you about Mike’s return.

You had been visibly upset, though you masked it quickly, eager to avoid the conversation. He knows that you have spent your whole life living in your brother’s shadow, constantly compared to his perfection.

"I get it," He says softly, his voice steady "You’ve always felt like he’s the ‘golden child,’ right? The one your parents adore."

Your lips tighten, but you don't argue, just nod, glancing at him with a half-smile.

"It’s exhausting. He’s everything they ever wanted in a son. Business master. Perfect grades. Perfect manners. Perfect everything." You pause, a bitter edge creeping into your voice "It doesn’t matter how many times I get a perfect score or do everything right. It’s never enough."

Hongjoong nods, his hand resting on the back of the bench, his gaze still on you. He knows you hide a lot behind that confident exterior, but the cracks are starting to show now, and it makes him feel both protective and… uncertain.

"It sounds like a lot to deal with. But your parents love you. They just have high expectations, don’t they?"

Your gaze flickers briefly to him, but you don't meet his eyes. You bite your lip, as if debating whether to continue.

"They do, but sometimes it feels like it’s not enough." You shrug, trying to brush it off, but the weight of the words lingers in the air between them "Anyway, enough about that."

You shift in your seat, a new thought clearly forming.

“Hongjoong,” You say, voice softer now, almost vulnerable "I know I’ve been, uh… caught up with my family stuff lately. But would you… would you ever invite me to your place one day? Just, you know, to get away from all of this?"

He blinks in surprise, but the warmth of your request is clear. It’s not about the drama or the pressures you face at home. It’s just you wanting a break, wanting something simple.

A break from being the ‘perfect’ daughter, the one always judged against the golden child.

"Of course, pretty." He replies without hesitation "Whenever you want. You can always come over."

You look at him, eyes softer now, a real smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Thanks, that means more than you know."

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of your words settling between you. Hongjoong’s heart races, unsure of what this means for their relationship but knowing one thing:

Being around you, seeing you like this—vulnerable, honest—it pulls him in deeper.

Finally, you break the silence again “Well, if I have to put up with my perfect brother for a while, at least I’ll have something to look forward to, right?”

He chuckles, the sound filling the quiet space between you “Exactly. And you know, I think the ‘perfect’ brother might need a little dose of reality. No one can be perfect all the time.”

You grin at that, your usual self-assuredness flickering back to life.

"Maybe.”

"Well, you’ve got me for anything. Always."

As you sit there, the rest of the world seems to fade away. Just for a moment, everything is okay.

And for now, that’s enough.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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magic-shop-stories · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I really love your writing. I wanted to see if it was possible to request something along the lines of a friends to lovers fic with Yoongi. Maybe some angst like he starts to get kind of distant so the reader thinks she’s being too annoying or clingy and thinks he wants to spend less time together so she starts to back off thinking it’ll make him happy. But it’s the opposite. He actually really really likes (loves) her and is scared and doesn’t know how to handle it or doesn’t want to mess up so he gets hurt that she starts distancing herself from him. Maybe an argument ensues ( it gets worse before it gets better). Have it end fluffy and happy. I’d really appreciate it! It’s okay if this isn’t your style. I’ll understand.

💌 Reply:

Hi love! 💜 Thank you so much for trusting me with this request. I loved your idea and it had me emotional from the start! I absolutely adore friends-to-lovers angst with Yoongi, especially when it’s layered with all that delicious tension and vulnerability. I tried to weave in plenty of hurt, misunderstandings, and emotional confrontations (plus a rooftop kiss in the rain), but don’t worry... it ends with all the softness and hope these two deserve. The members also meddle (because of course they do), and there’s a lot of quiet healing woven into the chaos, at least I think so. I hope this story feels as comfortin to read as it did to write! Let me know if you’d tweak anything... your feedback means the world. Thank you again!

PS.: I'm definitely NOT procrastinating and wrote this to avoid my uni assigments I have to hand in in a week - RIP

REQUEST NAME:

ECLIPSE

↳ Yoongi x F!Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Angst, Drama, (Slow Burn/ Romance) | BTS AU | Slice of Life

Rating: G (13)

Word Count: ~4.7k

Genre: Drama, BTS AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow-Burn Romance, Slice of Life

Warnings: themes of parental neglect, emotional abandonment, references to, self-harm, emotional distress (panic attacks, anxiety), strong language (occasional profanity), depictions of unresolved trauma and emotional repression, intense arguments, emotional confrontations, mild alcohol use

Pairing: Min Yoongi x F!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Featuring: Yoongi as a guarded, introverted musician grappling with fear of vulnerability and abandonment, Reader as a resilient but scarred creative, haunted by childhood neglect and rejection, BTS Members as supportive yet meddling found family (Jin, Jungkook, Jimin, Namjoon, Taehyung, Hobi), Themes of healing through connection, the weight of silence, and learning to trust.

ECLIPSE

PROLOGUE: DAEGU, 2010

The bell above the door of Hwanhee Music jingles like a half-hearted apology as you duck inside, your older brother’s laughter still ringing in your ears. “You hum like a dying refrigerator,” he’d sneered, shoving you out of the car. The shop smells of rosin and dust, violins hanging like forgotten ghosts on the walls. You trail your fingers over a cracked cello case, its velvet lining frayed, when a voice slices through the quiet.

“You gonna stare all day,” he snaps, “or hand me the Phillips head?”

The boy under the desk is all sharp angles, elbows like knife-edges, ink-stained fingers, hair dyed a rebellious copper that clashes with his scowl. A gutted keyboard spills wires at his feet, and grease smears his cheekbone like war paint. You freeze, but his glare doesn’t waver.

“Screwdriver,” he barks, nodding to the toolbox.

You fumble for the tool, knees cracking against the linoleum as you kneel beside him. He snatches it without thanks, cursing under his breath as he jabs at the keyboard’s innards. Up close, he smells like solder and spearmint gum.

“You work here?” you venture.

“No. I break things for fun.” He doesn’t look up. “Why’re you here?”

“My brother’s a jerk.”

That earns a snort. “Join the club.”

You watch him work, the rhythm of his hands hypnotic, twisting screws, testing circuits. When the keyboard finally sputters to life, playing a distorted C-major scale, he leans back with a smirk. “Fixed it.”

“Sounds worse,” you say.

He barks a laugh, sharp and surprised. “Yeah. Perfect, isn’t it?”

He shoves a mixtape into your hand as you leave. GLOSS scrawled in red ink. That night, you press play in your closet, headphones swallowing the sound of your parents’ fight downstairs. The beats are raw, angry, alive. You fall asleep to the track on loop, your cheek against the cold floor.

You don’t know it yet, but this boy, Min Yoongi, 16, allergic to small talk and full of broken things, will become your anchor.

PRESENT

The hum of the air conditioner is the only sound in Yoongi’s studio, a sterile chill biting through the warmth of late summer. You hover in the doorway, balancing two paper cups of coffee, one black, decaf, with a sugar cube hidden beneath the saucer, the other a caramel macchiato you’d grabbed on impulse, though you know he’ll tease you for it.

He’s hunched over his desk, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, fingers flying across his laptop keyboard. The blue light of the screen casts shadows under his eyes, deeper than they were last week. A half-empty pack of menthol cigarettes sits beside a stack of lyric sheets, the top one scribbled with angry black strokes: “I built a fortress, but the walls keep crumbling.”

“Hey,” you say softly, setting his coffee down. “Track seven’s bridge… the metaphor about ‘winter bones.’ It’s brutal.”

He doesn’t look up. “It’s supposed to be.”

“But ‘embers’ could work better. Something that still burns, even in the cold.”

His jaw tenses. “Leave it.”

“Yoongi...”

“I said leave it.” The words crack like a whip.

You freeze. He’s snapped before, sleep-deprived, caffeine-jittery, lost in the labyrinth of his own mind, but never at you. Never with that edge of venom.

His fingers pause mid-keystroke. For a heartbeat, the room feels suspended, the air thick with unsaid things. Then he yanks his hoodie over his head, the fabric swallowing him whole, like a turtle retreating in its shell. “Go home. I’m busy.”

You go.

Seoul’s streets blur as you walk, the weight of his dismissal sharp in your ribs. You pass the convenience store where he once bought you banana milk after a panic attack, the alley where he taught you to ride his motorcycle, gripping his waist too tight as he laughed. “Relax, I won’t let you die.”

Your phone buzzes. A text from Jimin: 'Movie night? Bring Yoongi hyung’s grumpy ass.' You type 'Maybe next time' and pocket the phone.

The rain starts as you reach your apartment, a slow drizzle that soaks through your sweater. You’re fumbling with your keys when your brother’s name flashes on your screen.

“Dad’s in the hospital,” he says. “Minor heart attack. He’s fine, but… thought you should know.”

You stare at the puddle forming at your feet. “Did he ask for me?”

A pause. “You know how he is.”

“Right.” You hang up.

Inside, you curl on the couch, the Agust D mixtape he gave you a few years ago, one of the first, spinning quietly. The track skips where it’s been played too many times.

Friday’s samgyeopsal tradition dies with a text: Yoongi: 'Busy. Next week.'

No emojis. No apology. Just three words that carve a hollow in your chest.

You stare at the restaurant reservation on your phone, 'Table for 2, 7:30 PM' and delete it.

Jin texts an hour later: 'Yah, why’s Yoongi sulking in the studio? Did you two fight?'

You lie: 'Comeback stress.'

But you know better.

The next day, HYBE’s greenroom buzzes with laughter. Jungkook’s attempting handstands against the wall, Jimin filming while Taehyung heckles. You’re halfway through a story about Hobi’s failed attempt at baking bungeoppang when Yoongi walks in.

His eyes dart to you, then away.

“Hyung!” Jungkook grins, upside-down. “Bet you can’t do ten push-ups with Y/N on your back!”

“Pass,” Yoongi mutters, beelining for the coffee machine.

You force a laugh. “He’d collapse. Too many sleepless nights.”

It’s an old joke, one that usually earns an eye roll or a sarcastic “Yah, respect your elders.” Today, he stiffens, coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug.

“I’m fine,” he snaps.

The room falls silent. Jimin’s camera lowers.

“Hyung,...” Jungkook starts, but Yoongi’s already out the door.

Ten Years Earlier

You find him on the rooftop of his high school, knuckles split and bleeding.

“Fight?” you ask, sitting beside him.

“None of your business.”

“Your mom called me. Said you missed dinner.”

He scoffs. “She’s used to it.”

You pull a bandage from your bag, always carrying extras since the day he sliced his thumb fixing your bike. He lets you wrap his hand, hissing when the alcohol pad stings.

“Why do you do this?” you whisper.

He looks at you then, really looks, his eyes black and bottomless. “Why do you care?”

You don’t have an answer.

The distance becomes a chasm. He “forgets” your birthday, though you’ve spent every one together since you were 17.

You leave tteokbokki at his studio door. It sits untouched until the security guard throws it out.

At 3 a.m., you hear his motorcycle idle outside your apartment. The engine cuts, then roars away.

One night, drunk on soju and self-pity, you open the demo track he left on your laptop, Eclipse. The lyrics gut you:

“I’m a shadow chasing your light / Scared to touch, scared to fight / What if I’m just another ghost in your night?”

You play it on loop until dawn.

The final straw is a Thursday.

You’re in the HYBE archives, digging through old recordings for Namjoon’s documentary, when Yoongi walks in. He freezes at the sight of you, a file slipping from his hands.

“Need help?” you offer, kneeling to gather the papers.

“Don’t.” His voice is strained.

Your fingers brush his. He jerks back like burned.

“Yoongi, talk to me.”

He stares at the floor, jaw clenched. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Bullshit.” Your voice cracks. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Did I do something? Say something?”

He turns to leave.

“Coward,” you spit.

He stops, shoulders rigid.

“You’re scared,” you press. “Of what? Me?”

For a heartbeat, he hesitates. Then the door slams shut.

That night, you dig out the box under your bed, the one labeled Do Not Open in your mother’s handwriting. Inside: divorce papers, a dried corsage from your forgotten recital, and a note in her looping script: 'Sometimes love isn’t enough.'

You text Yoongi: 'I’ll stop bothering you.'

He doesn’t reply.

The silence between you and Yoongi hardens into something tangible, a wall built brick by brick with every unanswered text and averted glance. And you stop waiting.

No more coffee runs to his studio, no more scribbling notes in the margins of his lyrics. You delete his contact from your speed dial and mute the group chat buzzing with tour preparations. At Jimin’s birthday party, you lean into the chaos, laughing too loudly at Taehyung’s absurd jokes, letting Jungkook spin you in a drunken waltz until your heels skid on the polished floor.

“Careful,” Jungkook grins, steadying you as the room tilts. “Hyung’ll kill me if I break his favorite editor.”

You force a smile. “He won’t notice.”

But Yoongi does.

He watches from the balcony, cigarette cherry glowing like a warning light in the dark. The party’s golden haze doesn’t touch him here; he’s a shadow in a leather jacket, sleeves pushed up to reveal the faint scar on his forearm, the one he got teaching you to ride his motorbike years ago. His gaze lingers as Jungkook’s hand slides to your waist, his jaw tightening before he crushes the cigarette under his boot.

“He’s being weird,” Jimin murmurs, appearing at your side with a champagne flute. He nods toward the balcony, where Yoongi’s silhouette melts into the night. “Did you fight?”

“He’s just tired,” you lie, the words ash on your tongue.

Flashback — Age 19

The studio bathroom reeks of bleach and regret. You slump against the sink, your father’s latest text glaring from your cracked screen: 'Next time, kiddo. Promise.' The lie is a familiar ache, a bruise pressed too many times.

The door creaks open. Yoongi leans against the frame, arms crossed, hair mussed from hours of producing. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, wiping mascara streaks with a scratchy paper towel.

He tosses a crowbar onto the counter. “C’mon.”

You follow him to the storage closet, where an old keyboard gathers dust. “Break it,” he says, voice flat.

The first strike is hesitant. The second cracks the plastic. By the third, you’re screaming, tears mixing with sweat as shrapnel flies. Yoongi watches, arms crossed, until you collapse against the wall, breath ragged.

“Feel better?” he asks.

“No.”

He hands you a Coke, condensation slick on your palms. “Me neither. But it’s fun, right?”

You hiccup a laugh. “You’re weird.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He doesn’t ask why you were crying. Doesn’t have to. You both know the shape of absence too well.

Yoongi’s Studio, 3:14 AM

The cursor blinks mockingly on his screen, the lyrics to Eclipse taunting him.

“I’m a shadow afraid of my own light / You’re the sun I can’t let myself bite.”

Yoongi slams his laptop shut. The studio walls press in, cluttered with half-empty coffee cups and crumpled lyric sheets. His fingers drift to the light scar on his forearm, tracing it like a prayer. Coward, it snarls back.

He pulls out his phone, thumb hovering over your name. The last text you sent 'I’ll stop bothering you' still burns. He types 'Don’t', deletes it. Types 'I’m sorry', then deletes that too.

The door creaks open.

“Hyung?” Jungkook pokes his head in, hair mussed from sleep. “You’ve been here for 18 hours. Eat something.”

“Not hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.” Jungkook tosses a convenience store kimbap onto the desk. “Y/N texted me. Said you’re being… you again.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens. “She’s not my babysitter.”

“No,” Jungkook says quietly. “But she’s your friend. Or was.”

The door clicks shut. Yoongi stares at the uneaten kimbap, guilt curdling in his gut.

He notices everything.

The way you no longer linger in his doorway after dropping off coffee. How you laugh at Jungkook’s jokes but freeze when he enters the room. The hollow space where your notes used to clutter his desk.

It’s for the best, he tells himself.

Liar.

One night, he drives to your apartment, engine idling as he watches your shadow move behind the curtains. You’re humming, his melody, the one he wrote after your car crash. His hands shake on the steering wheel.

Go inside. Tell her.

But he’s sixteen again, staring at a closed door after you left Hwanhee Music for the first time after appearing out of nowhere.

He revs the engine and leaves.

The second intervention comes on a Tuesday.

Jin corners him in the practice room, arms crossed. “Fix this.”

“Fix what?” Yoongi dodges, pounding the punching bag.

“You know what. She’s miserable. You’re miserable. Even the staff’s placing bets on how long you’ll last.”

“Not your business.”

“It is when you’re both too stubborn to...”

The bag swings violently as Yoongi lands a final blow. “Back. Off.”

Jin doesn’t flinch. “You’re scared. That’s fine. But don’t take her down with you.”

That night he plays Eclipse on loop, the bass vibrating in his teeth.

“What if I’m just another ghost in your night?”

His fingers slip, hitting a dissonant chord. He slams the piano lid, breath ragged. The room spins, sleep deprivation, regret, the phantom weight of your absence.

On the floor, his sketchbook lies open to a page he’d tried to tear out: your face, half-scribbled, half-erased. He traces the lines, charcoal smudging under his thumb.

You’re home. And I don’t know how to keep things that matter.

His phone buzzes. A notification from your shared cloud album, a photo of you both at last year’s Christmas party, his arm slung over your shoulders, caught mid-laugh.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until the tear hits the sketchbook, blurring your smile.

He’s at your door at 5:03 AM, fist raised to knock.

The night air bites, but his palms sweat. Through the peephole, he sees the faint glow of your TV, Howl’s Moving Castle paused, your favorite. He knows you’re curled on the couch in that ridiculous Totoro onesie, popcorn abandoned, asleep by now.

Tell her. Tell her.

His phone lights up with a text from his manager: 'Flight to L.A. in 3 hours. Pack.'

He steps back.

The elevator dings.

He’s gone.

Again.

And you?

You stop answering calls.

Your apartment becomes a museum of half-lived moments, takeout containers stacked like monuments, lyric sheets buried under unopened bills, the Agust D mixtape spinning endlessly on your turntable. The world narrows to the glow of your laptop screen, where you edit track after track for other artists, burying yourself in their stories to avoid your own.

One night, you find an old voicemail from your mother. “Sweetheart, call me when you can. Your father wants to...” You delete it.

The past claws back anyway.

Flashback — Age 9

The school auditorium is cold, your ballet shoes pinching as you wait in the wings. “Parents only,” the teacher had said. “No siblings.”

Your brother sits in the front row anyway, smirking as your parents’ seats stay empty. You pirouette, stumble, and the snickers cut deeper than the splinter in your toe. Afterward, your brother tosses you a candy bar. “Don’t cry. They’re not worth it.”

You eat it in the bathroom, chocolate mixing with salt.

On day three after Yoongi flew off, Jimin corners you in HYBE’s dressing room, his reflection sharp in the vanity lights.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asks, softer than he needs to.

You smudge concealer under your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” He spins your chair to face him. “Yoongi hyung’s a mess. You’re a mess. Talk to each other.”

Your laugh is brittle. “There’s nothing to say.”

He grips your shoulders, voice pleading. “You’re family. Let us help.”

You slip away, his touch burning like a brand.

Your old habits return like old lovers; familiar and destructive.

You skip meals, survive on iced coffee and nicotine gum. At 2 a.m., you scrub your kitchen floor until your knees bleed, just to feel something else. One night, you dig out the pocketknife from your brother’s old jacket, the blade dull from years of disuse.

Just once, you tell yourself. Just to remember.

The sting is a relief.

However they still notice, of course they do.

Namjoon finds you in the archives, buried under decade-old concert tapes.

“Jimin’s worried,” he says, leaning against a shelf. “I’m worried.”

You don’t look up. “I’m working.”

“You’re hiding.”

The tape in your hand trembles, 2015: Boy in Luv. Yoongi’s voice crackles through the speakers, raw and young. “Why’s love gotta hurt so much?”

Namjoon crouches beside you. “You know what he told me once? That loving someone feels like standing in a thunderstorm with a metal rod. You want to drop it, but you’re scared to let go.”

You press stop. The silence is suffocating.

“He’s scared,” Namjoon says. “But so are you.”

What you didnt know was that Yoongi didn't fly to LA.

He watches you from afar, sees you slip into the studio at dawn, hoodie swallowing your frame. Sees you flinch when Jungkook offers you his jacket. Sees the bandage on your wrist when you reach for a coffee cup.

One night, he follows you to the rooftop, your silhouette haloed by city lights. You don’t turn around.

“Go away,” you say, deep down you had felt his presence, but couldn't trust yourself anymore.

He doesn’t, but when both of you stay silent, you leave.

The panic attack hits you during a staff meeting, it had only been a matter of time.

Someone mentions Eclipse. Your chest tightens, air thinning to razorblades. You stumble into the hallway, clawing at your collar, and collapse against the wall.

Memories flood, your mother’s locked door, Yoongi’s studio light flicking off, your father’s empty seat in the auditorium. Not enough. Never enough.

“Breathe,” a voice rasps.

Yoongi kneels beside you, hands hovering like he’s afraid to touch. You slap him away.

“Don’t,” you choke. “You don’t get to care now.”

He recoils. And you run.

That night, you blast Eclipse until your neighbors pound on the wall. The lyrics twist into a taunt:

“I’m a shadow afraid of my own light / You’re the sun I can’t let myself bite.”

You smash the mixtape against the wall. The plastic cracks, but the music keeps playing.

You ran off, couldn't hear it anymore...

The rain fell in sheets, drowning the city in a haze of silver and shadow. You stood on the rooftop’s edge, fingers numb where they gripped the guardrail, the storm swallowing the sound of your tears. The cold bit through your clothes, but you welcomed it, a distraction from the ache in your chest, the raw sting beneath your bandages. You didn’t hear the door slam open behind you, didn’t register the footsteps until his voice cut through the downpour.

“Get down,” Yoongi demanded, breathless, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. His eyes flickered to your trembling hands, the soaked sleeves clinging to your arms.

You laughed, hollow and cracked. “Why? You’ve made it clear you don’t want me here.”

He stepped closer, boots splashing through puddles. “You’re going to freeze.”

“And you’ll what? Care?” You whirled on him, voice rising above the storm. “You ignored me for weeks! You let me think...”

“I know!” The words ripped from him, raw and ragged. “I know what I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this!” You gestured to your wrist, the bandage peeking beneath your sleeve. “You don’t get to disappear and then show up acting like you care!”

His face crumpled. “I was trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me!” He shouted it, fists clenched at his sides, rain streaking down his face like tears. “From this...this curse of ruining everything I touch! My dad thought I wasn’t enough. My mom cried herself to sleep for years. And you...you...” His voice broke. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I couldn’t watch you realize I’m not worth it.”

The confession hung between you, fragile as the silence after a thunderclap. You stared at him, chest heaving, the truth of his words slicing through the anger.

“You don’t get to decide what I’m worth,” you whispered.

He closed the distance in two strides, hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing away rain and tears. “I’m selfish,” he said, voice trembling. “I’m scared. But I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

His lips found yours, a collision of desperation and regret, salt and rain and years of unspoken words. You clung to him, fists tangled in his soaked hoodie, as the storm raged around you. When he pulled back, forehead pressed to yours, his breath shuddered. “Let me fix this. Please.”

He carried you to his apartment, your face buried in the curve of his neck, his grip unyielding. The elevator ride was silent, his heartbeat a frantic drum against your ear. Inside, he peeled off your drenched clothes with clinical care, hands lingering over fresh scars before bundling you into the shower. You stood under the scalding water, trembling as he washed your hair, his touch achingly gentle.

“This one’s infected,” he muttered later, kneeling on the bathroom floor, antiseptic and gauze scattered around him. His lips brushed the bandage on your wrist after he secured it, a silent vow. He tugged his old Agust D hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole, and microwaved a sad packet of instant jjajangmyeon, the only edible thing in his barren fridge.

You ate in silence at his kitchen table, legs pressed together beneath it, his gaze never leaving you.

When he finally spoke, it was to the darkness of his bedroom, your bodies inches apart on the mattress. “I wrote Eclipse about you,” he admitted, voice rough. “About how you’re… light. And I’m just the shadow chasing it.”

You turned toward him, tracing the scar on his forearm. “You’re not a shadow.”

He shifted, eyes glinting in the dim light. “Then what am I?”

“Mine.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, hands framing your face like you were something fragile, something sacred. You finally fell asleep tangled in his sheets, his arm a steady weight across your waist, nose buried in your hair.

Morning came soft and golden, the storm replaced by a quiet drizzle. You woke to his fingers tracing the curve of your shoulder, his voice sleep-roughened. “Stay,” he murmured into your skin. “Please.”

You turned, meeting his gaze; wide, vulnerable, stripped of armor. “What if we mess up again?”

He kissed the corner of your mouth, then the scar on your wrist. “We will. But I’ll fix it. Every time.”

EPILOGUE: Two Years Later

The soft hum of the studio’s air conditioner blended with the faint click of Yoongi’s mouse as he adjusted the final levels on his latest track. You sat cross-legged on the leather couch behind him, a stack of lyric sheets in your lap, red pen circling a line that felt too sharp, too raw. Outside, Seoul glittered under a midsummer moon, the city alive in a way that once felt suffocating but now pulsed with a rhythm you’d learned to dance to.

“You’re overthinking it,” you said, tossing a crumpled page at his head.

He caught it without turning, smirk audible in his voice. “Says the woman who rewrote the bridge six times.”

“It needed to breathe.”

“It needed to stop being micromanaged.” He spun his chair around, eyes crinkling as he took in your mock glare. The studio lights caught the silver hoop in his ear, the one you’d bought him last Christmas after he’d drunkenly admitted he’d always wanted to try piercings but was “too old for rebellion.”

You stood, padding over to his desk in socked feet, his socks, stolen from his drawer that morning, and leaned against the edge. “Play it again.”

He groaned but obeyed, fingers flying across the keyboard. The track bloomed through the speakers, a haunting blend of piano and synth that made your chest ache. It was different from his older work, softer at the edges, less like a scream and more like a confession.

“See?” you murmured, nodding to the screen. “The second verse. You softened the bass. It’s better.”

He tugged you onto his lap, chin resting on your shoulder. “Only because you bullied me into it.”

You elbowed him lightly, but his arms tightened around your waist, lips brushing the scar on your wrist, the one he still kissed every morning as if it were a promise.

The door creaked open. “Am I interrupting?”

You glanced up to find Jin leaning against the frame, eyebrow arched, a paper bag of mandu steaming in his hand.

“Yes,” Yoongi deadpanned, but he released you anyway, swiping a dumpling from the bag.

“You’re welcome,” Jin said, flopping onto the couch. “By the way, Jungkook’s betting you two will adopt a dog by Christmas. I’ve got 500,000 won riding on this, so hurry up.”

You snorted. “Tell him to mind his own business.”

“Impossible. You’re his favorite drama.”

Later, back at your shared apartment, a sunlit loft cluttered with vinyl records, half-finished paintings, and the Agust D mixtape framed above the turntable, you sprawled on the rug while Yoongi cooked. Or, more accurately, burned.

“You’re supposed to stir it,” you called from the floor, flipping through a photo album Jimin had made for your last anniversary.

“I am stirring it,” he grumbled, smoke curling from the pan.

You glanced up. “That’s a fire, Yoongi.”

“It’s caramelized.”

You abandoned the album, sidling up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist. “Let me.”

He huffed but handed over the spatula, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Show-off.”

The kitchen filled with the scent of garlic and soy sauce, the sizzle of the pan harmonizing with the jazz record spinning in the background. You hummed along, hips swaying, until his hands settled on your waist, his chin hooking over your shoulder.

“Remember the first time you tried to teach me to dance?” he murmured.

“You stepped on my toes.”

“You cursed in three languages.”

You laughed, flipping the kimchi pancake with a flourish. “And now look at you. Practically a pro.”

He spun you around, fingers lacing with yours, and guided you into a slow sway. “Only because you’re stubborn.”

You rested your head against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your ear. “And you’re a slow learner.”

He kissed your hair. “Worth it.”

The nightmares still came, sometimes.

You’d wake gasping, sheets tangled, the ghost of your father’s empty seat in the auditorium clawing at your throat. But now, Yoongi was there, warm and sleep-rumpled, voice gravelly as he pulled you into his arms.

“Tell me,” he’d say, fingers tracing circles on your back.

So you did. About the recital, the locked door, the way silence felt like rejection. He’d listen, lips pressed to your hair, until your breathing slowed.

And when his demons surfaced, nights he’d pace the balcony, cigarette unlit between his fingers, staring at the city like it might swallow him whole, you’d join him, your hand finding his.

“Talk,” you’d say.

And he would. About his father, the mixtapes he made to drown out his mother’s tears, the fear that love was a currency he’d never earned.

You’d kiss his knuckles, the light scar, the pulse at his wrist. “You’re stuck with me,” you’d whisper. “Better get used to it.”

On your anniversary, he took you back to Daegu.

The music shop was gone, replaced by a sleek café, but the rooftop where you’d first kissed still overlooked the tangled streets. He handed you a new mixtape, Eclipse (Final Version), and pressed play on a beat-up portable speaker.

The track was familiar yet transformed, the old anger tempered by strings, your laughter sampled into the bridge.

“You kept it,” you said, voice thick.

He shrugged, but his ears burned pink. “Had to finish what we started.”

You kissed him there, under the same stormy sky that had once felt like an ending, now a beginning.

That night, curled in the loft’s window seat with his hoodie swallowing your frame, you watched the city lights flicker like distant stars. Yoongi’s head rested in your lap, his breathing even, fingers absently strumming the guitar across his knees.

“You’re humming again,” he said, eyes closed.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled, soft and rare. “I like it.”

You carded your fingers through his hair, the melody spilling into the quiet. Outside, the rain began to fall, gentle, this time, a rhythm you no longer feared.

123 notes · View notes

bahablastplz · 1 year ago

Text

Always there: Hyunjin x Reader x Changbin

Your friend makes you feel bad after a night out at the club, but luckily, you’ve always had Hyunjin and Changbin to comfort you. Or maybe more than that, if that’s what you want. Is that what you want? Content: Smut, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Virgin reader, use of the word 'prude', reader is shamed for being a virgin (not by SKZ), kissing, fingering, oral f! receiving, p in v sex, no mention of using protection WC: 4800

Saturday mornings are great. After a long and tiring work week, you want nothing more than a day to sleep in and relax, finally letting the stress melt away from your body and mind. When you roll out of bed with a yawn you wobble into the kitchen, ready to make yourself a cup of coffee.

Maybe you would read a book today? Or you could always catch up on that k-drama you’ve been wanting to watch–

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Strange. That almost sounded like the voice of Hwang Hyunjin, which is impossible, seeing as you just woke up and you live alone. Right?

Wrong.

“Hyunjin, what the fuck are you doing in my house?” You groan as the coffee maker whirs to life, turning around to shoot your best friend a glare. He holds his hands up in mock defense, but your glare is no longer directed at him. It’s at the whistling coming from the bathroom, your bathroom, as Changbin strides out and dries his hands on his pants.

“I’m seriously regretting giving you both a spare set of keys,” you mumble. Your whining goes unheard over Changbin’s shouting.

“Ooh, coffee! Can I have some?”

You have never known true peace. Not since Hyunjin and Changbin came into your life. Though as much as you fake groan and moan, you love them both deeply and unconditionally. Your friends don’t really have a concept of personal space, which is very obvious this morning in particular, but you all know that if you were truly bothered and wanted them to leave, they would. You don’t ask them to. You are slightly more aware of your unruly appearance, bedhead and long t-shirt that covers your legs and lack of pants, so you walk back into your room and throw on a pair of sweats.

Once your coffee is retrieved, you lay lazily on the couch and turn on the TV. Your legs are stretched out across Hyunjin and your back is leaning against Changbin.

“You guys are so annoying,” you grumble. You sip idly out of your mug and let out a sigh, melting in between the two men.

“You’re awfully snappy today,” Hyunjin says with a laugh. “Besides, you know you love us.”

“I’m snappy because you buffoons decided to invade my home on my day off,” you say with petulance. You all know you don’t really mean your words though, so after a loud and dramatic sigh the topic is all but forgotten.

Until your friend calls.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath.

“Why is Cheryl calling you?” Hyunjin asks, leaning over to peak at your phone.

“Ugh, we had plans tonight. I completely forgot,” you say, swiping to answer her call.

“Hey girl! We still on for tonight? I really want to go to the club, and Brad said he was going to be there!”

You stifle back a groan before replying: “I don’t know…” You were being honest. Partying has never really been your forte, as much as your friend has tried to push you outside of your comfort zone… it has been a long week and you wanted nothing more than to laze around with Hyunjin and Changbin.

“C’mon! You never go out with me. This is why you still haven’t lost your virginity yet.” You stiffen at her words, letting out a soft chuckle and avoiding looking over at your friends, the ones that you know heard her judgmental words.

“Um.. yeah, sure! I’ll be there,” you finally stammer. Fuck. You really didn’t want to go but you did want to end this phone call. So that’s what you did. Finally bringing yourself to look at your friends, you give them an awkward smile.

“So… I’m going out with Cheryl tonight.”

“We gathered,” Hyunjin laughs. This time you don’t suppress the groan that tumbles out of your mouth.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Changbin says. You shoot him a nasty glare that he definitely doesn’t deserve.

“Well, Cheryl is kind of the worst,” Hyunjin agrees with you, though you’re not surprised. He’s never hidden his distaste for your other friend, and he has always been dramatic.

Listening to Hyunjin and Changbin decide if you should go out tonight was much like listening to the angel and the devil on your shoulder… Hyunjin’s protests of how you should just stay in and forget that bitch, versus Changbin’s gentle persuasion of how it’s been a long time since you’ve let yourself let go.

You take Changbin’s advice. And the boys don’t leave the house as you get ready, instead hooting and hollering when you walk out of your room in a little black dress, hair and makeup perfected. You smile sheepishly and try not to blush, but you’re used to their antics by now. When Cheryl comes to pick you up, Hyunjin stands behind you at your door, trying to comfort your nerves.

“Have fun tonight,” he says, rubbing soothing circles into your back before bringing you into an embrace from behind. He rests his head on your shoulder. “Don’t let Cheryl convince you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, yeah?” It’s unspoken what he means, and you wonder if he’s referencing your conversation with Cheryl from earlier before you’re being pushed out the door.

Smoothing your dress, you plaster a fake smile over your face before greeting your friend who is so excited about the evening.

***

You should have listened to Hyunjin.

That’s your first thought as Cheryl drags you into the club. It’s immediately apparent that she doesn’t really have interest in hanging out with you, and that she would much rather cling to her new situationship, Brad. Ugh. You needed a drink.

You do just that, ordering yourself an alcoholic beverage of choice. As you are sitting at the bar, occasionally glancing over at Cheryl, you see some other guy walk up to her and start chatting idly. You have no particular investment in the conversation until you hear her say, “But my friend Y/N is single!” Oh no. No no no.

She always did this. You’re not even sure why you agreed to hang out with her anymore. Maybe because you’re a pushover? You can’t help but wish that Hyunjin and Changbin were here to rescue you from this situation. The thought makes you laugh, knowing that Changbin would try to radiate an intimidating energy to get guys to back off and Hyunjin would cling to you dramatically.

“Hey, pretty girl.” The man approaches and takes the seat on your other side. Taking a deep breath, you turn and give him an awkward smile, already thinking of ways you can turn him down gently.

“Hi,” you respond, staring at your drink. The man immediately starts talking. His name is Drew, he’s like 10 years older than you, and he really likes golfing. You nod politely, but after 10 minutes you realize you haven’t even been able to get a single word in. This guy doesn’t really care about you, you realize, he just wants to hear himself talk.

“Excuse me,” you say, standing up. Drew shoots you a nasty look but dismisses you nonetheless, finding someone else to talk to that hopefully cares more than you do.

“Cheryl,” you say, trying to get your friend’s attention. She’s making out with Brad. Just great. “Cheryl!” You say it again, louder, touching her shoulder in the process.

“What?” She snaps, shooting you a dirty look.

“I want to leave.”

She scoffs at you. “You always do this,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t care, I’m sorry. I just really want to leave.” “I tried hooking you up with someone! Can’t you just leave with whatever-his-name?”

“I don’t want to leave with Drew,” you respond bluntly.

“Ugh. Can you stop being such a prude? This is why you’re still a virgin.” She turns over to Brad and laughs with him. They’re laughing at you. For not going home and hooking up with a man 10 years older than you. You feel tears prickling in your eyes, being the target of a joke everyone seems to understand but you. Wordlessly, you shoot your friend the nastiest glare you can accomplish in the moment and leave.

You start walking before you can really think. It’s dark outside and cold, and you don’t really know where you are. Cheryl drove, of course. You can’t help but think that the whole night has been one big mistake. Sighing, you take out your phone and text your group chat, knowing exactly who would come and help you in a time like this.

Y/N Starting sharing their location

Y/N: Hey can someone come pick me up

Binnie: 👍 Hyunjinnie: On my way!

You slump against the cold concrete, letting yourself cry a little bit. Sure, you ruin your pretty makeup that you spent so long on, but who the fuck cares at this point? Wiping your eyes, you see a familiar black car pull up. Before you can stand, Changbin is already getting out of the car.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He pulls you to your feet, examining you for any signs of injury. You look at him, lip trembling, but when your eyes meet you can’t help the sobs that escape. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, pulling you into a big hug. He’s warm, and you can smell the musky scent of his cologne from here. You let it comfort you before pulling away.

“Can we just go home?” You ask.

“Of course,” he says, opening the car door for you to get in. Hyunjin shoots you a worried glance from the driver’s seat, and you give him a pathetic smile.

You notice when Changbin starts playing your favorite songs in an attempt to cheer you up, and admittedly you already feel better, though you don’t speak a word for the rest of the drive.

***

When you finally arrive in your apartment, you’re not surprised when Changbin and Hyunjin follow you in. You let out a loud sigh and face the two men looking at you expectantly.

“It went just about as I expected,” you said with a dry laugh. When neither of your friends say anything, you start speaking. The words come out faster than you’d like and you know that you’re word vomiting, but it’s fine. They were used to it by now. “Cheryl was dismissive the whole night and tried to set me up with this guy she had just met, he was like, 10 years older than me and he kind of gave me the creeps… and when I told her I wanted to leave she told me to just go home with him.” You take a deep breath, gauging their reactions. “When I told her no, she called me a virgin prude and laughed at me, so I left.”

The look of anger immediately spread on their faces and you found your own heating up from embarrassment. You looked down out at the ground, willing the tears that pricked at your lash line to go away.

“Y/N…” Changbin’s gentle voice soothed you and you immediately fell into his embrace. You spare a glance at Hyunjin and know that he’s absolutely furious. You wince.

“How dare she,” he starts. Changbin gives him a warning glare and tightens his grip on you.

Pulling away, you tuck your hair behind your ears and look at them sheepishly.

“Maybe she’s right,” you laugh. “Maybe I should’ve just gone home with some random guy. Maybe I should’ve just lost my virginity and gotten it over with.”

“Don’t say that.” It’s Changbin’s stern voice this time that pulls you out of your thoughts.

“But–”

“No,” they say in unison.

“It’s just… everybody else seems to be okay with going out, partying, loosening up, sleeping with people, and then there’s me.”

“Y/N… there’s a reason why you haven’t… slept with anyone yet, right?” Changbin asks. Hyunjin looks at you expectantly.

“I mean, of course. I was waiting for the right person.”

“So you’ve suddenly changed your mind?” Changbin says softly.

“No, but there’s no right person, Changbin. I don’t know what I’m waiting for anymore, because there’s never going to be that perfect person. I’m never going to be enough—“

“That’s not true,” Hyunjin says sternly. You give him an exasperated glare and turn around toward your room.

“Is there something you’re seeing that I’m not? Because as far as I can tell, that’s the exact truth and you know it.”

“You don’t have to sleep with anybody just because she’s pushing you to. She’s putting a lot of pressure on you and that makes her a bad friend,” Hyunjin says. “Virginity is a stupid, made up concept anyway. Don’t do it if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to, though!” You say, exasperated. “I just want to see what everybody else sees. Maybe I don’t want to fuck around, but I want to have sex!”

Before you know it you’re pushed up against the wall by Hyunjin, his head buried in your neck and his breathing heavy as if he were trying to control himself. His actions make you dizzy and your breath hitches from his contact on your skin.

“Hyune—“

“We could help.”

“What?” Your stomach drops and your breathing increases at his implications. You’re sure you misheard him.

“We could help you, if you want. You’re more than enough to us, and you should know that. Sleeping with us won’t change that, or make it any more true, but if you want to do it that badly, we’re right here.”

You gulp. “You mean both of you…? At the same time?” You allow yourself to look at Changbin who is standing with his arms crossed and his eyes dark.

“If you’re comfortable with that, yeah,” Changbin nods, meeting your eyes before looking away.

“You should want to do it for the first time with someone who really cares for you,” Hyunjin explains. His hands take place on your hips and start to rub small circles and you find yourself arching into him, already seeking his touch. “Not some random guy at the bar whose name you don’t know and won’t even try to make you cum.” You gasp slightly and Hyunjin smirks, his breath hot against your neck. Changbin lessens the space between you and finds himself at your side, mindlessly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“And we really care for you,” Changbin adds. You nod at his words as Hyunjin starts to nip at your skin, letting his tongue trace circles until he finds the spots that make you breathless.

“What… if I’m really bad?” You stutter.

“You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll show you how to do everything… make you feel good. Plus, it’s just us…” Changbin leans in and makes contact with your lips. The kiss is chaste, testing the waters, though you let out a small moan against him. When he smiles against your kiss you smile as well. Alright. You can do this. It’s just Changbin and Hyunjin. You’ve known them forever and you do trust them more than anything, even if they do annoy you and break into your house on your day off.

“Okay,” you say with a shaky breath.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin licks a thick stripe up your neck which makes you hiss, quickly swallowed up when Changbin leans in to kiss you again.

“Yeah.”

You walk to your bedroom and lead the way and even though they had been inside hundreds of times before, this felt different. The air was permeated with the thick scent of desire. You sit on your bed, looking at the floor. “Now what?”

Changbin sits down in front of you, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “Now you relax and let us make you feel good, okay? You can tell us what you like and what you don’t like, and anytime you want us to stop we will. Immediately. Does that sound good?”

You nod your head, your skin becoming flushed.

“Words, baby.” You don’t admit how those words make your heart jump right out of your chest.

“Right. Yes. Okay.”

Hyunjin sits on the bed next to you and you tilt your head to look at him. He starts by grabbing your hair and pulling you into him to meet his lips, and this time the kiss is hot and full of both desire and anticipation of what is to come.

Meanwhile, Changbin’s hands have come up to touch your thighs. You’re still wearing your dress from your night out so you’re more exposed to him than you usually would be. His large hands touch the insides of your thighs and you don’t even realize that you’re squeezing them together until he is pulling them apart, gently but with intent. His thumbs draw circles on the insides, watching the way you react to each movement.

You let out a breath into the kiss which Hyunjin takes as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, allowing himself the opportunity to swirl his tongue against yours.

When Changbin’s fingers finally make their way to your clothed core you let out a moan. You can’t help it. His two fingers slide up and down the fabric that’s already wet, though he focuses on bringing attention right to your clit. You buck your hips up into his hand.

“So needy,” Hyunjin laughs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Breathlessly you look at him in the eyes and turn away, embarrassed.

His fingers make their way to your chin, turning your head to meet his gaze again.

“It’s a good thing,” he says. “You don’t need to hide. Not from us.” With that, he pulls down the front of your dress, revealing your tits to him. He doesn’t break eye contact when his thumbs start to graze over your nipples in soft circles, teasing.

“Baby, can I take these off?” Changbin asks, his thumbs in the waistband of your underwear. You nod your head vigorously, letting out a soft chuckle from both of the men at your eagerness. When you lift your hips Changbin slides the material off of your legs, now discarded somewhere across the room.

The breath he lets out when he looks at your glistening core leaves you dizzy. “So pretty,” he all but whispers. “Just for us.” He wastes no time before touching you again with purpose. When one of his fingers teases your entrance you realize you’re already a writhing pathetic mess for them. He dips his finger into your entrance shallowly, collecting your wetness before taking it and circling it right back to your clit. Hyunjin continues his ministrations as well, thumbing your sensitive nipples while leaving wet kisses across your neck and face.

“You’re doing so good for us,” he whispers against your ear. You whimper. Your eyes are screwed shut, focused on all of the sensations on your body so you don’t even realize it when Changbin’s tongue makes direct contact with your clit, warm and wet. You gasp and lurch forward at the contact.

“What’re you doing?” you moan. “Oh my God, Changbin, what–?”

“It’s okay, I got you baby. I got you.” His tongue flicks up and down against you, and when he pushes his tongue flat against your clit and you feel his warm breath on your entrance, you finally hear the filthy sounds that are coming out of your own mouth. You try to muffle them with your arm but it’s quickly pulled away.

“Don’t,” Hyunjin says. “Let us hear you. Let us hear how good we’re making you feel.”

“It’s so good… Bin… Please don’t stop,” you plead, eyes meeting his from where he sits between your legs.

His finger starts thrusting in and out of your core at the same time Hyunjin’s lips meet your nipple, tongue flicking across one bud while his hand comes to pinch the other. It feels like a well-orchestrated plan plotted against you, you think. You’re babbling now about how close you are and your hand intertwines in Changbin’s hair. You buck your hips up against his mouth, trying to ride out your release and he lets you use his face for your pleasure happily. When he curls his one finger inside you harshly you cum, pulsing tightly on his digit.

You have half the mind to apologize for being so rough and caught up in the moment, but when you finally open your eyes you gasp. Changbin looks at you with all lust and desire and dark eyes, absolutely entranced by you and with your release completely covering his mouth. When Hyunjin comes off of you with a pop he looks quite similar, and it surprises all of you when you initiate the kiss this time, immediately open mouthed and trying to get as much of him as you can.

“Slow down, slow down,” he says with a shallow breath, pushing you away. “Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes, please,” you whine. “I need someone inside of me. Please.” They both gulp, but Hyunjin quickly regains his composure.

“You want just anybody inside you, hmm?” He teases.

“Not just anyone… You, Hyune. Then Changbin. I can take it, please.” They both groan.

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” Hyunjin laughs. He helps you out of your dress completely now and it drops to the floor. You now stare completely bare in front of your friends and you think about covering yourself up but it seems they know you better when a hand reaches for your wrist to stop the motion. The words remain unspoken this time, but you know, not in front of them do you need to hide yourself.

Changbin pushes you down gently to lay down on the bed and he lays on his side next to you. The way he stares at you almost makes you queasy, because you know deep down it’s not just lust and desire, but something more… The need to be with you, to see you, for you to be his implicitly. You wonder if he knows that you already are. That you’ve already belonged to them for the longest time. You kiss him and he kisses you back.

In front of you, Hyunjin pulls down his pants. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch and try not to let yourself become intimidated. He strokes himself a few times before he positions himself at your entrance. He looks at you, waiting for permission.

“Go ahead, Hyunjin. Please.” Your words are soft but you know he’s heard you when his tip breaches your entrance. It’s already a bit of a stretch and you take a deep breath, tilting your head back. Changbin rubs circles into your arm to soothe you and you find that it works. Hyunjin shallowly thrusts out and then back in, allowing himself to get just a bit deeper. He slowly repeats the action until he’s flush against you, his hips meeting yours. The feeling is foreign but not painful, you decide.

You watch Changbin lick his finger and then move it down to your clit, gently applying pressure. While Hyunjin hasn’t started moving yet, this allows you to relax a little bit more and your brain decides suddenly that it feels really good.

“You’re doing so good for us,” Changbin says, repeating Hyunjin’s words from earlier.

“S’good,” Hyunjin agrees. “Such a good pussy. You feel so good around me, love.” He starts to thrust now, though slow and gentle, and you start moaning. It feels different than anything you’d ever experienced before, though you know you really like it.

“Faster,” you say. Hyunjin follows your directions instantly, watching and scrutinizing every reaction you make to ensure it’s completely pleasurable for you. Changbin’s hands are all over your body, grounding you; his hands rub up and down your arms and your tits, touching any area of skin accessible to him.

Your hips start to buck up to meet Hyunjin’s. You’re getting close, you realize, though when Hyunjin picks up your legs and puts them over his shoulder, you gasp. He’s now reaching impossibly deeper inside you, and at this angle he’s able to completely control the pace. He hits that gummy spot deep inside you, one that you had never achieved reaching yourself before, and when he hits it your orgasm washes over you without warning.

You cum with a cry, pulsing tightly around his cock. His moans are louder and you can tell he’s getting closer too but he fucks you through your orgasm. As your breathing steadies he pulls out of you and releases all over your stomach and you watch in awe.

Taking two fingers, you scoop up his release and put it in your mouth, sucking it off your fingers. The two men groan at your actions which makes you smirk.

“Changbin?” You ask, beckoning the man.

“Are you sure, baby?” He asks, looking into your eyes for any signs of discomfort.

“Want you too,” you say. It’s Hyunjin’s turn to slump next to you and he does so, wrapping his arms around you while Changbin takes his position.

When Changbin pushes into you you let out an unabashed moan, pushing yourself into Hyunjin’s chest to ground yourself. He shushes you and combs his fingers through your hair. The stretch is different this time, as Changbin’s thicker but Hyunjin is longer.

“Feels good, Binnie,” you say.

“I know,” he responds. “I got you. Let me take over, okay?” And he does, at first cautious of his pace to not hurt you, but he soon follows up with a brutal pace that has your head spinning. He feels delicious inside of you just like Hyunjin did, and when you get close this time you don’t feel embarrassed by the loud sounds that come out of your body. You’re so close to your peak, almost there… when Changbin pulls out. You make a sound that comes out as a whine, but before you can complain further you’re flipped onto your hands and knees.

Changbin teases his cock up and down your wet slit, sensitive and already so close to an orgasm, and the sound you make is downright pathetic.

“You want it?” Changbin teases.

“Oh my God, please… Changbin please, I was so close, don’t tease,” you beg. Hyunjin practically coos and his lips meet yours right as Changbin sinks back into you. You feel delirious from the pleasure and it doesn’t take long before you cum again. Hyunjin’s kisses drink up all of the moans and breaths that come from your body as Changbin pounds into you.

Changbin and Hyunjin spit praise at you as you finish, and shortly after you feel Changbin’s release all over your ass. You slump onto the bed, tired, and welcome Hyunjin’s arms around your frame. You nuzzle deeper into his embrace, entirely content. You barely register when Changbin comes to clean you off and then lays next to you. You’re in between your two favorite people in the entire world, completely safe and content. You let out a happy sigh.

“Did you have a good time?” Changbin questions. You almost laugh.

“Of course I did. I couldn’t imagine a better first time. Thank you… Thank you both.”

“Do you think you’ll regret it?” Hyunjin asks.

“No. Never.” You look at his worried gaze and press a firm kiss to his lips. You’re satisfied laying between the two men, relishing their soft touches and warm embraces when you have a thought that makes you laugh.

“Cheryl is going to be thrilled,” you say with an eye roll.

Hyunjin groans. “God. Don’t tell her. She doesn’t deserve to know. In fact, you should block her,” he reasons.

“Yeah. She’s kind of a bitch,” Changbin agrees. You and Hyunjin look at him wide-eyed, not used to him talking about other people like that. Then all three of you laugh. You look at Changbin and can tell that there’s something else that he wants to say.

“I don’t want you to do this with anybody else,” he says with a deep sigh. “I want it to be us. Just me and Hyunjin. I don’t want anybody else to see you this way.” His words carry a deeper meaning and you know it. You bury your head into his chest and Hyunjin’s arms wrap around your waist.

“I love you both. Do you know that?” You say. You’ve told them a hundred times, but the words needed to be said again. Albeit they are now said in a much more intimate context, you will let them interpret it however they want. They both hum in agreement, repeating the words back to you.

You’re not sure what this meant for your friendships or your relationships, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not now. The three of you fall asleep in your bed that night in an entanglement of arms and limbs, and you sleep peacefully knowing that no matter what, they would be there for you when you wake up. They have always been there, and they always will be. *** A/N: I'm excited to announce that this is part 1/4 of a SKZ threesome series with various members ;) I have big things planned

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