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Hi Desi 💗 Requesting numbers 6, 9, 19 and 23 for the end of year asks please
Thank you, d!!! 🥰 Ooo you gave me a lot to think about!
6. I answered episode of tv that defined the year for me as Lone Star s4 e12, but right behind that was obviously e16 and SOULMATES!! I remember spiraling and really worried they might actually give TK Huntington's but then they had that amazing scene, and Carlos called him "baby" for the first time to us, and I knew it would be okay.
9. Ooo best month of the year was probably July, I think? The summer months are some of my busiest and most fun because we have so many friends visit and stay with us throughout it, like almost every weekend we have someone staying with us! In July we had some college friends we hadn't seen in like 10 years visit us, and we had them and our local friends at our house hanging out, and it was a lot but so much fun!
19. Excited about for next year? Getting more Lone Star of course, and if I'm really lucky I might finally get the cat or dog I have wanted for years 😭 I treat my roomba like it's a pet, so that's a sign I need an actual living creature to talk to 🤣
23. Sending a message to yourself back on the first day of the year? Awww, let's see. Oh I would tell myself NOT to stop working out, because I was doing so well for 2 years and then I got lazy! The timing is also similar to when I became hyper fixated on Lone Star, but I'm sure that's totally unrelated 🙃
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WOOO second part to the pornstar!au (Tiger Harry). Find the first part here
If you'd like to read more goodies from me (including a RIDETHET!GER threesome, already up!), my patreon is HERE :)
CONTENT/WARNINGS: p-in-v, anal sex, Sir kink, choking-ish, light dom-sub dynamics
WC: 4K
“They’re both just such pretty holes,” Harry coos, and he thumbs apart her lips before folding over her to reach for his priorly discarded smartphone. His confession is mottled by a sigh, “…I simply cannot decide.”
Tiger has perfected the art of edging.
Not even in a literal, tethered-from-the-sweet-peak-of-precipice with an iron hand wrenching backwards sense — though, she’s seen plenty of that through his camera work. It’s a finely formulated craft, making her skin itchy and her cunt weepy before he’s even really touched her. And he hasn’t. She thinks, maybe he’ll nip at her clit with the pads of a forefinger and thumb, but he doesn’t even do that. Instead, he takes a step back. The phone pings. Action.
“Spread,” Harry tells her. Light. Easy. Pats at one cheek, “Here.”
Y/N obliges. She rolls onto her shoulders and tucks her arms behind her, splaying her fingers and pulling the flesh apart there. There’s a hiss like a breath coming in through little nooks between his bare teeth. It feels absolutely glorious.
And lewd. A torrid kind of heat climbs up her neck. Lingers in the apples of her cheeks when Tiger pets at her thigh — probably taping a close-up vista of her oozing pussy — and comments, “Look at that pretty, little cunt.”
Her digits jolt over her flesh, squeezing it apart almost desperately when he traces the back of a finger beside her clit, and then meanders up to her leaky entrance, prodding with the tips of two fingers. Not quite breaching. Tiger slinks one — a forefinger— up the short trail of her taint and nudges at the hilt of her plug, tracing the petals. Stuffed with silicone flora. Pretty.
“Fuck. Fucking gorgeous.”
He sighs all soft behind her, and trails lower.
“I think—“
Harry scopes the hood of her clit with a thumb and then pulls it back to scrape with the pad of his middle finger — a motion that makes her jerk and wrests a soft sound from the back of her throat. A deviously mirthy hum comes from behind.
“I’ll fuck you here—“
The tip of a finger brushes her weepy, pulsing seam.
“—first. Stretch you out a bit before. Sound good?”
She hums against the sheets. Please. Tiger traces the rim and sinks in to the second knuckle with paltry notice. His fingers are long, fill up more space than her own. Lengthier than hers. Girthier. They prod at the nooks and crannies that yearn to be grazed with little effort on his part, and by the time he’s sunk to the base of his chilled ring bands and added a third digit, Y/N is nearly drooling into the sheets.
“You are such a tight, little thing, sweetheart,” Harry hums. Enunciates his speech with the wet squelch of his fingers plunging, cradled warm and wet by her sloppy pussy.
A mewl gets muffled in linen when he scissors the pair, stretching the seam taut, and rolls his thumb in slippery circles where her slick has trickled. There’s heat swelling in the trench of her tummy; a warm tide pool sloshing in waves that crest. Higher and higher. Building. It overcomes her — this tsunami, blighting her ataraxy until she’s a slobbering mess at the foot of his bed, keeled over.
“Gonna—“ Y/N warns, brows pleated and mouth pried apart, tongue brushing bunched fabric with little couth.
Tiger milks her through it, rigid fingers pumping and thumb swirling clusters of spheres into her pulsing flesh, until all that’s left of her are melty shambles with a weakly fluttering cunt. And it does flutter, throbbing emptily as his digits withdraw. Sucks onto them like it doesn’t want to let go, and then spasms around bare atoms like it needs to be corked back up.
“Good girl,” Tiger praises. He sounds soft and pleased. Concentrated as his cockhead prods at her hole— “Got my fingers all wet, too. That’s two for two.”
He swipes them at the back of her thigh, so she feels how slick. The pink border of his mouth is probably twitchy. Traces of a smile scratch at his dialogue the way something claws in the pit of her tummy as he nudges with the fat tip. She feels melty. Frozen fudge on a summer day dribbling down the handle. She thinks, for a moment, with her knees and her shoulders seeping into the mattress, that English has slipped her mind. Nothing plucks at her vocal cords, almost as if they’ve been snipped entirely. A high sound crawls from the back of her mouth, though, when Harry tucks his cock into her.
He’d been big in her palms — the pads of her digits hadn’t quite kissed around his shaft when she was kneeling, sweeping her tongue at the slit of his ruddy head, and her jaw had strained wide apart to fit him in and swallow him down. Even still, Y/N hadn’t anticipated the stretch. He bullies his cock into her — just about halfway — forcing against her spongy walls in a way that’s nearly too much. Like a paw wriggling into a glove that’s two sizes too small. She feels him in her belly, deep, as he sinks in, inch by inch (hisses escaping the cracks of his bared teeth and scraping at the edges), and bottoms out. She tastes clean cotton on her tongue, mouth wide and muted dumb, eyes screwed.
A gasp shatters the lull, like one sucked in bobbing to the surface of a sea that’s going to ripple and kick her back under. It thaws in her achy lungs as a soft, dreamy moan when Harry fetters her wrists with one hand at the small of her back, rocks out, and pumps back in.
“There you go, little bird. Nice and—“
She cries out as his hips snap.
“Full?”
He rolls out slow, and her fingers twitch when he pummels in to the hilt. Ragged, little noises scarper from her mouth like he’s punched them from her from the inside. The ping of the phone sundering its video doesn’t register, but she realizes he’s tossed the phone again when he pets his free hand over her ass and stamps a sharp, stinging blow to it. Harry sets a brutal pace, then. Soft strokes that strain her rim taut and give her room to adjust simmer off when something scathing boils in the trench of his belly. He grapples her joints in his palm firmly, and the tempo of his hips smacking into her morphs merciless. Used and abused.
“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Y/N whines when his thumb presses at the hilt of petals stretching her littlest hole.
“Fuck, yeah,” He mirrors, snarling, and twists at the plug to siphon a whimper.
Inferno spumes her arteries when he wriggles the plug out, groaning, and replaces it with two wet, blunt fingertips. Three. They stuff her fuller than the plug had and have her wheezing for oxygen to mingle with the scorch that permeates her veins.
Her knees shuffle over the sheets, she squirms when he drills into her again and again and again, and he grapples at a love handle to keep her tight in place, “You asked for this— and you’re gonna take it, baby.”
Y/N does. There’s not any alternative when he hammers into her and burrows half-moons into her flesh with the ends of his short nails, but she doesn’t want there to be. She scrapes at the side of his palm with crooked fingers — the one that cuffs her wrists together and pants into the sheets.
She’s seen Tiger fuck. She’s watched the videos — a little redhead clawing at the stair-railing with wet eyes as he coiled her hair tight over his knuckles from behind, or a brunette keening under his frame as he tucked her calves over his shoulders, pounding in from the tip to the hilt and all the way back out. The ones with a curvy blonde clawing at the sheets, whimpering as he pummeled between her thighs, and the one where the woman with the pixie juddered helplessly over his lap, crying out as he stippled a slick trail of open-mouthed kisses up her jugular and manually bounced her over his cock with a firm grip at her hips that dwarfed her size. Y/N has seen so much of the impact in screen captures — slobbered chins, streaming eyes with mucked kohl and smudged liner. Tips of noses hued cerise or pinky and lips swollen and sloppy with spit. Still, she’s somewhat surprised to feel mirrored evidence over her own face as tears drip in rivulets over the apples of her cheeks, as she gnaws at her bottom lip and drools onto his expensive mattress. It’s not the aftermath yet, and Y/N is sure she’s going to be a disheveled mess by the time the camera on the dresser shuts off.
His cock spits ribbon after ribbon into her with little warning. He pounds into her, something cruel and brutal, husking growls. A groan slides up from the depths of his chest, and he slurs a string of curses, fingers twitching in her other hole when he empties into her pulsing cunt. Y/N absolutely milks him through it. Her slick walls spasm over his cock, and she whines like the same effects curdle her bloodstream and erupt across neurons.
When Harry pulls out, fisting at the base and gruffing a hum, he thumbs a bead of cum that leaks out to coat her clit. She absolutely sings, at that.
He lets go of her wrists. Twisting his fingers gently from between her cheeks, Harry blows out a breath and—
Y/N keens like he’s slapped her when Tiger splays his palms over the globes of her ass, spreads, and spits where he’d been fingering her apart. It’s glorious. Harry presses his cockhead to the glob of saliva smearing, still manhandling apart one cheek, and tells her, “Spread,” voice worn and mottled with pants like his heartbeat is thundering ichor in his ears.
She does. Her own heart hammers behind the caging of her ribs when he makes a lewd sound, breathy and awed as he smacks over her asshole with the head. He slides against her perineum when she jolts, spine zagging, and hums.
“Is it gonna fit?” Y/N beckons. Her cheek smushes to the wet spot she’s made against the sheets. It’s the most gloriously humiliating revelation.
He winds around the room to the nightstand, where, through tear smeared peripherals (like a bleary windshield coated with condensation), she watches him cull a bottle of lube. The cap clicks. Harry sets a knee up, and the bed creaks, meshing with a sound of amusement and a slick hand working lubricant over his shaft. Her lashes flutter as Tiger works two wet fingers into her, to the hilt, unceremoniously, scissoring. He pulls them out.
“F’course—“
Y/N gnaws into the smooth, slicky flesh beside her molars.
Tiger grunts. She’s forced to arch at the palm over the dimples at the base of her spine. As if to test the theory, the slippery head of his cock nudges to the puckering seam.
“…We’ll make it fit.”
Taking anal from Tiger, Y/N learns, is a feat.
A pornographically debauched sort of rite of passage. She’s seen the pictures, too. The teasers he’ll post on X with only the pink tip of his cock in frame, a ringed, vibrantly lacquered hand cradling the back of his partner’s thigh to tuck up and showcase an asshole oozing cum. And the videos; the ones where the girls rake their nails into his tri’s, knuckles bleached, necks strained as garbled moans climb up their throats as he burrows in. They’re always blissed out, after; their visages melty and the lines where their foreheads and hair meet teemed with sweat. She has to wonder, though, as he prods in, how they quite make it fit.
A high sound and a tight squeeze part-way over the tip has him petting his fingertips over the metacarpals spiking through the skin at the back of her hand.
“Just breathe for me, baby,” Harry tells her, soft unlike the seat of his jawbone and the grit of his ivory teeth, after, “I’ll go— slow.”
Y/N inhales. It’s stolen from her lungs in the form of a long, low groan when he stuffs the tip past and the rim rides over the ridge.
“Is that too much, baby? Yeah?”
She suckles a bit of the sheet between her teeth when he mends the stretch of his sloppy, wet cockhead with a thumb that swipes from her leaky slit and meshes cum against his cock and the taut rim of her other hole.
“…That’s okay, we’ll get you there,” Harry coos, “That’s the hard bit all done, yeah?”
It’s all hard. Hard, vascular flesh like a rock spearing her open, sinking in, sedate and measured. Viciously careful and slick, accompanied by a vicious stretch, despite the lengthy preparation. He’s measured in the way he stuffs in, nearly centimeter by centimeter, pausing along the way down his shaft. Even still, it’s an ache that settles deep the further he sheathes — the kind she feels down to the marrow in the little bones constructing her spine, her pelvis, her ribs when they refuse to expand for her lungs.
“Relax, sweetheart, relax. Squeezing me so snug.”
It’s just advice, but it’s strained; filthy. It makes her cunt twitch.
“Push out a little for me. It’ll— yeah, slide in nice an’ easy if you do,” Harry coaxes, pausing the leisure roll forward of his hips. Her hole flutters over him. He makes it another inch.
“Just like that, little bird.”
She’s been holding her breath for twenty-three seconds by the time Harry pats at one of her hands and instructs, “Play with your pretty clit.”
It’s sore, but not in the way that it aches as he presses into her. The pads of her fingers brush milky cum that’s managed to seep out with the flex of her muscles, and they draw a circle over the sensitively overstimulated bud that droplets have leaked over. Her lips pry apart that way her fingertips pry bliss into the outstretched palms of her neurons, grappling for pleasure.
“Oh.”
“S’it sore?”
“Mm-Mhm.”
“But it feels good,” Harry states.
It’s just that — a statement, no inquiry to the borderline prideful cadence of his words when he sinks in three-quarters of the way. It’s enough to have her breathlessly wheezing over her noises, digits stuttering in their shapes as she pinches at the hood.
“Breathe,” Tiger chastises.
For the first time, his voice is whetted, like the edge of a cutlass, and she imagines his dark eyebrows creasing. The tattoo of a ruddy handprint — a smack — gleans a loud cry enmeshed from the sheer sting of it and the way Y/N jolts, bouncing forward and back on unanticipated inches. It’s cruel. Mean with his peal of laughter.
He’s soft again. Mirthy. “You did that, not me.”
“You startled me,” she argues. Her chortles flux into another, blunt, “Oh,” when Harry rocks out a little and back in, cooing in feigned ruth.
“Oh, did I?” Harry murmurs, trailing a wide palm up the indent of her arched spine with shallow plunges, “Poor baby.”
She squirms when his fingertips wind to the vale of her waist, scrabbling up the ladder of her ribcage lightly. It’s only for a split second, but it draws a squawk and a string of giggles; in turn, a low hiss from him.
“Fuck,” Harry grapples onto her hips, craning his neck, a grin lining his syllables when he admits, “Every time you laugh, s’like, squeezing me.”
It’s devious — the way his palm scopes the cinched flesh in the same area it had the first time, reveling in the squeal the wriggling pads pry. Her jaw clinches and she nearly bites through her tongue when her teeth latch together. Despite the stretch, her hips lurch forward on their own volition and her knees shamber towards the headboard, the circles over her clit all but forgotten as her arms outstretch for freedom. It only gives him a wider canvas.
A soft huff seeps from his nostrils, like the view of her hectically sprawling is entertainment. He pins her bones in place by the hips and lugs her back, sharply enough for her to groan at the pump into her.
“No,” Harry scolds, tacking an ankle with his hand. He bends one of her knees back and keeps a grip over a love handle on the opposite side. “Where d’you think you’re going? I wasn’t done.”
He’s polite enough to cease the tickle torture. Considerate, on his part, she supposes, since he’s got the sole of her foot aimed to the Rough sawn oak beamed ceiling. The gunge of kindling lust spumes, and it clogs the sharp anticipation of his thumb pressing to the tender spot between her heel and the ball of her foot, like cruor. Instead, Tiger hones on jabbing into her fluttery asshole, drawing a slew of progressively humiliating sounds. Her top teeth seal over the sheet and she gnaws the fabric in between her incisors like a feral dog.
She doesn’t really get it until his balls are slapping against her flesh with the fervor of his tempo; what it’s like to be used and abused by Tiger. Mostly, it entails being glazed with cum, inside and out; utilizing the same loads to swipe over her clit that leaks from her sloppy cunt as he pounds into her ass with little mercy. No intent to give. And still, he gives plenty. She feels him deep, spearing somewhere between the knobs of her spine and the soft flesh sheathing her tummy. She can’t recall a time she’s felt so full, vena thrumming something sanguine mottled by him. The ache spurs the bliss building at her pulsing clit, and she retires to chew at the back of her free hand, tucked under her wet face.
Just up until the point when he yanks at her hair from behind, spiking tingles at the crown of her head, and directs through husky breaths, “Sit up. Up. On your hands.”
Y/N clambers. An inky forearm hitches over the column of her throat from behind. A sharper arch, a muscular bind over her neck, a palm that dwarfs the knob of her shoulder, and hammering at her backside with no remorse. His nails claw into her love handle, and in turn, Y/N scrapes at the tits of his mermaid, her flowy tendrils, her tail.
“You really— are a little anal whore, aren’t you, little bird?”
She slobbers over his forearm, “Yes, Sir— oh— shit, oh, fuck,” so he spiles her mouth with a couple of his fingers. She nips at his knuckles, and he digs green into her deltoid.
“Fhuh—“ Y/N slurs around the digits.
He strokes a stuttery whimper from her taste buds.
She keens, shrill, when Tiger slips his fingers out and smears her own spit over her cheek, “Oh, fuck— you’re so deep—“
Her eyes are screwed, and even still she feels the pant of his grin against the opposite cheek. The way his lips ghost and graze her skin wetly with a low murmur, “Fuck, yeah.”
He twists his head and siphons the same fingers to his own mouth, gets them wetter, and bats the hand between her legs away to pinch at her clit. To fuse saliva, and cum, and desperation, working ardent over her bud.
“Such a fucking mess. S’leaking all over my balls, you know that?” Harry purrs, nipping at her earlobe when she whines, trembling, “M’gonna fuck it back into you, after.”
Y/N erupts. It spalls into flinders with sharp borders, somewhere between his cockhead burrowing deep in her tummy, the stretch around him, the pads swiping at her clit, and the filth he muzzles into her hair. She shakes like a waving bract, torn apart in his palms, spewing cries. The tight spasm over his cock has Harry chasing his own release, shuddering behind her and doubling down in a brutal tempo that draws soft whimpers from her mouth. The sharpest one comes when his chest rumbles flush with her back on a long groan, and he twitches in her as he presses deep and empties every bit that he can manage.
Rough sex, even with a borderline stranger, merits a soft touch to meld the jagged edges of the shards back together. When he seeps out, hissing softly and bobbing, slicked with cum and lubricant, Y/N crumples into the sheets like the junctions of her joints have unfused, slipping from their sockets to melt away into a puddle. It provides an optimal view of her abused holes, one puckering at the air and dripping fresh cum. Just as he’d promised, Harry spoons a rill that trickles out with the pad of his thumb and brushes it back over the slick hole he’d just been tucked into. Feeds it back in to coax a mewl.
“Two for two,” Tiger parrots, dragging the backs of his knuckles up her thigh. It’s an obvious reference to two orgasms each, now, and wears a smile.
If Y/N wasn’t so melty, she’d probably snort. She manages something like a grunt with her face planted to the mattress. She’s probably losing brain cells. The bed doesn’t feel breathable.
Harry nudges at her hips until her pelvis sinks flush against the sheets and her feet dangle over the edge of the mattress. Then, he crawls up over her, cock brushing her clean skin soiled along the way. She rolls over against her will. Gets bracketed by his arms as he looms over, mussed, damp coils of his hair pendulous.
“Hello.”
She swallows. Her ass is going to absolutely ache tomorrow. Y/N finds she doesn’t mind.
“…Hello.”
“You took that well,” Harry tells her, head cocked and talc glinting.
The boundaries of his ruddy mouth tick upwards into a lax smile, and even still, there’s an eagerly …awake mien to his composition. She wonders how, after that, and how his cock hasn’t gone down, a plurry in shade and sloppily oiled. It prods against the bone at the side of her pelvis.
“You …gave it well,” she responds, forming the words despite the way they feel garbled in her mouth, between her parted teeth, off her lips like the crevices of her gums have been numbed with lidocaine.
He ducks his chin and laughs.
Y/N ends up lodged by his armpit, tangled by the firm muscle of his arms, thighs flush together, with her cheek squished to the plush of his pec; a cushion over where his heartbeat is clattering.
“I’m all sticky.”
“You like it,” Tiger sighs, raking a palm back through his tendrils, off his forehead, and musses the tousled curls there further.
It feels nice when his fingertips graze up her nape, sliding into the forestry of her roots. They tug lightly at the follicles at the back of her skull in a way that makes euphoria seep down her nape. It settles in the first knob of her spine and slink through to the next. She rolls her shoulders.
“D’you wanna shower? I’ve got one of those rain showerheads on the ceiling.”
If her inner thighs weren’t crusting over, the suggestion would probably feel like a much more intimate dyadic. Especially because she’s well aware he’ll slide in alongside her, slippery. Soapy froth sluicing down his abdomen, sudsy palms cupping at her backside, trailing between her thighs, and rinsing the evidence of their collaboration down the drain. It tastes like another sex tape altogether.
Harry has grapefruit musk body wash and a citrusy shampoo in his shower. They’re the same ones she’ll lather into her own matted bird’s nest.
He notes, from the sink, twisting the silvery band and thumbing over the center, where a tetragonal, incarnadine stone is seated, “You got my rings all sticky.”
Y/N stretches her arms over her head. There’s semen spilling down the insides of her legs. She twists her head and meets him in the mirror just in time to see his eyes crest, his mouth purse and carve into a simper.
“D’you wanna polish them off with your tongue?”
#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#harry styles dirty one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfic#harry styles filth#harry styles fic#dom!harry x sub!reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles au#harry smut#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#sub!reader#dom!harry#pornstar!harry#pornstar!au
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when fantasy becomes reality - mingi x reader x yunho
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an; first collab with @thehereticdiaries!!!! this is a 2 part fic so go and read part 1 here!
mingi x reader x yunho
genre; smut, pwp, lil bit of fluff
word count; 2,9k
warnings/tags; pwp, yungi threesome wooo!, unprotected sex (don't do that), creampie, meandom!yunho, sorta softdom!mingi, definitely dom!mingi, choking, degradation, lil bit of praising, pet names (think I used babe, baby, doll, probably others), reader is literally tossed around/manhandled, if i missed anything lmk <3
MDNI - smut under cut
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As you tried to steady your breathing, Mingi hovered over your face, reaching his hand down to grab at your neck again, “you in there babe?”
You let out a quiet moan, “yeah, gimme more, want more.” You tried to reach out to the side to grab for Yunho, but he was already walking towards your feet. Him and Mingi shared a look before Yunho turned his attention back to you.
“Think you can hold yourself up for a second?”
You blinked at him, “huh?”
He reached for your ankles, squeezing the one to get your attention, “just wanna move you around, that’s all.”
You nodded and let him and Mingi move you, taking the rest of your clothing off as they did so. You were now laying on the table with your ass up in the air, Yunho moving to grab a handful of it before bringing his hand down with an audible slap. You gripped onto the edge of the table, trying to bite back a moan, but Mingi made his way to stand in front of your face, bringing a hand down to grip your chin, while his other hand went to palm his half hard cock. He tilted your head up so you could look up in his eyes. You vaguely registered a belt buckle being undone behind you, but Mingi wouldn’t let you move your head to see what was going on. It wasn’t until you felt Yunho’s fingers sliding through your folds that you let out a shaky gasp.
“Yeah baby? Does that feel good?” Mingi bent down so he was eye level with you before shuffling his pants down and finally freeing his cock. He stood back up and brought his now fully hard cock to your lips, tapping the head against them. “Think you can help me out while Yunho plays with you?”
You nodded feverishly, feeling Yunho’s fingers slip inside you, letting out a drawn out moan as Mingi held your jaw with one hand and guided his cock into your mouth with the other. You were busy trying to brace yourself on the table with your hands, so Mingi guided his cock in and out of your mouth with his hips, snaking his hands through your hair. He gathered all of your hair in his one hand so he could bring one of your hands to his thigh.
“Tap me if it’s too much, got it?” You nodded dumbly as he began to move his hips at an agonizingly slow pace. You looked up at him as he began to fuck your mouth, watching the way he tried to bite back moans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. When he finally opened his eyes back up, he made eye contact with Yunho who was busy lining himself up with your entrance.
Seeing Mingi like that almost made Yunho cum immediately. The way his skin flushed under his partially undone shirt, the way his face contorted in pleasure, lowering his eyes down even more to see your lips wrapped around his cock. It was almost too much for him, he lowered his eyes so he could watch himself disappear inside of you.
While Mingi had you busy with his cock, Yunho had finally decided he wanted to fuck you, he began slowly pushing his cock into you. You moaned around Mingi, causing him to gasp and let out a string of moans above you, which in turn caused Yunho to let out a few broken moans as he continued to push inside of you. You hadn’t gotten the chance to get a good look at Yunho’s cock before you started, but from what you could feel, he was huge. His cock just barely brushed against your cervix, stretching you out just enough to teeter the line between painful and pleasurable. Your moaning and Yunho’s pushing had caused you to bring Mingi deeper into your mouth, his grip tightening on your head at the feeling.
Once Yunho had fully seated himself inside of you, he stilled inside of you long enough for you to grow impatient, causing you to whine around Mingi’s cock, causing him to whimper. Yunho brought both hands to your ass, smacking your left cheek and harshly grabbing your right, “oh you are so fucking spoiled, huh? How many times did you come already? Poor Mingi here hasn’t even finished once, you brat.” He finally started to move his hips, dragging his cock so slowly inside of you. You wanted to tell him to hurry up and fuck you, but Mingi kept your mouth occupied and his grip on your hair continued to tighten, only bringing you closer to his pelvis. Between Yunho’s torturously slow pace and Mingi’s speed beginning to increase, your head filled with cotton, replacing any thoughts that would have formed. Mingi continued to pick up speed, your throat beginning to feel raw, drool covering your chin as you dumbly gazed up at him through your lashes. He let out a loud whimper as he looked down and saw you, “oh my fucking god, look at you baby. You look so good with my cock down your throat. You take me so well, keep going just a little bit more.” He snaked his hand that wasn’t in your hair down to your throat and gripped hard, causing you to moan around his cock. “Yeah baby feel that? Feel how far I am? You can take me a little more, can’t you?”
Once Yunho heard Mingi talking to you, he started to pick up the pace, fucking into you harder, causing you to take more of Mingi into your mouth. Mingi made the mistake of looking up from you to look at Yunho again, the two locking eyes again.
Yunho let out a heavy sigh, “yeah, how’s her mouth feel Min? Bet she feels real nice. Bet you can’t wait to fuck her, huh?”
Mingi knit his brows together, “oh my–fuck– Yunho she feels fucking amazing. Oh my god I’m so close though, fuck, shit–baby you better swallow.”
You gave his thigh a small squeeze letting him know you were alright. Then you brought your hand down to his balls, touching them with just enough pressure to send him over the edge. Mingi came in your mouth with a long moan, followed by smaller whimpers and whines as he slowed his pace to a stop, taking his cock out of your mouth with a shudder. He bent down to your eye level and leaned in for a searing kiss, attempting to stabilize you by holding your chin while Yunho continued to pound into you. You tried to kiss Mingi back, but Yunho began to fuck into you harder, eventually bringing a hand underneath you to play with your clit, making you break away from Mingi.
With Mingi out of your mouth, you could finally speak, “Mingi, baby, ‘m close. Please, please please–”
He cupped the sides of your face, “please what pretty girl? What do you want?”
Yunho spoke up as he landed another smack to your ass, “not yet.”
You shook out of Mingi’s grip he had on your face to turn around and look at Yunho, “no?” You whined, “what do you mean no? I’m close I can’t–”
Yunho gripped your hips, likely bruising them in the process, “you know what I fucking mean and you’ll fucking wait. You were so impatient earlier, you’ll wait until I say you can cum or you’ll be sorry.”
Mingi brought you back to his attention, “just listen to me baby, keep your eyes on me. You’re taking him so well, huh? Such a good dumb slut for us,” this time he brought both hands to your neck to squeeze, causing you to clench around Yunho.
“Jesus fuck Min, do that again, she loves it.”
Mingi continued to keep his hands around your neck alternating between squeezing and resting, by this point you were nothing but a pile of mush and a hole for them to use, brain power practically drained. You tried one more time with Yunho, “Yun, baby, please – haah– wanna cum. Please, please,” clenching around him one more time to get his attention.
“Fuck yes baby, I think you’ve been so good for me.” He leaned over so he was now by your ear with Mingi. “Come on pretty girl, make a mess for me. Cum for me you fuckin’ slut.”
Hearing Yunho and Mingi talk to you for these last couple of thrusts was enough to send you over the edge again. You weren’t even sure how many times you had come already, but this one was stronger than the last ones, making your whole body shiver and making your vision blur for a moment.
After you came Yunho slowed his thrusts back down to his original slow pace, “such a good plaything for us. Do you want to keep going?”
You nodded aggressively mumbling a yes to him.
Mingi’s eyebrows raised, “aw, never satisfied, huh? I think I know something you’ll like.” He turned to Yunho and winked. It took him a moment, but he understood what Mingi was talking about.
Yunho fully pulled out of you making you whine at the loss of the fullness. Then he turned you on your back, pulling you to sit up on the table again. You briefly registered Mingi slipping behind you to lay flat on the table longways. Mingi then wrapped his arms around you, bringing your back to his chest to lay on the table with him. He took your legs and hooked them over his, spreading you out for him and Yunho. He put one hand on your hip, the other on his cock to help line him up with your still dripping pussy. He slipped in and let you sink down with ease, the both of you letting you a string of curses and whimpers. His cock felt a lot different inside of you than when it was in your mouth, he was still just as thick, but he felt heavier. It was a different feeling from Yunho, who was standing at the edge of the table watching you two. He eventually made his way to the edge of the table where your legs were, looking like he was about to reenter you.
He spoke up, momentarily disrupting the thick fog you found your head to be in, “pretty girl look at me. You still think you can handle us?” He brought his cock back to you, tapping it on your clit, making your legs twitch.
You blinked at him, “huh? Yeah. Of course I can wha–” your moans cut off whatever the rest of that thought would have been. Yunho began to push into you again, right next to Mingi’s cock, causing you to let out a loud, borderline pornographic moan. You had no idea you were capable of having both of them inside of you at once, but you were beyond thankful it worked. You had never felt this full in your entire life, the both of them just sitting fully inside of you only stirring that lightheadedness back up in you, making you slowly float away from them for a moment.
Once the two of them had fully settled inside of you, Yunho brought his hands to your hips, resting just above Mingi’s, he looked down at where you all were joined and shot you a wicked grin.
“Had I known you’d let us do this, I would’ve snatched your computer up weeks ago.” He let out a long, low groan as he began to move his hips, causing Mingi to let out a whimper at the new stimulation.
“Should have done this the first time I saw you writing your dirty little stories in class,” Mingi panted behind you.
“Oh, you’re absolutely right, Min. We should have bent you over the desk for writing fucking porn instead of paying attention.”
They had settled into a rhythm that had made your eyes glaze over, as one of them would pull back, the other would thrust into you, making sure you were never not full with one of their cocks. It was driving you insane, all you could do was lay on top of Mingi and take it, tears beginning to stream down the sides of your face. The only things keeping you from floating away entirely were their hands on you, Mingi had a bruising grip on your hips, Yunho had one hand tangled in your hair, the other resting above Mingi’s on your hip. Every couple of thrusts, Yunho would lightly tug on your hair, bringing you back to reality and forcing you to hold eye contact, which only brought you closer to another orgasm.
Underneath you, Mingi lightly bit the outer shell of your ear, “look at you pretty girl, doing so good for us, taking two cocks. Who knew you could be such a slut. You’re our slut, right?” He squeezed your hips as he thrust back into you, causing you to let out a long whine,
“Yeah, ‘m your slut. I’m all yours.”
Yunho gave another tug to your hair, bringing your attention back to him, “fuck– dirty girl, do you have any idea what you do to us? You make us fucking crazy– this pussy is making me crazy.” He brought his hand from your hip down to your abused clit, rubbing it for the nth time so far, “c’mon slut I know you can come again. I’m close, want you to come with us.”
Mingi whimpered from underneath you, “shit– yes baby come with us please oh my god,” his thrusts began to get sloppy as he was about to come for the second time. Yunho wasn’t too far behind him, his thrusts becoming more frantic. You laid there, shaking from the overstimulation, letting them use you as you came for the possibly fifth time during this whole thing. Your orgasm caused your walls to clench so tightly around the men that they both came with noisy moans, shuddering as they rode out their highs.
With the three of you now rendered to a sweaty pile of bodies, Yunho caught his breath, pulling out of you with a shiver. Mingi followed after a couple more minutes, whimpering at the overstimulation as he slid out. You continued to lay there on top of Mingi, fading in and out of consciousness.
Yunho was the first to speak up, “hey doll, why don’t we all get out of here, huh? We can take care of you back at our place, or we can even go to yours if you want?”
You mumbled to him, hoping you were forming anything coherent in the process, “wanna go back with you guys. Can’t move.”
Yunho and Mingi exchanged a look, stifling laughter as they maneuvered you around, redressing you and making you decent enough so you could leave the study room with them. Once they had you looking decent, they did the same with themselves. With you sitting back on the table, they held out their hands to you, Mingi questioning you, “think you can walk back with us?”
You blinked at him and attempted to stand, you were able to, but you had the grace of a newborn deer. Safe to say they put you in the middle of their bodies and helped you on the way back to their place.
Once you all reached the front door, Yunho unlocked it and Mingi led you inside to the couch, letting you finally lay down again, the ache between your legs starting to grow.
Before you could totally pass out, Yunho came over to the couch, sitting down and bringing your legs to rest on his lap, rubbing your calves as he sat there with you. Mingi rejoined you two, but he sat on the floor in front of you, reaching for your arm and copying the motions Yunho was doing to your legs. You all sat in a comfortable silence for a while, before you could drift off, Mingi spoke up from his spot on the floor, causing you to jump a bit.
“Did you ever want two boyfriends?”
You furrowed your brows, “did I what?”
“Yeah, did you ever want two?”
You sat up a bit, “is this your way of asking me?”
You heard Yunho struggling to hide his laughter, “oh and I’m sure you had a better way of asking, huh?”
He turned to Mingi, “well we were going to wait a bit and let you rest, but clearly somebody got ahead of themselves.” Mingi rolled his eyes at him.
You huffed a laugh, “it’s a good thing you guys are handsome, but yes, I’d love two boyfriends.” You smiled as they realized what you said to them, their own smiles beaming back at you. Mingi hopped up on the couch, stealing a kiss from you before Yunho moved in for a kiss as well. Mingi moved so he could sit behind you and play with your hair, Yunho bringing your legs back over him, your lovely moment was then interrupted by an obnoxious stomach growl.
“I guess that’ll happen if the only thing you’ve eaten today is Mingi,” Yunho moved away from your swatting hand as you rolled your eyes at him.
“Just because you said that now you’re paying for dinner!”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
please do not repost or translate my work
#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez hard hours#ateez x you#kpop smut#mingi smut#mingi x reader#song mingi#yunho smut#jeong yunho#yunho x reader#ateez yunho#ateez mingi
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୨୧ GUESS ˒˒ AU ( PT.1 )
─── ﹙🎱﹚with the label of "casual" put on yours and giselle's relationship, all you could do was continue it, which meant letting your feelings linger, or break it off completely, but fuck, was it difficult with aeri uchinaga being just so, her. INSPIRED BY GUESS BY CHARLI XCX FEAT. BILLIE EILISH.
pairing. aeri uchinaga x f!r genre. angst wc. 800+ notes. wooo second fic !!! didn't mean to make it so angst n stuff but oops 💔💔 a little suggestive. may add a part2 that's more fluff depending on the poll's results at the end of the fic. (MASTERLIST)
now playing ⋆ guess by charli xcx feat. billie eilish
YOU WERE SO, SO SCREWED. you didn't know how it happened, really; one moment, you were splayed over her lap, then the next, you were on her bed.
the fine line between just friends and more than friends start to blur as you and giselle begin to "unethically" sneak around when the sky became a dark, midnight hue—marking the time to meet up with the girl. these casual yet intimate rendezvous between the two of you only sparked your desire—your need—to see giselle.
everything starts to blur into one big mix of everything yet also nothing all at once, from the way giselle's hand meets your front door, knocking on it ever-so-gently, to the way her hands snake around your waist, as she grumbles some bullshit about her long, boring day of work.
her teeth crash against yours with a fervor that has you melting and your knees trembling. giselle breathes out, "missed you—missed this s'bad," as a low, throaty chuckle escapes her breath, her manicured nails trailing against your arms. at this point, your head almost reels at giselle's words, the two of you like fucking magnets.
sprawled up on the bed, you mumble, "yeah, yeah, me too. just- i'm a little busy y'know, from school and shit." you lie, your breath hitching. your hands meet the front of giselle's chest, distancing her away from you.
it doesn't help that giselle's hand curls around your wrist, pulling you closer, as a pout plays on her face and that familiar, smug lilt of hers repeats in your head, "please, let me stay the night?" to which, you meekly nod, too entranced by the japanese girl, "what's got you so busy anyway? a new boy, girl, whatever?"
"i've just been so swamped with assignments," you quickly blurt out, a little too quickly, when giselle inches herself closer to you, settling herself onto your lap. you could practically feel your heart pump out of your chest, as you run a hand through your hair.
nodding, giselle sighs, "so swamped that you haven't found the time to see me?" she teases, prodding at your cheek. this was the first time you guys had been alone for weeks, and god was it exhilarating. her slender fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants, as she remarks, "already know what you've got going on down there."
"shut up, gi," a giggle escapes your throat, as though you were a middle school girl crushing. your hands find themselves in giselle's tresses, entangling them. giselle presses a heated kiss against your jawline, almost eagerly, as you let her. before you knew it, her lips were against yours, her tongue easily slipping in.
"y'know, i'm starting to think that you just don't wanna see me, and that just, wounds me," giselle dramatically laments, her tone laced with venom and mockery. the japanese girl snorts at your dumbfounded expression before quickly giggling, "i'm just jokin' around, relax, pretty girl."
god, that nickname makes your heart ache, with how much you wish you could just simply deny her, and tell the girl that you couldn't do this anymore.
you meekly shake your head, "i know, i know, aeri." shrugging, you run a hand through her tresses, scratching her scalp.
"you're so uptight now, y'know that? it's like you're purposely avoiding me," giselle sighs, to which, you frantically shake your head.
"i'm not, gi. like i said, i'm swamped," you shrug, trying to play everything off, as you lean back against the bed's headboard.
"sure doesn't seem like it," the japanese girl huffs, folding her arms against her chest, before she continues, "i mean, you always walk away whenever you see me anywhere, avoiding me like the fuckin' plague.
you almost scoff at giselle's mention of that incident, snapping, "so what? i'm not obligated to wave at you in public. we're just casual like you agreed to—whatever that means."
"that- that's what's got your panties in a bunch? god, i knew you'd be like this, y/n—all sentimental and shit. we agreed to be casual, collectively, not just me," giselle retorts, rolling her eyes, "this is bullshit."
the japanese girl huffs, as she rolls herself off the bed, rubbing her temples. she sighs, "if you thought we were more than that, that's on you, y/n." sure, giselle felt pity for you—just a little bit—but it wasn't like you didn't know what you were getting yourself into; you knew it was solely casual, and that was addressed at the start.
but god forbid you fall in love with a girl like giselle—one hell of a girl, even.
the following week without giselle was hell; all you could do was let yourself be swallowed by your emotions, your back plastered against your bedsheets all day—the same bedsheets that giselle always laid on. how could you be so codependent on giselle? you always knew you were just so codependent on her, yet you never knew why.
it's the lacy black pair with the little bows,
the ones i picked out for you in tokyo.
taglist. ୨ৎ @yoohtonyy @yeetaberry127 @ourlovesarang @multiliker
@eunzkkrua @le3-r1n @imfearlessblog
#fics .#kpop imagines#kpop x reader#aespa x reader#aespa imagines#aespa giselle#aespa giselle x reader#giselle uchinaga#aeri uchinaga#giselle x reader#aeri uchinaga x reader
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regret
leah williamson x reader
actually finished writing something! wooo! the poll i put out was a close one, but this pair ultimately won. thanks to all who voted.
i’ve decided to split this into two parts, so this isn’t the end peoples!
part 2
———
“Alright. Remember, when we get there—”
“—pretend that we’re still happily married. I know.” You say annoyed, getting out of the car.
“Hey, don’t be like that!” Leah gets out of the car, catching up to you.
“Be like what? I’m not the one who got us in this situation.”
“Can we just be civil? This is the last time we’ll go through this.”
“Piss off will you! We wouldn’t have to act civil if you kept your mouth to yourself. And you had the audacity to file for divorce.”
Before Leah could reply, the front door opens to reveal Amanda, Leah’s Mom.
“Oh, I’ve missed you girls so much!”
Putting up a smile on your face, you engulfed the woman in a hug.
“Missed you too Amanda.”
“Come in! Come in!”
“Oi! David how’ve you been pops?”
“Oh, I’ve been wonderful! Glad to have you here!” He pulls you into a hug.
“There’s my favorite sister!” You hear behind you, Jacob just coming down the stairs from his room.
“Come here you! It’s been a while, huh?”
“It has! You gotta visit me more often.” You tense a bit, but not enough for him to notice in your embrace, putting up a smile on your face.
“I’ll try to visit more.”
What you don’t see behind you is Leah watching your interactions with her family.
You’ve known each other young. You’ve both been dating since you were fifteen, marrying at nineteen, divorced at twenty-one.
Her family’s have welcomed you with open arms since the beginning. You were her first serious relationship. The only one of her girlfriends that her family loved. You’ve had your whole life basically planned out, Leah would become a footballer, you a doctor, marriage, kids, the dream basically.
Leah didn’t know the exact reason why she did what she did, but it happened and she couldn’t take it back. She knew this teammate of hers has liked her for a while and never told her off.
She woke up to an unfamiliar bed, an arm around her that certainly wasn’t you. She regretted it the moment she woke up, didn’t know how to tell you, but you found out before she could. Ashamed of herself, Leah filed for divorce.
———
Leah didn’t know what she was thinking divorcing you. She didn’t have the right to be the one to file as she was the one who fucked up. It was impulsive and shameful. It was the best option she could think of at the time.
Now here she was, five years later, at the Emirates training grounds, about to run for the first time since her ACL injury. She missed you so much during this time. Every time she was injured in any way, you were always by her side nursing her back to health. You were her support system, making her fall more in love with you. This time, without you by her side, she realized how much she took you for granted, how she didn’t show you enough love, betraying you in the worst way possible.
She’d already signed the divorce papers, pressuring you to do the same all while making you go to her family’s for a dinner pretending that nothing has changed between the two of you. It was when she finally saw your signature on the papers was when she realized how she’s lost you for good.
———
Getting back home after a family walk, Amanda spots a stack of papers on the kitchen counter, a folded paper on top, along with two rings. Curious, she opens it up and quickly skims through them, shock fills her body after she finished reading.
“Leah!” She yells for her daughter.
“Yeah, mum?” Leah walks into the kitchen to see her mom holding something up.
“What the hell is this?”
Leah being clueless, grabs the sheet, reading it herself.
Leah,
I’ve finally signed everything you’ve been wanting me to sign. I don’t know why I’ve put it off for so long even if I’m not the one at fault. Guess it’s just hard to let go of the one you love the most.
Don’t contact me. Don’t look for me. You’re free.
Yn
Leah couldn’t even respond to her mother. All the emotions she bottled up came at her all at once, breaking down in front of her family. Six years of relationship, one year of marriage over.
#woso x reader#greynatomy#woso#woso imagines#woso imagine#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagines#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson angst
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Mirage x GN!Reader drabble
(NOT MY ART)
Your 'friends' with Noah and you meet Mirage and he thinks your absolutely adorable. Pure fluff.
You had just gotten off of work and were headed over to the shop to see Noah's car. You let yourself in through the front. As you made your way through the building you heard someone else's voice besides Noah's.
You stopped outside the door to the garage listening to the conversation trying to figure out who it might be. "Well when do I meet her?" "I don't know man, I don't even know how to bring 'this' up" Noah said gesturing to Mirage.
"Just let me meet her, is she's important to you than she's important to me." You giggled at his enthusiasm, whoever he was. You opened the door calling out Noah's name and instantly stopped in your tracks when you saw what appeared to be a giant robot.
"Y/N! I-I can explain-" Noah stuttered trying to figure out what to say. Mirage oblivious to your entrance turned around and jumped toward you picking you up in an instant.
"She is the cutest thing I have ever seen! Ain't no way this is your partner." "We're not! We're not-"
"Noah!"
"Oh my god right, Y/N, don't worry your in good hands. Y/N, this is Mirage. Mirage, this is Y/N."
"Hello beautiful, I'm Noah's best friend." Mirage said with a smug smile. "You are the cutest thing I have ever seen. You're so... well, cute! Very small." Mirage said patting your head gently.
"You're not to bad yourself Mirage." You said with a smile. "Noah I'm keepin them." "No!-I mean, uh" "Well if you're not gonna take them out then I happily will."
Noah let out a defeated sigh. "Just put them down." "Ain't no way, look at em, they might brake with the slightest movement. They stay with me."
"Ugh, Y/N you got this?" "Yeah Noah I got this. I'm all your's Mirage." "Wooo! Your mine now sweet spark."
#mirage#transformers rise of the beasts#mirage transformers#transformers x reader#transformers#fluff#mirage x reader
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Love in Motion
Chapter Three
Synopsis: You are a normal college student until you get a wrong number text.
Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.
Previous chapter: Chapter Two
Masterlist
I AM REWRITING THIS FROM AN OC STORY. IF I MISS ANYTHING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT! THIS IS CHAPTER 3 OF 5 OF ALREADY WRITTEN CHAPTERS.
April 9, 2022 12 AM
You yawn as you sit down in front of the tv to watch qualifying. You’ve got Luke and you’re’s chat open to send him messages about qualifying as it happens. Nothing happens for the first 16 minutes until I see Latifi’s car go spinning around.
You: OH MY GOD!!! What happened to Latifi?!
You watch as you see Lance Stroll’s car come up on screen.
You: He got tangled up with Lance Stroll??
You watch the replay and see Stroll turn into Latifi. You hear his radio, blaming Latifi for the accident.
You: Lance Stroll. How could he even think it was Latifi’s fault at all?? Outrageous.
For the next 15 minutes, I stew in my anger at Stroll for blaming Latifi.
You: There’s just no way he can blame Latifi for this. He clearly saw him in his mirrors!
You: And now Alex has a problem with his car! Williams is just not having a good day, damn.
Q2 goes by without any crashes, and by the time Q3 rolls around, you are fighting to keep your eyes open. They flutter close for a second before you hear the commentators yell. Your eyes fly open to see Fernando Alonso go into the barrier. “Oh my god!” You gasp, covering my mouth.
You: Fernando crashed too! He lost the hydraulics!
You: This is so sad.
After 12 minutes, Q3 gets going again. You yawn as qualifying comes to close. You grin as you see Lando finish P4.
You: Wooo! Lando starts P4! Let’s go Lando!
You shut off your tv once Max, Checo, and Charles start getting interviewed. You quickly crawl into bed and pass out.
******************************************************************************
Lando’s POV
My performance coach, Jon, hands me my phone. “It kept going off during qualifying,” he says, eyes knit in confusion.
“Thanks, Jon,” I say, unlocking it. I grin when I see eight messages from Y/n. Jon’s eyebrows raise at my grin. “A friend was messaging me,” I answer his unspoken question. I go to our chat and read all of Y/n’s messages. I smile when I read her excited text about me starting P4. I shoot her back a message, hoping she’s still awake.
Me: Yeah! The McLaren team is super happy for him.
I wait for a minute, but don’t get a response back. I internally pout, sad that Y/n didn’t respond. “Time to head to the media pen,” my press officer, Charlotte, says, appearing next to me.
“Alright, alright. I’m coming,” I grumble, following her. I follow Charlotte to the media and stand in front of the first media team.
******************************************************************************
April 9, 2022 11 pm
Your POV
You curl up on the couch as the cars finish the formation lap. You have your chat to Luke open so you can message him. The first lap goes quietly until Carlos spins.
You: OH! Carlos spins! He’s stuck in the gravel! Oh my!
Your eyebrows knit as you see Lance come into the pit for a second time under the safety car. “Interesting strategy to try to go to the end on one set of hard tires,” you mumble. You yawn as the safety car comes back into the pits and the race picks up again. You gasp as you see Sebastian go through the gravel, letting out a happy sigh when he doesn’t get beached.
You: What happened to Sebastian?? Why did he need to stop?
You: And there’s debris?? What happened?
You: OH NO! He hit the wall!
You: I’m not a big fan of one of the announcers. He’s just hating on Aston Martin and everyone who keeps making a mistake.
The safety car comes out again and after some laps under it, racing gets back under way. You groan when a stewards message pops up on my screen. “These are never fun to read,” you say.
You: How does Mick, Yuki, and Pierre all have safety car infringement investigations? How do you infringe on the safety car?
You: Also, what happened to Max?? Why did he need to stop the car??
You: His car is on fire! Thank god they told him to stop the car.
You groan as another safety car period starts. “I just want to sleep,” you whine. The safety car only lasts two laps before racing starts again. “Oh thank goodness,” you sigh. Nothing else exciting happens during the rest of the race, leaving you to fight sleep. You wake up more when you hear that they’re on the last lap. You glance over at the order and grin when you see Lando finishing P5.
You: Lando got P5! Let’s gooooo! And Daniel got P6!
You: But now it is time for me to pass out, so good night, Luke!
You shut off the tv after the podium ceremony. You crawl into bed, falling asleep quickly.
******************************************************************************
Lando’s POV
I slump down on the chair in my drivers room. I grab my phone, hoping for messages from Y/n. I grin when I see a string of messages from her. I read through them before replying.
Me: Which announcer is it? And McLaren is very happy with the results. Have a good night, Y/n.
I’m still grinning when Daniel barges into the room. “Hey, we’re going out for drinks, you want to join?” He asks. He stops and squints at me. “Why are you grinning like a maniac?” He questions me.
“Just happy with our results,” I shrug. He hums, still squinting, like he doesn’t believe me.
“Well, we’re going out at 10 pm, if you want to join us,” Daniel says, before leaving the room. I decide to get ready to go back to the hotel to get ready for the night out.
******************************************************************************
2 am
I’m sitting at the club next to Carlos, sipping on a drink, when my phone vibrates on the table. Y/n’s name flashes on the screen and I grin. “Who’s Y/n?” Carlos asks, looking from my phone to me. “Why are you grinning so big? Do you have a secret girlfriend?!” He gasps.
“No, she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend I made earlier this week,” I explain.
“But you like her?” He digs for more information.
“Lando likes who?” Max asks, as he slides into the booth, Daniel following him. The three of them are staring intently at me, awaiting my answer.
“I don’t like her,” I deny.
“Your smile when she sent you a message says otherwise,” Carlos points to my smile.
“Oh! Is she the reason you were grinning like a maniac in your driver's room today?!” Daniel asks.
“What? No! Maybe. Yes, yes she was,” I admit. They raise their eyebrows. Max gestures for me to continue. “Okay, so I ‘met’ her earlier this week,” I start, putting met in air quotes, “I was given the wrong number at a club earlier this week and it happened to be her number that I was given.”
“You believe it’s actually a girl? Not someone lying to you?” Carlos questions.
“Yes, I believe her,” I’m quick to defend myself and Y/n.
“So, tell us about her!” Daniel exclaims, leaning forward.
“Well, she’s a college student in the United States, studying software engineering. She’d rather be a photographer though,” I start. “She’s a fan of mine, but this is her first season of being a fan. Her dream race is either Silverstone or COTA. She, uh, she doesn’t know she’s talking to me. She thinks she’s talking to some guy named Luke who’s an event manager for McLaren,” I admit.
All three pairs of eyebrows raise at the last statement. “Dude, she’s going to be pissed when she finds out she’s talking to you. Girls don’t like being lied to,” Max says.
“I know, I know. I just like talking to her, and I lied about who I was before I thought about it. But it’s going so well, so it’s too late to back out now,” I sigh. The three of them shake their heads at me. I gasp, realizing I’ve forgotten to respond to Y/n I grab my phone to respond.
Y/n: Good morning, Luke!
Y/n: The commentator I don’t like is Will Buxton I think? I just hated how he was hating on everyone.
Me: Good morning, Y/n. I can see why you’d dislike that.
I glance up to see Max, Carlos, and Daniel all staring intently at me. “What?” I ask, confused.
“You just seem happy texting her,” Carlos says.
“I am. She’s a fun person to talk to,” I agree. I look down as my phone vibrates again.
Y/n: Yeah. So how was your day?
Me: It was good! I’m out celebrating the good results from today.
Y/n: Oh fun! I’ll leave you be then!
Me: No! Don’t go! I’ve been out for four hours already, so I’m heading home soon anyways.
Y/n: Alright!
I yawn, trying to convince the guys I’m tired. “I’m going to head out, I’m tired. Have a good night,” I say. I get a chorus of good nights from them, before I leave. I hail a cab and head back to the hotel, while talking to Y/n.
Me: Did you sleep well?
Y/n: I did! I assume you’re heading to bed soon though?
Me: Yeah, I’m heading back to the hotel now, so in like 30 minutes I’ll be asleep.
Y/n: Okay, sounds good! Are the clubs fun?
Me: They can be, depending on who and where you go. I tend to go with my close friends, so they’re fun.
Y/n: Alright, that sounds fun.
Me: Yeah.
Me: So, what’s your plan for today?
Y/n: Well, do some homework, look for some jobs, play some video games.
Me: That sounds like fun! Well, the video games part does.
Y/n: It should be!
I let myself into the hotel room, yawning as I get ready for bed.
Me: I’ve made it back to the hotel and I’m exhausted so I’m going to head to bed. Have a good day, Y/n.
Y/n: Okay! Have a good night, Luke.
I set my phone down on the nightstand and climb into bed, falling asleep quickly.
Next chapter: Chapter Four
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gents in dilemma.
a park sunghoon drabble !
pairing : rich!boy!sunghoon x gn!reader, teasing classmates to ???
genre : fluff/humour (?)
warnings : nothing just sunghoon using his privileges as a pretty rich boy lmao also no actual knowledge os spider-man comics im sorry if it's inaccurate <3 !
author's note : wooo! a double update ?!? who is thisss mayhaps very random but i told ya'll ( if u read my recent mingu drabble ) it's been a while since i realeased anything enha :( this was sort of a warm up to get back into writing for them! if you have any ideas pls send them in!! i rlly want to write for them again hehe <3
sp dt to my enha moots ! @blue-jisungs ; @lheebra ; @haknom ; @odxrilove ; @hsgwrld ; @quaissants ; @enluv ; @hannie-dul-set ; @tqmies ; @byuqi ; @urszn ; @flwoie ; @tranquilpetrichor ; @hqrana ; @shuamorollss ; @strxwberry-skiess !! just to let you know i love u guys and think of you when i open this app 💌 !! i am ia a lot but i truly am grateful for you and your works 🩷!
word count : 1.2k
You were stuck there anyways. Your brother wouldn’t come pick you up earlier enough and all your friends left already so you found no point in wanting to leave and sit outside in the hot and humid weather where you’ll probably just end up with mosquito bites and sweaty skin.
The song played in your earphones as you lazily flipped through the Spider-man comic. It was your newest hyperfixation and you had difficulties getting copies but you were getting there.
Suddenly an intrusion popped in front of you as you got to the good part, but you paid no mind to whoever it was.
Besides, who in their right mind would want to make small talk with a stranger in the damned detention room?
The music was dull but you could hear the sound of someone clearing their throat. Sighing, you put down the comic and looked unamused at the boy in front of you.
Park Sunghoon. Rich, smart, pretty boy who lived up to all the stereotypes that clung to his personality while also hanging out with the same sort of people. Not a stranger you thought.
You wondered how you missed seeing him and…Park Jonseong? (If you remembered correctly) walk in. Perhaps you indeed were too focused in your daydreams.
Now amusement flickered in your gaze as you looked up at him.
He definitely did live to his pretty boy name you mused as you took in the moles on his face, the shade of his pink lips, the messy yet perfectly sitting hair of his.
He gulped under your calculating gaze, not knowing why he felt nervous all of a sudden when it was his idea to tell you not to say anything to Mr.Kim for when Jay and him would ditch the detention they got that day. He confidently told his friend he would threaten you if you didn’t comply, perhaps maybe bribe you a bit and surely it would do the trick.
But how his words seemed to bite right back at him because suddenly his mouth felt drier and tongue heavier under your gaze. For a brief moment, he wondered how he had never seen you, otherwise, he knew he wouldn’t be able to forget a face like yours.
“Now now,what ever have I done to have the Park Sunghoon right in front of me?” You grinned teasingly at him and fuck you had dimples. He swore he might have died in that moment and reached heaven.
He felt a shove that snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Uh-yeah um we- wait you know me?” You raised a brow at his words, the amusement only growing as you saw the tip of his ears getting red.
Was he flustered…by you?
“ ‘course I do, it would seem weird if I didn’t at least to you people.” You murmured the last part, darting your eyes to his friend who seemed to roll his eyes.You weren’t sure if it was because of you or because of Sunghoon.
“Can you get to the point idiot-”
“Hey! Shut up, yeah? I’m talking-”
“All I see is you acting like a huge fucking si-”
They whispered to each other, almost making you giggle at the way they both seemed to be arguing over something, you figured you were somehow involved.
“Well see- the thing is we’re going to ditch this.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head a little as you leaned forward in your chair, placing your head on one hand.
“And? Does that concern me?”
“We don’t want you snitching, that’s what he meant. You can ditch too, Mr.Kim’s known for never coming back to his detentions once he leaves.”
You shook your head, “I’m fine here, I have to wait anyways, you can-”
Suddenly a thought occurred to you, “Hmm, the snitching on you both part sounds tempting, I might even get brownie points, struggling with his class anyways.”
No,he was not supposed to find your smirk cute, nor the mischievous glint in your eyes.
“What’s in it for me?”
“Wha- what’s in it for you?! You can ditch too! Didn’t I say that already-”
“Wait. I might have something.”
Jay stared at Sunghoon in both disbelief and annoyance while you looked at him curiously. He set his bag down and opened it, pulling out something.
“Here.”
You couldn’t believe your eyes. The newest edition of the Spider-man series. You’d been trying for ages to get it, but held yourself back when you saw the triple digit price point.
Of course he’d have this.
You gasped in disbelief, looking in awe as you grabbed it and flipped through the pages. Sunghoon found it absolutely cute the way your eyes lit up.
He was concerned about how enduring he already found you in the span of approximately 10 minutes.
“It’s too expensive, I can’t-”
“Who said I am giving it to you? I’m letting you borrow it so you won’t rat us out.”
It seemed the tables turned and it was your turn to be flustered under his teasing gaze and he did in fact have a cute grin. Shit-eating one but adorable.
“I’ll take it to my grave.” You hugged the comic to your chest and did a zipping your mouth motion, throwing away the pretend key. He let out a chuckle at your actions and the sound absolutely did not do something to your heart ( You think it might have burst ).
Jay had been observing the interaction and he knew why exactly Sunghoon did what he was doing. Seems like the supposed ‘ice’ prince was melting at your mere presence. Oh he was so going to spill everything to the rest of his friends and tease him for the life of it.
Sunghoon’s gaze moved towards your phone, seeing it was still unlocked he took it while you yelped in alarm, “Hey! I said I won’t say anything!”
You had stood up from your chair and now only realised just how much taller he was than you when he began to type something with his hands raised above you.
“Here. My number and I rang it to have yours. Call me when you’re done reading, I expect to get my comic back soon enough.” He held your hand and plopped your phone in it, while you remained frozen at his bold moves. Even the blonde next to him was surprised at his actions, that probably said a lot to you.
He swung his arm around Jay who had an amused grin as he shook his head, waving bye to you, pausing for a moment when he realized something as he looked back at you.
“What’s your name?”
“Uh-oh um,” You were still in a trance at what just happened as you said your name, not as confidently as you wished and you cursed yourself mentally for already being so hung up on his actions.
He repeated it as if testing it out, “See you soon then,” He grinned at you as you just chose to wave back, thinking you might just say something stupid.
Looking down at your phone, you saw his number and back at the comic book that laid on the desk, you grinned bashfully, shaking your head as you laughed.
Maybe just maybe, Park Sunghoon wouldn't have to wait until you finished the comic for you to see him.
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024
feedback is always appreciated 💌
links : main navi ! | enhypen masterlist !
#[ pri works ]#park sunghoon#sunghoon x reader#k films#enhypen#enhypen fics#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#sunghoon#sunghoon fic#sunghoon drabble#sunghoon oneshot#enhypen drabbles#sunghoon smau#enhypen fanfic#enhypen smau#x gn reader#x female reader#x male reader#sunghoon x y/n#sunghoon x you#enha x reader#enha fluff#enha#enha imagines#sunghoon imagines#enhypen sunghoon
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one of your girls (pt. 2) (jungkook x reader)
we go 'round again, we jump back in bed that's what you do when you love somebody these bad omens, i look right through them that's what you do when you love somebody bad omens by 5sos
pairing: jungkook x fem oc
tags: smut, angst, fluff, fuckboy!jk, fwb rel, oc is...she thinks with her heart <//3, college au, jungkook is sus and a bit mean but is oc any better ? hmmmm
warnings: kissing, fingering, protected sex, mirror kink, backshots wooo but make it romantic, light choking, multiple orgasms, a little bit of aftercare, cuddling :o
word count: 6k
a/n: weeeee part 2 is finally here !! sorry this took so long yall. i have two more parts to release for this series (flashback then part 3). anw happy reading !! uhhhhhh the ending..dont scream at me :D / part 1 / drabble i (flashback)
taglist: @yuwaimo @haileycannotcometothephonern @hoseokteardrop @hoodrejects @agrika @joonwater @moonchild1
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
It's sunny today which calls for hanging out at the quad. It's what you and your friends usually do to take advantage of the rare warm days. Jihyo's busy bickering with Mingyu, you don't know what they're really talking about because you're busy re-writing your notes. You haven't seen Jimin yet but he texted the group chat saying he's just buying food. And Jungkook...well you don't know if he's going to show up today. You haven't talked to him since that night. It's just been three days anyway.
You feel someone sit down beside you and you notice it's Jimin. He's wearing those skinny jeans he loves so much because he says it makes his ass look nice. You roll your eyes every time he mentions that.
"Cool guy alert," Mingyu suddenly calls out. You whip your head up to stare at Jimin who's wearing the biggest pair of sunglasses you've ever seen, it's covering half of his face already.
"Too sunny for you, Jiminie?" Jihyo teases this time.
You all watch Jimin silently as he removes the sunglasses. His left eye is bruised and it's ugly and purple and almost black.
"What the fuck," Jihyo says to break the silence. "What happened to you?"
Jimin doesn't say anything yet, just simply fixes his hair and shakes his head. You can tell he's trying not to get angry because his jaw is clenched.
"Jimin?" you whisper.
"It was Jungkook," he says gruffly. Your heart stops again at the mention of his name. Why would Jimin and Jungkook fight? Their friendship is pretty solid and they always get along well. You've never seen them annoyed at each other.
Your eyes flit to Mingyu and you think he knows what happened because he's silent, no hint of surprise on his face. He's looking down at the table while playing with his food.
"You guys never fight," Jihyo interjects. "What happened?"
Jimin turns to face you and you suddenly think you know why. You don't want to say it yourself but you think you've got an inkling why Jungkook punched him. You just hope you're wrong.
"You need to talk to him," Jimin tells you, completely ignoring Jihyo's question. You nod silently and check your phone to see if Jungkook has texted you at all. Of course he hasn't. Typical. But you'll find him today. You don't know exactly what went down but Jimin telling you to find him confirms your suspicions. It's enough to get you mad, your body heating and tensing up in simmering anger. You don't mind what Jungkook does to you, how he hurts your feelings without intending to, how he treats you like you're some disposable object, like you're just there always on the sidelines waiting for him. What you can't tolerate is Jungkook bringing both your friends into your situationship. What goes on between you and Jungkook should stay between you both and that's it. You can't handle him hurting Jimin as well.
There are a few places where you think Jungkook might be. You walk to the cafeteria first and search for him in the crowd. He's not there so you head to the library instead and your heart drops the moment you see him talking to some girl.
"Hey," you practically shout, suprising the people in the library and yourself as well, even. You're usually never this angry. Never address someone in such a venomous way. But you can't help but feel irked at what Jungkook's done.
He looks back and his eyes widen at your angry form. It only lasts for a second before he smirks and walks closer to you.
"Yeah?" he says, all smug and cocky.
"We need to talk."
Then you turn around and start walking out of the library, could hear Jungkook walking behind you already. Girl he was talking to all forgotten.
Surprisingly, you end up at his place.
You walk into his living room, ignoring him when he tells you to take a seat on the couch.
"Did you punch Jimin?" you ask right away, wanting to get this stupid issue over with.
You watch as his jaw clenches, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He looks at you for a moment, eyes in slits at your hostility. "And what if I did?"
"What the fuck was that, Jungkook?" You look at him with stern eyes and could tell he's angry as well, chest rising up and down in quick breaths.
"Don't mess with my friends," he says.
"Jimin is my friend too!" you retort. "What happens between me and Jimin has nothing to do with you."
"Just—"
"Just what, Jungkook?" you cut him off. "You had no right to punch Jimin like that. Why'd you even do it in the first place?" You place your hands on your hips as you wait for him to answer you, puffing out a breath in frustration.
He looks a bit lost, eyes darting from side to side to look for an answer. The longer the silence goes, the shorter your patience gets.
"Well?" you prompt.
"Just don't, alright?" he says lamely. You roll your eyes. "You can sleep with anyone else except—"
"Who the fuck gave you the right to tell me who I can and can't sleep with?" You're almost screaming now but you don't care. This push and pull with Jungkook is making you so angry you want to punch him. You walk up to him and shove at his chest but he barely stumbles back. It just angers you even further. "I don't even give you shit when you sleep with other girls!" You continue pushing him back, practically punching his chest now. "It's not like you agreed to be exclusive. You said it yourself that you still wanted to fuck around. That was the agreement."
Jungkook grabs your wrists to stop you from pushing him. You watch him clench his jaw as he makes eye contact with you. "What if I want to take back what I said?"
"What?" you mumble dumbly, all the fight leaving your body.
He lets go of your wrists and takes a step back. You watch him pace back and forth in his room. "What if I want us to be exclusive?"
You say the first thing that comes to mind. "You're lying." He must be. He's just trying to lure you in, get him on your good side again.
He looks at you dead in the eyes and it seems like all the anger and frustration is leaving his body as well. He looks defeated and tired, and you're sure you look the same. "I'm not. I never lie to you."
"You do, Kook," you say quietly. But you're not saying it to make him feel bad. You're simply saying it because it's the truth and both of you know that.
He sits down beside you on his bed and buries his face in his hands. You watch him and try to keep your tears at bay.
"Kook, if this is some sick joke—"
"It's not," he says all of a sudden. "What if I want us to be exclusive?" he tries again.
You don't like it when he looks at you like that. Like you matter to him. Like he actually cares. Like he feels the same way as you. Looking into his eyes is too much so you turn your head away and stare at the wall instead.
"Why?" you whisper.
"Because..." he tries. "Because—"
"Because what, Kook? Suddenly you don't like the idea of me sleeping with other guys? But you can sleep with other girls? And if I say yes to you, what'll happen then?" you say harshly. "Huh? You're gonna forget about me? Just use me whenever you want?"
"It's not like that, sweetheart." He tries grabbing your hand but you shake him off. You stand up and walk to the other side of the room, suddenly wanting to be away from him. Being near Jungkook clouds your senses and makes you act irrationally.
"Don't call me that." You feel your lips trembling and you're pretty sure tears are streaming down your face. "I don't know what you want from me, Jungkook. You can't even explain why you want us to be exclusive."
He mirrors your expression, big doe eyes suddenly teary as well. "I'm sorry," he chokes out. It stays silent after that. You nod to yourself. Maybe this is the best explanation you'll get. You gather your things and mumble a goodbye. You exit his bedroom and Jungkook doesn't chase after you. At this point you don't expect him to anymore. You bump into Mingyu and Jihyo upon exiting Jungkook's apartment. They call out to you but you ignore them and speed walk out of the building.
Your heart hurts. Like, it physically hurts. You know you should feel happy with what Jungkook's just told you. It's what you wanted ever since you fell for him. But why are you pushing away? Why don't you want to believe him all of a sudden?
Because you used to. Believe him, that is. Used to look at him all starry eyed with whatever he said. Said yes to whatever he asked. Looked at him like he can achieve world peace. Something stupid of the sort. Wore your heart on your sleeve every time you were with him. Even when you weren't, now that you think about it.
You always showed your feelings through your actions. He just showed his feelings through his words.
It's different but it's the same. This time you don't believe him. Stopped believing his words some time ago. Always knew there was some lie beneath his words. Always doubted what he said. Or just brushed it over your shoulder. Never let it settle in the crevices of your heart, which is sadly just filled with him. Him, him, him.
Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.
You should feel sorry for yourself for how much he's changed you without even trying to directly. You never thought you'd have to change yourself for a man. But here he is, making you doubt him and the world. You were never like this before.
You thought love was easy. That if it was the right person, everything would fall into place naturally. You didn't know love would be like this. That you'd always be cautious, always had your walls up, looking over your shoulder. That you had to fight for love, or that it hurt so much you found difficulty in breathing.
But is Jungkook the right person?
It's not something you want to answer yourself, because you'll get hurt either way. You just brush the thought aside like you do with your feelings.
You don't go back to your apartment because you know Jihyo thinks it'll be the first place you go to. Will barge in your room because she has a spare key. Is confrontational and protective of you like that, she'll ask questions right away.
But you don't want to think of what just transpired. You want to forget. Move on. Not sure if that means moving on from Jungkook entirely (you doubt you ever will) but you just want to forget about today.
So you keep walking. No destination in mind, you just let your feet walk you to wherever. Away from campus. Walking through some random park. Eventually, you end up at a Korean BBQ. Don't realize the meaning this place holds till you're seated. It's Jungkook's favorite restaurant. He brought you here twice.
Now you're here alone. You start feeling pathetic. Who the fuck goes to a restaurant like this alone? You scan the area—you see couples, friends, families eating together. But you're alone which means you have to grill the meat alone. Serve yourself. Eat by yourself.
You order two bottles of soju. Might as well be drunk while looking pathetic.
You think you've made a good decision. The food is good and you're doing everything yourself so you have no time to think about other things. Or people. Person.
You flip the meat only to see that you've flipped it too early. It's not properly cooked yet. Jungkook always knew when to flip it at the right time.
You sigh. That was what, twenty minutes of him being out of your head? At least it's progress. Somewhat.
After a while you decide you can't inhale anymore food. You'll probably explode. But a happy tummy is a happy heart. Or whatever people say. You're drunk, can't think straight. You're drunk but not stupid, so you ask Jihyo if she can pick you up.
She simply replies otw and is outside the restaurant ten minutes later. She comes in full force—which is really just Mingyu and Jimin with her in the car. It's Mingyu's car, anyway, so you expected to see him. You don't know why Jimin's with them, but you don't mind. Seeing your group of friends eases the ache in your heart even more. Even though one person's missing.
You don't mind. Well, just a little.
You smile at them as you walk to the car while Jihyo runs out of it to give you a big hug. She doesn't say anything as she rubs your back soothingly and you don't cry on her shoulder like you normally would. You're too tired of crying. Being sad.
You don't say anything as the both of you get back in the car. They don't ask about what happened and for that you're grateful. You don't want to process it yet, anyway. Don't think there's much to process. You love Jungkook and he doesn't love you back. Simple.
Your friends fill in the quiet pretty well. Jimin goes off on some tangent. You don't really know the topic. But Jihyo's interjecting from time to time. Mingyu makes a joke and it has all of you laughing. Eventually you get to Jimin's place. It's the usual hangout spot. A one bedroom apartment with a nice balcony. Not too big but not too small either. Just right for the four of you.
Usually five.
You don't know what transpired after you left Jungkook's place. How Mingyu and Jihyo saw you running out with tears down your cheeks. You don't know and you don't ask. You all watch a movie together. All fall asleep in Jimin's living room. Will complain about your backs hurting the next morning but you don't care. It's nice to be around them.
You leave Jimin's place the morning after. You, Mingyu and Jihyo leave because Jimin shoos all of you out. Says he has an exam to study for. He'll probably complain about it during lunch. Tuesdays are reserved for lunch with each other. Out on the quad, if it's sunny enough. In the cafeteria otherwise. You're not sure if Jungkook will show up. You doubt he will.
Mingyu and Jihyo walk you home. You shower and get ready for class. You move as if you're on autopilot. Shower. Get dressed. Get the right textbooks. Lock your door. Walk to class.
You put yourself in this bubble, in this false sense of security that things are ok. You'll be okay. You've been through a lot and you're still here standing, breathing, living. This? This is nothing.
You just have to give yourself time. Have to push your feelings away. Out of sight, out of mind. Don't think it works like that when it's about your feelings. Whatever. Your heart will mend itself back to place.
But what makes a heart whole? It's people, mostly. It's your friends. Your family.
Jungkook.
Always gonna be Jungkook.
And you're back at square one.
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
jk (sent two weeks ago): can we talk?
jk (sent one week ago): hi
jk (sent one week ago): can we talk pls?
jk (sent five days ago): y/n?
jk (sent three days ago): im so sorry, y/n. i just want to talk. please.
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
It's been two weeks since the incident and your group hasn't been complete ever since. Either Mingyu and Jihyo are with Jungkook, or with you. Things are starting to change for the worse, and it's making you sad.
At least Jimin and Jungkook have made up already. You don't know the details exactly (because you didn't ask), but you've heard that they've started hanging out again.
You and Jungkook?
You haven't replied to any of his texts. You haven't seen him for two weeks. It's weird. It feels like there's something wrong, something off. Like there's a small pebble in your shoe. Like there's a nagging voice in your head telling you to go back home because you forgot to unplug your straightener.
Like you're missing a piece of you. This hole in your chest that leaves you feeling empty.
You miss Jungkook. And not just the sex. You also miss the friendship. The intimate moments.
You don't have the courage to ask about him, to text him back or look for him. Frankly, you're still hurt from what transpired and you think you might just break if he hurts you again.
It's even raining today. The cold and gloomy weather dampens your mood even more. You baked cookies to try to cheer you up. You used to love baking but haven't done so in a while, you're not really sure why. But you needed an extra pick me up today.
You're holding the tupperware of cookies close to your chest when you walk in the cafeteria, looking for your friends. You always bake extra for them—love the looks on their faces when Jihyo counts all the cookies first and divides it accordingly, when Mingyu gets more than what he should have, when they all fight over the last piece.
When Jungkook would ask if you had extra cookies back at your place.
You don't think that'll happen anymore.
You spot your friends by a table in the corner of the cafeteria, next to a large window where the rain hits it outside in a steady patter.
You see Mingyu who's taking to Jimin, Jihyo typing something on her laptop.
And there's the missing piece, beanie-clad head hung low, tattooed hand busy writing on his notebook.
You feel your heart lurch in your chest. You stop walking, not minding that you're blocking the way.
You take deep breaths to calm your nerves. You have to see each other at some point. And also, you don't want your friends to feel awkward anymore.
You continue walking again and because the universe wants to torture you even further, the only available seat left is right across Jungkook.
"Hi," you chirp, trying to sound as cheery as you can as you sit down. Mingyu, Jihyo and Jimin all look at you in surprise, then Jimin starts talking about his day to fill in the awkward silence. The three of them try to make things go back to normal. You would've laughed at the looks of your friends' faces (sans Jungkook, because you refuse to look at him) if you didn't feel so nervous.
You join in the conversation as well, not an ounce of sadness shown on your face. You don't want your situation with Jungkook to affect the rest of your friends.
The both of you never address each other directly, but you do feel him looking at you from time to time.
You place the cookies in the middle of the table. Like old times, Jihyo counts all the cookies and tells everyone they can only have three pieces each. Mingyu eats more than three. The three of them fight over the last piece, Jimin proposing that they battle it out through rock paper scissors.
You're laughing at the scene in front of you. Good thing you saved some for yourself back at your apartment.
Amidst the chaos, you feel Jungkook lean over the table to whisper in your ear.
"You got more cookies back at yours?"
Your body stiffens at the proximity. Usually you'd say yes. He'd follow you home, make some small talk while you place cookies in a ziplock for him, then he'd hug you goodbye.
That was before the agreement. It was essentially the same routine when you started sleeping with each other, though of course he'd stay a little bit longer.
You turn your head and look at him for the first time. You will yourself not to cry, to steel your emotions.
He looks so soft, so comfy like he just rolled out of bed. He's wearing a beanie to tame his curls, and he's wearing one of his oversized shirts paired with gray sweatpants.
He smells good too. And you realize that you really, really miss him.
"Yeah," you say just as quietly. You feel your heart lighten, but your head's screaming at you to reject him.
Jungkook doesn't say anything else and neither do you. You wait for your friends to finish eating and once everyone stands up, Jungkook walks to your side. Jihyo looks at you quizzically but you just shake your head, silently telling her not to voice out anything out loud. You say your goodbyes and start walking towards your apartment, Jungkook right beside you.
It's silent. And a little bit awkward. You're thinking of what to tell him, whether he wants to talk about what happened, or he just wants your damn cookies.
You close the door behind the both of you and you immediately walk to your small kitchen, grabbing the container of extra cookies and putting some in a ziplock, like you usually do. You feel from the corner of your eyes that Jungkook's watching you, and you feel like your heart is about to burst at what he might say.
"About that night..." he starts.
You sigh and drop the cookies on the counter, turning to him to look at him directly. For the first time in a while, Jungkook looks nervous. Fingers fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"You know I like you, right?" you suddenly say.
"Yeah," he answers right away without a beat of hesitation.
"Then I want to stop whatever it is we have between us."
You watch Jungkook's face for his reaction. How his eyes widen, how he clenches and unclenches his fists, how his chest rises up and down in quick beats.
"Why?" he simply asks.
You bite your lip in thought, thinking of the right words to say. "I can't let you treat me like shit anymore, Jungkook. It's not healthy for the both of us. I don't know how you feel or what you want but look," you sigh. "You punched Jimin because what? Because I slept with him?"
"What if I want us to try?"
Now it's your turn for your eyes to widen, for your heart to lurch in your chest, body seizing at the question. Acting the same way you did when he asked the first time.
"Try?"
Jungkook nods, lips pursed as he walks closer to you. "You and me. Let's try. No more fooling around with other people." He swears under his breath as he comes to stand in front of you, both arms caging you against the counter. He breathes out and rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed like he's tired.
You're tired as well. But you let him do what he wants. Like you always do.
"(Y/N)," he starts to say. "Look, I— The thought of you sleeping with someone else... It made me crazy," he laughs dryly.
You lean back and scrunch your eyebrows at him. "Jungkook, I'm not some object for you to be possessive over. You just can't—"
"I don't mean it like that," he says, looking at you directly now. Your knees would've buckled at the intensity of his gaze were it not for your body leaning on the kitchen counter. "I just mean..." He turns his head to look away. "I just mean I can't bear the thought of you being with someone else anymore. Doing the things we do."
You open your mouth in reply then close it again when you realize you don't know what to say. You've been waiting to hear this confession for so long, but now that you've heard it, you're suddenly not happy. You're unsure. Guarded. Hurt.
"Jungkook," you whisper unsurely.
He turns his head back to you, gaze right on your lips before he locks eyes with you again.
"We can try. Please," he whispers. It's weird seeing Jungkook this way, all vulnerable and desperate. Begging. Usually, you'd be in his position. Not the other way around. "I promise this time."
You feel your resolve slowly crumbling. All the walls you've built up from your last interaction with him come falling down. You should hate yourself, you really should. But you know where your heart lies. What it wants. That you'd take any inkling of love he'd give you. Even if he may not mean it. Even if it might not last forever.
"Okay," you say, and the moment you do, you see the most beautiful smile grace his face. It makes you smile as well, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head to say no. "But we start slowly, alright?"
He nods his head, smile still there, body slowly pressing against yours. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck and your arms automatically go around him.
"Kook," you sigh. "We should probably talk first—"
"In the morning, baby," he says in between the kisses he's placing on your shoulder. "I promise."
You play with his hair while Jungkook does what he wants. Kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, up to your jaw. It's playful at first, big smooches echoing in your apartment. Then it starts getting heated the moment you feel his tongue on your skin.
"J-Jungkook," you stutter.
He grips your waist and lifts you up so you're seated on the counter. "You drive me crazy, I hope you know that."
You smile at him and say nothing else as you grab his face towards yours, finally reconnecting your lips with his. It's soft and sensual, no sense of urgency like how you usually kiss. Like how Jungkook had somewhere to be after. Or that he wanted to get it over with.
He's taking his time now by the way his lips mold slowly against yours, like he wants to map out how you taste, how you feel, how your tongue feels like pressed against his.
You stay like that for a while, just kissing and basking in each other's presence. Jungkook holds your waist firmly like he doesn't want to let go. Frankly, you don't want him to either.
You start getting antsy so you grab the hem of his shirt and try to slip it over his head. He laughs at your impatience as you throw the shirt somewhere in your apartment, hands going to his back instantly. Scratching your nails lightly down his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Then your hands go down to his pants and you start toying with his jeans.
"Sweetheart," he leans back and chuckles. He holds your face gently. "There's no need to rush, okay? We've got all the time in the world."
You lean back as well, exhaling the breath you didn't know you were holding. "Okay," you agree. "Yeah, sorry."
"Let me take my time with you," he murmurs as he leans in again to kiss you.
Jungkook does his take time. Practically kisses every inch of your skin. Takes off your clothing one by one. Fingers you slowly that you're seeing stars. Cleans you up with his mouth that you're left breathless and dizzy. Disoriented. You're both (finally) naked by the time you're in bed.
"Look at yourself, baby," he whispers right into your ear.
His words go in your ear and out the other, head too clouded with the mind blowing orgasm he just gave you. You don't understand what he's telling you to do until he gently grabs your chin and turns it to where he wants you to look. Your eyes spot your full length mirror. You see yourself, bare and sitting on the bed with your legs folded beneath you, thighs open and pussy on display. Jungkook's right behind you in a similar position, body so big and wide that you notice the stark difference of your bodies.
You see your chest heaving up and down, tits moving in sync with your breaths. Your hands are resting on his thighs. Jungkook slithers his arm to wrap around your waist. Finally, you lock eyes with him through the mirror.
"See?" he says, though you don't really know what he wants you to see. "You look so pretty. S'why I can't get enough of you."
"Oh," you breathe out.
"Yeah, oh," Jungkook chuckles lightly. "Gonna fuck you now, okay?"
You nod your head in reply and Jungkook lifts you up a bit to enter you from behind. You gasp when he fills you up right away, a perfect fit like always. He starts thrusting slowly but deeply, and you feel his tip kiss your cervix each time. You would've toppled forward were it not for his protective hold around your waist.
"Feels good," you finally moan out.
"I know, baby," he pants from behind you. "You take me so well. Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other."
Your heart seizes at that, and all words get stuck in your throat when Jungkook picks up the pace of his thrusts, both hands going to your chest to cup your breasts.
Jungkook presses his chest to your back, practically molding himself around your body, you're starting to feel as one. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips on your sweaty skin.
"I might not last long," he grunts.
"Me too," you mewl. It stays silent for a while, just both your breaths filling the room. It's not like you need to say anything, to be vocal like you both usually are. It's different this time and you know Jungkook can feel it too. With the way his body is pressed to yours, to his tight hold on you like you might disappear into thin air if he lets go, how his mouth never seems to leave your skin, how your hand holds his. Like you're too overwhelmed with the events that happened today, the past few weeks—since this started. That it's all coming to an end, but an end with a new beautiful beginning. It feels overwhelming because you're entering new territory. You still have your doubts (you don't think those will ever leave), but at least now you're on the same page with Jungkook. Together. Jumping into the unknown. Even if you're not sure how this will turn out—being together with him, for real this time. If it'll end in greater heartbreak or will be your best decision yet. But you're here because you want to try. You've let him in because you want to try. Because your heart has been with his from the start, you realize.
You're brought back to reality when Jungkook brings his hand up to wrap around your throat—not tightly, a hold barely there but firm enough to know he has you in his hold. You stare at yourself again in the mirror, at Jungkook moving his hips from behind you. How you're so pressed into each other.
"Jungkook," you choke out, suddenly so overwhelmed and full of emotion. His gaze shifts from your body to your face, looking at you through the mirror so intently you feel like melting. You move your hips back to meet his thrusts, your body feeling like it's on fire and that you might snap soon. "Kook, I—"
"I know, baby," he murmured. "I know." Knows that you're close, that this moment feels different, electrifying. "I got you, okay?" he whispers so sweetly. You lean your head back against his shoulder. "Let go for me. Hm?"
"Okay," you whisper, eyes closing and focusing on doing just that. It doesn't take you much longer to reach your peak, to let go and let the pleasure take control of your body. It comes to you gradually, getting stronger and stronger, and Jungkook talks you through it all. Though you can't make out his words since everything sounds so muffled. Like you're under water and the wave's crashed.
"Gonna come too," he grunts. "You're so beautiful when you come, baby. I can't—"
Jungkook reaches his orgasm after and fills up the condom. Fucks you so slow and deep through his high it sets you off once more. Don't realize that his finger is rubbing your clit slowly. Like he wanted you to reach your high again.
"That's it," he whispers. "So good for me."
You almost fall face first on your bed, but Jungkook catches you with a hand around your waist. Moves you around the bed so that you're laying on your back with him right beside you. You curl into him instantly as his arm wraps around your shoulder. He brings his lips to the crown of your head and places a gentle kiss.
You close your eyes and listen to the beat of his heart slowing down, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest. "We need to clean up soon," you mumble after a while.
"I'll do it," he mumbles back. "Let me just— Let me catch my breath first."
You laugh lightly, your body slowly succumbing to sleep. You feel Jungkook stand up and for a second your heart seizes in your chest. You keep your eyes closed while you try to listen for any sounds of clothes being picked up, of him getting dressed.
All you hear is your bathroom door being open then closed, then you feel a damp washcloth between your legs, and only then does your heart start beating again. Jungkook's back beside you in bed a few moments later, and then you finally succumb to sleep.
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
An alarm wakes you up the next morning. You know it isn't yours since it's not the usual ringtone you use. You open your eyes slowly and smile sleepily at Jungkook's arm draped across your waist. You look back to see him sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly ajar. You reach your arm out to your beside table to look for the noisy phone, realizing it's Jungkook's when you bring it close to your face to turn off the alarm.
You notice he's gotten a few notifications since last night, are about to place it back on your table when a text stands out to you. Waking you up fully. Your tummy churning, your breath seizing.
You can't see the preview of the message, but the name is enough to leave you feeling dizzy.
It's from Iseul. You know her because she's one of Jungkook's regulars. And you know this because she texts him a lot, her name always popping up in his phone. Not that you secretly went through it before, but sometimes Jungkook likes showing his phone to you and your friends, either of a cool photo he took lately or some random meme.
You try to stop your thoughts from thinking of the worst, but you can't help it. You and Jungkook haven't talked much about your relationship, because there is a lot to talk about. You know it won't all be fixed in one sitting. So you don't know if they're still seeing each other. You don't know if he meant what he said last night.
You start feeling ill, your palms sweating and your head beginning to pound. You find yourself standing up, getting dressed and grabbing just your phone with you. Never mind the fact that you're leaving Jungkook yet you're in your place. That he might still be here when you're back, whenever that will be. For the first time since you started this thing with him, you leave without saying goodbye.
#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook one shot#fwb!jk#fwb!jungkook#fwb jungkook#mine#college jungkook#bts fic#bts fanfic#fic ooyg
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twin flames ~ yours is bright, mine is smoldering - ng. y.
a/n: apologies for the thirteen day wait between the two fics - within that time, I got obsessed with and then finished one route of Fire Emblem: Three Houses (golden deer house my beloved), got sick and had to call off one day of work, had a family member experience a medical emergency, and then had to prepare for another college semester and an internship as well. I'm... tired to say the least. gonna take a few days to mentally regroup and then I'll get to requests and anon asks, I swear. ❤️ also last pirate! aespa fic wooo!! loved writing these four fics so much 🥹
tw: mentions of alcohol, violence, and weapons, but reader doesn't partakes in anything, reader is bad at their job but it's kind of charming, reader's a jailor but one that's actually doing their job of reforming their prisoners
related fics: Oh Captain, My Captain, Second Chances, your home is the sea, my home is you
summary: ningning, the famed mercenary, is caught by winter's pirate crew after a botched attempt on winter's life. after she's caught, she's your prisoner - and you're nothing like she expects.
♡ Masterlist ♡
“Bombs away!”
The sound of revelry, fighting, and pirating comes from the upper deck as you sit, alone, in one of the lower deck cabins. You sigh, fidgeting with the key in your hands, as you admire the empty jail cell across from you.
Being the ship’s only jailor could be considered a lonely, miserable job, but you didn’t see it that way. It wasn’t like you weren’t a fan of your fellow crewmates, but combat was not your strong suit; therefore, your Captain, Winter, had found a suitable job for you.
“I need someone to watch any captives that we take.” She explained as she took you to the lower deck, where the holding cell was.
“And you want me to do this? What if I have to physically restrain them, or if they try to escape-”
“-they’ll be disarmed before they get to you, I’ll make sure of it.” Winter reassures you with a hand on your shoulder. “You belong here, just as much as the rest of my crew. I want to make sure that my crewmates are in suitable positions for their talents. If this doesn’t work out for you, then we’ll look at other options.”
You scoff at the memory, as if any of Winter’s other options were any better - scrubbing the decks and scrounging dinner from food scraps weren’t jobs that you were keen to take.
She was right, however, this position suited you, oddly enough. Most of the prisoners, if you could call them that, weren’t particularly violent. They were resigned to their fates, and you often found yourself trading stories with them once they realized you wouldn’t rip their tongue out for looking at you the wrong way.
Cruelty wasn’t your style, anyway. It might be the way of the pirates, or your Captain at times, but it didn’t have to consume you as it did to some of your other crewmates. Sure, Winter course-corrected when they went too far, but those occasions were few and far between.
Somehow, through meaningless chatter, you managed to convince a few prisoners to join your crew - with your Captain’s permission, of course.
“I knew you were made for this,” Winter offers you a proud smile, “and I knew my plan would work. It was never simply about holding them in a cell, after all.”
“I’m not just a jailer to you, am I?”
“Not in the slightest.”
Nothing would prepare you for the woman who would be carried through your door on this night, after the fighting above you had ceased.
~
“Let me… go!” Ningning weakly cries out as a pirate holds both of her arms behind her back.
She struggles against their iron grip, but they don’t even budge as another pirate ties her hands together with a spare piece of rope.
Think, Ningning, you’ve been in worse binds than this. How can I make it out of this in one piece?
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite rogue mercenary!” Winter says with a bit too much cheerfulness in her voice.
“Minjeong.” Ningning growls as she stares at a plank on the main deck.
I will not give her the satisfaction of seeing me beaten and bruised, within her clutches.
“No one calls me that, not anymore.” Winter shakes her head as she approaches Ningning from the captain’s quarters. “How much did your guild pay you for my head?”
Ningning stays quiet as Winter places her hand on the mercenary’s cheek.
“Don’t touch me!” She yells and thrashes around, but it’s no use.
That pirate must be inhuman, to resist someone of my strength and fighting prowess!
When she tires herself out, Winter roughly grabs Ningning’s chin and forces her to look her in the eyes.
“You’ll talk soon enough, believe me.” Winter smirks to herself. “Take her downstairs to see my friend.”
“You won’t get anything out of me!” Ningning yells as she’s carried away. “I’d rather die than give away my secrets!”
“Death is the easy way out, Yizhuo.” Winter chuckles as Ningning shivers at the mention of her name. “What? You’re not the only one who’s done a bit of digging.”
“I will have your head one day, I swear!” Ningning screams before she’s dragged down to the lower deck.
To meet my torturer, of course.
~
You find yourself nearly falling asleep as a loud knock on your door brings you back to the world of the conscious.
“What is it?” You mumble as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.
“We have a prisoner!”
“Fuck.” You grumble as you quickly open and clean the cell in front of you. “You may enter!”
You nervously stand by the door as two of your crewmates enter with a black-haired woman in their grip. Her hands are tied behind her back, but they’re still holding on to her for dear life.
She must be an assassin or a mercenary of some sort. The crafty type, by the look of her.
The woman looks you in the eyes for a moment, trying to read your emotions and intentions in one go.
Good luck with that.
“You…” She mumbles as the two pirates set her in the cell and close the door behind her.
“Yes, me, that’s who you’re stuck with.” You crack a small joke as you lock the cell door from the outside.
“I could kill you.”
“Let’s hope you don’t, huh?” You smile as the key slips into your pocket. “Oh, and don’t try to escape, this cell was built by our genius Captain.”
“Genius?” The mercenary looks astounded. “She’s a liar, a thief, a murderer-”
“-Everyone’s done those first two things once in their lives, and Winter, to my knowledge, has not murdered anyone that hasn’t tried to kill her first.” You feel the need to defend your Captain, as she would fiercely defend her crew without hesitation.
The mercenary pauses as an argument dies on her lips – she’d be a hypocrite to argue any further, as someone who has done quite a bit of lying, thieving, and murdering.
As the two of you talk, the two pirates quietly exit the room. You find yourself enjoying the comfortable silence as you look back to your dinner. It hadn’t struck your fancy, especially since the ebb and flow of the ocean waves made you a little nauseous, so you decide to extend an olive branch to the imprisoned woman in front of you.
“Here, take this. It’ll be a long night for the both of us.” You hand her the plate along with a wooden fork and knife (one that couldn’t be used as a lockpick, you and Winter had both tried and failed).
She lets out a dry laugh as she grabs the bars of her cell.
“Why would you do this? Why would you offer me food when I just tried to kill your captain?”
You stand, unwavering, with the same brilliant smile as always.
“Everyone deserves kindness.”
~
Everyone deserves kindness.
Ningning was scared of you. When she looked you in the eyes, she didn’t see the hatred, anger, or disdain that most people held for mercenaries like her; instead, she saw empathy and the smallest shred of curiosity in your eyes.
Curiosity about a killer? Seems ironic.
That curiosity is what gets you killed in her line of work. You stick to what you know, and you get the job done.
Well, curiosity wouldn’t hurt her when she was already in prison, so she decided to indulge her curiosities for one night.
One night to stay here and plan my escape.
What intrigued Ningning the most about you was your behavior as a jailer. You weren’t trying to physically torture her with knives or water, as she was used to, nor were you trying to push her to mental collapse with starvation or a lack of proper rest.
You, instead, were the least intimidating person she had ever met as you peacefully slept on your cot. She could’ve easily, if she had her knife and a hair pin, picked the lock, sliced your throat open, and then went on her merry way.
But you had the smallest bit of trust in her, enough to give her food when you had just met.
What is wrong with you?
She asks herself about you, as well as her own thoughts.
~
You chuckle as you spot the girl peacefully sleeping on the floor of the cell.
I’d offer her my bed if I was more sure that she wouldn’t kill me.
After a quick midnight nap, you had awoken to your hunger and the curious sight of a sleeping mercenary in front of you.
As to not disturb her, you carefully crawl out of your cot so as to not make a noise. Your feet gently brush against the ground before you fully commit and plant both of your feet down.
A small creak rings out in your cabin, but the mercenary shows no sign of waking up soon.
Good. She’ll need her rest if she’s not used to the sea life.
Someone knocks on your door once, pauses, then knocks three more times in succession.
A light smile appears on your face as you recognize the knocking pattern - a secret code for a friend who liked to visit you on occasion.
One knock, a pause, followed by three more knocks meant “Hello, may I come in?”
You respond with two quick knocks, a pause, then three more knocks: “Yes, you may, but I’m busy tonight.”
One knock.
“You sure?”
You knock back.
“I’m sure as shit.”
You open the door to see Giselle grinning back at you.
“You remembered the code.”
She looks pleased as you make room for her to enter.
“How could I forget? I helped you make it, after all.”
Giselle carefully observes the sleeping prisoner before softly chuckling.
“Hard to believe that this is the same girl that tried to kill Winter earlier.”
“I don’t think they are the same girl.” You quietly say as Giselle leans in to get a closer look at her.
“You think she’s putting on a mask?”
“It’s a hunch, really. You’d have to, in her kind of business.” You explain as Giselle nods along.
“Well, if anyone can get her to come around, it’s you.” Giselle presents you with a bundle of papers. “Here - it’s Winter’s research on the girl. Turns out that she’s been looking for Ningning for a long while. I just don’t see the merit in recruiting a girl who would happily remove your head from the rest of your body.”
“Winter’s mind works in mysterious ways.” You take the bundle of papers and set them on your cot.
A bit of night reading couldn’t hurt, I guess.
“I’ll drink to that.” Giselle shrugs before looking at the door. “I just finished polishing all of the weapons, and there’s a nice bottle of whiskey waiting for me in the my cabin-”
“-I’m alright, Giselle, but thank you.” You decline her invitation, but she doesn’t look surprised.
“A pirate who doesn’t drink, shoot a gun, or participate in any schemes. They should write a novel to dissect you because I certainly don’t understand you.”
You let out a hearty laugh before Giselle leaves you alone for the night.
“Be careful!” She says before closing the door.
“I will, I promise.”
~
“You’re strange.” Ningning comments as you stare out of the only window in the room. “What kind of pirate doesn’t carry a gun?”
“What kind of mercenary doesn’t know how to escape a jail cell without any help?” A teasing smile plays on your face as Ningning physically recoils.
Ouch.
“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that, I swear!” Your panic causes you to grab the bar cells in front of Ningning. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this… jailer thing.”
“I can tell.” Ningning dryly says. “Why does Winter trust you with this job? Did you pay her off?”
You have to repress a snort as you hide your smile with one of your hands, as the other continues to hold onto one of the bar cells.
“There’s no amount of money that could make her change her mind. It’d take divine intervention for that to happen.”
I remember Winter being like that when she was younger.
Ningning softly smiles.
“I remember her being like that in her youth.”
Your mouth hangs agape as you take in her words.
Did they not know? I thought it was in that bundle of papers that appeared two nights ago.
“I thought she told you-” Ningning gestures to the papers behind you, but you shake your head as you close your mouth.
“I didn’t want to read anything about you - I want to hear it directly from your lips.”
Something stirs with Ningning - compassion and camaraderie, perhaps?
You think differently than I do - interesting.
“I still think you’re strange - your behavior and your way of thinking.” Ningning repeats her earlier statement, desperate to get the conversation away from the secrets of her past.
“I suppose I’ll never change your mind, then?” You tilt your head at her.
The rare smile on Ningning’s face only grows bigger.
“Never.”
~
“Come on, up you go.”
It’s been a week since Ningning has been entrusted to your care - a long yet fruitful week of trying to pull any information from the girl in front of you.
You do have that handy bundle of research papers, but even hours of research can’t explain why Ningning chose to be a mercenary, why she chose to attack your captain last week, or why she’s so tight-lipped about any information pertaining to her at all.
Odder still, your Captain won’t tell you a word about her past with Ningning. Any account of their earlier interaction when Ningning was captured would tell you that they seemed to know each other, despite referring to each other as strangers.
What’s going on here? Why won’t either of them tell me the truth?
If there was one thing you could do, despite any limitation, it was getting answers to unsolvable questions. You would get one of them to crack, Ningning or Winter, so you could figure out what was going on between them, or rather, what had happened between them.
A bit of shock therapy is in order, then.
Ningning looks at you in shock as you pull yourself out of your thoughts.
“What do you mean, ‘up you go’?”
“We’re taking a trip around the ship, so you should prepare yourself.” You play with the keys in your hand for a moment. “Hope you have your sea legs.”
“You think I won’t kill you?” The surprise in her voice is evident as you unlock the door.
“It’s more of a hope, really.” You move out of the way as Ningning gets up from the floor and approaches you.
Her eyes meet yours as the distance between you closes. One of her hands lingers behind her back as she stands mere inches from your chest.
Have I made a mistake? Was I too trusting? Is this my bitter end?
“You’re lucky I like you.” She quietly confesses before pulling a wooden knife from behind her back and handing it to you.
“I…” You pause while looking down at the knife in your hand. “You didn’t?”
“Why would I?” She smiles softly. “You have somewhere to take me, right?”
~
“Winter’s going to fucking kill you.” Giselle emphasizes the potential murder that may happen, as if you weren’t aware of the potential risk of your plan.
“I need answers, and someone has to start talking.” You shrug before grabbing Ningning’s arm with your hand. “C’mon, it’s time that you, the captain, and I had a chat.”
Giselle chuckles as you climb the stairs to the upper deck.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you about Winter.”
“Don’t say you didn’t warn them about me?” Winter parrots as she stands at the top of the stairs.
“Nope, fuck this.” Giselle quickly gets out of dodge as you haul Ningning up the stairs.
You can’t read the expression on her face but you can tell that she’s hesitant about this.
She’s not used to her secrets being out in the open, out of her control. Can’t blame her though - secrecy is how she keeps her head as a mercenary.
“I can’t say I’m surprised at this.” Winter offers you a weak smile. “I thought you’d connect the dots and come to see me sooner.”
“I respected my captain’s privacy until I had concerns on behalf of my prisoner.” You look over to Ningning, who glares at Winter.
“I’ll talk to you,” She stares down Winter before looking at you, “both of you, in private. Not out here - there’s too many eyes and ears for my liking.”
“Alright, you have my word. I’ll lead the way.”
~
Winter’s quarters are a bit cozier than you remember - an improvement made by their partner and first mate. A small candle that smells of lavender sits in the middle of Winter’s desk, along with a few maps scattered around the table.
You let go of Ningning’s arm as you sit down on the left of your captain, but her hand quickly finds yours as she takes a seat on your left. You bite your lip before hiding your interconnected hands under the table - you don’t need your captain getting the wrong idea, after all.
She won’t sit next to Winter. The bad blood between them runs deep.
“So…” Winter trails off before grabbing a glass of brandy. “Where do we start?”
“I don’t want to talk to you. I want to tell the truth.” Ningning harshly replies as Winter offers you a glass of brandy.
You shake your head before passing it to Ningning, who happily sips from the cup with her free hand.
She’s cute when she’s not insulting me or my friends.
You allow the thought to quickly pass by your mind - now’s not the time for those types of thoughts.
“You never were one to talk about your feelings.” Winter shrugs before taking a sip from her glass. “Why don’t I go first?”
“Why, so you can try to justify why you left me with those people?”
Your eyes widen as you look between the two girls. Ningning, who looks oddly justified by this reveal, and Winter, who’s trying to gauge your reaction as you’re trying to find hers.
Why is she worried about what I think? Is this about her past?
“Yes, your dear Captain,” Ningning spits out, “was a mercenary. A damn good one, before she up and left me. She stole from them too, and guess who took the blame for that? A person near and dear to her heart that she once called a friend.”
“I-” Winter looks away in shame as you look up to the ceiling.
I feel like I’m intruding on something that should be said in confidence.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what they did to you after I left.” Winter quietly says as she stares into her glass of brandy. “That’s why I left, you know. I couldn’t take the cruelty of it all. Satisfied, Ningning?”
“I should be,” Ningning takes a deep breath, “but I’m not. I imagined this exact conversation happening over and over, and yet-”
“-it wasn’t how you hoped it would go?” You finish her thought as she nods.
“I thought that it’d happen with a knife to her throat,” Ningning continues, “but I never could’ve killed her. Not you, Minjeong. No matter how much I hate you, I can’t find it in my heart to kill you. I had so many opportunities to kill you when I snuck onto this ship, but the only moment I could truly do so was when you turned your back. To watch life leave your eyes… it would’ve been torture.”
“I knew you didn’t want to kill me, and I didn’t want to torture you for your-” Winter pauses in thoughtful contemplation, “our betrayals of each other.”
“So what now?” Ningning asks as she squeezes your hand for comfort.
“We start over, as friends, and this all stays between the three of us.” Winter looks at you. “Has your curiosity been satisfied?”
“Most definitely.” You give her a teasing smile as she nods.
“I figured, but let’s make this all official.” Winter stands and walks over to Ningning.
She offers the mercenary her hand - an olive branch.
“Come join my crew. Start anew. You won’t have to go back to those mercenaries, I promise. We’ll take care of you.”
“You promise?” Ningning lets go of your hand before her hand hovers over Winter’s hand.
“My word’s as good as my gold.” Winter smiles as the other girl shakes her hand.
“I’ll join your crew, but there’s only one thing I ask.”
“Anything, Ningning, name it.”
“They,” Ningning points an accusing finger at you, “have to learn how to fight with weapons.”
~
“Did you really have to sign me up for fighting lessons?” You whine as Ningning settles herself in her new quarters.
“Can’t have someone I care about getting hurt, can I?” She chuckles to herself as you fold your arms in protest.
“First off, I can fight with a knife just fine, and secondly, when did you start caring about me?” You ask half-heartedly, hoping that she won’t joke with you just this once.
“When you started caring for me first.” She shrugs before walking towards you.
“I can’t believe I got you to care about me after you threaten to kill me.” You tease as her eyes meet yours.
“Neither can I,” She says before leaning in to whisper in your ear, “but fate must’ve had something different in mind for both of us.”
With a quick kiss to your cheek, Ningning leaves her room while leaving you in shock.
She… kissed me?
“Wait, that’s not how you did your work as a mercenary, right?” You call down the hallway, which only causes her to loudly laugh. “Answer me, Ningning!”
Although she’s (hopefully) tugging at your heartstrings, you can’t help but want to know more about Ningning. She’s a treasure trove of secrets and stories, waiting to be uncovered.
Maybe, in time, you’ll get around to telling her some of your secrets as well.
#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop#kpop fanfic#kpop gg#kpop au#girl group imagines#girl group scenarios#girl group x reader#girl group#girl group reactions#girl group au#girl group fanfic#aespa au#aespa x you#aespa x reader#aespa imagines#aespa fanfic#aespa ningning#aespa ning yizhuo#ningning#ningning x reader#ningning imagines#ningning scenarios#ningning fanfic#x reader#fanfic#ningning au#ning yizhuo
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(hii Spot been awhile) Something I think that's interesting about the observation about how Slugcats are getting so much attention nowadays is that its almost a 180 from how things were in the pre-downpour days, iirc.
Though I am glad we're getting an AU like yours it's so interesting compared to the usual
Im eating with a fork
Yeah, the fandom was not particularly strong back then, but I think there was more Iterator content. My suspicion as to why slugcats are so much more popular now is because the general "cat appeal"*. Downpour brought in wider audience which mostly consists of people that go wild over cat videos on the internet.
Not my intention to throw shade on it, because after all what does my opinion matter to anyone, but I find the whole "cuteness cult" of the internet annoying and, when applied to Rain World, frustrating. There's a whole silent worldbuilding in basically every screen of the game and the only thing that people seem to take away post-DP is "cute sluggy go wooo :3 the Ancients were such cultist pricks Dx". Which like alright, but expand a little on the latter please? Try? There is So much fun to it when one moves past the "religion only BAD" mindset.
DP also I think didn't care much about the Ancients and the culture they left behind (and therefore the root of Iterators). "But there's Saint!" Saint is almost everything new that wasn't heard of before, can be taken as another fact of monstroid mad religion and, of course, it Has to be wrapped in a fluffy cat package. The undergrowth Echo also feels like a spit in the face to the lore/religion than an addition, to me. My *guess* would be the original intention was showing an individual who failed to ascend because of the Fifth Hindrance but it doesn't *feel* like it. If that was the intention, I think the author didn't understand why a desire to live/survive could ever, in any form, be bad
It's interesting as well in the sense that when there was only Survivor, maybe up to Hunter- the slugcats felt like a vehicle that brings the player to the story. The player saw the world through their eyes and got to experience the world's rules, abiding them- the original campaigns were still subject to the lore/religion of the world.
DP made the slugcats characters, the main focus, in some cases a rebelion against the lore/religion (forever beef against new route for Survivor and Monk). So people had an easier time latching onto them.
That is my theory at least. Fact is also when I first watched RW I almost didn't get into it as a creator because I felt like I had nowhere to hook to and work with. Characters are great anchor points for people to latch on to and then work with/through, so it's not like I blame the fandom for quite literally getting slug infested. It's natural and logical and I'm well aware of it as someone who's trying to be a writer. Still frustrating.
Either way, at least there's a vacuum for me to fill with something I'm actively actually passionate about. It's kind of a sweet bonus that people are somewhat interested, too.
#Spot says stuff#rw#as with slugcats so with real life cats for me#the internet made me want to get away from them because there's just So much of it. literal worshipping and it unnerves me at times#when something is constantly thrown one's way it is bound to get exhausting#i could go further into some psychological analysis of the internet culture + brain rot and what it means for personal growth in the-#-form of today's seeming lack of introspection and self-responsibility but eh. i don't care much to do so. do whatever idfc#found out too I don't like answering questions too much because my words here are not too well thought out unlike illustrated info posts
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HOW I THINK _ bonedo 'n their love languages ! (pt.2)
pairing; ot6!bonedo x fem!reader synopsis; how would your adorable boyfriend(s) express their love for you? word count; 614 author's note; pt.2 is here!! wooo what are yall's thoughts on a taesan fic involving love potions? i got the idea a while back but idk if the commitment is there lmfaoo
read pt.1 here !
-
KIM DONG HYUN - physical touch/gift giving & receiving !
ESFJs are.. interesting. when they're in love, every little thing their partners do, affect the way they judge their relationship. here, leehan would definitely be the one who's into physical affection a lot. for him, a day without your hugs and kisses, or cuddles right after waking up, is enough for him to jump into conclusions that maybe your day was bad, or that you had a nightmare. he'd do everything, in his favors to make your day better. leaving you in bed, with a forehead kiss, and going out of his way to bring you breakfast in bed is something i definitely think he'll do a lot! the type to be totally into pda because he desperately needs people to know that he has the most prettiest, cutest, sexiest, smartest and loving girlfriend on this entire planet!
think of gifts such as flowers, hand-made cards, CDs or cassettes, rings, things he made in art classes such as little pots, drawings, tickets to concerts or amusement parks, because he loves to spoil his babe a lot and would swim across oceans just to get you the things you like. and this would totally go both ways, too. you would exchange gifts whenever there's a special day you both would like to cherish together.
he'll probably get you hot water bags, chocolates, snacks and warm blankets when you're on your period and would check up on you frequently to make sure you're doing fine. he would give back rubs whenever you're having cramps, while you sleep helplessly on your bed.
"i made you this during pottery classes.. see the flowers here? they're real! i glazed them afterwards.", he'll say proudly, with his adorable eye smile.
you'd kiss him immediately right there and then, which he would return in a heartbeat.
KIM WOONHAK - quality time/physical affection !
another ENFP, who has an unhealthy obsession of being with and around you 24/7 because he just loves you a lot, he can't help it okay? for him, one second without you feels like eternity. you two spend every second together, being literally attached at the hip. the type to send you messages like, "i wish you lived next to me, so that whenever i wake up, i could just stick some notes in my window, wishing you good morning, hoping you'd see them.", knowing that you'd have to literally run out of your house to reach school on time if that happened. he's the one who yaps a lot in the relationship, while all you can do is either listen with full interest, or feed into his interests by asking him more. and if you do both, he'll probably be planning a future with you, far away from the main lands, because he wants you to himself.
the type to give you surprise hugs whenever you're fully focused on something, like reading a book, to see you flinch. he'll probably be into the concept of cheek touching, as a form of greeting you. be prepared for random kisses on your cheek, nose, forehead, lips, hands and knuckles through out the day, because poor baby just cannot get enough! think of teddy bear hugs, and him resting his chin on your shoulder.
he's totally the type to fall asleep in the bus/train ride home after school, leaning to your body or shoulder, while one of your earbuds is still playing faint music, to help him sleep.
"can you come over, baby? pretty please? i promise this is the last time i'm asking you this! i miss you.", even though it probably will continue to happen every single day.
-
that's it! i hope i did them justice as usual <3
thanks for checking in on my blog, love you, bye!
all creds to chweverni only on tumblr !
#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor x reader#boynextdoor#leehan fluff#leehan imagines#leehan boynextdoor#leehan x reader#woonhak imagines#woonhak x reader#boynextdoor woonhak#woonhak fluff#these two <3333
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Is the IceWing struck with guilt when she kills, is she up in the middle of the night? Or does she end my sister without a care or whisper and sleep knowing she has done them right?
When the false seer takes dragons to save his kingdom do you think that he’s going insane? Or did he learn to be colder when he got older and now he forgoes the pain?
When a queen comes through the night and makes dragons fight is she scared that she’s doing something wrong? Or does she keep us in check so we must respect her and now no one dares to piss her off?
Does a dragon use all he has to kill defenseless enemies because he is vile? Or does he throw away his remorse and save more lives with guile?
WOOO I FINALLY DID IT! No joke this took me about 3 weeks to complete! (Mainly because of procrastination). This idea isn’t mine, as @mythos321 came up with it, I just wanted to draw it because EPIC + WOF is cool. :] Anyways you might have to click on the photos for better quality :)
Reblogs are appreciated!
#If this flops I might just die#wings of fire#wof#sombra arts (me)#wof art#dragon#art#artists on tumblr#wings of fire art#digital art#icicle wof#morrowseer wof#Starflight wof#queen scarlet#scarlet wof#clay wings of fire#wof clay#icewing wof#wings of fire icewing#nightwings#nightwings wof#wof skywing#wings of fire skywing#Mudwing wof#my art#artwork#illustration#procreate#wof fanart#wings of fire fanart
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wednesday mornings
summary: you bring eddie breakfast without him asking
pairing: eddie x female!reader (newly established relationship)
word count: 1.7k
a/n: this happens in my st dr so i thought it'd be cute to write about it
masterlist
i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.
—
"wooo" you screamed as the crowd clapped, a smile growing on eddie's face as they had just finished the last song of their set
"thank you all, we're corroded coffin, goodnight!" eddie screamed into the mic as the rest of the band exited the stage, and you jumped out of your chair and followed the boys into the small green room that was directly behind the stage
"amazing show you guys!" you told them ecstatically, gareth sitting down on one of the faded leather couch, chugging water
"thank you thank you" jeff said, giving a slight bow causing gareth to laugh
you felt a pair of warm, calloused hands slide around your waist, and a kiss land on the side of your neck
"hi baby" eddie said, and you turned around to kiss him
you fixed his sweaty bangs that clung to his forehead, and gave him a smile "you smashed it babe, i am so so proud of you" you told him and he smiled, putting his head down
"coming from you, it means a lot y/n" eddie said, and he brought one of your hands up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand
you caught notice of his watch and remembered you had a curfew of 10:45 pm and you mentally groaned, not wanting to have to leave soon
"hey babe what time is it?" you asked and he checked his watch. "uhhh... 10:30" he said and you leaned your head back in annoyance
"ugh" you groaned and he laughed "c'mon babe i'll drive you home" eddie said with a laugh, letting go of your grasp and walking over to where his keys sat on the counter next to the partially rusted old mirror
"good job tonight boys!" you screamed towards them, eddie ushering you out of the room and into the small hallway toward the back door, leading to where eddie's van was parked
"seriously i'm telling you, one of these days some big record exec is going to come here and see you and you're going to get signed" you told him as he held the door open for you
"i hope so, i'm just glad someone believes in us" eddie said, helping you into the side of the van
eddie walked around to his side of the van, climbing in and starting to drive from the hideout to your house
"i hate that you have to leave so early babe" eddie sighed, lacing his fingers with yours as the radio played softly in the background
"i know" you said, looking down at your hands intertwined "but i need to stay in my dad's good side so i can keep coming to see your shows" you told him, fiddling with the ring on his right hand
“yeah and i need my good luck charm there with me” he said with a wink, as he turned into your neighborhood
“are you going straight home or are you going to stay out with the boys?” you questioned, grabbing your purse and putting the strap over your shoulder
“i think we’re going to hang out and stuff, but i’ll see you in the morning? are you driving yourself?” he asked you and you nodded
“yeah i am, try and sleep a little bit please, don’t party too much babe” you said, kissing his cheek
he moved his face to kiss you, and you kissed back, not wanting to let him go but you knew you needed to
“see you in the morning” he said and you kissed him one last time before hopping out of his van and shutting the door
looking through the rolled down window you blew him a kiss, which he pretended to catch and put to his heart
you smiled one last time before turning around and walking to your front door, and letting yourself inside
you looked back to see eddie watching intently to make sure you got in okay and you waved at him as he waved back, driving off into the distance
you shut the door behind you and said hello to your parents who were finishing up watching a movie
they said a hello back, asked if you had fun and you if course said yes, and you ran up to your room, ready to go to sleep
after a nice soothing shower, you cuddled into your bedsheets, ready to go to sleep
—
your alarmed blared, waking you up from your lovely slumber and you groaned, knowing you had to get up
you hated wednesday mornings since it was the middle of the week and it meant you had to keep waiting till the weekend to sleep in
shoving the blankets off you, you finally got up to get ready for the day
after applying the little bit of makeup you usually wore, fixed your hair in your normal way, and slipped on a t shirt and jeans, you felt ready for the day
you walked to your kitchen, starting to make your breakfast, opting for a bagel and cream cheese
you thought to yourself about eddie and how much fun last night was, and how excited you were to see him again and how he’d stop by your locker to see you first thing
then you realized eddie would probably be late since he was out late the night before. it was a usual habit of his to come in late on wednesday mornings due to him staying up late, sleeping through his alarms, then skipping breakfast to speed to school in order to try and make it to first period
i doubt he’s gonna eat this morning since he’s probably going to use all his time to keep sleeping you thought to yourself
you grabbed another bagel, toasting it, and cracking open and egg over the heated stove, choosing to make him an egg, ham, and cheese on a bagel
thank god he wasn’t a picky eater, more like a human garbage bin who would and can eat anything- except mushrooms which he disliked immensely
you quickly finished his bagel sandwich, wrapping it in tin foil and grabbed your backpack, starting to head out the door
“have a good day sweetie!” you heard your mom yell and you yelled a quick goodbye back before heading into your car
your drive to school was quick, only living a couple miles away, and before you knew it, you pulled into your normal parking spot
you looked around but couldn’t seem to find eddie’s van. you knew it, it was typical of him but you just hoped that he wouldn’t hurt himself by speeding to school.
you got out of your car and walked into the school and to your locker, the usual crowds of students already formed throughout the hallways
opening your locker, you switched your books to the ones you needed when you suddenly felt someone walk up behind you, hearing the familiar voice of your boyfriend ring out
“good morning” he simply said, leaning against the locker next to yours and you turned around in shock
“what are you doing here?” you questioned him and he looked confused
“uh i’m actually trying to pass this semester so i figured going to class is a nice start” he smugly said and you laughed
“no like i meant how come you’re early? normally on wednesday mornings you’re late since you accidentally sleep in from staying out with the boys” you explained and he nodded, rubbing his eye
“yeah luckily wayne got me out of bed and sent me on my way but not before i got any breakfast” he complained, and your eyes lit up
you shoved your books into your locker, freeing your hand and you took the wrapped tin foil and handed it to him
eddie looked at you with a confused smile as he started to open it
“you usually forget to eat on wednesdays because you’re late and i made you breakfast, i know you like bagel sandwiches so i made you one” you explained
eddie stopped unwrapping it, looking at you with wide eyes
“you made this for me?” he questioned and you nodded
“yeah of course, i didn’t want you to be hungry” you said sheepishly
eddie smiled and looked down at the bagel
“thank you” he said in a sincere tone before taking a bite out of the bagel and leaning his head back with a groan
“oh my GOD baby this is amazing!” he yelled, catching the attention of a couple bystanders
he scarfed down the bagel as you talked to him about everything and nothing
the warning bell rang, signaling there was 5 minutes before class started
you shut your locker, holding your books as eddie crumpled the tin foil in his hand. you watched as he tossed it across the hall into the trash can, making it in
“giving jason a run for his money i see” you joked, and eddie smiled
“yeah everyone knows i could beat him but i just can’t handle all that popularity, my schedules pretty booked as is” eddie said making you laugh as he wrapped his arm around you, walking you to your first class
he said goodbye, kissing your cheek before walking down the hallway
he thought to himself how much he loved you. how much he cared for you. and after your act of kindness this morning, it felt like his heart swelled a million times it’s normal size.
he genuinely couldn’t believe that someone as amazing like you truly cared for him, and even though it was as simple as making him breakfast when you realized he wouldn’t have any, it made him care for you even more (even though he didn’t think that was possible)
hell, tears pricked his eyes as he walked into his first period, thinking about you
as he sat in his seat, he wasn’t even phased by the fact that he wasn’t paying attention to whatever his teacher was saying, all he could think about was how lucky he was to have you in his life, and the potential idea of giving you the ring he loved to wear that you always seemed to fiddle with
and all he did the rest of class was figure out the best way to ask you to wear his ring
fin.
#stranger things#eddie munson#munsons-melody#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x y/n
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Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 18
As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.
Alfons: Speaking of, did you know? It has been almost a month since Kate has become Fairytale Keeper.
Though he knew that, some sort of surprise arose in his chest.
Roger: Yeah, it’s…already been a month. Time flies by when you get older.
Alfons: So, how is there any progress to proving that romantic love exists?
Roger: You could say that there’s still not enough research. —However, there’s one thing I noticed.
Roger adjusted his glasses with his middle finger, the black frames reflecting the light.
Roger: “What you call romantic love’s just a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.” That’s my definition of romantic love and I don’t think it’ll ever change. But—I might’ve been ignoring something when I made that definition.
Alfons: What was it?
Roger: We’re cursed to meet a “tragic end”.
Alfons: …
Roger: Our tragic end’s unavoidable. Even if I loved someone. If we can’t change the end, then the love leads down to a bad ending.
“I won’t despair”——Those words that she threw out into the world drew me toward her.
I allowed myself to bask in the pleasure of being by her side as she taught me about love.
I decided to accept this emotion called “love”, which had been an unidentifiable emotion throughout my life.
However, what I saw was—reality hadn’t changed.
Alfons: So it would have been better not to have fallen in love in the first place? Truly an egoistic way of thinking.
Roger: But you know, even if you think like that, there are things you want really badly. Love’s inefficient and I can live my life without it. That view won’t change. But, I don’t give it enough credit—I’ve realized how fun it can be.
Alfons: …o_o
Roger gave an awkward smile as Alfons was struck speechless.
In that moment, the eyes behind those glasses blinked two or three times as if they realized something.
Roger: …Hm?
Alfons: …What is it?
Roger: The place that’s supposed to be locked…is open.
Roger rummaged through the drawers of his workbench and frowned.
Roger: …It’s not here.
Alfons: Has something gone missing?
Roger: The formulation documents for a drug to remove curses… That and a bunch of my other research materials too… Just how long ago were they stolen? Who the hell would steal something so important to me…
Victor: —Pardon me.
Victor came through the lab’s door, his expression dark.
Alfons: What’s the matter, Victor? That’s an unusually grim look on your face.
Victor: Roger. There’s—There’s an arrest warrant issued for you.
Roger: …O_O
Alfons: …o_o
Roger: …Pfft…haha. I see, so that’s how it is. Who set me up?
--
Kate: Hm, I think it’s fine now. It looks like the swelling in my wrist went down overnight.
(Roger’s treatment is just as good as I expected)
I carefully rotated my wrist to check if there was any pain…
Ale: Arf arf arf!
The sound coming from out in the hall was definitely Ale’s barking.
Kate: Ale?
When I opened my door, Ale squeezed through the gap into my room.
Ale: Arf arf arf!
Kate: Hold on, what’s wrong, Ale?
It was like he was trying to tell me something through his barks, and I felt a strange uneasiness.
Ale: Wooo, arf.
Ale circled around me before running out the room…
Kate: Huh, Ale? Wait, where are you going?
--
I ended up following Ale to the palace gardens.
(That’s…!)
I saw Roger being taken away by men in suits and rushed over to them.
Kate: Roger.
Roger: …Kate. Ah, and you brought Ale along.
Roger looked down at Ale at his feet, his wrists cuffed—
(What’s the meaning of this?)
Kate: What in the world is going on?
Roger: …
I stared at them, but all I got in return was silence…
Kate: Where are you planning on taking Roger?
Roger: That’s enough, Kate. These gentlemen were sent by the Privy Council.
(The Privy Council…they’re hostile toward Crown, but why take Roger?
Privy Council member: There’s an arrest warrant issued for Roger Barel. We will be turning him over to the police.
Kate: …An arrest warrant?
(For Roger? Why?)
(...I don’t know what’s going on)
Privy Council member: Let’s go.
Kate: Please wait! Let me talk to Roger for a moment.
Privy Council member: We don’t have time for that. Step aside.
Kate: Please.
Ale: Arf arf! Arf arf!
Then, Ale jumped at the Privy Council members who were about to take Roger away and had refused to listen to me.
Privy Council member: Woah! What’s with this dog!
(Now’s my chance!)
Kate: Roger, this way!
Roger: Hey…
I grabbed Roger’s arm and pulled him away.
--
I led him to the garden behind the palace.
(This should buy us some time…)
Kate: Roger, what’s the meaning of this? Arrest…
Roger: Calm down, Kate. Whatever’s going on is just as you heard.
Kate: …There’s really an arrest warrant?
I frowned at Roger and a deep sigh filled the space between us.
Roger: …Yeah, long story short—I’ve been set up by the Privy Council. I’m now a criminal and a traitor to Crown. At first, I thought it was one of those Vogel guys behind it. Never thought it’d be one of our own.
(He was set up…I don’t understand)
I couldn’t understand the situation, nor could I understand why Roger was so calm about this.
However, what stuck with me the most was—
Kate: …Traitor? You…?
~~ Flashback ~~
Roger: However, I’m gonna change my fate. It’s absurd to allow myself to be controlled by it. Kate, I’ve taken a liking to you so I’ll promise you this. I will never betray you without a reason. Never.
~~ End flashback ~~
(I remember the promise he made that night)
(No one’s fought against their curse as hard as Roger has)
(That’s why I couldn’t believe that Roger would unknowingly betray anyone without intentions—)
Kate: …There’s no way that will ever happen. You would never betray Crown!
Roger: …I could.
My ears picked up a thin, disconnected voice.
Kate: Roger…?
Roger: …It’s laughable, isn’t it…?
Our eyes met and within my chest was the sound of something breaking.
Those amber eyes that always held strong will now held despair.
Roger: I swore to myself that I’d tame my curse. I wouldn’t let fate drive me mad like God’s whim. I resolved to never betray anyone unknowingly. ..And yet. You can’t fight it…just by your will alone?
Words gushed out from the depths of despair, and I felt my chest tighten to the point I couldn’t breathe.
Kate: …
Roger: Is this how I meet my tragic end? …Surrendering myself to my curse…
(Don’t make that face)
Kate: No… You won’t! You can’t let your curse beat you—
I heard the voices and footsteps of those searching for us and quickly hid behind a hedge of Chinese privet.
I took Roger’s hand when I heard the footsteps come closer.
Let’s ask someone for help
Run away with me +4 +4
I’ll hide you
Kate: Run away with me, Roger.
Roger: That’d just make the crime worse.
Kate: …I still don’t have a complete grasp on the situation. However, I know you’ve been falsely accused. Until that gets cleared up…
Roger: Kate, though we ended up spending time together by pure chance, I enjoyed it.
(Huh?)
Kate: What are you talking about at a time like this?
(No. You’re making it sound like you want to go quietly…)
Roger: Take care of Ale. My old man should be back soon to pick him up.
Roger picked Ale up and shoved him in my arms*
Kate: Eh, huh?
Roger: And when your time as Fairytale Keeper’s up, turn to Victor. He’s a good one.
Kate: Roger, what are you saying?
(It’s like you’re treating this as our final time together)
(...Is this…our final time?)
Roger: And finally.
Those lips that wove words I didn’t want to hear landed on mine.
And then…the kiss ended before it could warm my heart
Roger: —Kate, I've fallen for you.
Kate: …
Roger: Heh, what’s with that dumb look? You didn’t notice? You’re pretty dense for someone that boasted about being a teacher of love. You’ve got terrible drinking habits and hate losing, but you’re earnest and stubborn. I know your bad points. Still, even with all this trouble…Kate, I adore you.
What a person.
Saying things I wanted to hear at a time like this.
There’s a limit to being an egoist.
Kate: …Why are you telling me all of this now?!
Roger: ‘Cause I might never see you again. My ego’s telling me I’ll regret not telling you.
Kate: Never see me again…
Roger: I’m retracting my definition of “romantic love’s just a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.” Love definitely exists in this world. Q.E.D.
Tangled threads of emotion unravel.
The moment I thought I could honestly tell him that I love him, now that I’ve finally cast my competitiveness and childish pride aside—
Privy Council member: There they are, I found them!
Roger: Whoops, looks like time’s up. They’re so impatient.
Kate: Roger…
Roger: See ya, Kate. Take care. Ale, you live a long life too.
Ale: …Kuuuuun?
Roger: …Can’t even pet you cuties’ heads with these handcuffs on.
He had a boyish smile on his face as he turned away from us.
Kate: No, Roger! Don’t go! …Roger, Roger! There’s no way you can’t hear me! Roger!
And thus—Roger disappeared from my sight.
His POV | Next
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*I honestly thought that when Kate ran with Roger, she left Ale with the Privy Council
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Hello, since you're taking prompts, I'm here humbly requesting anything with autistic Steve because I adore him and he's relatable af. Steddie, heavy on the comfort? Other than that, whatever you like, I'll love it :)
Wooo!! I wrote this in like three hours because I was on a roll, so I'm excited to share this!
Rating: Teen and UpCW: Meltdown, Overstimulation (Not That Kind), Some Negative Stimming, Mild Internalized AbleismTags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Established Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Cuddling & Snuggling, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Soft Steve Harrington, Soft Eddie Munson
Also on AO3
💕—————💕 His t-shirt was too tight. Had it shrunk in the wash, he initially asked himself. Is this not even mine? But when he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, reflected back at him was the same burgundy colored t-shirt, softly worn and sweat stained, a big graphic stretched across the chest that read: ‘Go Bulls, Go!’. Where this thing came from, he doesn’t remember, but it’s kept him comforted and grounded throughout the years.
Steve had a particular wardrobe. Maybe a bit peculiar to the normal, wandering eye. But to him, his clothes made perfect sense. Every pair of jeans was just a size bigger than he needed them, to give him the extra give. All of his white boxer briefs were made of cotton, because the silky type were always too constricting. His socks had holes and patches on them—worn over and over and over again, folded inside out so that the seams didn’t catch under his toes, but they were the perfect level of softness that he couldn’t find anywhere else. Polos made of cotton. Henleys the same. And his t-shirts, well they were soft, too.
In fact, Steve loves soft things. Loves loose things. Loves expected things.
But now his t-shirt is too tight. The t-shirt he thought of all of the last three days. A t-shirt he thought would look good with his light washed Levi’s—always worn on Thursdays for his day of errands. And looking at the little desktop calendar in his room, it is indeed Thursday. He planned this, but he neither planned nor considered the possibility of a clothing malfunction. His hands go to stretch the hem of the shirt, pluck it away from his body and make the fabric accommodate him. However, at the first tug, the loosely bound hem gives an unmistakable Riiiippp sound.
And…
Great, he thinks, I’ve just ruined one of my favorite shirts.
The t-shirt’s too tight, now ripped, and about to be retired. If only he could find something that works the exact same. Every t-shirt he tries on has some sort of error: too big, too ugly, clashing colors, won’t match the Adidas he picked out last night, stretched on the collar, so on and so forth. It’s Thursday, he thinks, it’s a busy day. Errand day. And now I have nothing to wear. Well, he has something. Not exactly what he planned. But if he doesn’t just put on a damn shirt, he’ll never get through his day, and if he misses out on the free time to take charge of the few errant errands—Steve’ll never get them done or he’ll get them done on a different day, a day where it’s noticeably not Thursday.
He snatches a yellow polo from the back of his closet. Dijon mustard colored. Too scratchy over the downy hairs on his belly. But he doesn’t have the time. Doesn’t have the time to redo his hair—three puffs of hairspray and he’d have to do a fourth, but four doesn’t fit, it’s not right, it’s too different. So he just settles. He’s got a schedule today, and damn the world for already trying to stop him.
Next on his agenda is breakfast.
Which, now that his head is shoved dutifully in the fridge and he’s rummaging around like a dumpster diving raccoon, he remembers that he has to go grocery shopping. Down to three large eggs, a couple bacon strips that didn’t crunch right the last time he ate them, and some cream cheese for bagels he can’t reason eating anymore. But he makes do. Again, settling—always settling, it seems. Because today just can’t go right.
Half-way through the eggs, his brain reminds him that he’s eating eggs. The texture going from wonderfully scrambled, not too soft and not too dry—to awfully rubbery and terribly bland and disgustingly charred. His bacon didn’t crisp right, so he won’t even attempt the few nibbles that lay out on his plate. And the bagel is just…staring up at him like the thousand eyes on every spider of his nightmares. Just the mere thought of cream cheese on his tongue has him wanting to hurl. So he tosses the rest, sets his plate in the sink, and wonders if he’ll even have the time to do the dishes—they aren’t piling by any means, but he didn’t plan this. He wanted cereal this morning. Had thought about the near glass like shards of Cap’n Crunch against the roof of his mouth, drenched in whole fat milk. But, again—You’re an idiot, he’s starting to chastise—he forgot that he needed to do a grocery run today.
Now that his stomach isn’t full and is left completely unsettled. Now that his shirt is scratching him and rough in all the wrong places. Now that more wrongs have been done to him than rights, he can woefully cart himself to the supermarket.
Only to get there and not find a spot. Well, one in the back of the parking lot is barely a spot. The one he hates parking in because he always has to walk two minutes longer than he needs to and sometimes the gravel from the nearby bushes is kicked up and then he steps on it and there’ll be a rock in the sole of his shoe. Like there is today because of course, of all days, there are little jagged gravel rocks for him to step on and feel through the soft, giving out soles of his sneakers. Of course, he thinks—riding over mildly irritated to extremely annoyed within seconds.
The grocery store is hell on earth, if it exists. Lights fluorescent and produce aisle sprinklers going haywire and the coffee grounds too fresh and the chatter of people incessant. Annoying.
He brought a paper slip with him. His chicken scratch identifiable to him. Reading:
Grocery List
Milk White Bread (Wonder, not Kroger) Peanut Butter (Jiff, not Skippy) Laundry Detergent - unscented Cat food (salmon this time, maybe that’ll lure in that stray?) Pasta (Thin spaghetti, penne, and farfalle) Parmesan (Preferably not in the jar, but whatever is cheapest) Potatoes Pop-Tarts? (Eddie’s favorite is brown sugar) Chicken Chicken nuggets
The cart he grabs has a wheel that squeaks the entire time he pushes it. Wonder bread is sold out by the time he gets to the right aisle. They really should say something when they change the layout of the store, he notes bitterly, stuffing a couple loafs of Kroger white bread into his cart. Skippy was the chosen option of the creamy peanut butters, simply because the Jiff wasn’t on sale anymore. On the bright side, salmon wet cat food wasn’t too expensive, even if he could only grab three cans. The Pop-Tarts are forgotten by the time he makes it back to his car. And the first paper bag has a handle that rips off almost immediately. And he forgot to unload the quite substantial amount of baseball supplies he brought to the park the other day—which means the bags are loaded into the backseat and he can only hope and pray that the milk doesn’t topple over and squish the bread or god forbid the laundry detergent somehow gets jostled the wrong way and spills all over his car.
He should’ve made another list of things he needs to remember he’d done. Would’ve been nice, he supposes, if he told his future self that the baseball equipment is still in his trunk. But, alas, here he is playing the same Tears for Fears tape again, listening to the baseballs clink off of each other. Thank god for the Tears for Fears tape, though—it’s the same one he’s listened to nearly every day since he bought it in 1983. At least that’s something to expect. At least it’s something he can rely on after the absolute shitshow he’s had today.
Though, maybe he should’ve expected having to pull over to the shoulder. In a car that chokes and gives up when he’s two-thirds back, half-way through his errands list, and completely done with everything. His hands are tight on the steering wheel. And there’s nothing but silence flowing around him. It’s like drowning, sitting here like this. For once, after everything he’s ever experienced and having so many bad days like this, he doesn’t know what to do.
A part of him, the overwhelmingly obvious part, wants to scream and cry and kick his legs out in front of him. Wants to dig the heels of his feet into the pure asphalt underneath the rubber tires of his stupid, unreliable car. Maybe tear the shirt right off his body and squish himself back to normal. But in the open, bright pool of sunlight, he can do nothing but just sit there. Head against the steering wheel, wet breaths through his nose, and a tightness in his throat that won’t rid even after his fifth swallow. Part of him wants to cry and cry and cry and never stop crying. And it sounds good. Not here, though. Not yet.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there before something knocks on his window. So, he rolls his head over to peer—not at all that gently, with enough force to drive a hard line into his skin. But when he catches sight of the person watching him nearly fall apart, he wants to cry impossibly more.
It’s Eddie. With his big, soft, concerned eyes. Hair tied up into a bun. Coveralls over his body, splattered with oil and other unidentifiable muck. Probably coming back from an early morning shift at the auto shop in town. He can help, maybe. So, Steve cranks down his window. Enough that Eddie can dangle his arms inside and crouch down to get a better looks.
“Stevie,” he softly greets. “You doin’ okay?”
Steve just shrugs. Makes some sort of noncommittal grunt. He works his jaw tight and tense. Mumbles, “Car broke down.”
Eddie hums, acknowledging. He looks over his shoulder briefly, leans to peer into the backseat, and then looks onto Steve again. “I can take a look, if you want, sweetheart.”
“Don’t have enough money to get it fixed right now.”
“Baby,” Eddie sighs. His eyes go half-lidded with aching. He reaches out a tentative hand and gently traces his fingers over Steve’s left shoulder. Inching his way to his neck, where knots are surely forming. “It’s free of charge for you, you know that.”
“I just don’t care about it right now,” Steve lies. He cares a great deal. Cares that this has ruined his day. Has ruined the rest of his plans, but if he admits that, he’s sure he’ll cry. He’s not sure why that’s his first reaction: to cry and break things and flap his hands as if ridding the energy. Not sure why it hurts to look Eddie in the eyes right now. Why everything that’s happened has affected him so negatively. Why he’s so particular about his things to do and how he dresses and what he eats. But he knows he’ll cry if he explains.
“Okay,” Eddie mutters. His fingers are soothing over Steve’s shoulder. Light and airy and so soft, it makes Steve want to melt. “How about I drive you back? Help you unpack your groceries? We can leave this baby right here for now and figure out how to get it back to you later, alright?”
Wordlessly, Steve nods, hauls himself out of the driver’s seat, and helps Eddie unpack the bags into the back of his van. That part of him that wants to destroy flares alive inside of him. And he has to restrain himself from chucking the milk carton against the side of the van. But he gets into the passenger seat, silent and seething and mildly overwhelmed.
He gets angrier, though, as soon as Eddie’s radio blares to life. Heavy, obnoxiously loud drums and guitars and vocals fill the space. Instinctively, Steve’s hands shoot to his ears, covering them completely with his palms, digging his fingernails into the skin around them. Garbled, he makes a noise of great discomfort. Grits his teeth together. Squeezes his eyes shut until little speckles of black float in the corners. And hunches into himself, compact and an easy trick to consolidate himself. It doesn’t work, though. Nothing is working in his favor.
“Turn it off, Eddie,” he distantly hears himself snap, “turn it off!”
All at once, the music stops.
Steve sighs, not quite relieved, but easier. It’s still bright. And Eddie’s van smells a little bit like marijuana. And maybe Steve hasn’t smoked that in a little while because the scent is too intense and he never knows how to explain why the smell alone makes him want to scream, but it does and he knows part of that isn’t normal but he doesn’t know how to be normal and now he’s blown his cover all because of something petulant like music being too loud and now Eddie won’t want to date him because he’s being irritable and annoying and—
“Sweetheart?” Eddie’s distant, raspy, soft voice calls. “Is it a migraine? Do you need some water?”
“No,” Steve answers tersely. “Just take me home, Eddie.” He can’t loosen himself from the tight hold, from the squeeze of his eyelids, from the tension in his fingers. But he’s probably making an ass of himself. Probably pissing Eddie off. “Please,” he tacks on, “please take me home, Eddie.”
Nothing else is said as the van rattles and grumbles, pulling away from where Eddie had been parked. There’s no words. No music. Eddie doesn’t fidget. Steve doesn’t think either of them breathe, really. And not only has he pissed Eddie off, but he’s starting to make himself angry. Why couldn’t I just be normal, Steve internally bemoans. I’m being annoying. And he shouldn’t be helping me. And I should’ve just called a tow truck. And I’m making a big deal out of nothing, just like Mom and Dad used to say.
And if he were in a different mindset, he could probably think about why that statement used to feel so miserable. When his parents would dismiss him. Send him to his room. Where he’d sob into his pillows and toss his books across the room and hide inside his closet because it’s the only place that truly felt safe. The closet, where the world couldn’t reach him, and the lights were all dark and he could hum as much as he wanted. Because nobody could find him. And nobody cared. And then he was warm, safe, the version of himself he felt he needed to be.
Eddie parks gently. He helps bring the groceries inside. And then he just stays. As if Steve didn’t just ruin everything. But he looks at him with those concerned eyes again, fidgeting with his fingers because he wants to reach out, about two seconds away from crawling out of his skin. Meanwhile, Steve’s pacing back and forth, squeezing his hands shut, eyes closed, breathing heavy through his nose.
“Is something wrong, Steve?” Eddie finally breaks.
Steve shakes his head quickly. “Long day,” he gets out.
Humming, Eddie takes a step forward. He tilts his head and attempts to make eye contact, but Steve averts his gaze. “Why don’t we sit down for a bit and take a little breather?”
“This is the wrong shirt,” Steve blurts, scratching at his stomach again. The shirt keeps rubbing up and down whenever he bends, whenever he moves for that matter. It’s starchy and too new. Too much, not enough. “And my hair is a mess.”
“It’s not a mess,” Eddie murmurs, “looks fine to me.”
“No. I messed it up this morning. Because I tried on all my shirts.”
“All of them?”
Steve nods hastily. “None of them were right. And that doesn’t make sense, I know, but it’s true. And I put three puffs of hairspray in, needed a fourth, but that’s not right either.” He angles his head up at the ceiling, furls and unfurls his hands a few more times before placing them palm down and flat against his chest. Wants to press down. Hard enough to remember, but not enough to bruise. So he does. Gives in. Allows himself this one good thing, the pressure, the hurt, the sizzling ache. “My breakfast was gross.”
“Yeah? What’d you have, baby?” Eddie gently asks.
“Why—“ Steve gasps, struggling. “Why are you fine with this?”
Taken aback, Eddie makes a soft noise. His eyes widen and he furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m being weird. I—You saw me! I was having like a little mini freakout in my car and then I got all mad at you and I was covering my ears and keeping myself tight and now I’m—Fuck, I’m going insane.
“Everything’s wrong. Everything is so wrong. My whole day is fucking wrong. Schedule got ruined. The clothes I planned out days ago didn’t work. My breakfast was bullshit and the grocery store didn’t have the right bread and Skippy is my least favorite peanut butter, but I had to get it because it was on sale and I forgot to get those Pop-Tarts you like even though I wrote them down on my stupid list but I don’t make enough lists because I forgot about the baseball stuff in my car and it shouldn’t have been there and that’s why I had to put the groceries in the backseat and the only good thing was my Tears for Fears album was still in the radio—And…Fuck.” Steve takes a haltingly loud gasping breath. He slams his hands over his chest, finally giving in to that innate urge he’s carried since he was a kid. Squeezes his eyes shut again, not wanting to see whatever hurt or disappointment or realization washes over Eddie’s face.
He continues, “I left the album in my car. The light’s too bright. I can…I can like hear the wiring in the fixtures. Everything. I’m feeling…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know,” Steve babbles. His hands flex into his shirt, the fabric wrong on his skin. Fingernails scratching at it, trying to tear it off. Wants to crouch down onto his knees and hide between the corner cabinets, nestle himself in a dark place, cry until there’s nothing left to give.
The realization hits him all at once, he needs to get away. To the safe space he created. So he forces himself around Eddie, up the stairs, behind his slammed bedroom door. And he crawls the rest of the way into the deep, far side of his closet. On top of old blankets, underneath too small clothes. Rests his head against the wall. And just…sobs.
His elbows rest upon his knees as he shields his face with his forearms. The sounds of his cries muffled by his own skin. He kicks off his sneakers and digs his feet into the pile of blankets underneath him. Trying to get rid of the itchy, swooping, nauseous ache from inside him. He doesn’t like this part of his bad days. Doesn’t like being alone. To be left with his own mess. But he’s not sure how Eddie will respond, so he figures this is better.
Though, that’s quickly proven wrong when Eddie carefully comes in, announcing himself as the door opens. He stops in front of the closet and crouches down. “Hey, Stevie? Is it alright if I’m in here, baby?”
Steve sniffles. “I…You’re not going to be mean, are you?”
“No, Steve. I promise I’ll be nice. I just…You seem really overwhelmed and I thought maybe I could help you a little bit.” He shuffles forward slightly, opening the closet door from inside. Peeks through the gap. Asks, “How?”
“Could give you a hug? But…I was thinking we could trade shirts first? Mine is pretty soft, kind of loose. I know that’s how you like your t-shirts, baby.” For good measure, he plucks his t-shirt and gestures for Steve’s.
“You’ll look like a dork.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be comfortable. So hand me your shirt and I’ll give you mine.”
Once they’ve exchanged shirts, Steve leaves the closet and sits with Eddie against the side of his bed. Sure, the mattress may be soft and feel nice, but the firm ground under him keeps him anchored. He leans into Eddie’s side, lets him drape an arm over his shoulders, and sighs into the hold. Eddie’s other hand comes up and he traces fingers over Steve’s hairline, featherlight but caring all the same.
“Does this help?” Eddie whispers.
“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “Sorry about…Well, being weird and getting all intense earlier.”
Eddie shrugs. “It wasn’t like that at all, baby. You had a bad day, nothing worked in your favor. I’m not going to fault you for reacting.”
“I was crying in my closet, Eds. That’s hardly normal.”
“I’d cry, too if I had the day you experienced.” He runs his hand between Steve’s shoulder blades, pressing firmly over the tense knots that formed. “Is there anything I can do? Anything on your list that you need help with?”
Steve nuzzles his face into Eddie’s shoulder, cheek squished against the joint. Muffled, he says, “For now, can you just hold me for a while? Nobody’s ever comforted me like this after…Well, you saw what happened. But later, can you help me vacuum and mop?”
“I’ll hold you forever,” Eddie promises. “And I’ll exterminate all the dust bunnies you could ever think to encounter, nothing could make me happier.”
Something in him finally chips away. He’s not quite loose, yet. Not ready to release all the pent up negative energy he’s seemed to catch throughout his day. But he can believe Eddie, for the moment. He rests his head deeper into Eddie’s shoulder, lets himself fall into whatever song Eddie is humming, reaches out and grips firmly to one of Eddie’s hands. Plays with his rings, the smooth metal like a balm on the fatty part of his thumb. He relishes in how Eddie just lets him. Lets him, despite everything.
He can’t quite look Eddie in the eyes, not yet. Can’t force himself off the ground. Can’t quite get rid of that intense, drowning sensation that burbles in his chest—makes him want to cry and breakdown even further. And maybe he can, realistically. But later, he surmises, later he’ll do that, so long as Eddie continues to not mind.
The warmth of their shared bodies is nice. The softness of Eddie’s t-shirt against his skin. The gentle musk left on the collar from whatever cologne Eddie uses. Something with bergamot, a little bit of citrus, something like bourbon. He closes his eyes softly. There’s not much light flooding into his bedroom, just a stripe of golden sunlight from between his curtains, but that’s fine.
For the first time today, something is fine.
“I like this,” Steve quietly admits. “You being here with me through this, I mean.”
Eddie makes an acknowledging hum. “Whenever you need me, I’m a phone call away, sweetheart. I’ll come dashing over, your knight in shining armor, armed with the softest of t-shirts and the most delicious of snacks just for you, baby.”
Steve chuckles. A sound he thought wouldn’t be possible on a day like this. Despite everything, he smiles softly. “I’d love that,” he whispers, “I love you, Eds. Thank you for making me feel a little bit normal.”
“I love you, too, Stevie,” he responds, easy as that. “And I mean it, baby. I love you, I want to hold you and cherish you. You need anything, any time of day, you call me. Bad days are no joke.”
“Mmm,” Steve gently hums. “Maybe I should add cuddle time to my daily routine?”
“Maybe you should,” Eddie agrees. “I think that would be excellent for both of us.”
“Good,” Steve states quietly. He wraps his own arm around Eddie’s waist, pulls him in tighter, and tucks in close. “This feels right.”
💕——–——💕 Taglist: @hotluncheddie
#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#autistic steve harrinton#angst and hurt/comfort
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