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vivwritescrappythings · 5 months

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Late Night Visits

Eddie Munson x Harrington!Virgin!Reader

Second fanfic is smut? Not proofread because this is an adapted excerpt from a much longer fanfic that I've been writing for a long time.

Eddie catches you dropping Max off and invites you over, he teaches you how to smoke weed and smut ensues.

TW: smut, marijuana use, dubcon? (they are both high so take that as you will), p in v sex, fingering, loss of virginity, afab reader, she/her pronouns.

Word count: 6.8k

MDNI!

masterlist

You turned your car into the trailer park, Kate Bush blasting in the car as you took Max Mayfield home. Your older brother, Steve, had asked you to give her a ride after his band of high school freshmen had come over for a movie night, Max was singing along, closing her eyes as she drummed her hands on her thighs. You could feel yourself smiling as you looked at her out of the corner of your eye. She was vibrant, glowing under every streetlamp you passed.

The lights in her trailer were still on when you parked out front, grabbing the mixtape out of the stereo. Max was already out of the car and snatching her bag out of the backseat by the time you got out, leaning on the driver side door as you waited for her. You made it a rule to always watch anyone you dropped off go inside, especially after what happened with Will.

“Max?” Sue called, leaning out the front door. You couldn’t quite make out her face, but the tension in her tone was obvious.

“Hey Mrs. Mayfield!” you yelled back, waving. Her sigh of relief was loud enough to be heard down the street. She went back inside without saying anything else, leaving the front door open for Max to follow. The lights from the TV lit her up as she settled back into the couch, crossing her ankles as she grabbed her beer off the side table.

“Don’t forget this.” You tossed the mixtape to Max as she passed. She called back a thanks and a quick goodnight as she ran up to her front door, slamming it behind her. You huffed, letting your head roll back and rest on the roof of the car as you looked at the stars.

Life had felt off lately, your parents were still gone a majority of the time and you were a senior in high school. You’d been getting nightmares, strange dreams of your parents screaming at you that you were a disappointment in comparison to Steve and how they were ashamed you were their daughter. Their mouths would end up sewn shut, blood dripping down their chins. You hadn’t slept right in weeks.

“What are you doing aaaaall the way out here, prom queen?” The way Eddie Munson stretched his vowels was unmistakable. You looked over your shoulder at the trailer across the way, seeing him toss a bag in the trash can out front by the curb. If you didn’t recognize him instantly, the beat-up van out front was a dead give-away.

There was something about Eddie that ignited a flare of excitement in your spine, it was a thrill that he was even talking to you. You’d had classes together, seen him in the halls, but never really acknowledged one another more than a simple nod of greeting.

“Just dropping off a friend,” you called back, spinning the rest of the way around to get a better look at him. You pressed your stomach against the driver side window as you crossed your arms on the roof. The metal was warm as you rested your chin on your forearms. He was backlit by the floodlight, his frizzy hair glowing gold.

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “You feelin’ okay to drive?” he yelled, you felt yourself stiffen. There was a rumor flying around the high school that you were showing up drunk. It turns out that you were just exhausted beyond belief. You looked back at Max’s trailer to see if there was any movement inside. “Just with your new habits and all.”

You’d been going through a confrontational streak lately. You marched around the car and right up to him, your fists balled at your sides. Eddie was grinning like an idiot as he watched you approach, crossing his arms over his chest like it was a challenge. You’d never seen him look so casual before, wearing only a black tank top and tattered plaid pajama pants. Usually he was decked to the nines, trying to look like a member of Motley Crue on their day off.

“Will you shut up!” you seethed, watching his eyes sparkle as you came to a halt in front of him. He opened his mouth and sucked in a deep breath, raising his head to the sky like he was getting ready to shout. Oh my god he’s just fucking with you now. You pressed your hand across his mouth, whatever he was trying to say muffled by your palm. You couldn’t help the smile that was spreading across your face as you looked back over your shoulder at Max’s. “Seriously, Sue knows my mom! And I wasn’t even drinking!”

He made a noise to get your attention, your hand still smacked across the bottom part of his face as you felt him smile. Then you felt his warm, wet tongue lick a stripe across your palm. Your face twisted into a grimace as you pulled your hand away, wiping the spit on your sweater as a smile twitched the edges of your mouth.

“Alright, alright. Just didn’t expect to see you on this side of the tracks.” You cocked your head, what did he mean? He gasped dramatically, raising a hand to fan his face as he batted his lashes. “Oh Mr. Munson, I could never be caught dead in a trailer park. What would my loyal subjects at Hawkins High say?” His voice was high pitched and aloof, mocking you.

You laughed, a flush heating your cheeks as you were caught off guard. “Shut up! I don’t sound like that.” He dropped the act, smiling as he looked you up and down.

“What are you doing the rest of tonight?” he asked, scratching his cheek with his pointer finger. Your eyes narrowed slightly, was he trying to make a move? “Hey, not trying to steal your virtue or anything,” Eddie laughed, looking sheepishly down at his bare feet, “just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out or something.”

You appraised him for one more moment, nodding solidly. “Sure, but we are keeping it platonic with a capital P, Munson.” The smile that bloomed on his face could have lit up the whole block as he nodded enthusiastically. He crossed his fingers over his heart with a flourish as he turned to lead you inside the quaint trailer.

The aroma of cologne and weed hit you first as you walked up the porch, Eddie opening the door wider. You stepped inside carefully, looking around as you toed your shoes off in the corner. It was cozy inside, maybe a little cluttered and messy. The carpet in the living room was squishing under my socks. The black loveseat and mismatched recliner took up most of the space, minimal furniture along the walls otherwise. There was a small kitchen off to the side and some stools at a breakfast bar.

“Yeah, it’s no White House.” Eddie shut the door and locked it. Was he… self conscious? “It’s nice,” you said, looking over your shoulder at him. His eyebrows shot up in a ‘whatever you say’ vibe as he shrugged and walked inside. “Is this your place?”

He was shutting the door at the end of the hall, his bedroom? “No, my uncle lives here with me–works nights at the plant. Makes the big bucks.”

Eddie sat in the recliner with a groan, stretching his legs out under the coffee table. He gestured to the loveseat next to him with a ringed hand, a clear sign to join him. Of course he’d wear all his jewelry in his pajamas. You sat down, crossing your legs beneath you as you sank into the well-loved couch. “What are we watching?” you asked, resting your cheek on the rough fabric.

He held out a stack of movies: “I just got these from Family Video.” You pressed your lips together, taking them out of his hands.

You shuffled through, mostly horror titles. “Wow, no Grease?” You giggled at his expression before continuing through the selection. “What about Return of the Jedi?” You were way too skittish to watch horror movies anymore, you already couldn’t sleep as it was–you didn’t need anything to help with that.

You pushed the movie in his hands before he had time to protest, placing the rest on the coffee table. “Really, Return of the Jedi?” Eddie asked, getting up from his seat to put the movie in the VHS player.

You nodded matter-of-factly, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re the one who rented it,” you argued, watching the commercials begin to play on the TV. A blue light cast over the living room as he sat back down. The lamp next to you clicked as he switched it off with a twist of his fingers.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d have to call you a geek, prom queen.” His voice strained as he reached over the far side of the recliner for something. He produced a bong with a flourish, the glass glimmering in the low light. The slightly murky water sloshed around inside as he set it on the end table between you, pulling the bowl out. You tried not to stare, you’d only ever seen bongs in passing at parties.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he dumped the contents into an ashtray on the end table, scraping the inside of it clean with a pocket knife. He produced a metal cylinder out of what seemed like nowhere, pulling the top half of it off carefully. His movements were delicate and methodical, clearly he’d done this a thousand times.

“You want some?” he asked as he put the bowl back in it, holding the glass piece out to you by its neck. He held a zippo lighter in the other hand. You watched him spin the square of metal between his forefinger and thumb, thinking of an answer.

The truth was better than anything else. “Oh, uh, I’ve never smoked before,” you muttered, glancing down at your hands. Your nail polish was horrendously chipped, a nervous habit you’d picked up over the summer.

“Well if you want to try, on the house.” His voice was gentle as he held it out to you again. An offering. You shifted slightly to face him, your gaze bouncing between the bong and his soft brown eyes.

Hesitantly, you took it from his hand. Your fingers bumped his as you grabbed the neck of it, the glass cool to the touch. Your other hand had to support the base—it was heavier than you expected. “I uh, I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, a nervous grin pulling at your lips.

“Don’t worry it’s easy, I’ll help you,” he murmured, getting up to sit on the coffee table in front of you. His knees bracketed yours, the soft fabric of his pajama pants rubbing against your jeans. The minty smell of his shampoo was thick in your nose. “Alright, so, put your mouth on the top. You should feel the rim of the mouthpiece on the outside of your lips.” He watched you do it, your hand still holding the neck. You already felt self conscious.

“Okay good, now I’ll help you with the rest. Pretty girls should never light their own bowls—got it?” You fought the urge to protest, just rolling your eyes instead.

“So just do what I tell you.” You gave him a brief nod, barely lifting your head. He was grinning mischievously. You looked at him through your lashes as he flicked the lighter on, putting the flame to the bowl. “Okay suck in.” God, you must be as red as a tomato by now.

His other hand came up to hold the bottom of the bong, his calloused fingers overlapping yours. You resisted shying away from his touch. His hands were warm as he lifted it a little, letting you straighten your spine. You could hear the water bubbling as the bong filled with a thick white smoke. It was a few seconds before he plucked the smoldering bowl out, letting you suck the contents into your lungs.

You sat up abruptly, tears in your eyes as you fought to keep the smoke in. The bong was thrust back to him clumsily in your haste to get away from it. You managed to last a few seconds before you coughed it out, blowing smoke over his living room. “Jesus Christ,” you grunted between coughs. It felt like your chest was on fire. Eddie was chuckling, going to the kitchen. You could hear the sink running before a mason jar full of water was set on the coffee table.

“That was pretty good for your first time.” He repeated the same motions with himself, exhaling the smoke slowly as he settled back into the recliner. You couldn’t stop coughing, your throat feeling like you tried to swallow steel wool. “You’ll cough less the more you get used to it, everyone coughs their first time,” he said encouragingly, motioning for you to drink water.

You finally were able to breathe again, taking deep gulps of air. You wiped the last of the tears out of the corners of your eyes on the back of your hand. Thankfully you hadn’t bothered to put on makeup tonight.

“Now’s time for the fun to begin,” he whispered, grinning as he rubbed his hands together. You watched the tattoos on his arms flex as the muscle under them moved–slightly surprised by how many he had.

“When am I supposed to feel it?” you asked, the beginning credits of the movie starting. You watched the yellow text fly across the screen, your fingers nervously twisting a loose thread of your sweater.

“Oh, you’ll know when you feel it.” You nodded, tucking your feet back under your thighs as you leaned against the arm of the loveseat.

It must have been a mere ten minutes later when you realized your face was buzzing and your head was full of air. Your eyes moved slower than you thought they would, taking snapshots of the room before settling back on the screen. At some point you’d slid off the couch and onto the floor, contorting yourself in the small space between it and the coffee table.

“How you feelin’, prom queen?” Eddie was still in the recliner, leaning back but not fully stretched out yet. His pajama pants looked soft, you fought the urge to touch the fabric.

You laughed—like, really laughed rather than your practiced soft giggle—your head rolling back so you could look at him. He was grinning broadly, watching you with his arms stretched over the back of the chair. “M’feeling pretty good,” you said, trying to stifle your giggles. What was so funny?

Eddie giggled along with you, running a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, you’re definitely feeling it.” He looked goofy upside down. His hair was curling in all directions as he shook it back out, turning his attention to the movie. You lifted your head, feeling like you were fighting the full weight of earth’s gravity to look at the TV again.

It felt like you had blinders on, your peripheral vision swirling dizzily. You barely moved as Eddie got up from the recliner to disappear somewhere. Your breath was shallow, you could feel every fiber of the carpet rubbing against your socks. The sweater you wore was warm, practically making you melt into the shape of the furniture. Your limbs were heavy, everytime you moved it was like fighting molasses. Was this how being stoned always was?

The smell of food brought you back to the present as Eddie settled back down, a big plate in his hands. You watched him pick up a piece of food and put it in his mouth, immediately hissing as he burned his tongue. “Shit are those pizza rolls?” Your stomach rumbled, were you always this hungry?

He laughed, “If you want some, you gotta come sit up here with me, pretty girl.” You scrambled, feeling progressively more uncoordinated as you pulled yourself to a standing position. Your joints cracked as you stretched, feeling a little dizzy as the blood rushed to your head. You slumped into the couch, leaning far over the arm of it and the end table as you reached for one. “They’re hot,” he warned, sounding like a babysitter.

You rolled your eyes, biting the corner off it carefully and letting the steam billow out. “You’re a freak, no one eats pizza rolls like that,” Eddie said, but his smile gave him away. You watched the steam swirl in your breath, disappearing quickly.

You stuck yourr tongue out, eating the pizza roll in one mouthful after it cooled. You chewed thoroughly, swallowing with a gulp of water. “At least I didn’t burn my tongue.” Not to mention, it was the most delicious thing you’d ever tasted.

The pizza rolls were long gone and the movie had ended a while ago. The Twilight Zone played on the TV, but neither of you were paying attention. “So like, am I a stoner now?” you asked, laughing quietly. The question even sounded stupid when it tumbled out of your mouth.

“I’d say you are a hopeless drug-addict,” he joked. He had taken another hit only moments before, letting you have the remnants. It reinvigorated the goofy haze. Your head was buzzing again and you just let thoughts tumble out of your mouth.

You scoffed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You wish, Munson.” You were smiling as you ran your hands through your hair, tossing it against the part. You were sure it was sticking up in a million places, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Eddie’s umber colored eyes darted to look at you, dragging up you in a way that set you on fire. You felt yourself squirm under his heavy gaze, your lips parting a bit. “Thanks for asking me to hang out,” you blurted. You cracked your knuckles as you shifted around, trying to find a new comfortable position.

The seam of your jeans kept pressing in all the right places, making you wiggle your hips in an attempt to get it to stop. You’d never felt this sensitive before, but now every sensation seemed to send a tingle up your spine and heat in your belly. A flush covered your cheeks, your gaze tracking back to the television.

“You okay? You seem awfully… squirmy there, prom queen,” Eddie murmured, his gaze still focused on you. His eyes were softened at the edges with concern, the whites of them bloodshot.

“Yeah, um, just trying to get comfortable,” you said, stilling into a position despite your heart pounding in your chest. A rumor had been flying around Hawkins High that Eddie was… well endowed. All of a sudden you were curious to see if it was true. “S’just getting to my head, I guess.”

One of his eyebrows lifted enough to disappear under his bangs. Eddie stood from the recliner, moving to sit next to you on the small couch. His arm looped behind you, bat tattoos printed into the pale skin as he stooped to make eye contact. “You alright? Don’t want you getting overwhelmed, prom queen. Some people get anxious when they’re stoned.”

You couldn’t help the overwhelming heat that consumed your whole face and neck. “I-I’m not anxious, I promise,” you mumbled, your tongue darting out to wet your lower lip on its own volition. Eddie was sitting close to you, his knee pressing into your thigh. You could smell mint, tobacco, and weed on him, the combination making your stomach flip.

“You sure? I really can’t let Harrington’s little sister have a heart attack on my couch,” he murmured, moving a little closer. You giggled half-heartedly, glancing at the television for a moment to give yourself a second to not think about the way Eddie is crowding you against the arm of the couch.

“M’sure,” you said, your voice soft and a bit airy. You didn’t look back at Eddie, your face still hot. You pressed your thighs together a bit, the friction helping relieve some of the pressure building between your legs.

Eddie’s calloused thumb hooked under your chin, directing your gaze back to him. He had a gentle smile on his face, leaning forward toward you. “What’s going on in your brain, pretty girl?” he asked, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. Your breath was shallow in your throat, your chest tightening as you looked at the metalhead in front of you.

“I dunno,” you said, his fingers pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger keeping your head in place. His eyes flickered between your lips and eye contact with you. It made your mind short-circuit, clumsily trying to work toward an answer for his question that wasn’t the honest answer. “Does, uh, weed ever make you feel… weird?” you asked, wanting to smack yourself as the words left your lips.

“Weird how?” Eddie asked, his fingers finally left your chin. His large hand curled around your shoulder, squeezing lightly. Every touch kept sidetracking you–you’d done some things with guys before. Kissing and making out and touching weren’t new to you, but you hadn’t really ever gone farther than that. You never wanted to–but you did now.

You didn’t stop to think about it, not even considering whether or not you should ask Eddie if he was okay with it before you leaned forward and twisted your head up to capture his lips in a kiss as you shut your eyes. You could feel him smile against your mouth, the hand curled around your shoulder continuing on its path to press between your shoulder blades. Eddie leaned forward, the small of your back hitting the armrest of the love seat.

It went from hesitant and tentative to needy, your lips slotting together and noses mashing against one another as you both got more into the kiss. Eddie’s other hand found the back of your neck, his fingers slotting into your hair as he tilted your head just the way he wanted it. His lips parted, his tongue slicking along your bottom lip before you let it lick into your mouth.

You only parted when your lungs were on fire, your mouths separating with a soft click and a gossamer string of saliva illuminated by the warm light of the lamp behind you. Your eyes fluttered open, already finding Eddie looking down at you as he smoothed a hand down your back and around your waist. Chests heaving and foreheads bumping together, you both smiled and giggled sheepishly,

“Weird like that,” you whispered, a tinge of a joke in your tone. Your body was twisted, both of your feet on the carpet as you twisted at the waist to face Eddie. His knees were pointed toward you, one leg bent beneath him as his other pressed into the floor to get leverage.

He smiled, his hand dipping to run his fingertips along the hem of your sweater. “Good weird, then,” Eddie mumbled, stamping his lips over yours with an urgency you didn’t expect. You twisted your body in a comfortable position, slotting your legs around his slim waist as you returned his fervent kisses.

His hand slipped beneath your sweater, ghosting along the soft skin on your belly. The sensation of Eddie’s fingers on your skin made your breath hitch. You could feel the clench in your lower abdomen, need burrowing deep within you as his hand continued to travel upward. He cupped over the fabric of your bra, his thumb pressing the swell of your breast just along the edge of it.

“Eddie,” you whimpered against his mouth, the press of his index finger through the thin padding of your bra to tease your stiffened nipple making you keen. He smirked, repeating the motion by circling the hardened nub with the pad of his index finger over the slippery polyester. Your breath stuttered in your throat, desperation clouding along the edges of your eyes as he tilts you even further over the arm of the couch.

“Feelin’ okay, princess?” he asked, rubbing turning into heavy petting as he pinched your nipple between his index and middle fingers. Your brows were pinched together, your back arching as you chased the sensation. You nodded, eyelids partially obscuring your gaze as you met Eddie’s.

His hand slipped beneath the underwire band of your bra, his knuckles pressing against the squishy cup of it as he finally felt your bare breast. Your eyelids fluttered as you softly moaned his name beneath him. Your sweater was bunched up on Eddie’s forearm, the backs of your thighs pressing against the top of his as he bent to lave his tongue over your throat.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you sighed, tilting your head to expose more of your throat to him. Each swipe of his thumb over your nipple sent a jolt of sensation to your clit. You could feel yourself get more turned on with every touch, your hands winding around his exposed biceps to keep him close.

He sat back on his heels, pulling your sweater over your head to expose your plain, black bra. A dopey smile came over his face as his gaze focused on your breasts like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning. You took initiative, your arms twisting behind you to unlatch your bra at your spine and shed it onto the living room floor.

“When is your uncle supposed to get back?” you asked, that bit of information springing forward in your mind as something that could be important. Eddie was too distracted, his ringed hands finding your breasts and squeezing the soft flesh beneath the stretch of his fingers. “Eddie,” you said, your voice somewhere between scolding him and moaning.

“Not ‘till morning, princess. We’re okay,” he mumbled, his tone airy as he licked his lower lip. You gasped as he teased both of your nipples, your spine arching toward the sensation as he massaged your chest. Your hips jolted, the seam of your jeans pressing against your clit and practically punching the air from your lungs.

A smirk found its way to Eddie’s face, his brown eyes darkening as he left one of your breasts unattended to unbutton your jeans with swift fingers. He let out a soft groan when he saw your baby pink underwear as he tugged the zipper down, his fingers gently pulling at the little white bow along the waistband. He bit his lower lip, his brows pinching together as he looked at you beneath him.

“This okay, princess?” he finally asked, his voice deep and raspy as he spoke.

“Yeah, more than okay.” You desperately wanted him to continue, already so soaked that you could feel the gusset of your panties sticking.

Eddie dipped his fingers below the waistband of your panties, leaning forward so he didn’t have to twist his arm that much. It still looked like he was halfway dislocating his shoulder as he did it, but he didn’t seem to mind. His eyelids fluttered over his soft, chocolate-brown irises as the pads of his fingers finally dipped into the wet heat of your soaked cunt.

“You always this wet?” he asked, his voice ragged as his forearm pressed against the arm of the couch to keep himself aloft. His fingers sought out your clit immediately, rubbing slow circles around it that made you see stars.

You blushed, embarrassment curling around your ribs. “No, not really,” you said, sheepish at how flustered Eddie had gotten you. He just smirked, watching your face as he experimented with pressures and speeds. Finally, he must have gotten a reaction he liked, one of your wines eliciting a wicked smile from him as he repeated the motion.

“C’mon, let’s get these off,” Eddie said, pulling away from you. You whined at the sudden lack of contact, your brows furrowing in frustration as he grabbed the waistband of your jeans and panties and started to pull both off of you. You lifted your hips and then curled your legs toward your stomach so he could discard your clothes carelessly.

You moaned loudly as his fingers messily traced up the seam of your cunt, finally able to touch you properly as your legs settled on either side of him. You could feel him smearing the sticky, clear wetness that has practically been pouring out of you, his thumb pressing against your clit with agonizingly soft pressure.

Eddie was good with his hands, unsurprising for someone who was well-practiced in guitar. You’d seen him play once in the guitar class you both had signed up for as an elective, watched the way his fingers expertly moved over the strings while you fumbled pathetically.

You weren’t really aware of Eddie slipping his heavy rings off, putting them on the coffee table with soft thumps. Even knowing how good he is with his hands, nothing prepared you for the way your mind turned upside down when he slid his middle and ring fingers inside of you.

“Oh,” you exhaled, his thumb still steadily rubbing over the swollen bump of your clit. You were so wound up, arousal forming a knot in the pit of your stomach. Your back curved to desperately grind your hips against his hand, any embarrassment forgotten as your eyes practically roll back in your head. Eddie’s fingers pressed into the squishy spot on the front wall of your pussy, his gaze focused on the way his fingers plunged inside of you.

“Doing great, princess,” he hummed as you grabbed at him to ground yourself. Your fingers twisted into the strap of his black tank top, stretching the fabric in your pleasure-filled haze. It was impossible to keep still, your hips humping against the movement of his hand as you tossed your head back against the cushioned armrest of the couch.

“Eddie…” you panted, starting to feel that familiar bliss of a climax coming. He’d gotten you there embarrassingly fast, your legs trembling around him as your chest heaves with each breath. He smiled, shushing you gently as his free hand caressed your cheek on its way to clasp around the back of your neck. The squelching noises filling the living room were ungodly, almost drowning out the sounds of the television altogether.

Eddie let out a soft chuckle. “It’s okay, just let it happen,” he said, his tone soft despite the undeniable rasp in his voice. It was like permission was all you needed to make the coil in your stomach snap with the harshness of a rubber band stretched too tight. You let out a soft sob as your cunt pulsed around his fingers, sucking at them greedily. You’d never cum so hard before in your life, your ears ringing as you squeezed your eyes shut. You were vaguely aware of the way you were chanting Eddie’s name like a broken record, your nails digging into his arm with no mercy.

Eddie slowed his fingers down, still working you through your orgasm until you were limp against the couch. You came back to reality with a sob, the sound thick and wet as overwhelmed tears form at the edges of your eyes. You felt weak as his fingers finally slow to a stop, your focus narrowing to just Eddie.

“That was so pretty,” he murmured, pulling his fingers from inside you. They were shiny, strings of your cum shining in the low light as he spread them. Eddie sucked them into his mouth with a grin, his eyes rolling back before he curled himself back over you to pull you into a needy kiss.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the tang of your own pussy distinct as Eddie smeared his wet fingers on your ribcage. His hard cock pressed against the back of your thigh, warm and pulsing through his pajama pants and boxers as he rutted it against your soft flesh.

“Wanna fuck you, princess,” Eddie said between kisses, almost sounding drunk with the way his voice dropped into a low rumble. He kissed the corner of your mouth before his lips fluttered up your soft jawline. He paused to suckle behind your ear, his plush lips making you whine pathetically again.

You realized you wanted to have sex with him. The way he said it made you clench around nothing, desperation rising in you again. “Eddie, I’m a virgin,” you mumbled, embarrassed and worried about his response.

He pulled back to look you in the eyes, seriousness and lust mixing in his expression as he looked down at you. His hips slowed, still pressing his erection against your thigh and slowly rocking. He bit his lip, one hand smoothing some hair off your face. “What do you want to do? Don’t want you to feel like you gotta do anything.”

The pressure lifted from your chest, the worry dissipating as quickly as it had arrived. “I want to,” you said, lifting your head to kiss him quickly. For some reason you felt comfortable with Eddie, that panic that you have had before with previous guys nonexistent.

His eyes widened as though he didn’t expect that response, a grin stretching across his face and making his eyes wrinkle at the corners. “Okay,” he breathed, unable to keep the excitement out of his tone. He lifted himself off of you in a stiff motion, palming at the front of his pants as he looked down at you. “You just stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared down the hall to his room, shutting the door behind him to hide it from your view. When he came back he had a silver foil in his hand, the other one pulling off his tank top and dropping it to the floor.

“Seems like you’re hiding something in your room,” you said, a soft joke to ease the tension as Eddie settled himself between your legs again. He was ripping the condom wrapper open when he cracked a smile, his gaze flicking back up to yours.

“I didn’t know such a beautiful girl would be over or I would’ve cleaned my room,” he said in explanation. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, discarding the wrapper on the table.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, biting your lower lip as you nodded.

Eddie accepted your confirmation, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself. You propped yourself up on your elbows as you looked at his cock, not sure if it was big or average sized–but there was no way it could be considered small. The tip was red and engorged as his dick curved up and slightly to the left from a thatch of curly brown hair. There were prominent veins on the underside of it, the ridges visible in the skin as he took himself in his fist to roll the condom on.

“Lay down,” he said as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit a few times, making you gasp. Even through the condom it was hot to the touch. Eddie’s eyes were dark as he looked at you, still rubbing his cock along your cunt. “If you want to stop, you just tell me, princess. Okay?”

You exhaled as the head of his cock caught at your entrance, making your pussy clench needily. “Uh huh, I’ll tell you, Eddie,” you agreed frantically.

The press of the crown of his cock into your dripping cunt coaxed a gasp out of you. It was a burning stretch despite how slow he was going, your hips wiggling to find a comfortable position. It didn’t hurt, but it was different, the sensation of fullness making you let out little huffs of air as he pushed into you. He kissed any part of you his mouth could reach, peppering his lips over your face and neck as he slotted himself inside you.

Eddie caged you to the couch, his hand stroking your hair and your neck and your waist. He just kept going and going, your back arching and your pussy fluttering around him as you adjusted to the new sensation. Your huffs turned into whines, your head spinning as you started to feel overwhelmed.

“Shh,” Eddie hummed into your ear, an attempt to soothe you. “Relax, you’re doing so good for me, princess. Deep breath.”

The breath you took in at his instruction was rough and ragged, rattling in your lungs. He snorted a soft chuckle in response.

He drove the rest of his cock into you in one smooth motion, punching all the air from your body with a soft yelp. Your hands found his shoulders, holding onto him has you hooked your legs around his waist. You felt full and vulnerable beneath him, your walls stretched tight around him as the two of you breathed together for a moment.

Eddie decided you were adjusted enough, pulling out and thrusting back in. Your hips lurched with nowhere to go, a quiet ah pulling itself from your throat.

He leaned forward to press his lips to yours as he slid rhythmically in and out of you, making you mewl pathetically against his mouth. Eddie was relentless, fucking you smoothly as he mashed his lips against yours. You could hardly think straight, clinging to him as he pressed you into the cushions of the couch.

The wet, squelching noises of your pussy were loud, your tight walls sucking at Eddie’s cock greedily each time he pulled back from you. His fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, keeping you where he wanted you as you took every inch of him inside of you. His teeth nipped softly at your jaw, making your head spin as you felt yourself slipping closer and closer to brainlessness.

“You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, you know that, princess?” Eddie groaned into your ear, his pace picking up. “She’s so fucking hot and tight around me, poor thing just needed my cock so bad.”

His voice makes you moan, the way he’s talking to you makes delight bubble in your chest. You got lost in the feeling of the head of his cock rubbing against the spongy spot on the inside of your pussy. Your brow was furrowed, lips pouting as it started to feel like you’d snap again.

Eddie lifted himself off of you, his gaze fixed on where his cock kept sinking into you over and over again. His hand smoothed over the hinge where your thigh met your hip, his thumb stretching out to swipe over your swollen clit. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as you clenched around him like a vise, a punched-out groan rumbling from his chest as his free hand dug into your waist to keep leverage.

You were trembling beneath him, your skin started to feel like it was stretched too tight over your body. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, his pace grinding a second orgasm out of you like it was his job.

You were almost delirious from being stuffed full of his cock, your legs trembling around him as your back arched off the cushions of the couch. Eddie kept his pace, his own resolve starting to crumble as his thrusts got increasingly sloppy. His hands both found your waist, his thrusts becoming quick and shallow as his long, curly hair fell in his face. His eyes fluttered shut as soft grunts and whimpers pulled from his throat.

Watching Eddie cum made your heart twist, the way he stopped thrusting to grind into you as he crumpled down to press his chest to yours is almost tender. Your legs wrapped around his waist, everywhere that your skin was pressed together was sticky with sweat. Eddie spilled into the condom, part of you wishing he hadn’t worn it at all so you could get the full sensation. The sound he made was breathless and sultry, his mouth open and head tucking into the curve of your neck as he kept his hips tightly pressed to yours.

Your eyes slipped closed, your hands curling into the damp curls at the nape of his neck as you both caught your breath. You pressed kisses to the shell of Eddie’s ear, a bit delighted that the night had turned out this way. The muscles of your thighs were starting to burn from being bent in an unfamiliar angle, but you weren’t about to protest.

After a few moments Eddie pulled out of you with a hiss, pressing a wet kiss to your forehead. There was a look of affection in his eyes as he regarded you with a goofy smile that matched your own. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked up at him.

“I think you should start coming over more often.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x virgin!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson x reader smut #Eddie Munson x Harrington!reader #eddie munson x female reader

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disneyprincemuke · 6 months

Text

bother figures * fem!driver

being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be

pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver

warnings: ugh annoying men

notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.

she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.

she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"

she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"

"what are you doing?"

"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"

"yes, actually. i like talking to you."

"i just wanted to talk to ciara."

"now you can talk to me."

"but i don't really feel like doing that."

"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."

"because she isn't an f1 driver."

"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."

"max."

"(y/n)."

"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."

"what's that got to do with anything?"

"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."

"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"

"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."

max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."

she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”

“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”

“i’m an oldest sister.”

“i’m an oldest brother.”

“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”

“that’s kinda crazy.”

“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”

“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”

“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”

“seb wouldn’t like that.”

“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”

“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”

“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”

“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”

“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”

“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”

“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”

“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”

carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”

"see? i told you."

"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"

she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"

"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."

she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"

"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."

she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"

she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.

"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."

"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."

"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"

"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."

"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"

"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."

"typical logan, really."

"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."

"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"

"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"

"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"

"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."

a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.

"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.

her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."

"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."

"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"

"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"

"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"

"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."

"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"

george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."

"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"

"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"

she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."

"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."

"that is also a supercar."

"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts

#alex albon x reader #max verstappen x reader #george russell x reader #lando norris x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

friday, i'm in love (eddie munson x reader)

summary: one of these days, you'll talk to the cute boy at your coffee shop. just... not today. (wc: 6.3k+)

order up! i've got one cup of sunshine for @munson-blurbs ♡

Today’s the day.

You take a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag as it digs into your shoulder.

Today’s the day.

You pull the door open for your local Starbucks, your preferred study date destination.

Today’s the day.

You smile at one of the other regulars, a kind and older gentleman named Jim. If you focus on Jim, your eyes won’t avert to him.

Today’s the day.

You already know he’s here. You delude yourself into believing you can specifically hear the scratch of his pencil on paper, that every click of a mouse or clack of a keyboard is coming from his laptop. Hell, maybe if you closed your eyes, you’d convince yourself the music humming over the shop’s speakers is actually the muffled tone warbling out of his headphones.

Today’s the day.

You order one of your normal drinks, one brimming with caffeine and drowning in enough sweet caramel drizzle to give you instantaneous cavities. It doesn’t matter – today’s meant to be a sweet day. The weather’s nice, nothing like it was last week when you’d been ordering a hot Earl Grey tea sweetened with honey each day, and you tell the young man taking your order that it’ll be iced.

He’s new. You have no doubt in your mind, because he wasn’t here last week, and one of the baristas you do recognize is hovering to the side as he rings you out.

You’re a creature of habit. All the baristas know you well, other regulars (see: Jim) even recognize you these days. You used to only come in once or twice a week, either to cram for tests or play a morbid game of catchup with all your homework, but something changed in the last two months.

He showed up in the last two months.

Today’s… not the day.

You turn with your overly sweet drink in hand only to be met with sore disappointment. You were right, he is here, already seated at his usual table.

And he’s joined by a girl and boy you’ve never seen before, but he surely has, by the way he’s all smiles and laughter focused directly at the pair.

You try to not let your stomach drop too low, to catch it before it hits the ground and gathers any unwanted attention your way. It’s fine, it’s okay, it’s good – today wasn’t the day, but maybe tomorrow will be. Maybe tomorrow can finally be the day you speak to the boy from the coffee shop who’s overrun your thoughts one day at a time, the boy you see every day like clockwork, the boy you’ve never exchanged a single word with.

“Dingus, you can’t just say that to a girl!” the girl seated in front of him, her back to you, yells as she smacks Dingus on the chest.

Your coffeeshop boy only cackles in delight, and you feel as if the sunshine that has broken through the cloud cover outside has wormed its way into your veins. His laugh is brilliant and warming as it echoes in your chest, and you try to remind your beating heart that it isn’t yours to keep. That doesn’t stop your arteries and veins from wrapping their way around the sound and thrumming to match its pace. It doesn’t stop your ribs from trying to hopelessly capture the sunshine. Maybe one day you’ll make him laugh like that, maybe one day you’ll find the nerve to strike a conversation with him.

Tomorrow has to be the day, since this sunny Monday hasn’t been.

—

Tuesday also isn’t the day.

You don’t even have a good excuse this time. He’s alone today, just as he usually is. His headphones are already in once you’ve arrived and you can hear tinny guitar solos blaring out of them from across the room. You almost convince yourself that that’s a good reason to approach him, to tap his shoulder and let him know how listening to music that loudly can permanently damage your eardrums, y’know?

But then you realized how prissy that made you sound. If you did that, you’re sure Chrissy, one of your favorite baristas here, would absolutely taunt you for days on end, probably making jabs about you being a grandma, going the full mile and offering you a senior discount just for shit and giggles.

So you stay seated. And you meet the peculiar look of Chrissy as she watches you and Eddie, the only two customers in the lobby this time of afternoon, as if she’s waiting for something to happen. Anything. The raise of her eyebrows serves as a painful prodding in your side as if to say “Well? What are you waiting for? Go on.”

You don’t go on. And that’s the issue – for the last two months, you have let the idea of some stranger completely occupy every thought you have to spare without even knowing his name. He was just always here; two months ago, your once quaint and nice study spot was infiltrated by wild curls and drumming fingers, plush pink lips that could make the older ladies that pass through absolutely swoon with a simple smirk and hello. You’d talked the ear off of all your friends for nearly an hour the day he’d worn grey sweatpants in rather than his normal ripped jeans. You’d caught yourself staring intently at the various rings that decorate his left hand on more than one occasion, trying to make out what the various symbols of silver were.

“This is getting painful to watch.”

You hadn’t even noticed Chrissy round the counter and head over to your table with a cloth in hand until she was looking down at you with a soft, childish pout and her big blue eyes framed with furrowed brows.

“What?” you question, putting down the pen you’d been clicking on and off for the last ten minutes, making no move to properly revise and submit the essay lighting up the screen of your laptop.

Chrissy keeps her voice low, moving to lean down closer to you under the guise of wiping the table beside yours, “The two of you. It’s painful, babe. One of you has to stop making eyes and make the first real move eventually.”

Real. A word you had cursed over a glass of wine with your roommate last night.

She’d pointed out the way you only liked the idea of your coffee shop boy thus far, how you had yet to introduce yourself to the real him. Which, she was right, of course. It was easiest this way; from a distance, he can be anything you want. He could be your easy Sunday mornings, sleepy smiles over toast and coffee made at home. He could be your tired Thursday evenings, coming straight home from whatever class or shift had wreaked havoc on your mind and right into his arms, popcorn and a movie already waiting for you to decompress over as you told him about your day. He could be a source of comfort on cold nights, a breath of fresh air on warmer mornings. He could be anything, as long as he continued to be just your coffee shop boy. A fruitless crush you’d always observe from across a bustling lobby. Keeping him at an arm’s length kept both of you safe: from disappointment, from complications, from reality.

“Just because we both come in everyday to use your free wifi and drink your mediocre coffee, doesn’t mean you get to play match-maker when you’re bored,” you try to keep a straight face as you say this, forcing a look of disinterest as Chrissy stares you down.

Normally, this would be the part where you’d snap at Chrissy that if she was so piqued in her interest with your coffeeshop boy, she could ask him out herself. But he wasn’t Chrissy’s type – the round enamel pin on her apron with a faded, baby pink background, multiple cats stacked on top of one another in different shades of pink, orange, and white, told you as much. The heart eyes she’d made at the girl that had been here with him the day before confirmed it.

“Don’t be so pissy,” Chrissy teases, “Or I’ll revoke wifi privileges.”

“You don’t scare me, Chris.”

“I should.”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” you scoff, a bit louder than before, and don’t even notice your boy subtly taking one of his earbuds out, fighting to keep his eyes down to the page he’s scribbling on rather than glancing up at your interaction, “And I use bark sparingly, considering your bubblegum pink aesthetic doesn’t exactly scream scary dog.”

Chrissy grins wider at your words – you’ve never backed down from being brazen with your humor against her. You don’t treat her grossly delicate or thickly lay on fake niceties. You’re genuine. It’s probably a contributing factor to you being her favorite regular.

He snorts, and you just barely catch the echo of the sound, making both you and Chrissy glance in his direction.

His eyes are glued on his notebook as a blush begins to spread up his neck. You can’t help the shy smile that urges the corners of your mouth upwards.

Talk to him, Chrissy mouths obnoxiously as she grabs her rag, taking slow and exaggerated steps backwards before she spins, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she speed-walks back behind the counter.

One day, you’ll talk to him. Soon.

—

Soon comes too soon. Far too soon and far too embarrassing of circumstances.

One moment, your eyes are glued to the statistics textbook in front of you, laptop set off to the side with your headphones connected in and a study playlist queued up on Spotify. The next, someone’s frappucino is spilling across the pages of numbers and percentages, making you gasp and jump back to no avail. The damage is done – your book is ruined, the front of your shirt is soaked, and all of your handwritten notes are now soggy and unreadable.

“Oh, shit!” the poor kid who had been the culprit stands before you, stunned and red with embarrassment as his friends quiet their cackling from behind him. It’s clear the group had been rough-housing, and that’s what led to this accident.

You zero in on a melting glob of whipped cream that settles into the open spine of the textbook, mouth falling agape as tears fill your eyes immediately.

Shit. No. No, no, no. This was a rental.

None of the younger boys are the one to make a move to help you. The baristas don’t stand a chance, delayed in even noticing the commotion. You’re a statue of bleary vision and panicking breaths as you realize the sticky mess is everywhere, including your laptop.

Your coffeeshop boy notices immediately. He’d noticed the moment the young boy had lost his balance beside you, was already scooting out his chair and jumping up before the blended coffee had even made contact with your table.

You come to your senses right around the time he’s at your side, a fistful of napkins, uselessly attempting to save your textbook that was already clearly ruined.

“Ah, fuck,” he whispers as he uses up all the napkins he’d managed to snag, looking up wildly at you, eyes zeroing in on the mess on the front of your shirt. You can’t even relish in the fact that this is the first time you’ve heard his voice so closely; you’re mortified and trembling, still unsure of whether you’re more angry about your textbook, your laptop, or your shirt, “Hey, you okay?”

Tears. There’s tears streaming down your face, hot with embarrassment and anger and defeat. You think the kid whose drink is now in your lap has been apologizing, but you pay him no mind.

“Go get cleaned up,” the coffeeshop boy immediately moves out of the way, motioning you out of your seat, towards the bathrooms, “I’ll watch your stuff, try to clean it up some, too.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re up in an instant, ignoring the stares of the baristas and the other boys, racing to the back corner of the shop where the two single-person bathrooms reside. You rush into one blindly, trying to calm your erratic heart and the impending panic attack.

It takes you twelve minutes to do so. Three splashes of cool water to the face, two pep talks about how it “wasn’t that bad”, and another whole minute of blankly staring into the mirror at the baby-hairs that frame your face that are now wet and plastered to your cheeks and forehead alike, just wondering where you’ll come up with the money for your damaged textbook.

And laptop. It also got on your laptop, son of a bitch.

You also have to come to terms with the fact that you’d burst into silent tears in the middle of your favorite coffee shop. In front of your coffee shop fantasy crush. You may never recover from that embarrassment, if you’re being honest with yourself.

A small knock comes from the door of the bathroom, forcing you to sigh deeply before gathering up all your composure and broken pride.

“Yeah?” you ask through the crack, hardly opening the door.

It’s Chrissy, standing wide-eyed and hopelessly holding two pieces of clothing in her hand, “Okay, so uh, we don’t have any spare shirts here. But… But I have a spare apron? And a spare jacket? I’m sorry, these are awful options.”

“I…” I’d rather die than wear that apron, or ruin someone’s jacket. “It’s fine, Chris. I’ll probably get going anyways.”

“But your shirt is all-” she pauses, and you could burst into tears all over again at the way she scrunches her nose so adorably, “-sticky.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“It’ll get all over your car.”

“It’s already all over my stuff. Might as well go big or go home.”

“I owe you a free coffee now, you know that?” Chrissy’s shoulders finally deflate in defeat, accepting your stubbornness as the winning contender, “Next time you come in, probably tomorrow. Whatever you want. It’s on the house, I sw-”

“Damn, now I wish some twerp spilled their mocha cookie whatever all over me,” it’s him – your coffee shop boy. A boy who came to your rescue, a boy who lives in all your bedtime fantasies, and a boy whose name you still don’t know. Chrissy turns and the two of you both look at him, you opening the bathroom door wider despite your embarrassment. He immediately throws up a hand in surrender, “Sorry, I’m, uh- shit, I’m interrupting. But I just… Uh, well. Okay, this is weird. Really weird. You can ban me if this is too weird,” he turns to Chrissy with wide brown eyes, making her immediately cross her arms across her chest defensively, “Seriously, okay? Say the word, I’ll accept my banishment. I just-”

“What’s behind your back?” Chrissy narrows her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed the boy hiding something, too busy being enamored by his stumbling words and adorable blush. Fuck. You hated it; you hated the fact that everyone was right, and the real him was even more adorable than you could have anticipated.

He brings his arm out from behind him, and when you see what’s in his clutches, you nearly scream in frustration.

He’s not just more adorable than the fantasized versions of him you’ve created – he’s more thoughtful, too. It spells out trouble for you and your restless, irrevocably romantic heart.

“I keep spare shirts in my van,” he explains sheepishly, “I swear it’s clean. It’s for- well, I… It’s for ‘just in case’ situations. Sort of like this one, I guess.”

Chrissy is quick to take it from him, passing it along to you as she keeps staring him down, “How convenient.”

“Very,” he nearly cowers under her stare, swallowing hard before turning to you, “You don’t have to give it back or anything. You can even burn it, for all I care. It’s just some shirt for… for, uh, some shitty band.”

You don’t think too much about the comment, just shut the door and leave Chris alone with the coffeeshop boy, silently praying she doesn’t tear into him unnecessarily after the act of kindness. You change shirts, dabbing at your chest with wet paper towels between peeling off your coffee-stained blouse and switching it for your coffeeshop boy’s shirt.

Corroded Coffin. It’s not a band you recognize, as you read out the jagged writing of the logo across the front of the black t-shirt. The white font pops and you’re already trying to think of an easy segue into maybe discussing whoever this ‘shitty band’ is with coffeeshop boy rather than the mortifying disaster you’d just endured from a group of young teenage boys who knew no better.

But when you leave the bathroom, that group of scoundrels is gone, along with coffeeshop boy. Chrissy wears an apologetic look over the shoulder of a customer she’s taking the order of at the front counter. It does nothing to wear on the sinking feeling of disappointment in your gut, that deflation at realizing he didn’t wait around for you. The customer pays and leaves the counter, and Chrissy almost looks to be expecting you to stop and say something, but you don’t.

You don’t say a single word. Only rush and gather your things off the table, which are surprisingly clean. Coffeeshop boy did a good job.

Too bad you don’t have the chance to tell him.

Reality, you decide, has something in common with the coffee; it’s always going to end with a bitter bite, no matter how much sweetness you suffocate it with.

—

You don’t return for several days after Wednesday’s incident. Thursday turns to Friday, Friday bleeds into Saturday, and by the time Sunday rears its ugly head, you’re still wallowing in self-pity. Embarrassment has a way of sinking deep into your bones, and no amount of curling up in the center of your bed will make it fade. You try to sit up at your desk and finish some of the revisions you’d been working on that awful day before wearing some kid’s frappucino, but you can’t focus. The pages of your rental textbook are still sticky, your S and K keys now only work half the time, and you can’t find the right study playlist. The atmosphere is wrong, the vibe is wrong, everything is just wrong.

At least you hadn’t resorted to wearing Coffeshop Boy’s shirt. You’d thought about it, of course, but you hadn’t hit that low of a point. Not yet, at least.

Your roommate can’t take it. She insists you get out of the house, simply because your moping is “too fucking sad” to witness. To which you obviously had to retort, “how do you think I feel?”.

So now you’ve been standing outside of your usual Starbucks for five minutes. Squinting like a weirdo through the large, front windows, trying to make out if he was there. Or maybe the ‘twerp’ who had spilled the frappucino. You weren’t looking for a fight – you just needed to avoid every individual who had witnessed the most embarrassing day of your life to date.

“He’s not here,” a voice suddenly says from behind you. You jump a fraction before spinning and catching sight of one of those damn witnesses: Chrissy, “He never comes in on Sundays. You don’t, either, by the way. What gives?”

“I’ve come in on Sundays before,” you deflect.

Chrissy laughs, shaking her head, brushing past you with her green apron rolled up into one of her fists, “No, you haven’t. So I’ll ask again,” she pauses, opening one of the front doors and motioning for you to enter first, “What gives?”

Your feet drag as you walk past her, the lobby eerily quiet. At the very least, she’s right – there’s no sign of your coffeeshop boy. Just some old dude with a newspaper in your usual corner, and a girl with a laptop, seemingly in some sort of video meeting, in coffeeshop boy’s usual spot.

“No hidden romance there, unfortunately,” Chrissy notices your staring and waves between the patrons. Neither so much as look up, “You and Eddie are our store’s only modern Romeo and Juliet.”

“Who?”

“Eddie,” she repeats, watching the realization spread across your face. A smirk appears on her glossy lips as she clarifies anyways, “Your knight-in-shining-armor. The boy you’ve been making heart eyes at for weeks. The dude of your dreams-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut her off, cheeks already warming as you glance again to the girl and the old man. Still no reaction. Your mortification today, it seems, has no audience.

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

The name thrums through your chest, excitement and a twinge of guilt racing through your veins.

Your coffeeshop boy’s name is Eddie.

“I never knew his name,” you whisper quietly, catching yourself staring in the occupied seat that is usually his. “I… Have you known it this entire time?”

Chrissy shakes her head, “No, I asked him Thursday. You know, the first day of your disappearance.”

You can’t even process her slight jab at you, or the way she tilts her chin as she waits for a reaction. You’re too busy thinking about Eddie. Eddie, who doesn’t come here on Sundays. Eddie, who keeps spare t-shirts in his van– Eddie, who drives a goddamn van.

He’s suddenly tangible. It’s dizzying.

“He asked about you, y’know,” Chrissy’s voice is low and you finally glance back to her, “On Thursday. And Friday. He asked about you.”

Eddie, who you’ve been waiting for the day to introduce yourself to. Eddie, who asked about you.

“What’d he ask? Specifically?” you question, taking a deep breath and trying to clear your thoughts.

“If you’d been in, if I’d seen you. He even asked for your name.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Nope,” she grins, blue eyes sparkling, “I figured I’d give you the honor.”

It’s on Sunday that you decide the next day you see coffeshop boy, that you see Eddie, it will be the day. It’s only fair that he knows your name now that you know his, after all.

—

Monday isn’t the day, and neither is Tuesday. You show up to the Starbucks, you take your usual spot, you spend hours studying – Eddie never shows up. Wednesday and Thursday aren’t the days either, filled with finals and celebratory dinners at twenty-four hour diners with friends.

By Friday, you’re missing your coffeeshop romance terribly.

But Friday, as it turns out, isn’t quite as unlucky as the rest of the week. You wake up that morning, and you can feel it in your bones; today’s the day. You’ll see Eddie today. You’ll introduce yourself to Eddie today, without a Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappucino soaking your shirt. It’s an acknowledge truth in your bones, maybe even in the stars. Everything is aligning, and you were going to stop spending your days with your head in the clouds. Maybe it would fizz out, and the crush that had kept you on the edge of your seat, that had kept you mildly entertained for months would lead to nothing. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a beginning. A leap of faith into reality that could turn into something real.

When you first show up, you don’t see him. It’s during the tail-end of the morning rush that you make your way in, ordering your usual iced coffee and taking your usual seat with the perfect view of Eddie’s usual seat. Customers filter in and out, a line occasionally forming before the baristas take care of it quickly, but not a single person is the one you’re looking for.

You distract yourself. You busy yourself with pulling out your laptop, glancing over whichever grades have been finalized, pondering over the ones that have yet to be set in stone. Once you’ve beat that horse to death and have nothing left but scholarly anxiety bubbling up, you’ve moved on to making a spreadsheet of all the books you want to read during the summer, with all the free hours you definitely weren’t going to waste, and would totally make use of. You even color code by genre.

You think you have more fun making the spreadsheet than you will enjoy the actual reading over the novels you listed.

Just as you’ve finished your iced coffee, ready to move onto looking at goddamn Yahoo news to entertain yourself, a cup is sat down in front of you. A hot grande cup.

You read the sticker turned towards you before you even spare a glance to the person who’d sat down the drink: a grande Earl Grey tea, sweetened with one packet of honey.

“Chrissy, I only get this when it’s rain-” you start, assuming the barista would be the one standing over your table. It isn’t. It’s coffeeshop boy – it’s Eddie. You can’t help the curse that falls from your lips, “Oh, shit.”

“Sorry,” he bites his lip as if holding back a life, hands nervously shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as he rocks on his heels, “I just… I honestly don’t know what you usually get. But your cup was empty when I walked in, and the one time I got here before you, this was the drink you got, but now that I think about it, it was raining that day and that didn’t even cross my mind-”

Your smile is slow as it uncurls, so saccharine and so enamored as you finally cut off his rambling, “Thank you.”

He doesn’t look reassured in the slightest, paling as he stutters out, “Oh, God. I- I’m a creep for remembering that, aren’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice because I know Thursday was so rough-” he cuts off at your subtle wince at the reminder of that entire tragedy, “Sorry. God, how many times can I say sorry, am I right?”

Eddie, who is absolutely fumbling over rambles like a fool when he approaches you to talk to you first. Eddie, who is quickly shaping up to be better than even your wildest dreams.

“First of all,” you start, nervously making eye contact, trying to calm your nerves by reminding yourself he’s an even bigger mess than you right now, “You’re not a creep for remembering that. That’s… it’s really thoughtful, actually,” he breaks out into a restrained smile, the smallest glimpse of relief on his face, so you continue, “And second of all… I mean, who knows? Maybe it’ll rain and you saved me some trouble.”

He lets out a bark of laughter at that, and immediately, all frozen awkwardness around the moment shatters. Whatever pedestal you’d set the boy on the last several weeks has crumbled with ease. Reality comes crashing down, and you relish in it.

You relish in the golden streaks through his messy curls, and you drown in the richness of his brown eyes, entrancing this close up. You relish in that dimple in his right cheek, deep enough to swallow you whole as he recollects himself. You relish in the fact that he’s here, it’s Friday, and today is the day.

“There is absolutely rain on the forecast, and you should absolutely just take my word for that and not fact check me,” he jokingly replies, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“I know,” you blurt out with thinking, and immediately regret it. You can’t tell if the shock on his face is laced with amusement or not and you panic, desperate to defend yourself, “I- Chrissy told me, I swear. I’m sorry, that was weird, I just-”

He’s the one interrupting apologies now, “It’s okay. Can’t be weirder than knowing a stranger’s rainy day coffee order.”

Grinning. God, you can’t stop grinning, even as you breathe out your name.

“Sorry?” he asks with furrowed brows, hardly catching on to the whispered reveal.

“That’s my name,” you explain before repeating yourself. His cheeks undoubtedly ache the same way yours do, “Now I’m not a stranger. Makes it less weird.”

His smile is downright radiant, and oh, God what you’d given to hear him murmur your name under his breath again in that odd, peculiar manner he just did. As if he’s trying it out, tasting it on his tongue and deciding if it’s worth repeating.

His eyes shine; you have a feeling you will be hearing it again.

“Say, is this seat taken?”

You assume he’s meaning the chair across from you, tucked neatly into the table covered in your belongings, and you immediately shake your head to tell him it’s not, motioning for him to join you.

He wasn’t meaning the chair. He flops himself down beside you on the bench seating, settling into the plastic plush as his thighs brush against yours.

“So,” he starts, propping his elbow up on the table beside your laptop, resting his chin on his fist,“Tell me about yourself, not-stranger.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he answers, making your heart clench, “But maybe, let’s just start with your coffee order for days that aren’t rainy.”

Hours. You and Eddie spend hours talking. The baristas behind the counter rotate, the sun eventually sets, and you don’t even notice when clouds form and light spatters of rain spit out onto the sidewalk outside. You dive headfirst into reality with Eddie, and it’s like the first breath of Spring.

He wakes you up in a way no shot of espresso ever could. It’s as if something deep inside of you had been sleeping for so long, you’d forgotten it existed until he magically awoke it. Something shining, something wonderful, something new. Something real.

Everyone was right. The tangible Eddie is infinitely better than the idea of coffeeshop boy.

“You know,” you’ve drained your earl grey, laptop long since closed as your body mirrors Eddie’s and twists until your kneecaps press against each other. His arm rests casually along the back of the seat just over your right shoulder, “I’m still curious who Corroded Coffin is. I know you said they’re shitty, but-”

“Oh, God,” Eddie throws his head back in laughter, running his free hand over his face, “So, uh, funny story.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Funny story?”

“Yes. Hilarious, actually,” he affirms, “Corroded Coffin is… uh, well… Corroded Coffin is my band.”

You can’t stop the snort, realization dawning on you. That’s why Eddie had the spare shirt in his van – it’s his own damn merch.

“I’m going to pretend you’re laughing with me, not at me,” he hums, leaning back and watching your giggles continue to hit you in waves.

“I am-” you start to reassure, broken off by another gasping laugh that even has him chuckling along, “I am, I swear! I just… Why would you tell me you guys are shitty?”

“A bad joke,” he hums, waving his free hand, chuckles still lingering at the edge of his tone, “I tend to tell a lot of those around pretty people.”

Pretty people. He thinks you’re pretty.

“Yeah?” you choke out, laughter abruptly fading as the realization hits you.

He thinks you’re pretty.

“Yeah.”

Oh, God. He thinks you’re pretty. He’s in a band. He remembered the drink you got on a rainy day ages ago (him forgetting the rainy detail can be forgiven because he remembered without even knowing your name). He smells like spice, like everything kind and gentle and warm. It mixes so well with the smell of the coffee already in the air, you wouldn’t have noticed it was his cologne unless you hadn’t spent a better part of the hour leaning in closer and closer to him, the scent getting stronger and stronger.

Maybe reality can be sweet. Maybe it’s not always bitter.

“You know, we have a show coming up,” he continues on, tilting his head at you curiously, “Tomorrow night, actually.”

“You do?” you ask dumbly, not catching on, not yet.

He nods, the corners of his lips curling up, “Yeah. It’s at this venue not far from here, a small bar. It’s not much but it’s an upgrade from where we started…” he trails off, eyes diverting to the wall behind you and across the store, “Uh, you obviously don’t have to… but, I mean, if you’re not busy, I could always add your name to the guest list. It’s no pressure, obviously! I mean, you don’t have to go, it’s just an id-”

“I’d love to,” you stop him with a hand on his knee, grounding him from the returning rambling, “Tell me when and where tomorrow night, and I’ll be there.”

Your heart might just burst.

“Right,” he seems to still entirely beneath your touch, eyes darting down to where your hand rests, “Yeah. I can write it down for you-”

“Or I could give you my number.”

“Or you could give me your number.”

You’re both grinning, blushing fools. He takes a second, just staring at you, seemingly in awe, before you have to remove your hand from his knee and put your palm up as a signal for him to hand over his phone.

He nearly drops it in his flurry to get it into your waiting hand, bouncing his knee the entire time it takes you to put in your contact information. You make a point to add a coffee cup emoji after your name.

“Hey, guys,” the two of you are suddenly interrupted just as you’re giving his phone back. It’s the barista from last Monday – the new one, the one who’d taken your order when you’d been convinced that would be the day you were going to speak to Eddie. Funny how clueless you had been at the time, “Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you guys know that we close in about ten minutes.”

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie gasps, sitting up straight as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, “Sorry, man. We’re heading out.”

The new guy’s eyes light up ever so slightly, shrugging off the apology and just nodding with a polite smile.

You wonder if you’ll even get the chance to break the news to Chrissy. Something tells you she’ll be finding out before you see her again.

The boy retreats, and you’re quick to grab your laptop and move to shove it into your bag. Eddie stands and waits, unbothered and encouraging you to take your time before you swing the heavy bag over your shoulder.

Eddie, the boy who’s show you’ll be going to. Eddie, the boy who now has your number.

You don’t think you’ll ever get sick of his name echoing through your mind.

“Thank you again,by the way,” you say as you pick up that empty grande cup, turning for the trash, “The tea was good, even though-”

It’s raining. It’s steadily sprinkling outside, trees shifting with a gentle and stormy breeze. You can tell easily, even with the darkness of the evening having fallen. There’s rogue raindrops racing their ways down the window in front of you. Your reflection stares back faintly, and over your shoulder, you can see Eddie smile shyly.

“It’s raining,” you murmur.

“I told you,” Eddie says softly, “It was on the forecast. Also, I might have noticed the clouds building up on the drive over.”

You turn to face him slowly, heart thumping against your ribs, “Did you… You knew it was my rainy day drink, didn’t you?”

He blinks once, twice, before swallowing hard and nodding, “I did.”

“How?”

“I mean, I wasn’t lying. I did hear them call it out that one time. Also, you always have a hot drink especially when it’s raining.”

He looks like he might pass out from embarrassment, but you just let a grin overtake your features, “Oh?”

“Like I said, it’s creepy. Do I need to apologize again? I can apologize again.”

Oh, your grin grows.

“What else did you notice?”

“Excuse me?”

You shrug, “What else did you notice about me? For example, I’ve always noticed your rings. Also, you listen to your music far too loudly. You’re gonna go deaf one of these days, you know.”

He melts, color returning back to his features as he realizes you’re not upset or creeped out, “You noticed me before the other day?”

“I did,” you try to downplay it, keep an even tone as your heart screams, “And it sounds like you noticed me too.”

A boyish grin and two steps forward, he’s approaching you and evading your space with that warm smell of spice once more.

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, ears and bridge of his nose alike tinged in a spackling of pink, “I noticed the faces you made whenever you’d work on math homework. And the way you’d cringe every time I turned up my music. And the way Chrissy never stopped teasing you, the same way she’d tease me on the days you weren’t here.”

“Wow,” you sigh, looking back down at that empty cup. That goddamn empty cup that just revealed to you that he thought of you just as you’d thought of him, “We’re idiots.”

That feeling that still rings in your bones. No longer just the feeling that today is the day, but that there’s more good things to come. There are lazy Sunday mornings to be had, relaxing Thursday nights to enjoy. There are tangible things to have and to hold in your future, materializing right out of nonsensical ideas you’d clung to just days before.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs in agreement as you toss the cup into the trash, “Yeah, we’re fuckin’ idiots. Don’t tell Chrissy, capiche?”

Today was the day. Today was just the beginning.

“Capiche.”

It’s not until a month later, when you and Eddie come in together on one of your slow Sunday mornings, that Chrissy gets her I told you so moment. After the shock of seeing her two favorite customers on a Sunday, of course.

#3k celebration #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #see? i still write!#proof i'm literate

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princeoftheeternalbog · 8 months

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OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away (here's part 2) established relationship ish. Feel free to ask for other characters.

ALSO I've definitely seen another creator who did this idea with op characters but I can't remember who so if someone could tell me I would really love to credit them :(. I tried to make mine different but still it's the principal of it.

Slightly suggestive in some parts so mdni.

Luffy

Thinks its a new game like tag but with kisses and it ends up actually becoming one. You'll both wait for the other to become distracted and then you'll strike, planting a kiss and sprinting off around the ship or the island you're docked at. It's not hard to chase after each other because the trails of laughter are so easy to follow and it always ends up with one of you on the floor from a tackle or something similar.

Zoro

Gobsmacked. Genuinely his jaw drops especially if there's other people there and you get away so easily only because of how long it takes his brain to boot back online. Oh but he doesn't let it go. He waits until you're in a similar situation, either talking to someone or doing work and he sneaks up to pull you into a deep, intense kiss that leaves your knees weak. Like he fully puts the moves on you, hand on your lower back, other hand cradling your jaw, hes literally licking into your mouth and then he just disappears for the rest of the day. Asshole.

Sanji

You are not running away from this man. Not in a scary way but he can't do just one short kiss, as soon as you're leaning in his hands settle firm on your hips and that grip is not something you can wiggle out of. You can try to run away but he just laughs at you and pulls you closer to him, ofc he would let go if you actually wanted him to but he knows what you're trying to pull. Says something like "Oh? Trying to run darlin? How sweet." swoon- Just don't even bother, he will always try to win if your affection is involved.

Nami

Honestly thinks nothing of it. A lot of your affection is sweet but quick because yk pirate life. But if you look disappointed from her lack of reaction then she catches on quickly and starts playing along. So sweet even though she can be scary. Oh but don't try to run if she's initiating, like Sanji you aren't going to get out of her grip. If she wants to shower you with affection, she is going to thank you very much. If you do manage to slip away she's surprisingly quick and surprisingly stealthy. Like you'll think you got away and you walk into a room and she drops down from the ceiling like fucking batman.

(maybe not that dramatic but shes good)

Robin

She lets you run away but only because she knows she could summon a mouth to kiss you at any time and in any place so she's content knowing she always wins. Also thinks it's really cute when you try to rile her up like this, she just finds it so endearing and usually ends up playing into it anyways- "My, my, aren't you getting so bold my love". Sometimes will purposefully trip you up while you're doing these antics so you can't get away or so your plan is ruined, absolutely pretends she has no idea what you're talking about.

Usopp

Highly likely he was doing something when it happened. Highly likely he dropped something onto his foot as a result. Yowls like an injured cat and then when his brain catches up it's like steam comes out of his ears. Stands there with his mouth open and pointing at you like you betrayed his entire family. Very funny and very cute. Also a possibility of him smacking you out of fearful instinct in which case he'd probably cry his eyes out and beg for forgiveness. Nami makes it worse by punching him in the face for hitting you. A mess all around if you get him at the wrong time so just be careful.

Ace

Immediately sprinting after you, it's actually a bit scary. But like hey he's not letting you get away with just one measly little peck on the cheek. Absolutely nobody on the crew helps you unless it would be funny, i.e. someone tripping Ace up so he faceplants. If it's near the beginning of your relationship then you likely go back out of concern which he takes as a chance to catch you, but if it's later then you already know this man's antics and you know he wouldn't be injured just from tripping so you use it as an opportunity to get away💪. You still have to kiss it better later though when hes whining to you about how cruel you are for leaving him in the dust(he would do the same).

Izou

Don't bother. As soon as you turn he snatches you by the back of your collar and pulls you onto his lap, proceeds to resume his conversation like nothing is wrong but his arms are firm around your waist and his cheeks and ears are a particularly pretty shade of red. Once his conversation is over and the other person has left, he turns his attention to you with a very pointed look. He's not actually irritated but if he enjoys watching you squirm that's his business. "If you wanted a kiss you should've just asked my love" and then he's practically devouring your mouth. Doesn't care about the other people in the vicinity. Doesn't care that he's smudging his lipstick. Just wants to fluster you more than you flustered him.

Marco

Do you even want to run away from this man lets be real- anyways.

If he's doing work then he just laughs and lets you get away with it, tallys it in his head for later, but if he's free and hes in a good mood then he absolutely plays into it. Will chase after you. Will cheat by using his powers. Its a bit scary but also very attractive, somehow ends with him pinning you in some way (☺️), looks very smug when he wins. Like you'll end up flat on your back, legs trapped under his and his hands restraining yours and he's just grinning- "Oh what a surprise. You were so easy to catch-yoi" Yeah yeah shut up. Absolutely asks what his reward is just to see your shocked face (absolutely asks again later when you two are alone).

Sabo

VILLAIN!!!!!! Sorry only way i can describe how devious and obsessed this man would be. Like Izou he tries to snatch you immediately but you planned for this so you manage to spring out of his grip in time. You falter a bit at his reaction then because he just blinks at you for a while. You start to feel a bit nervous and when he finally grins at you, you definitely feel nervous. "Playing like that are we honey? How about I give you a headstart then?" Evil. You know he's going to catch you. He knows he's going to catch you. He's just giving you false hope but yk hope is hope so you take the chance.

You don't get far. It's not even fair how quickly he catches up to you and gets you underneath him, it takes him barely any effort, not even a strand of hair is out of place. Spends the next 10 minutes kissing you on the floor of the hallway until Koala comes back and promptly drags him back into his office.

#one piece x reader #marco the phoenix x reader #portagas d. ace x reader #x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #nami x reader #nico robin x reader #ussop x reader #izou x reader #sabo x reader #op headcanons #one piece x gn reader #gn reader #usopp x reader #one piece fics #monster trio x reader

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jaylver · 1 year

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WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS

SYNOPSIS: who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.

PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!heeseung x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance

WARNING(S): profanities, violence (fight), suggestive content (no smut), heeseung is a retired fuckboy turned good + y/n is a party goer, drinking, partying, jake being a footballer aka a soccer player ( NOT american football )

WC: 14k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaa it's finally here ! hope y'all enjoyed it and PLEASE let me know how it was, give me some feedbacks and thoughts, it's been A LONGG WHILE since i've been writing so i'm worried i'll be crusty. anyway, enjoy !

part 1 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

“I'M SO NOT HAVING FUN ANYMORE,”

Friday nights were always preoccupied by hockey and hockey only. It has never changed ever since Yunjin, your best friend, gave you an introduction to the school’s ice hockey team. Being the massive sports fan you were, you obviously got hooked on watching their games live. But there were downsides to being a fan which includes witnessing the team losing.

You swore you were already in a foul mood that day, courtesy to your professor and shitty customers, you found yourself seeking solace in the hockey game, which turned sour almost instantly. Just your luck for the day, huh?

“It’s just the first period, Y/N,” Yunjin sighed, glancing up at the jumbotron, wincing a little at the scoreline. They were currently 3 goals down and Yunjin's reassurance didn't help at all.

“I suppose so,” you replied glumly.

The second period rolled by in a flash, but there wasn’t much of a positive outcome either. The team managed to score two goals, but the opponents out performed them and scored one more goal, continuing their lead.

You groaned loudly, along with many other disappointed students. 15 minutes of intermission ended rather quickly, bringing everyone back to reality.

“Oh come on, score already!” you shouted out in irritation, stirring other students to yell out in agreement as well.

The game was going slow and your patience was eventually growing thin. The clock was ticking, meaning the game was about to end soon with the team losing tragically. You shook your head in defeat, wrapping an arm around Yunjin’s shoulder and placing the other on your hip.

“For fuck’s sake, score already, idiots!” you yelled out.

Just when you did so, someone skated by, his head turned to look at you, meeting your eyes for only a brief second before disappearing into a sea of hockey players. You blinked. Did that just happen? You whipped your head to find Yunjin staring back at you, as if asking the same question.

“Did–”

“That–”

The two of you paused.

“Yeah,” you both said in unison, returning your attention back to the game.

As expected, the game unfortunately ended with a defeat for the home team. You and Yunjin decided to leave the arena immediately since it was already getting late, but you two also made sure to have a quick stop at the cafeteria to get some pizza before continuing the journey back to the dorms.

“I heard someone’s throwing a party soon,” Yunjin said through a mouth full of pepperoni pizza.

“Who is that ‘someone’?” you wiped your hand clean of pizza grease, then threw yourself on Yunjin’s bed, causing her to let out a grunt.

“That made me choke and I would’ve died. I don’t want my cause of death to be something related to pizza,” she grumbled, closing the pizza lid and taking the napkin you handed her.

“I thought you loved pizza?” you blinked innocently, flashing her your best smile and she threw you a dirty look.

“Think we got a little side tracked,” Yunjin mumbled thoughtfully. “If I’m not wrong, it was by one of those football chads? Was it Jake?”

“Jake might play football but he’s so not a chad,” you argued, unknowingly defending said boy.

Jake sim was, in fact, another popular athlete in your school who unsurprisingly turned out to be another playboy. You remembered the small heartbreak you had when you discovered his true identity, secretly wishing he was like any other non-fuckboy guy in the campus. But life’s unfair sometimes and somehow, that didn’t stop you from being acquainted with that golden retriever-like boy.

“You’re only saying that because he gives you free booze and free passes to football games,” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you and you feigned ignorance. “Anyway, I think it’s that Yeonjun guy who’s throwing that party. He’s that rich kid, remember?”

“Yeah, I do. I saw him multiple times at games,”

“Didn’t he flirt with you?”

“Correction, he tried. Luckily Jake was there to stop him or else I would’ve given him a black eye,” you frowned.

“Would’ve loved to see that happen,” Yunjin shrugged while you narrowed your eyes at her.

“You’re praying on my downfall,”

“Never. Also, are we going to talk about that hockey player staring deeply into your soul just now?”

You rolled your eyes at her words. “I don’t think I would count 2 seconds anything—”

“Of course it does! Have you seen those love at first sight tropes in romcoms?”

“I think you watched too many of them, Jen,” you squeezed her cheek and she slapped your hand, deadpanning at you. “Who is he anyway?”

“If I’m not wrong, he’s number one, Lee Heeseung, the captain. I think he’s in your English class too? Ring a bell?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you.

“I think I do remember him. He’s the one with fangirls lining outside, right?” Yunjin nodded at your words and you laughed, thinking back to the time where your professor had to chase a group of girls away before class started. Why? Because of Lee Heeseung’s sheer presence.

“Let’s not forget his messy hookups. Yikes,” Yunjin shuddered at the thought, suddenly rubbing her chin with a small frown. “Don’t you think we’re a bit uneducated when it comes to their players?”

“I mean,” you hummed, nodding a little. “I guess you’re right, we’re always there for the game and some beers and we barely bothered to find out which player is which,”

“We should pull up their Instagram profiles next game,” Yunjin suggested with a wink.

“Oh, I think you’ll definitely be on it,”

“Obviously,” Yunjin smirked. “Anyway, up for a facemask?”

You huffed, a small smile appearing on your face. “You know I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“THIS IS SUCH A TYPICAL CHAD THROWN KIND OF PARTY,”

You found yourself complaining once more as you and Yunjin entered a big house. The living room was basically filled to the brim, along with loud music booming throughout the room and the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils, this was pure hell. You turned to look at your best friend, silently cursing at her for bringing you here. Yunjin gave you her typical shrug as though she had read your thoughts, dragging you away from the vicinity.

"It's Yeonjun, what did you expect," Yunjin hissed, taking you further into the house.

"I also can’t believe you put me in this slutty dress,” you groaned. At this point, you were practically pulling your dress down every ten seconds from the way it kept riding up and you started getting beyond irritated by it.

“If not, you’ll turn up in your casual crop tops and denim shorts,” she shook her head in disapproval. “I can’t let that happen, not when there's rich guys here,”

"I'm here for a party, not to choose my next rich bachelor," you said in distaste, the last thing you wanted was a frat boy. “So, what are we going to do now?” you asked, holding tightly onto Yunjin’s hand as if your life depended on it.

“Enjoy ourselves, duh? I’ll go get some drinks. Sprite for you?”

You nodded, a little bummed out that you were missing out on some good booze since somebody, aka you, had to be responsible and drive back to the dorms without risking getting pulled over. You were already a broke college student, a fine would definitely not help your case.

Now here you are, stuck helplessly in the middle of a party with people you don’t know. Great. You thought about the possibilities that could've been if you decided to stay at home instead of leaning against a wall in a skimpy black dress and it had you groaning internally.

It was then the universe had heard your pleas of boredom and decided on some ‘fun’, except that ‘fun’ consisted of someone’s back bumping into you and their drink splattering all over onto your dress. You jumped in surprise and the boy who was practically pushed onto you had let out a small “oof” before fully realising what he had done.

“I’m so sorry,” he placed his cup aside and picked up some napkins from a table nearby. For a split moment, he was about to wipe your dress, then he paused, turning flustered when he realised what he was about to do, and instead, handed the napkins to you.

You gently dabbed the napkins on your soaked dress, a frown on your face as you felt the sticky substance stick to your skin uncomfortably. “It’s fine, you didn’t mean it anyway,”

You looked up from your dress, finally meeting his eyes. He blinked, seemingly trying to register who you were.

“It’s … you,”

“Me?” you pointed at yourself, a little dumbfounded at his words.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,”

That’s when it hit you. The very same eyes that stared back at you during the hockey game, the one that Yunjin had told you about. “Lee Heeseung?”

He resembled a bambi, his large innocent brown eyes gazing back at you, a look of curiosity behind them. He had a tall stature, his hair covering his forehead and it was styled plainly, not to mention his loosely buttoned up shirt clinging comfortably onto his frame. Now you understand why Yunjin said he has fangirls, you were shamefully about to be one too.

“Yeah … that’s me. What about you? Why’re you here?”

“Do you … recognize me?” you cringed a little at the memory of you practically cussing his team out, praying he would somehow forget it all.

“How could I not? You’re from English right? Shakespeare presentation, eh?” Heeseung recalled and you nodded, impressed that he remembered something from so long before, but most importantly, he remembered you.

“But of course, how could I forget, you’re also the person cussing us out on Friday too. I’m charmed, actually,” he chuckled nonchalantly as though it was nothing, but you, on the other hand, panicked a little and eyes only widened in a mix of horror and embarrassment.

Heeseung seemed to notice the panic in your eyes, waving his hands in reassurance. “Don’t worry though, I thought it was funny,” At his words, your shoulders relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief.

You let out a nervous laugh. “You guys did your best. There’s always a next time,”

“Right,” he nodded, then averted his gaze back to your dress, instantly coming back to reality as he remembered the current problem in front of his face. He removed his jacket in a flash, carefully placing it over your shoulders. The sudden proximity had you gasping quietly, the waft of his cologne infiltrating your senses.

He was close, so so agonisingly close. A wave of shock passed through your body as you felt his gentle touch, almost feather-like as it lasted only just a second, but now with his hugging your body, you could finally breathe an air of comfort once warmth engulfed you.

“Sorry about your dress,” he pulled away, flashing you a genuine apologetic smile. “I thought the least I could do was give you my jacket,”

“No worries, you didn't do it on purpose anyway, it’s not your fault,” you assured him, being a little self aware that numerous wandering eyes were now on you and the campus’ popular hockey team captain. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Actually,” Heeseung started, “I can borrow one of my friend’s shirts so that you can change? I don’t think it’s a good idea walking around like that, plus my friend lives in this frat house anyway,”

“If you insist,” you gave in, not wanting to reject his help as he seemed so keen.

You silently followed Heeseung through the crowd of bodies, trying your hardest to not get swallowed with the way people were shoving around. Heeseung noticed you lagging behind and smoothly took hold of your hand, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t say much, letting him guide you up the stairs into someone’s room.

You glanced around the room. From the way it was decorated with random posters, sports magazines stacked on the bedside table and dirty clothes littered the floor, you were instantly convinced that this room belonged to a frat boy.

Heeseung surprisingly continued to keep his hand in yours, using the other to dig through a pile of clothes until he found an oversize shirt and a pair of pants. “Here,” he handed you the clothes, finally letting go of your hand, stepping away with his hands in his pockets. “I think all the bathroom’s full so it’s best to just change here,”

“You think so?”

“I know so, I’ll leave it up to your imagination to think about whatever that happens in there,”

“Right …” you faltered at his comment, the two of you remained staring at one another. That’s when you cleared your throat, fumbling with your clothes. “I would appreciate it if you turned around … unless you want a show?”

“For free? I can't say no, can I?”

“You wish. Now turn around,”

Heeseung shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face as he threw his hands up in defence and faced away. You stood behind him, cheeks flared while you practically yanked your skimpy black dress off. Yunjin would not be happy knowing she’ll have to do laundry.

You reached over to the back of your dress, practically yanking forcefully onto the zip that was unwilling to budge even for a bit. God, why me? Why now? Internally conflicted, you didn’t know whether to bear the shame and ask Heeseung for help or to just stay silent. But to your luck, the zip was stuck no matter how you pulled it.

“Heeseung?”

He hummed in response.

“I need your help,” you swallowed, trying your best to not shrivel up and dig a grave in that moment. “My zip is stuck.”

Momentary silence filled the air. It seemed Heeseung, too, was having some internal conflict. In a second, you heard shuffling behind you, feeling the warmth of his body close as his fingers reached for your zip, his other hand on your waist. You felt his fingertips grazing against your bare skin as he dragged the zipper down, hearing a faint gulp from him. You squeezed your eyes shut, swearing to never come to parties again.

“You’re good to go,” he whispered, coughing awkwardly.

“Thanks,” you met his eyes in the reflection of the small mirror placed on top of a dresser in front of you. Realisation seemed to hit him and he averted his gaze, taking a look around the room instead.

You practically yanked the dress off, pulling the shirt over your head and the pants on, stumbling a little from the sudden hit of nervousness. Could it be his presence that made you nervous? You hated this feeling.

“I’m done,” you declared, suddenly feeling the tension in the air.

“So, I can look now?” Heeseung joked and you rolled your eyes, but smiled at him.

“Keep your eyes closed forever then,” you bumped his shoulder, sitting down on the bed.

“Should we stay here instead?” he suggested and you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion, to which he scoffed. “Of course no funny business, who do you think I am?”

“Playboy Lee Heeseung, no?”

He groaned. “That’s what people think of me even though it’s completely false,”

“You do have fangirls, don’t you?”

“But I don’t date them, do I?” he retorted. “I don’t even go to parties much these days, coach has been up my ass,”

“Sucks to be you,”

Heeseung scoffed, turning to look at you with a question in mind. “You’re a big hockey fan?”

“Ever since I was a kid. Why?”

“I notice you’re always there every game night with your friend,”

“So, I’ve caught your attention?”

“A pretty girl like you surely wouldn’t go unnoticed in my eyes,” he was close now, a challenging glint in his eyes as his gaze fell to your lips from time to time.

“You’re funny, Hee,” you couldn’t resist smiling.

“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes met yours, a sly grin on his face. “About your dress, I mean,”

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing damn well what lies in his words. Maybe he was just like every other campus athlete, but at that moment, you didn’t seem to care, your interest only increasing and you couldn’t tell if this was his plan all along.

You thought about his question for a moment, pursing your lip. “How about you win the next game? I think that’ll help a lot,”

Heeseung nodded thoughtfully. “If I do, can I get your number too?”

“Why not?”

“Shall this be a deal?” he smirked, ready for a challenge.

“Sure,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’ll win the next one, just you wait,” Heeseung's words were filled with utter determination and confidence. He was definitely ready to tell you 'told you so' and prove you wrong.

“Well, I’ll be waiting,” you glanced down at your phone, noticing over ten messages from Yunjin. Shit. “The clock’s ticking and I need to go. See you, captain,”

“Wait,” he caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to look at him, a big question mark written over your expression, anticipating his next words. “Can I at least know what your name is?”

You grinned. “It’s Y/N,”

"Get ready with your phone number, Y/N. I'll be looking out for you at the next game. Keep the jacket too," he winked and you waved a small goodbye, exiting out the door and dashed down the stairs with your dirty clothes in hand, wearing Heeseung's jacket, completely unaware how quick your heart was beating.

When you spotted Yunjin, you practically fell into her arms as she started ranting about why you shouldn’t run away without her knowledge, but all of it eventually drowned out into white noise. The only thing you could think of suddenly was Heeseung. Lee fucking Heeseung.

"Y/N," she sang out your name, tapping your head to catch your attention. “Why are you in a different outfit? You got laid didn’t you?” she gasped and you slapped her arm.

“Heeseung spilled a drink on me and took me to his friend’s room to change, that’s all,”

“Heeseung?” she gasped again, a teasing grin slowly forming and you knew that trouble was in that mind of hers. “You and him didn’t smoochy smooch … right?”

“We’re not there yet, hello?”

“There’s something called a hook up, you hopeless romantic,” Yunjin shook her head. “This sounds like the start of a hockey romance based on the books I've read," she squealed and you only sighed.

"Please read some self help books too,"

"Never," she huffed, leaning in and dropping her voice so that only the two of you could hear what she was about to say. "What did you two talk about? A private hook up after games? We need some spice in your hockey romance plot!"

"Oh my god, I rather drown than fuck that man. You do realise he has fangirls chasing after him? They'll choke me in my sleep if I slept with him,"

Yunjin wrapped her arm around you. "I'll choke you first if you don't bag that man. He's tall, hockey captain, hot most importantly," she winked. "One down part is that I'm pretty sure he used to fuck around quite a lot too. But then a messy hook up traumatised him,"

"How so?"

"She was crazy from what I heard. That's why no fangirls will come at you for revenge, they know he's a whore, but they'll just line up instead," she led you out to a flight of stairs, where there were some questionable couples making out, but that didn't stop you and Yunjin from sitting on the landing.

"Totally not a red flag," you said sarcastically. "I don't know how to feel about him. He was nice, quite flirty. Maybe he's like those Wattpad cliches where he's actually a nice guy?" You said, sipping onto the drink Yunjin got you.

"Who knows? Judging from the past rumours I've heard here and there, he definitely was a manwhore, but he’s also a sweet and genuine one," Yunjin clicked her tongue. "I did hear he's quite a sweetheart aside from his fuckboy tendencies."

"A manwhore with a kind heart! Just my type!" You clapped your hands and Yunjin chuckled at your comment. “Anyway, I swore I'm done with hockey boys a long time ago. I don't want to like him,"

Ice hockey has always been one of your favourite sports, but hockey boys? They were a whole different story for you. A core memory from highschool that you wished to never revisit was the fact that you had your heart broken by a hockey boy. He was considered your first love, a best friend, that ended up breaking your trust.

"This is why you should date a footballer,"

You snapped out of your momentary daze, looking up to meet Jake Sim’s eyes.

“Present to me a perfect candidate then,” Yunjin crossed her arms, frowning at Jake. She wasn't a big fan of him, considering his notorious playboy tendencies, but over time he did gradually warm up to her.

"Me!"

"I'll rip your head off first before you get a chance with Y/N,"

"Ouch,"

You and Yunjin shared a look, then burst out laughing.

"What's up, Sim? Do you have something for me?" You questioned Jake, wondering what his purpose was for his sudden appearance.

"Nothing, I'm just bored," he said plainly, though you and Yunjin were a little unconvinced.

"Okay? Any games coming up?"

"It's currently a short break for us. I'm glad or else my legs will snap in half soon," Jake pouted, resembling a puppy, which you couldn't help but find endearing. "You should totally come and learn to kick some footballs soon. Jake Sim is always up for some training," he winked.

"I'll be the next running candidate to take over Messi, right?" Yunjin joked and you nudged her side, giggling.

"Only if you learn at Jake Sim's personal training," he shrugged, a small smirk on his face. "Anyway, I really want to watch the hockey team and I heard you guys were regulars. Mind if I join?"

You raised an eyebrow at Yunjin, shooting her a wordless question. Yunjin scrunched her nose, thinking for a moment before shrugging. All while that was happening, Jake was just standing there staring, a little unimpressed.

"Hello? I don't appreciate this mind linking conversation that I'm not a part of," he placed his hands on his hips, his head tilted to the side.

"Alright, sorry," Yunjin mumbled.

"Fine, you can tag along," you said, watching the boy before you grin.

"Let's go!"

"IS IT NORMAL TO BE FREEZING COLD HERE?"

Jake had his arms around himself, shivering slightly even though he was already in layers. You and Yunjin followed the boy to your seats as he marvelled at the size of the rink.

"I barely watch hockey games, I'm more of a summer sports kinda guy," he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Well, it's just your lucky day, you'll be witnessing a win too," Yunjin winked, passing you a knowing glance.

"How do you know?"

"Team captain over there–" Yunjin nodded over at Heeseung, who was practising on the rink with the team, looking good as always, which only further annoyed you. "–made a deal with Y/N. I'm sure his determination will mix well with his competitiveness,"

Yunjin glanced over at you, a small smirk on her face. "And here he comes," she sang and you whipped your head just in time to meet his eyes.

Heeseung skated over, a small smile on his face. You felt Yunjin nudging your side in excitement and you slapped her hands away, ignoring her giddy expression and you returned a lopsided smile to Heeseung.

“Y/N!” you managed to hear his muffled voice through the glass, which he tapped on a couple times to get your full attention.

“I’m going to score one for you tonight,” you were surprised with the determined glint in his eyes, proving Yunjin's statement immediately, and after a quick wave from him, he skated away to join his team, preparing for the game to start.

Jake whistled, fanning himself. “I definitely felt the tension.”

“Shut up.”

The second period ended with a draw, both teams were not willing to back down for just a little, even creating small brawls on ice from time to time, causing the tension to be heightened. The third period was equally heart stopping and gut twisting. You had to occasionally grip Yunjin's arm whenever there was a close chance to score.

There was a sudden switch in the atmosphere, the home team had dominated possession of the puck, the blades of their skates working overtime trying to reach the other end to the opponent’s goal post. One hit after another, the puck travelled from one player’s hockey stick to another, until it reached star player Park Sunghoon, who had defenders swarming him and it left him no choice but to pass to his captain, Lee Heeseung.

With one swift hit to the oncoming puck from Sunghoon, it shot into the back of the net, leaving the goalie absolutely defenceless. The arena erupted with shouts and cheers, not expecting the sudden turnover from their home team, the speakers were blaring music, followed by announcing Heeseung’s name, which was welcomed with deafening screams. Shamelessly, you, Jake and Yunjin were part of the screams, clapping and jumping.

The team jumped onto Heeseung, but somehow, he escaped them all and started skating towards your direction, pointing his stick at you and shooting a wink. 'For you' he mouthed slyly at you before rejoining his teammates.

“See, I told you Heeseung will win it for Y/N,” Yunjin said, seemingly pleased.

“MVP,” Jake clapped, a shocked expression on his face.

You, on the other hand, were trying to digest everything that just happened. The moment where he dedicated the goal to you had you unintentionally blushing, realising a sudden change in feelings. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be so bad if you gave him a chance. Countless thoughts swarmed your head even until the end of the game.

Now, here you were, waiting for Heeseung at the parking lot, your friends peeking in the car from a distance.

Yunjin shot you an encouraging thumbs up while Jake only laughed at Yunjin’s efforts. You glared at them, waving them off and you reciprocated back with a middle finger. That’s when you heard a rough cough behind you. Fuck.

“Y/N?”

You turned around slowly, looking as though you were just caught in the middle of commiting something you're not supposed to. “Heeseung,” you laughed nervously. "Congrats on the game! You played well,”

“Thank you,” Heeseung grinned. “I’m glad you came. I mean, you always do, what am I even saying?” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

You couldn't help laughing, finding the way he got nervous was cute. He was cute too. Undeniable. "That was a nice goal by the way,"

"Well, I did say I wanted to score one specifically for you. I'm a man of my words, you know?" He chuckled, getting shy eventually. "I'm glad you liked it though,"

"Of course I did," you gave him a small smile, fidgeting your fingers slightly.

He straightened up, regaining his composure. “So … our deal,”

“You’re lucky I like you enough to actually stick to it,” you grumbled, shoving your hand into your pocket to dig out the piece of paper.

“You like me, huh?”

“Not in that way yet,”

“‘Yet’. So I do have a chance. I’m happy to know,”

“Do you want my number or a black eye?” you threatened rather unseriously, a teasing tone laced in your words.

“I’d prefer a kiss, but your number shall do for now,” he grabbed the small note from your hand, unwrapping it to find a candy in it. “Apple flavoured, what a nice surprise,” he mumbled under his breath.

“You’re cute, you truly have a way to my heart huh?” he looked up from the candy, storing away your number safely into his pocket.

You caught yourself speechless from his words. On average, you were typically unfazed by these comments. Countless boys had tried them on you and all of them turned out to feel icky instead of making you kick your feet, giggling. But this time, Heeseung proved you wrong.

"Coming from Lee Heeseung himself, should I be flattered?" You tried your best to stay nonchalant, keeping your heart rate down as much as you can.

"I don't know? You tell me," Heeseung leaned down, his face close to you now, making you slowly grow flustered.

"Count me a little flattered," you took the clothes from the other night from your bag, pushing it into Heeseung's hands, catching him off guard. "Here, relay my thanks to your friend,"

"Only to my friend? What about me?" Heeseung crossed his arms, staring accusingly at you.

"My number already counts as a ‘thanks’, doesn’t it?"

Heeseung narrowed his eyes at you, a smile itching at the corner of his lips. “Not enough. A date might suffice,”

“You are demanding, Lee Heeseung,” you huffed, but not rejecting his suggestion either.

“I’ll text you, pretty girl. I have a plan in mind, so you better clear your schedules,”

“Alright, captain.”

“FOR ONCE, I DON'T REGRET COMING TO A PARTY YOU SELECTED,”

You’ve always avoided frat parties, specifically frat boys, but this time, Yunjin managed to accomplish the unexpected by convincing you to a frat party. You had to admit, there was a small motive behind your agreement, which was to visit the richest frat house on the campus. Free expensive booze, a big pool, big everything, it was definitely going to be more than a party. All you had to do was avoid the frat boys and your night shall be made.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yunjin snapped, but you were too busy checking out the vicinity to listen to her grumbles.

“They have a huge ass yard and pool,” you whispered to Yunjin, weaving through the growing crowd. The house was too extravagant, even the air in there seemed richer. The tiles were completely marbled, there were stairs leading up to almost four floors. You wondered how it was even owned by a frat.

“This is a rich frat, what did you expect?”

“Touche.”

You and Yunjin didn’t bother waiting for a second before taking some pregame shots. The vodka burned your throat, making you wince a little, but it didn't stop you from more. The moment Jake found the two of you, it was already clear you were already on the way to being completely shit-faced.

"Oh come on, you already started without me?" Jake whined, downing two shots of vodka straight.

"Couldn't resist," Yunjin pressed her lips into a thin line, shrugging slightly.

"Also, did you guys hear?" Jake leaned in, dropping his voice. "The hockey team from our rival school is coming to this party,"

"What?" You hissed, frowning slightly. "Who invited their asses?"

"I don't know," Jake shrugged, picking up another glass of alcohol from a tray.

"Speaking of hockey," Yunjin cleared her throat, passing you a knowing smirk. "Aren't you going to find Heeseung?"

"I–why would I?" You stammard, avoiding Yunjin's piercing gaze.

"He's clearly into you. Didn't you see him pulling that stunt that day? Scoring a goal for you and winning just for your number? That's the most commitment I've seen from him or just any man in general,"

"Hear hear," Jake raised his glass in agreement, then proceeded to down it without a second thought.

"I'll see what happens tonight," you said, but your eyes decided to go against you, unconsciously scanning the room hoping to see him.

"Tonight will be full of opportunities," Yunjin marvelled, throwing her arm around your shoulder and winking. "If you know what I mean," she whispered.

"The first you'll see is me getting drunk, not getting laid," you let out an exasperated sigh, pursing your lips and pausing as something caught your eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows, instantly noticing a group of guys filing into the room. They must be the rival team Jake had mentioned.

“Must be them,” Yunjin pointed out, taking a big gulp from her cup. Jake whipped his head around, scanning the group of guys that were yelling loudly, dabbing up one another and seemingly unlikeable as a whole.

He made a sour expression. “Great, hockey jocks,”

“As though your group of football guys are any better,” Yunjin quipped, only earning a sharp glare from Jake and he cleared his throat, gaze focused on a specific person.

“That guy there must be their captain,” he nodded at the group and you had to squint your eyes to see who Jake had his attention trained at. Almost immediately, your smile dropped, along with your heart. It was him.

You froze the moment your eyes landed on a tall figure, it definitely was him. He stood out from the rest, being the taller and bulkier one with messy hair and undeniable charm from the way he was already surrounded by different girls. Yup, that’s 100% Matthew, your high school lover, the hockey boy that traumatised your love life.

“Oh fuck me,” you cursed under your breath, the other two turning to stare at you.

“You want to fuck him?” Jake shrieked in surprise and Yunjin slapped the back of his head, causing the boy to hiss in pain, silently cursing.

“No, dipshit. That’s her …” she glanced at you and you nodded, giving her a green flag to continue, “ex.”

“Him? Matthew Son? Your ex?” Jake was flabbergasted, panning back and forth between your ex and you.

“Unfortunately. High school ex, to be exact,” you grumbled, pushing away the ill thoughts and bitter feelings that lingered for Mathew. You were a new person, you were never someone to be stuck in the past, you weren’t about to be affected by him. Never.

“I might need more drinks,” you rubbed the side of your head, slipping away before the other two could even say anything. Though the voice in your head was constantly affirming that his presence wasn’t affecting you, you still couldn’t help feeling unnerved. Seeing him was unnerving too.

The kitchen was unsurprisingly glamorous and the space was huge. Everything in there screamed fancy and expensive. The counter was made from marble, cupboards were also probably made from high quality wood and the wide variety of food in there could literally make it resemble a grocery store. Best of yet, you had it all to yourself. For once, your ex made himself useful enough by helping you attract everyone to the main room.

You spotted some leftover bottles of gin and decided to give your bartender skills some try. It wasn’t your first rodeo thanks to Yunjin. Ever since she started bringing you to parties and being someone who’s easily impressed, you found yourself learning some tips and tricks on how to mix drinks from a rando in a party one day. Soon, it became your favourite party activity.

It was quite peaceful being all by yourself. The songs playing on the speakers reverberated across the house, but you didn’t mind it as you mixed a concoction of gin and juice on the counter, praying it would turn out fine.

“You’re here?”

You turned around at the sound of the voice, almost toppling over your glass in shock, but the moment you met a familiar set of doe eyes, you released a breath of relief, your heart unknowingly beating faster.

“You’re here too? I thought no parties for Mr Hockey?” you leaned back onto the counter as he walked to your side.

“Thought I’d give myself an off day after yesterday’s win,” Heeseung shrugged, glancing at you from time to time. “Surprisingly, I always see you at every party I go to,”

“I was dragged to every said party by force,” you thought of the she-devil, Yunjin, who somehow successfully convinced you to attend every party with her. “Do you want a drink?” you offered, nodding towards your half made drink.

“You’re making them?” Heeseung eyed the bottles.

“I am a woman of many talents,” you said smugly, continuing your drink mixing, feeling Heeseung’s piercing stare on you.

“A woman who wouldn’t poison me right?” he peeked over your shoulder, closing in on your face, his body only inches away from yours till the point where you could feel the heat radiating off him. Lee Heeseung definitely knew what he was doing.

“You’re doubting my abilities now then?” you kept your cool, pouring alcohol into a new glass for Heeseung.

He smiled. “Just trying to make sure,” he murmured into your ears and you could tell he was enjoying teasing you. Sly fucker.

“No promises,” your voice came out in a whisper, turning a little to the side to meet his pair of bambi eyes and your breath hitched suddenly upon realising how close the two of you were, you were only an inch apart from touching each other’s noses. You were scared to move even the slightest, shying gradually from his eyes sweeping your features.

“What if I said I wanted to kiss you,”

You scoffed, growing immune to his charms. “I thought you were a gentleman, Lee? No candlelit dinner first?”

He cracked a grin, chuckling slightly. “Sometimes I skip that part and jump to dessert first,” he winked and you rolled your eyes, pushing his face away and he burst out laughing. “I’m playing with you. I’m obviously a gentleman, can’t you tell?”

You hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in scepticism. “I can’t.”

“You love breaking my heart, Y/N. I’m hurt,” he frowns, feigning innocence as he laid his head on your shoulder, clutching at his chest and you found yourself smiling unknowingly at his dramatics.

You decided to play along, patting Heeseung’s head in so called “comfort”. “Oh, what can I do to fix your broken heart, Heeseung?” you exclaimed.

“Come to Jay’s birthday party with me?” he stared up at you with pleading eyes. Those bambi eyes will eventually be the death of you.

"Why?"

You've heard of Jay Park one too many times. From the campus cafes to the local club, he was everywhere, and you didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. He was another one of the popular hockey players from Heeseung's team which you've seen at almost every party you attended ever since your first year.

Yunjin told you only one thing upon seeing Jay Park: "don't meddle with him" and you've stuck to it.

"That's a bold invitation," you considered for a moment, still quite unconvinced. "Isn't it just a bro only party?"

"He's the one asking us to bring a plus one," Heeseung huffed, removing his head from your shoulder, a small pout on his face. "Worse part is that it's in a club,"

"Are you trying to persuade me or dissuade me?"

"What I mean is, I'll be with you there. It's also a VIP lounge given how loaded Jay is and knowing him, he probably rented it out too. Plus, they'll finally get to meet the girl who cussed them out!"

You buried your head into your hands in shame, embarrassment burning your cheeks red. "You can't be serious,"

"Unfortunately, I am. But they'll love you, don't worry, pretty,"

You glared at him while he only returned a cheeky grin back at you. “Fine,” you groaned out, ultimately succumbing to his words, unable to deny the effect he had on you. Curse him. “When and what time?”

“Next Saturday night,” his grin widened at your words, satisfaction washed over his face. “I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“Sounds good,”

“That’s that then,” he glanced over at his shoulders, hearing faint shouts of his name outside of the kitchen and passed you an apologetic smile, as if expressing that it was a shame he couldn’t stay longer and you couldn’t lie, you wanted him to stay longer. “Remember to send me your address, gorgeous.” he waved his phone in the air before backing away and disappearing out the door.

It was about to be a long week ahead.

“SET ME UP WITH ONE OF THEM, PLEASE. I NEED THE MONEY,”

Saturday, to your dismay, unfortunately and eventually arrived. You didn’t know whether to be excited or absolutely dread the party, a certain feeling of anxiety clawing at your insides just when you think about meeting new people. Yunjin could only roll her eyes at you as she added more eyeshadow.

“It already sends shivers down my spine thinking that I’ll be speaking to them in person and you expect me to go ‘hey guys, my friend needs someone to be her sugar daddy, you up’?” you deadpanned, applying a layer of lip gloss.

“That’s exactly it,” Yunjin smiled pleasantly and you feigned gagging, making Yunjin laugh and almost poking the mascara wand into your eyes. “Also, do you consider this a date?”

“He did say he wanted to take me out, but having him take me to a club as a date? I don’t think he’s the sleazy type to do so. I take it as him taking me as his date … like a friendly invite,”

“Friendly invite?” Yunjin exclaimed incredulously, inching closer to check on the details of your makeup. “Did you see the way he looks at you? There's nothing friendly about that, he’s hooked,”

“You’re giving me false hope, Jen,” you sighed, standing up to change into an outfit Yunjin picked which, in her words,was definitely ‘life changing enough to have Heeseung on his knees’.

“Not false hope if it’s literally just the truth,” Yunjin shrugged, helping to clasp a necklace around your neck. “Come on, give me a twirl,” she squealed excitedly once you were done struggling balancing on one leg putting on the dress and shoes.

You complied with Yunjin’s request, begrudgingly giving her a small twirl. At the same time, you took the chance to glance down at your dress, satisfied that for once an impulsive purchase benefited you. The dress was a shade of midnight blue, hugging your body tight and showing off your curves in the best way as if it was custom made. All in all, as Yunjin would describe, it was simply ‘pants dropping’.

At the ‘ping’ of your notification, you saw a text from Heeseung saying he had already arrived and your heart jumped. With one swift hug from Yunjin and an ‘encouraging’ saying along the lines of ‘hooking up’ and ‘protection’, you were pushed out of the door and soon into Heeseung’s car.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Heeseung greeted, a half smile on his face as his hands rested on the steering wheel. He paused when his eyes landed on your figure, his gaze sweeping you from top to bottom, making you a little self conscious. He whistled under his breath, blinking slowly.

“Eyes up here,” you stared pointedly at him, crossing your arms, but you had to admit, you were checking him out shamelessly as well, the smell of his vanilla cologne in the air and his loose button up shirt wasn’t helping either.

“My bad. I was just admiring you. You look pretty,” he turned his attention back to the road, heading to wherever the club was located, just in time to not notice the slight blush to your cheeks.

“Really? You don’t look too bad yourself either, Lee,”

“Why thank you. I’m flattered,” he shot you a wink and you could only roll your eyes at his antics.

The rest of the conversation continued in a casual flow, making you feel at ease and your anxiety eventually lessened. The jokes he cracked made you laugh and with the way he answered your questions, you knew he wasn’t anything like the playboy people made him up to be. As much as you hated to admit, you were giving him the benefit of the doubt. Will it hurt you? Maybe.

After Heeseung pulled the car into park, you got out and you were instantly in awe at the exterior of the club. This was in fact a place where rich kids party, judging from the amount of ferraris, mercedes and other luxurious cars parked outside, you made sure to keep yourself away from the snobby rich kids or who knows, Yunjin’s wish might even be granted tonight.

Wordlessly, Heeseung offered you his hand and you intertwined your fingers with his, letting him guide you further into the club as you pushed yourself through the crowd, and soon arrived in a large room that was almost the size of someone’s living room. “You’re kidding,” you murmured, amazed by the size of the room and the decorations littered across every wall.

“Told you Jay was blessed with money,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, shooting a sweet smile.

“I should set him up with Yunjin,” you said thoughtlessly and Heeseung chuckled.

“He’ll like that roommate of yours,”

“Heeseung!”

You were interrupted by an approaching figure who was easily recognizable with that head of freshly dyed white hair. Park Sunghoon, another ace of the hockey team. Thanks to Yunjin’s valiant effort in finding every player’s instagram profile, you were now able to recognise who was who.

“Hoon!” Heeseung greeted back, giving his best friend a side hug.

Unfortunately for you, Sunghoon was quick to turn his attention to you instead. “Y/N right? Heard many good things about you,” he extended his hand, a sneaky grin on his face.

You accepted his handshake, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. “That’s me,”

“You’re a regular at the hockey games, how are they?” Sunghoon kept you company now that Heeseung went away to greet the others, but you didn’t mind, finding yourself growing comfortable with the Jack Frost look alike.

“Do you wish to listen to my boring five hour analysis on each game?”

“I think it would be longer than five hours,”

“Exactly,” you clicked your tongue, then narrowed your eyes in suspicion at him. “Plus, how do you know I’m a regular? It’s not like I score front row seats every game,”

Sunghoon glanced around as if searching for anyone who’s eavesdropping, then he gestured for you to come closer, which you did, though clearly confused. “I think Heeseung will kill me for saying this,”

“Why?” you whispered back, your smile twisting into a frown. “Oh god, is Heeseung a stalker?”

“What?” it was Sunghoon’s turn to be utterly confused, staring back at you as though you’re the crazy one. He shook his head. “Heeseung might fool around sometimes but he’s definitely not a stalker or a Ted Bundy wannabe.”

“Thank heavens,” you let out a sigh of relief, but Sunghoon definitely wasn’t done yet.

“Anyway, what I was about to say was, Heeseung has always paid attention to you, Y/N. English class, hockey games, he’s got sharp eyes, ace for a reason eh? He’s genuine about you. Believe me, I’ve heard about you since day one, and I mean this in a nice way, but I’m sick of him constantly talking about you without doing anything at all,” a small grin appeared on Sunghoon’s devilishly handsome features.

“I must admit, he was a player, but I can see he’s changing and I don’t think it’ll hurt to give him a chance. He’s a sweetheart, so just don’t break his heart, will you?” he glanced behind his shoulders, noticing Heeseung entering the room with one of his teammates and a girl. “Heeseung’s back and I know he’s going to kill me if he finds out. It’s nice meeting you, Y/N. My date’s here, see you!”

Sunghoon gave you a small pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving your head in a frenzy state. Lee Heeseung, captain of the hockey team, the school’s ace and pride, basically Mr Popular, was into you? Yunjin was going to strangle you in either excitement or surprise when she found out.

“What were you guys talking about?” he slithered smoothly to your side, bumping your shoulder gently.

“Hockey. Was wondering if he wanted an analysis on each game,”

Heeseung grinned, shaking his head gently. “You’re a menace,”

There were basically zero chances to be alone together, which you suddenly craved after Sunghoon basically dropped a big bomb on you, till now you still couldn’t swallow. Heeseung had you close to his side as he introduced you to each of his teammates and their dates, including the birthday boy Jay, and somehow all of them remembered you from that fateful night on Friday.

“So, how did you meet our dear Heeseung here?” Jay wiggled his eyebrows, passing you a glass of champagne that probably costs way more than you imagine.

“Oh, it was magical, I fell into his arms and he confessed his love for me,” you sighed dreamily, fanning yourself. At your words, Jay nudged you, a wide smile on his face and you waved your hand, stifling your giggles. “Kidding, it would totally be a wattpad cliche if that happened. He’s in my English class and we met at a party,”

“I’m surprised he’s somewhat won you over,” he raised a questionable eyebrow at you. “You are aware of how he was right? Or are you the type to scream and cry after figuring out his past fuckboy history?”

You gave him an unamused stare. “If I minded his past, I wouldn’t be here anyway. But he does seem like a changed person, I’ve heard stories from my roommate and they were … interesting,”

Jay let out a soft laugh at that. “I can tell he’s serious about you, trust me, he’s the type to not back down when he sets his mind to something. Let his hockey be an example,” he shrugged. “I know my best friend, Y/N. Unless he fucks up then I’ll punch him for you,”

You placed a hand on your chest, a bemused grin lit up your features. “You’re truly a gentleman, Jay,”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be your gentleman!” Heeseung appeared behind you, his arm thrown around your shoulder. If you could explode right now, you would. The amount of skinship you had with Heeseung was unhealthy and unknowingly, you found yourself succumbing to it each time. “Let’s go to the dancefloor outside? The guys really want to go,”

Now you were in the middle of the dancefloor, swaying your body to the beat of whatever song the DJ was playing and it was nice that it felt like you were in your own world, carelessly and mindlessly dancing to your heart’s content. You were surrounded by the boys’ dates, who you’ve found yourself befriending quickly, while Heeseung was nowhere to be seen after dancing for only a few minutes. Rude.

“Hi,” you snapped your head to find Jay squeezing through towards you, trying his best to not get his expensive shoe stepped on. “Where’s Heeseung?”

“That’s a question I’d like to ask too. He’s definitely not with me though. I thought he was with you at first … but I guess not,” you shrugged, frowning slightly as you wondered where that man would have run off to.

“I thought he was with you,” Jay huffed, annoyance clear in his features. “I swear if he’s out there wasted, coach is going to—wait…” he faltered, his gaze trailed over your head and being naturally curious, you followed his gaze, turning around and from a distance, you couldn’t tell what Jay was even looking at, until you pinpoint a familiar someone in a dress shirt you saw not long before.

There he was, sitting at the bar, back facing the dancing floor as he sat close to a girl, whispering into each others’ ears and laughing. You swore you didn’t care, but the heart doesn’t lie, you were jealous and it wasn’t helping how Sunghoon was just saying Heeseung was serious about you only hours before this. It was comical.

“Oh,” Jay said under his breath, taking a big gulp from the glass in his hand.

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” you said flatly, not realising you were practically shooting daggers into the back of Lee Heeseung’s head. Jay let out a small laugh that eventually turned into a cough once he saw you giving him a side eye, an apologetic smile appearing on his face.

“You know, Y/N, I have a plan,” his smile slowly turned into a smirk and it dawned on you, Park Jong Seong’s gears were in work and you didn’t know what you’re about to get yourself into. “Don’t give me that look, my plans are the best,”

Your frown deepened, resuming to give Jay a sceptical look as his smile continued to get more playful. Oh you were in for a treat. “Why don’t we make Heeseung … jealous? I mean, it is clear that he likes you, a little push won’t hurt can it?”

“Have you been watching too many romcoms?” you shot him a look of exasperation, noticing the similarity between him and Yunjin. One was already enough, you didn't need two. Jay nudged you softly, wiggling his eyebrows in encouragement for disaster.

“I bet you the moment he sees you with me, he’s going to burst and before you know it, you’ll be celebrating your one year anniversary—”

You held a hand up, silencing Jay before he could continue further. You started chewing on your bottom lip, a small habit of yours, as you found yourself in disbelief once these words left your lips. “Fine, why not?”

Jay shot you a wink, closing in on you and you placed a hand on his chest, raising an eyebrow. “No funny business, Jay,”

“You have no faith in me. It’s common bro code to not get with your best friend’s girl,”

You let Jay dance close to you, appreciating the fact that he was maintaining a respectful distance to you, setting a clear boundary between the both of you. Contrary to popular beliefs, he might actually seem not too bad. “I feel like Lee Heeseung might’ve been peeking at us,”

“You think so?”

Jay glanced at the direction of the bar, catching Heeseung’s piercing gaze and he smirked, leaning close to you. “Oh, he’s so watching us,”

"You're kidding," you turned around, still moving your body to the music, squinting your eyes to find Heeseung staring back at you, jaw clenched and lips pressed into a flat line, practically glaring daggers into Jay's head.

"You're not," you said mindlessly, hearing Jay burst out laughing behind you, but it all faded to grey as your eyes followed Heeseung's figure disappear behind a corner.

"He's leaving," you spun around, meeting Jay's panicked expression. "I'll go find him,"

"Did our plan work a little too well?"

"We’ll find out soon," you patted Jay's shoulder, whispering a quick thanks before welcoming the challenge of squeezing past sweaty bodies.

You figured Heeseung was heading back to the private room from the looks of where he was going, so you followed his trail around the corner, stumbling slightly and immediately regretting the amount of drinks you had. In the very next moment, you regretted more than just the drinks, you were contemplating your existence.

"Y/N?"

Son Matthew was staring back at your limp figure leaning against the wall for support, a mix of shock and confusion in his face. You, on the other hand, was about to sink into the ground in shame. Being tipsy and struggling to stand was already a moment you would never want anyone to see, let alone your cheating ex.

You cleared your throat, gripping onto the wall to straighten up, avoiding his wandering eyes as much as you could. The awkward tension in the air was palpable, you were aware how rigid the man before you was and you knew he probably didn’t think of bumping into you here out of nowhere.

“So…how are you—”

“Save the small talk please,” you interjected, sighing deeply at the usual post breakup ‘how are you’s and awkward catching up.

“Look, I never got to apologise and I know you hate me for it—”

“Of course I do!” you exclaimed, getting heated gradually and the alcohol in your system wasn’t helping one bit. “I walked in on you and her in the bedroom and you expect me to stand there to wait for your apology? It’s the fact that you never bothered to apologise after anyway,”

He looked down in shame, knowing every word you said was true and undeniable, meanwhile his silence only hurt you further. First loves always hurt, and seeing him here again after many years made you realise that you truly deserved way more than a hockey jock like him.

“I’m playing against your school’s team next week,” he said weakly, trying to change the subject. Great, another day to dread when it was supposed to be you and your best friend’s day.

“Good luck,” you didn’t know what to say, finding yourself in an awkward position. “Or not really,”

Matthew nodded slowly, clearly getting uncomfortable and you were too. “So, are you talking to someone now—”

“Yeah, she is,”

You felt an arm snaking its way around your shoulder, tensing for a minute until you realised whose voice it was.

“Lee Heeseung?” Matthew’s demeanour changed in a flash, suddenly seeming more spiteful and filled with jealousy. This was giving you deja vus of the red flags you’ve experienced in your past relationship. It made you feel sick.

“Son Matthew,” Heeseung cooed, eyeing him readily. Heeseung and Matthew had always been somewhat rivals ever since they started playing hockey. Matthew had mentioned a ‘rival’ once too many times in the past and lucky you, you were able to piece it together after entering college where you’d watched their teams play against each other once for a cup competition.

“Long time no see,” Heeseung said coolly, a small smirk on his face as he stared back at your ex, whose expression was twisting into a foul look. “Ready for the next game?”

At Heeseung’s mocking tone, Matthew scoffed. “You haven’t changed, eh? Still the usual overconfident Lee Heeseung,”

“They don’t call me ‘ace’ for no reason, right? Hey, I deserve some bragging rights,” you rolled your eyes at Heeseung’s words, which seemed to tick your ex further. He really knows how to rile someone up, doesn’t he?

“See you on the ice,” Matthew grumbled, walking past Heeseung and you, making sure to mumble ‘jerk’ loud enough for Heeseung to hear, prompting him to let out a laugh as he waved your ex tauntingly goodbye.

“How friendly,” Heeseung gritted out through a forced smile, his eyebrows furrowed, obviously annoyed but then he turned to you, a quizzical look replacing his previous agitated expression. “How do you know this guy? He’s a complete douche,”

“He’s my ex,” you admitted not so happily, noticing the slight surprise in Heeseung’s face.

“He wasn’t trying to do anything to you right?” Heeseung asked at once, his eyes flashed with worry as they darted around your face to your body. You softened at his words, shaking your head and reaching over to take his hand in yours.

“I’m fine, really. It was really awkward though,” you tried to laugh it off, but in reality you were so ready to dig yourself a grave. “You’re not wrong, he is a jerk and I don’t know what I even saw in him when he literally cheated on me,”

“Speaks a lot about his character for being so shit off and on ice. I’m sorry, Y/N, you deserved more than someone like him,” Heeseung squeezed your hand gently, passing you a consoling smile.

“It’s alright, Hee, I’ve gotten over him years ago. I hope you guys beat his ass next game,” you swung his hand lightly, beaming at his presence, but not noticing the fact that he was trying his best to hide a smile.

Heeseung cleared his throat. “I’ll trash him for you, Y/N,”

“Sounds like another challenge. I’ll take you up on it,” you smirked.

“You have to stop tormenting me, I swear,” Heeseung sighed wearily at your antics, but he couldn’t resist a lopsided grin. “Anyway, where were you even going?”

“To get a drink,” you blatantly lied through your teeth, unwilling to admit that you were actually looking for him. There’s one thing that Yunjin always preached and it was to never let a man know you’re chasing him. In times like this, you were about to listen to her teachings.

“You had fun dancing with Jay?” Heeseung smoothly brought up, completely having zero intentions of either sugar coating nor hiding his jealousy, and you were stunned by his straightforwardness, a small grin tugging at your lips.

“He offered me company, so I took up that offer. Someone here was off flirting with someone else, no? I thought you were a gentleman?” you said teasingly, but in secret, you had to admit you were a little upset. Just a little.

Heeseung stared back at you, a look of amusement and deadpan on his face.“I wasn’t flirting, Y/N. She was asking what drink I got since it looked funky and being the gentleman I am—” he gave you a smirk and winked, “— I answered her question, but she couldn’t hear me so I had to lean in. It’s genuinely a misunderstanding from someone else’s point of view,”

Noticing the slight lingering doubt in your features, he smiled at you reassuringly, throwing his arm around you and started guiding you back to the private room. “You do know I’m yours for the night, right? I won’t leave you for someone else. I told you I’ll have you by my side and I’ll stick to it,”

“Just for tonight?” you said curiously, peering up at him.

“What are you trying to say, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow at you quizzically, but you just brushed it off, flushing a little at your own words, meanwhile Heeseung sneaked a small smile after noticing your panicky behaviour.

“Let me take you home,” Heeseung offered, pushing the door open to a room scattered with people here and there, some making out on the couch and some at the corner having small talks. The contrast was certainly there.

“What about the whole birthday celebration for Jay? Cake?”

“Oh he’s too drunk for that,” Heeseung waved his hand dismissively, as if this was a common occurrence. “Sunghoon will help him out, don’t worry,”

“If you say so … then I won’t decline your kind offer,” you furrowed your eyebrows, pursed your lips and stared pointedly at Heeseung. “Did you drink?”

“Mocktails, Y/N, mocktails. I’ve been pulled over before and trust me, I want none of that again,”

“Bad boy Heeseung … interesting,” you nodded slightly, a mischievous smirk on your face, to which was met with Heeseung unamused laugh.

“I’ll dump you here if you call me that again,” he huffed, picking up your jacket and bag.

“What happened to being yours for the night?” you said in a sing-song tone, looping your arm around his and pulled him through the door, making sure to wave a half-drunk Jay along the way out.

“Might have to make some adjustments then.”

“Mean.”

NEVER IN YOUR DREAMS WOULD YOU EXPECT YUNJIN TO absolutely embarrass Heeseung the moment he dropped you off at your doorstep. But that was exactly what had happened.

"Oh Heeseung," Yunjin opened the door with a hand placed on her hip, staring straight at Heeseung with a vague smile.

"Uh … hi?" Heeseung greeted back with uncertainty, panning back and forth between you and your roommate.

"Kissed Y/N yet?"

You and Heeseung immediately froze on the spot, blinking in question back at Yunjin, and you swore to yourself that you couldn't take anymore embarrassing moments for the night or else you'll soon be six feet under. You felt heat travelling up to your face and embarrassment crawling onto your skin.

"Well! Goodnight, Heeseung. Thanks for the ride!" you instantly pushed Yunjin back inside, closing the door but just enough for you to peek your head out.

"Don't mind her, she likes to think … outside the box sometimes!" you whispered to him, an apologising half smile on your face and ears burning a scarlet red, which Heeseung mirrored and finally after a last goodbye, he left and you were alone with Yunjin.

"I'll kill you, Huh Yunjin."

"Fuck."

It's been a few days since that interesting exchange and you've already texted Heeseung about it, being able to sigh a breath of relief when he was cool about it and sparing the trouble of chasing Yunjin around. Soon, with the mountain load of work, it was already Friday night hockey in a blink of an eye.

“You whore! You lying whore," Yunjin hissed, sucking her teeth. "I heard a specific someone is done with hockey boys? Is she in the room with us now?”

You were caught guilty at once, passing Yunjin a dirty look as you pulled Heeseung's jersey over your head. "It just … happened. Oh my God, am I actually in love?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions first, genius," Yunjin poked your forehead. "Do you like him?"

"Yes."

"No hesitation. I've truly lost you to him, huh?"

"You're always my number one, Jen," you rolled your eyes at her antics, picking your stuff up and starting to make your way out to the arena with Yunjin clinging onto your arm.

“But the problem now is who’s going to make the move first?” Yunjin hummed, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip.

“I’m hoping he would,”

“Why don't you do it?”

“This isn’t the first day we’ve been friends, Jen,”

“Right …”

Being somebody who's afraid of confrontation, you find yourself stuck in the middle. Currently torn between wondering if you were finally ready for something new and worrying if Heeseung would treat you right. 'He's serious about you' rang in your head from time to time and you couldn't lie, you started reciprocating the interest he had in you over time.

"If you like him, just go for him," Yunjin spoke out of the blue after a moment of silence, as if reading your thoughts and sensing something off. "I'm serious, Y/N. He's a nice, genuine guy, and seeing the way he treats you, you deserve someone that gives you their all,"

"Yunjin I'll cry right now," you stopped in your tracks, pouting at your best friend while she could only laugh, throwing her arms around you and continuing to drag you towards the arena.

"Aren't they playing our rival team today?" Yunjin recalled, frowning a little upon realisation. "That means he's there too, no?"

"Unfortunately," you pressed your lips into a thin line, breathing out slowly. "You do remember me telling you that Heeseung and I bumped into him at the party right?"

“Yeah?”

“They’re definitely going to cause a scene tonight, I can feel it in my bones,”

“It’s not that serious,”

“Remember Matthew’s lifelong rival since high school that I’ve mentioned before?”

“Don’t tell me it’s …”

“Heeseung. Small world, right?”

Yunjin raised her eyebrows in surprise, whistling quietly under her breath. "Quite unexpected," she said breathlessly, not realising that you were now already at the arena. "I'd love a fight,"

"You just love chaos,"

"And you're right," Yunjin smiled sweetly at you and you pushed her face away, earning a laugh from her. "Is Heeseung not meeting you pregame?" She nudged your side, raising her eyebrows expectantly with a knowing smirk on her face as she led you down to your usual seats in the arena.

"He did text me…" you said, seeing Yunjin's eyebrows rising higher. "But he said his coach is more strict for today so no pregame meetings,"

"Lame," Yunjin booed.

"He also said he's treating dinner tonight after the game,"

"Not lame," Yunjin switched up and practically almost jumped out of her seat, clapping her hands. "Let's feast tonight. Go team!"

"MAN, I NEED SOME POPCORN FOR THIS,"

Nervousness started creeping up on you as you witnessed the heated start of the game, both teams clashing roughly into one another and fouling left and right. Yunjin was entertained; you were worried and stressed.

"They keep fouling our team and no time outs, you're kidding," you threw your hands up in frustration, noticing other students grumbling as well.

"Are we surprised? Big games are like this," Yunjin shook her head, crossing her arm and leaned back into her seat.

Two periods went by rather quickly, both teams were tied and obvious vexation hung in the air. You noticed Heeseung was practically flying around, chasing the puck with vigor, bumping hard into other players in order to reach the goalpost, but to his dismay, he missed the shot, earning groans from many, you included.

The third period rolled over in a blink of an eye, the tension heightened as the two teams were finding ways to score desperately. Your eyes instinctively followed Heeseung's speeding figure, but something in your stomach told you things were about to turn sour real quick.

Heeseung was zooming across the defenders with ease, guiding the puck towards the goalpost, until a distinct figure, who happened to be the one and only, Matthew, skated up next to him and started causing trouble. You couldn't tell what was exactly happening, but the aggression between the two was getting heavier by each second.

Next thing you knew, Heeseung rammed into your ex, sending him flying to the glass panels, but that wasn't all. Heeseung completely forgo the puck, throwing his gloves to the side and skated up to Matthew, sizing him up.

Both teams were extremely caught off by this sudden fight between them, everyone started panicking the moment Heeseung grabbed Matthew by the neck, but your ex seemed unfazed and continued uttering something to him, leading up to the part where Heeseung punched the latter in the face.

You and Yunjin audibly gasped and so did everyone else in the arena, including the players on the bench and the coaches who were yelling over the noise. Those on the ice made their way to the fight, trying their utmost best to rip the two apart, but Heeseung had his hands practically glued on Matthew, not wanting to let go as he was seen screaming at him.

"I mentioned wanting a fight but not like this …" Yunjin muttered, now standing and occasionally tip-toeing to see what was happening. "Matthew obviously egged him on and pissed Heeseung off,"

"Heeseung has the worst temper on ice, he knew what he was doing," you frowned, getting worried as you watched the referee sending both of them to the penalty box. Heeseung threw his helmet on the floor in frustration, his wet strands of hair sticking onto his forehead.

"Well, at least the team is winning," Yunjin pointed out to the score line, where a glorious 3-2 was showing on the jumbotron. The home team managed to score the winning goal after the game was resumed, taking advantage of the opposition's bewilderment from the fight to mess their strategy up.

The crowd was cheering and jumping, food got scattered around onto the floor and the away fans could only leave in silence. Towards the end of the final period, Heeseung's penalty ended and he joined the team in exiting the ice, face still a little sour as his coach started telling him off.

“You should find him after this,” Yunjin tapped your side and you nodded in agreement, making sure to text him beforehand.

‘Locker room’ was the only thing he texted back and you slowly got anxious, curious as to what had really happened between him and your ex on ice. One thing’s for sure, it definitely wasn’t something good.

You stormed up to the doors of the locker room, heaved a breath of courage and pushed your way in. Lucky for you, by the time you got there mostly everyone was gone, except for Heeseung and Sunghoon, both sitting on a bench, whispering aggressively at one another. That was until Sunghoon caught your approaching figure, giving Heeseung a final word before standing up.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon passed you an awkward smile, a first aid kit in his hands. “I’ll leave him in your hands, I have an appointment with someone now,” he basically thrusted the box into your hands, whispering a quick apology and thanks before scampering away.

You felt helpless and confused as the box sat in your hands, then you started advancing slowly towards Heeseung and soon, you were standing directly in front of him, prompting him to stare up at you, still managing to crack a smirk even when his face looked rough. His left eye was bruised, lips cut and cracked and practically bleeding, his knuckles red and bruised. Overall, he was quite literally a mess.

"You're wearing my jersey,"

"And you're bleeding right now, is that important?"

"To me it is,"

"You're a fool. You have a bruised eye now," you fingers grazed against his cheeks, gaze travelling from one end to the other of his face.

"Do you still think I’m cute?"

"One more word and I'll add a bruise on the other eye," you gave him a side eye and he only responded with a chuckle, patting the empty spot beside him and you complied, sitting down and your shoulder touched his, leaving zero space between the both of you.

“What happened?” you hissed, staring pointedly at him as your hands dug through the items in the first aid kit.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Heeseung grunted, nodding at your actions and you only returned an unamused look.

“I do, now stop avoiding my question,” you hissed, applying some ointment on his knuckles, causing him to flinch in pain, face screwed in discomfort. “What happened, Hee? I saw,”

Heeseung was reluctant, but he gave in eventually, anger evident in his gaze and tone. “It was your ex,”

“I know you are rivals, but you could’ve just ignored him—”

“No, you don't get it, I can’t! He was talking shit about you,” Heeseung ran a hand through his hair in frustration, adam apple bobbing as he tried not to burst out. "'Go back to that slut', 'do you enjoy my leftovers'. I can't just continue playing after the shit he said, there's no way I'll stand there and do nothing,"

"It's okay, Hee—"

"It's not," he huffed, his frown deepened, running a hand across his face. "It's not okay and I wasn't going to let that man call you names and walk free,"

You couldn't resist a smile, your heart thumping against your chest and your gaze softened, placing a hand on his. "Thanks for standing up for me. Really."

"I always will at any time, I care about you, Y/N, and I don't want anything bad happening to you," Heeseung blurted out, his face gradually turning red upon realising his own confession, making sure to seem nonchalant as he switched the topic. "You should've seen his face when I actually punched him. He was all talk only,"

"He's like that, unfortunately," you sighed as you finished wrapping some compressible bandages over his knuckles, whispering a quick 'sorry' when he winced.

“Honestly if you keep pulling these tricks on ice, I might think you’re into me,” you added boldly, referring to the other time where he dedicated a goal to you and he, too, realised the same, the tip of his ears turning a slight red.

“What if I told you I am?”

“Oh, I know,”

Heeseung leaned back, an amused grin plastered on his face. You couldn't tell if he's glad you knew or if he's in horror. "Am I that obvious? Am I too transparent?"

"Well, would you rather me be dumb and not take the hint?"

"Definitely not that," Heeseung leaned back closer to you, letting you clean the small cut on his lips. "I have a feeling someone ratted me out to you,"

"Partially, but I did have a feeling,"

"Motherfucker," he hissed under his breath, then his eyes widened, a look of panic flashed across his face. "So … you know I liked you before this, then do you … like me?"

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief these words were coming from the fuckboy himself. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here," you were finally done patching him up, placing everything back neatly into the box as he watched your every move. "You're fantastic at hockey but you're terrible at feelings, Hee,"

"I'm easily intimidated,"

"I didn't see you being intimidated while fighting,"

"Intimidated by pretty girls, I mean,"

"How charming," you mused, bumping his shoulder softly. "When and how did it even start, I thought you were the type to fuck around,"

"I've noticed you since English class and after some time, I saw you at my games too. I didn't want to approach you since I was worried you'd think of me differently because of my past—"

"Fuckboy-ness?"

"You could put it that way," Heeseung clapped his hands, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. "I just liked you. You were funny at presentations, charming, passionate in things you liked. I wanted to get to know you better and after meeting you, it just … clicked,"

"But at the party, why did you even bother asking my name when you already knew who I was?"

"First impressions matter, Y/N. I didn't want to seem like a whole ass stalker,"

"You could've mentioned that you knew my name from English. 'Oh you're Y/N from English', there,"

"Are you teaching me how to flirt?"

"I'm teaching you how to flirt with me,"

"Alright then," Heeseung turned his body to fully face you now, a look of seriousness on his face. "Y/N from English, I like you. So much till the point where I feel suffocated. I don't care if you'll beat my ass after we lose and I'll listen to all of your analysis, will you go out with me?"

"Yes and I like you too, jackass. Now shut up and kiss me already," you wrapped a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in towards you and attached your lips to his, instantly melting against his touch the moment he snaked a hand across your jaw.

You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt like a dream. His lips were soft, the taste of mint on his tongue lingered, the feeling on his lips on yours was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.

Heeseung broke away momentarily, his forehead remained pressed against yours and you could feel his breath against your lips. "You're really romantic, Y/N,"

"You bet," you giggled in between kisses, your hands pushing him back a little as he practically chased your lips like a starved man. "You should go change,"

"Fuck, you're right," he glanced down at his hockey gear clad body. "It's getting late too, I'll drive you back. Want to stop by a drive through? I told you tonight's my treat,"

"I'm down,"

"Let me get my clothes, wait here," Heeseung stood up, ready to walk away but halting abruptly. "Tomorrow night, dinner, is that okay?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"It's whatever you like,"

"Pick me up at 7,"

"On it," Heeseung nodded slowly, taking note of it mentally. "Also, does Yunjin want some food too?"

"If you buy her some, you'll immediately be on her good list, just saying,"

"You two are so alike, it's scary,"

"We're besties for a reason."

IT'S BEEN FIVE MONTHS EVER SINCE THAT NIGHT IN THE LOCKER room. You remembered coming home with Heeseung tailing behind you after, a bag of food in his hands and a welcoming Yunjin greeting him at the door.

"You two finally kissed, didn't you?" Yunjin mentioned carelessly in between bites of her burger and you swore you saw Heeseung's soul escaping his body. "That's the shade of lipstick Y/N wears on the side of your lips,"

Heeseung's hand flew to the side of his lips, touching the spot where you gave him a small peck of encouragement before getting off of the car.

"I'm glad you two are together," Yunjin continued, not noticing the flushed state you and Heeseung were in. "It's been months—oh God, I need to tell Jake this,"

And she did, leading to Jake calling you up the day after where he basically shouted through the phone. Since then, you had a plus one to every football game Jake played in.

"You guys are so annoying," Yunjin grimaced at the sight of Heeseung leaning his head onto your shoulder.

It was currently a Saturday night just after Heeseung's playoff match in which he scored three goals, so now, the team and your friends were at a nearby bar celebrating the victory.

"Stop being jealous," Heeseung defended, dropping his voice and closing in. "That's why I told you to go for Jay,"

"Him? Only God can put up with him, I barely know him and I already couldn't stand him,"

"Someone will eventually," you shrugged, taking a sip out of your mocktail.

"Good luck to them," Jake mumbled, holding his cup up for a toast and downed it all within the next second.

The night ended with a very drunk Yunjin along with many other drunk hockey players stumbling over their feet. Jake offered to take Yunjin home and she could only splutter out some responses, while you and Heeseung went by yourselves.

"If we can win the playoffs, I'll literally explode," Heeseung was currently the happiest man in the world, one hand holding his girlfriend while the other was close to touching the playoff trophy. He could ask for nothing more.

"It'll happen, Hee," you assured, running your thumb across his finger softly. "It's bound to happen, the team is strong. You have to believe my analysis too,"

"Pfft, fairs, your analysis does always hit the spot,"

"See? I'm always right,"

"Yeah yeah," Heeseung chuckled, pulling the car to park once you've arrived at your dorm's carpark and you two just sat there naturally, a sense of ambiance in the air as the radio played quietly in the background.

"I love you,"

Those three words were the first to break the silence. Heeseung looked like he was in disbelief although he was the one who said it first. Meanwhile, you were starting to smile like a fool.

"Did I—"

"I love you too, you idiot," you grabbed his face before he could continue, knowing well he'll end up rambling in the end. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, earning a stunned look from him until he eventually returned the favour.

"Was it too soon?" He mumbled against your lips as he gradually pulled away.

"I was actually wondering when you'll crack,"

"Fuck off," he scoffed, squeezing your cheek gently upon seeing your playful smirk. His gaze softened, eyes evidently filled with affection, anyone could literally vouch for how whipped this man was."I love you, stay by me forever, please,"

"Say less, captain."

Hockey boys might've scared you once, but this time, one of them ended up mending your broken heart and won you over instead, and thankfully, he was here to stay. For a long time.

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