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chaconnehoonie · 5 months

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BFFS- S.JY & P.SH

♡ Sunghoon x Fem! reader x Jake

Synopsis: Your best friends show you how real men treat women.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, threesome, cursing, Jakehoon call reader princess a lot

Smut warnings: Kissing, oral(f&m), handjobs, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, slight manhandling, squirting, cream pie, reader maybe almost passes out, aftercare(i love)

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This took me three days to write,, pls bear with me as I figure out my writing style. Jakehoon have me going brain dumb and I rlly needed to write this to get it out of my system, enjoy!

You slouched back in your seat, lolling your head to the side to watch the scenery as big open fields pass by quickly. Sighing in disappointment of your “girls day” gone wrong.

“Okay- what do you mean the Airbnb was cancelled? How do you even cancel one of those?” Sunghoon whines in the front seat while giving Jake directions to the nearest hotel. A real passenger princess, he is.

Jake’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, irritated at the faulty trip plan he had made for the three of you. “I don’t know.” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t the one that canceled it. The host did, said something about a family emergency.”

Your eyes grow lazy as the sun sets, watching as the calming twilight takes over the sky. You couldn’t care any less about the Airbnb, just wanting to settle into the nearest bed and relax. So, when Jake finally pulls into the parking lot of the nearest hotel, you’re the first one to hop out of the car.

“Jesus, this place is scary.” You whisper to yourself but Sunghoon picks up on it, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “Sorry, Princess. I know this trip was supposed to be for you to relax and let go but we’re on a bit of a delay. The fun can start tomorrow.” He ruffles your hair a bit before you pull away to grab your suitcase. “Don’t even worry about it.”

He takes your suitcase in his hand while also holding his own, forearm flexing under his expensive Tiffany bracelet. “Seriously, Y/N. I’m sorry it’s not going as planned.” Jake is frowning next to you as you walk to the front desk and you shake your head at him. “Please, guys. I know you’re trying your best to make me feel better.”

You turn back to Sunghoon who is now holding your room key, ushering you to the fragile looking stairs that creak under each step. “Room 127.” He mutters out as you turn the corner, nodding his head towards the very end of a long hallway of doors.

Grabbing the key from him to run ahead of them, you open the creaky door to let them in first. “Thanks, Princess.” Jake follows behind Sunghoon through the threshold, kissing your temple in gratitude.

They both huff as they set down the luggage, immediately scanning the room to analyze your living situation. There’s two small beds with a nightstand between, an old CRT TV that probably doesn’t work, a scary painting of a cottage in a forest on the wall next to the bathroom door, and a tiny kitchen with only a small counter, mini fridge, and a table for two.

“Well,” Sunghoon sighs, plopping down onto a bed, “Let’s get comfy.” He smiles and even if this hotel is old and creepy, his grin makes you feel like you’re home. “Thank you, guys.” You’re hit with a sudden sense of sadness and guilt. “I know you guys like trips but this was so last minute because of me and I feel bad for making you guys go through this.”

Jake sits down next to Sunghoon, grabbing one of your hands to lead you to stand in front of them. “Don’t even worry about it. We planned this for you. No best friend of mine is going to get cheated on and then rot in bed for all of eternity.” Sunghoon nods in agreement, taking your other hand in his. “That’s right. We’re for lifers and I’d be an asshole to leave my bestie in the dirt just because she got a little closed off and depressed.”

You squeeze both of their hands, smiling down at their big, loving eyes. “You guys are sweet.” You feel a lump in your throat starting to form, and get suddenly too embarrassed of being emotional to be serious, “But you need to stop with the TikTok slang, I can’t take it seriously.” You joke and they both grin at your attempt to be funny, different from your recently quiet and moody personality.

“Why don’t you go take a shower and when we’re all done washing up, we can put a movie on my laptop, hm?” Sunghoon stands up and Jake follows, leading all three of you to check out the bathroom. As expected, the area is small with just a sink, toilet, and small shower. “Good thing I brought my own soaps.”

Just as you turn to grab your garment bag, a large cockroach is running across the floor and Jake is quick to step on it, hearing the loud splat as it’s squished against the tile. “Wow, I am not sleeping tonight”.

♡.

You mindlessly scroll through social media as your best friends are focused on the horror movie playing on the small screen in front of you, huddled up in a big blanket that’s covering them from head to toe, save for their eyes. All three of you are laying on your stomachs, and you’d feel them jerk and hear small squeals every now and then as they get scared, then teasing each other for being pussies which results in them rolling around on the bed trying to push each other off.

You sigh as you click on a certain story that makes your stomach drop, the video audio blasting as music plays through speakers and your screen flashes bright colorful lights while people dance and grind on each other.

“What are you doing? You’re not even watching the movie!” Jake nudges your side and you nudge him back, pushing him into Sunghoon who is laying next to him. “Yeah, we put this on for you!” Sunghoon joins in on the whining, reaching over Jake to steal your phone. “What are you looking at anyways-” He cuts himself off as he watches the video on your phone, suddenly tapping on the person’s profile. “Your ex? Seriously?”

You sink further into the bed with guilt, avoiding eye contact with the both of them as they stare at you in disbelief. “Why haven’t you blocked him yet?” Jake sounds hurt by this, maybe because you promised him you’d block the man after you left him. “I-I don’t know,” You huff, “I can’t just let go of him like that.” You watch the way Sunghoon’s jaw clenches in anger, then relaxes as he starts speaking again. “Y/N, he cheated on you. He doesn’t love you and you shouldn’t be trying to hold onto him like that anymore.” He doesn’t sound angry, but it’s serious enough to hit you where it hurts, taking a deep breath as tears start blurring your vision.

Before you have time to process it, Jake sits up and pulls you into his lap, sitting you sideways on one of his thighs. “You know he’s not trying to be rude.” He cups your face and wipes the falling tears away with his thumb. “We just want what’s best for you, and that asshole is definitely not the best.” Sunghoon hums in agreement, placing a hand on the back of your head and petting you soothingly.

“Let us show you how a real man treats his girl.” Sunghoon’s voice is low, almost a whisper and you can feel his breath on your neck. “W-what?” You sniffle, wiping any tears left on your cheek. “You heard me, babe. Let us make you feel good.” He pulls you off of Jake’s lap, laying you on the bed and kneels on one side of you as Jake kneels on the other side.

They both watch you with big, hopeful eyes, patiently waiting for your answer. You could moan just from the way they devour you with their gaze, so you decide to nod in agreement instead. Jake immediately leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips gently against yours while his hands hold your face. Sunghoon’s hands trail up your thighs and hips to hold your waist, pushing under your cropped tank top to grip your skin softly.

You moan quietly against Jake’s lips and he smiles at the way you’re easily relaxing into two pairs of hands. Sunghoon shifts lower, getting comfortable between your legs as he massages the flesh of your thighs. You moan into the kiss again, this time parting your lips slightly, but enough for Jake to slip his tongue through. At the first brush of his tongue against yours you stiffen, hands coming up to grip his hair.

Sunghoon softly squeezes your hip, grabbing your attention away from Jake and you pull away from the kiss with a string of saliva connecting your lips, blushing lightly at the vulgar image. Looking down at Sunghoon, he’s dangerously close to your core, with just your pajama bottoms and underwear in the way. “Can I take these off?” He asks softly, as if trying to make you as comfortable as possible. You whisper out a “yes” and Sunghoon smiles before pressing a kiss to your clothed thigh.

You look back up at Jake who is now groping you from over your thin tank top, watching the way your breasts squish under the weight of his palm. Your back arches slightly, pushing your chest closer to him while you pull him down for another kiss. His mouth opens as soon as your lips touch, letting you stick your tongue in and kiss him nasty enough for spit to trail down your chin and onto your neck.

Jake pulls away, kissing down your cheek to your jaw and neck, lapping at the saliva trail and sucking harshly at the joint of your neck and shoulder. Your back arches higher, grinding your hips against nothing as you realize Sunghoon has gotten your lower half completely bare. You pull your hands away from Jake and shoot up, covering yourself and blushing shyly.

“C‘mon, Princess, show me your pretty pussy.” He nips at your thigh, lightly tapping them to encourage you. Hesitantly, you spread your legs open as he stares down, licking his lips and smirking proudly. “That’s my girl.” He lifts off of his stomach to hover above you, knees on either side of you as Jake takes his spot between your legs. They moved so swiftly you almost didn’t realize that it was Sunghoon you were now kissing.

The way his lips move against yours is different than Jake, softer and less messy but just as hungry. He places his hands on your boobs, softly pinching one nipple and rolling it between his fingers. “A-ah” You whimper into his mouth, lightly biting his bottom lip and he whimpers back in response, shooting butterflies straight down to your core. Jake watches as more slick spills out of you, his cock large and heavy straining against his sweats.

He wastes no time, blowing cold air against your cunt and giving you no chance to complain about teasing as he licks a long stripe up your slit and retracts his tongue back into his mouth to hum at the taste. You shudder at the feeling of him softly kissing your clit, poking his tongue out to gently flick it against you as you press your body up and against Sunghoon.

He takes this as an invitation to continue undressing you, lifting your shirt over your head and staring holes into your chest. Before you can cover yourself again, he catches you and pins your arms above your head with one hand, while the other grabs your face, squishing your cheeks hard enough for your lips to plump up. “God, you’re beautiful.” He leans back down, kissing you softly and pulling away with a smack.

Behind him, Jake is sucking and licking every part of you he can, letting mixes of your slick and his saliva run down his chin and smear on his face. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks harshly. “Fuck- Jake, oh my god.” You moan loudly, pulling Sunghoon closer so he can kiss all over your chest, sucking dark purple and red bruises against your skin.

You assume this is what heaven is. Two hot men kissing and sucking on the most sensitive and intimate parts of you, their hands roaming all over your body to squeeze whatever they feel. You almost forgot that they’re your best friends.

Sunghoon pulls you out of your thoughts as he flicks his tongue over your nipple, softly taking it into his mouth and sucking on it desperately. This sends you over the edge, suddenly feeling too close to your orgasm that your thighs start to tingle and your breathing is unsteady. “Holy shit, g-gonna cum.” You barely have time to warn them before your thighs are closing around Jake’s head, one hand in his hair and the other in Sunghoon’s as he drools against your chest.

“That’s it, baby. Let him taste you.” Sunghoon groans into your ear, his length growing impossibly harder as you lose yourself. Jake doesn’t let go of your clit, instead going further and slipping a finger inside of you easily. “Jesus, you’re soaking.” He smiles as more slick spills out of you, wetting the bed and trailing down his forearm.

“Ah! Too much!” You whine as Jake starts curling his finger, never letting your clit leave his mouth. “It’s okay princess, have to get you prepped for us.” He adds another finger, moaning against your heat at the way he easily slips his digits in, curling them up as your hips chase the feeling.

Sunghoon takes your hand that’s in his hair and trails it down his body, landing on his hard-on. You look up at him as his eyebrows are furrowed, lip caught between his teeth as you gently palm him through his pants. “Go on, take it out.” He wiggles his hips cutely and you nod eagerly.

You fumble with his belt, having to stop a few times to moan and grind against Jake’s fingers. You finally loosen it, popping open the button and unzipping so you can tug his pants down his thighs aggressively. “Relax, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” You blush and look back up at him, and he can’t help but cup your face, using his thumb to play with your bottom lip. You stick your tongue out to lick the top of his finger and the sight is overwhelming.

He mutters a quiet “fuck” and stumbles off of the bed, pulling his jeans and boxers down before hopping back onto the bed and kneeling at your side again. You take his length in your hand, going cross eyed at how close it is to your face. He’s huge, and you’re starting to doubt your ability to please him. You inhale deeply, softly stroking him just enough to keep him content as you gather yourself.

You don’t notice the way he smiles down at you, taking in just how sexy you look holding his cock while being stuffed with Jake’s mouth and fingers. He’s never admit, however, how many times he’d jerked off imagining this situation or how many times he planned something like this with Jake.

You lean foward to kiss his bare thigh, leading a trail up to his base and up his shaft, then leaving one final kiss on his tip. He throws his head back at the soft feeling, already sensitive and ready to cum on your pretty face. Jake reaches impossibly deep inside of you and you can’t help the loud moan that escapes, warm breath fanning against Sunghoon’s length. He visibly stiffens before grabbing his cock and swiping it across your lips, coating them with shiny pre-cum.

You stick your tongue out just enough to taste him, but not enough to fit him inside your mouth and he groans at your teasing. The sound is enough to send a shock through your body, bringing you to your second orgasm. “Oh, fuckfuckfuck-“ you’re barely able to moan before Sunghoon quickly slides his cock into your mouth, forcing you to gag and choke through your orgasm.

Quickly pulling off, you take a deep breath before shoving Sunghoon back in your mouth, taking half of him down and jerking off the rest while Jake laps up the mess between your thighs. Your thighs start to shake, closing shut around Jake’s head again, attempting to shove him off of you with your free hand. Of course, he doesn’t let up and just uses his strength to force your thighs back open, this time hooking his arms around them to shove his face back in.

He aims straight for your rim, cleaning the mess that’s still leaking from your cunt. It’s a new sensation, something you haven’t tried out before, although now you’re not opposed to trying it again sometime. Who knows, maybe a second time with your best friend.

You gag loudly as Sunghoon’s hips snap and he shoves himself deeper into your mouth, but he halts when you don’t complain and instead take him deeper, testing how far you can take him until you’re reaching the base and nuzzling your nose against his patch of hair.

You breathe in through your nose to keep yourself there longer, saliva pooling in your mouth and spilling out onto your chin and down Sunghoon’s girth. “Fuck, babe, you’re nasty.” He pulls away suddenly, forcing himself out of your mouth and you get the chance to finally moan, acknowledging Jake and letting him know you haven’t forgotten about him.

How could you forget about him, with the way he laps from your soaking cunt to your rim, eating you out like he’s been starved his whole life. You even catch a glimpse of him rutting his hips against the bed, chasing any friction he can to soothe his aching cock.

“Jake” you rasp out, pulling his head up to look you in the eyes. The way his hair is messy and his eyes are wide and needy is almost enough to make you cum a third time. “You must be hurting…” you nod your head towards him, motioning to his very obvious painful boner. “Let me help.” He wants to reject you, feeling guilty after promising he’ll take care of you, why make you return the favor?

With the way you look at him with pleading eyes, though, he doesn’t hesitate to undo his sweats, pulling them straight down along with his boxers, and then reaches for the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Sunghoon does the same, using his own shirt to wipe the spit from your chin and neck.

Settling on his knees the same way Sunghoon is, he’s already breathing heavy just from imagining you touching him. So, when you take him in your hand and rub your thumb over his slit, he’s letting out a loud whine that has you craving more. You stroke Sunghoon in one hand while leaning towards Jake to take his tip in your mouth. He immediately bucks his hips forward, then pulls all the way back to apologize.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry- ahh!” You don’t care about his apology, only wanting to hear more of his needy whines as you lick from his base to tip, suckling on the head and looking up to catch his reaction. Just seeing him looking so wrecked just from a few seconds of touching has you moaning around his cock, stroking Sunghoon faster with a tight grip.

Sunghoon thrusts his hips, chasing your fist with every pull and tug, his groans and curses raising in volume each time. Meanwhile Jake’s eyes close tightly, one hand resting on the back of your head while the other holds your cheek, feeling the way it hollows as you take him down your throat. The image is far from unholy. Sitting there, taking one cock down your throat while jerking another.

Feeling bad for Sunghoon, you release Jake but continue stroking him, turning to take Sunghoon in your mouth. “Fuck, just like that. Pretty mouth knows exactly what to do, hm?” His praises make you whine, grinding your own hips down on the bed but missing any possible friction.

Of course, even after two orgasms you crave more. You need more whines and moans from both of them, showing you just how good you make them feel.

You turn back to Jake, taking his cock all the way down your throat, staying there, letting the drool spill from the corners of your mouth as tears do the same from your eyes. He’s choking out a moan, strings of curses falling upon deaf ears as you put your sole focus on getting him to finish. You know exactly what you need to do.

Pulling your head back, you gently lift his cock to stroke it as you turn your neck to lick and suck at his balls. His hips halt, thighs shaking as he grips your hair painfully rough. “God, Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, legs continuing to shake as you take him back into your mouth, running your tongue across his slit until he’s filling your mouth with cum.

His whines seem to set something off in Sunghoon, who’s now cursing loudly as he shoots his own ropes of cum across your cheek and down your neck and chest. You don’t know why all it took was Jake to climax for him to finally cum, but maybe you’ll ask him about that another time.

They both stay kneeling, catching their breaths as you fall onto your back against the pillows, legs weak but still sticky between your thighs. “We’re not done, baby.” Jake leans down to peck your lips when he notices your worried look. Falling next to you, he lays down and pulls you on top of him, hands soothing down your sides in a comforting way.

He pulls your face down for another kiss, breaking it to speak lowly in your ear. “Want me to fuck you?” You already know you’re spilling down your thighs again, looking down to watch the way your pussy sits perfectly on his still hard length. You don’t reply, instead grinding down and forward, sliding yourself against him.

“Yeah? Think you can take it?” You’re in a trance from the way he’s speaking to you, holding you, like you’re precious to him. You nod eagerly, sitting up on your knees to rub his tip across your slit, hearing the slick noises of your arousal. Taking a deep breath, you slowly ease him into you, sitting down and wincing at the way he impales you just from a few inches.

Jake’s face is angelic, eyebrows slightly furrowed but his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, turning white at how hard he’s biting. You finally sit all the way down, feeling him twitch inside of you as you slowly rock your hips, falling forward to moan in his neck. His hands tightly grip your waist, holding you still as he pulls out then slides himself back in, throwing his head back in a loud moan.

You thrust yourself down, meeting his own thrusts halfway as he picks up the pace, low skin slapping sounds filling the room. You completely forgot that Sunghoon was behind you, until his hands are palming your butt, and his lips find their place on your back. His gentle kisses up your spine give you chills, clenching down on Jake who whimpers at the sensation.

“Think you can take both of us?” Sunghoon kisses your ear, giving you no time to respond as he stands back up to do something from behind you that you can’t see. “What?” You ask in a small voice, but it’s answered right away when you feel him spit onto the crack of your ass, saliva sliding down and coating your rim.

You try to turn around but Jake pulls you back into a harsh kiss, tongue massaging your own and pulling whines from your throat. He distracts you enough for you to forget about Sunghoon again, while he gently prods his tip at your entrance. “Hoon! What are you- ah!” You’re cut off as he easily slides in, the new sensation knocking your breath out of you.

“Ever take it in the ass, baby?” He leans down to peck your cheek, slowly inching himself in with each thrust. Once he’s fully inside, he pulls back out to the tip just to slam himself back inside. Jake takes this as the green light to also thrust into you again, bucking his hips up at the same pace as Sunghoon.

If you thought you were in heaven earlier, you wouldn’t know what to call this. This act of whatever love or lust this is. Perhaps it was just your friends’ way of declaring their love for you. Or, just trying to prove how a man should treat you, how he should fuck you. You can’t complain though, having both holes filled by big, girthy cocks is something you thought you could only dream of.

And as Jake sensually sucks on your lower lip, and Sunghoon is leaving dark hickeys on your neck, you think you might be in love. With both of them.

One particular thrust from Sunghoon has him throwing you foward and onto Jake’s chest, crying out in pleasure while his grip on your hips is painful. He leans down, keeping one hand on your hip as the other arm is crossing your chest, catching your neck between his forearm and bicep, puling you back up to kneeling with Jake still inside of your cunt.

With your back pressed to Sunghoon’s chest and his length deep inside your ass, you bounce harder, faster, both of them filling you so pleasurably you cry out, tears falling from your eyes as you scream with a horse voice. “Fuck- God, yes! I’m c-cumming!” You go silent with your jaw slack as your orgasm washes over you, every inch of your body tingling as you clench impossibly tight on both of them, with just the sound of light splashing and skin slapping keeping you conscious.

Your eyes are closed but you can feel the way Jake stops thrusting, filling you with his thick warm liquid and Sunghoon soon follows, releasing himself into your hole enough to have it dripping past your rim and back onto himself.

You collapse onto your butt next to Jake, noticing the large wet spot left on the bed covers. “Did…did I do that?” You ask shyly, blushing as Sunghoon nods and kneels next to you, pulling you to lay down with him and spooning you while you wrap one arm around Jake’s abdomen.

You feel like you’ve truly ascended, as if this is the universe’s way of rewarding you for every good deed you’ve committed. Having two warm men holding onto you, kissing you, loving you like you deserve. You’d take this any day, even if it’s with your best friends.

#enhypen smut #enhypen x female reader #park sunghoon smut #sim jaeyun smut #sunghoon smut #jake smut

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jjunieworld · 7 months

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don’t delete the kisses ｡ﾟ🎶 ⋆₊

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, ex-bestfriends to lovers, ex bff!beomgyu, musician!beomgyu, mutual (unknown) pining, fluff if you squint, non-idol!au, alcohol/drinking

synopsis: two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu. two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends. now he’s an up and coming musician and you see his face and hear his music almost everywhere in your local city; not knowing that the songs he writes are about you.

warnings: tipsy sex (consensual), soft sex basically, lots of yearning, unprotected sex (wrap it then tap it), oral (f. rec), kinda service top!beomgyu, slight overstimulation (m. rec), beomgyu is really just catering to y/n, some hair pulling (m. rec), multiple orgasms, creampie, petnames (baby), aftercare

word count: 9.3k┊v-day event masterlist┊masterlist

a/n: based off don’t delete the kisses by wolf alice and part three of my v-day event! i didn’t mean for this to be 9.3k omg. be glad i didn’t have the party hosted by jackson wang lmao.. sorry if the lyrics are kinda bad i am nawt a songwriter (there’s no like certain tune to them so reading them regularly is fine)! this beomgyu is the one i was imagining in this (he’s sooo fucking pretty). i hope you enjoy! ♡

two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu.

it was a jarring realization; realizing that you’ve been harboring these slowly growing feelings for him all this time. it was as if one day the house was empty and the next all of the furniture and decorations were displayed and put up. like beomgyu had lived in the recesses of your mind all this time and you’ve never even known.

your acceptance was gradual, mainly because you had buried yourself in your studies along with beomgyu so you didn’t spend as much time together as you both would have wanted. he was studying music, his passion since before you’ve even known him, and you were studying writing. beomgyu was working on his debut ep and you were working on your debut novel.

you had noticed it when you started to realize how much the love interest in your novel reminded you of him. and then how much of your love interest actually was beomgyu, down to similarities in their physical description. it was a moment that beomgyu himself was present for, surprisingly.

beomgyu was sitting on your couch, strumming chords lightly and humming softly to himself as he polished up one of the songs he was writing. you were in the corner of the room at your desk, proofreading the chapter you had just written. a gasp had left your lips as you stared wide eyed at the bright white screen in front of you.

the strumming abruptly stopped as beomgyu turned to you, “what is it?” you bit down on your bottom lip as you read the paragraph over and over again. you saw him shift in the corner of your eye and knew he was about to come and see for himself. quickly, you changed the tab to the one that held your outline. “it’s nothing,” you turned, smiling over at him. “just realized that i accidentally created a huge plot hole…” beomgyu chuckled before returning back to his song.

that night, you had read over everything you’ve written so far in a flurry. beomgyu was everywhere in your novel. from the main character to the side characters to the love interest. there was no escaping him.

“shit,” you muttered as you trailed a hand down your face, throwing your laptop onto your bed as you got up to get a drink from the kitchen. tiptoeing past beomgyu’s room in your shared apartment, you reached the kitchen quietly, hopeful that you didn’t somehow wake him.

turns out that was pointless since beomgyu was leaning against the counter, eyes trained on you. you jumped and threw a hand against your chest. “why aren’t you asleep?!” you whisper-yelled, even though there was no need since it was only the two of you in the apartment. beomgyu grinned, putting the cup he was holding to his lips, “why aren’t you?” he spoke softly as well and you walked over to join him.

beomgyu shined hazily in the orange stove light and you took a sip from the glass of alcohol you poured as you looked at him. the two of you stood there for a moment, quietly taking in each other’s presence.

“so why are you awake? it’s almost four in the morning,” beomgyu asked quietly as he broke the silence. you looked towards the living room and took another sip from your glass. “i was proofreading… you?” you asked, looking back to him. “songwriting,” beomgyu responded. you hummed, nodding a little. “wanna hear what i have so far?” he then asked. you nodded more and he led you to his room.

beomgyu’s laptop was open on his bed, all kinds of cords connected to it. his guitar was strewn across it, like he had tossed it on his bed haphazardly in frustration. beomgyu picked the guitar up and sat it back on it’s stand near the wall. sitting on his bed, he patted the spot next to him so you could join. then, he put the headphones over your head and pressed play on his laptop.

music traveled through your ears. it was just the instrumental, but already you could tell how beautiful the song was gonna be. you looked over at him, a proud smile on your face when suddenly you heard his voice. it was only soft background vocals, the ones that you could barely make out, but it sounded heavenly. when the music ended, your smile stretched from ear to ear and you raised your hands to cover it. “that was beautiful, beomgyu! seriously!”

he gave you an unsure look, “is it? i’m not really sure about it. i feel like it might mess with the flow of the ep…” you shook your head rapidly, the headphones almost coming off. “no you have to keep it, it’s amazing! it’s gonna be even better once you add your voice.”

beomgyu beamed as he took in your words. “i gotta hear it again,” you grinned, pressing play on the laptop. you faintly heard beomgyu’s laugh behind the music.

you would give anything for all of your nights—or early mornings—to be exactly like this. the two of you here together, side by side. laughing together and sharing your passions together. to stay with beomgyu until the very end.

two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends.

just like you admitting and realizing your feelings for him, it was sudden. as sudden as storm clouds slowly passing over the sky and the fury of rain could be. it was late morning and the two of you were on your couch; beomgyu’s guitar in his lap and you sitting next to him as he strummed. he was playing one of the finished songs he had written, the one he had written for you. beomgyu had called it ‘graze.’

“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” you sung the lyrics together. beomgyu smiled warmly at you.

beomgyu had given you some insight into the lyrics he had written. the first part, “her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss,” was about the day you had first spoken. it was senior year of highschool and the two of you were paired together on a project. you were meeting somewhere to work on it, but you accidentally walked past the meeting place, completely passing by beomgyu unaware.

the next part, “when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” is when the two of you had gotten close; close enough to share secrets and comfort each other through the thoughts they consumed. everytime the two of you texted, you would end the conversation off with an ‘xxx.’ kisses. it had become your thing with beomgyu, so much so that he wrote it into his song.

when the song had ended, beomgyu suddenly perked up. “let me show you the song i’ve been working on! the one i showed you the other day,” he exclaimed. he started strumming chords, humming softly as he began the song. “i only have, like, one lyric for it right now,” he interjected as he continued strumming.

“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind…” beomgyu sang to the tune of his guitar. your smile faltered, but you managed to put it back in tact as beomgyu glanced up from his guitar to ask for your opinion. it was a love song he was writing. a love song for someone that wasn’t you.

“it’s beautiful, like all of your songs are. i like the new addition! how long have you been working on it?” you smiled, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. beomgyu began to blush as he turned to set his guitar aside, moving his hair over his ears. the tips of them were red. “for a little bit now. i just can’t seem to find the words of the feelings i want to convey,” he replied.

your glass heart shattered, it’s pieces making its way into your bloodstream. piercing pieces dug into beomgyu’s skin. “who’s the lucky person?” you asked, swallowing hard. he turned back to you and smirked. “just someone i’ve known for a while... i think we’re really starting to hit it off!”

after that day, you started to distance yourself from beomgyu. at first, it was only your feelings. limiting the amount of times you touched in any way or adding space between your bodies when you were near each other. then, it was almost as if the two of you were strangers living in the same place.

beomgyu had definitely noticed. you could feel his lingering look at the back of your neck. hear his questions in the air that hangs between you. but your feelings just wouldn’t go away. maybe they were right when they said that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

you locked yourself in your room, working on and rewriting your book over and over again. trying—and failing horribly—to remove beomgyu from the caverns of it. nothing worked, but you were desperate.

one day, beomgyu was playing his guitar a little too loud while you were in your room writing. usually, this wouldn’t be a problem at all. beomgyu always made sure not to be too noisy when you were writing, even though you always told him how much it helped you to have the background music. but this time, this time was different.

you were frustrated, agitated, still deep in love, and still deep in the great unreciprocated. you had flung your door open and stormed into the living room where he was playing and yelled at him to stop.

beomgyu looked up at you with wide, shocked eyes. it was dead silent for a moment, not even the sound of your breathing was heard. too late you realized what you had done. silently, beomgyu collected his things and made his way to his room, not sparing you a single glance or even a murmur. you watched him, an apology, an excuse on your lips.

the next day after you came home from researching at the library, you found a single note from him that was left on the kitchen counter. “i can’t live here with a stranger anymore,” was all it said. finally, you noticed how empty the apartment looked. how empty it looked for a while now. beomgyu was gone, and it was all your fault.

today, you could barely walk the streets of your city without seeing his face or hearing his music.

“UP AND COMING!” the article’s title had read as they delved into an interview with your former best friend. you pushed the laptop away, even after these two years apart you couldn’t face him. not even through a screen. couldn’t face how you tore your friendship apart because you couldn’t control your own feelings. maybe love just wasn’t meant for you.

you heard a sigh from next to you. “just read it!” your friend, yeonjun, drawled. “you’re mentioned.” you let out a sigh yourself with a roll of your eyes as you grabbed the laptop. “if i’m mentioned, it’s not gonna be something good.”

you scrolled down the article until you got to the part where beomgyu got interviewed. most of the questions were about his debut album and upcoming tour. you haven’t listened to any of his songs since he released his ep. hearing his voice was just too much. your eyes stopped on a question that mentioned one of the songs from his debut ep; your song.

Q. one of your more, if not most, popular song is a song called ‘graze.’ can you give us some input into what the song is about? how you came up with it? BEOMGYU: i actually had written the song for someone who i was very close to at the time. originally, the song was about the dynamics of our friendship. but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics. speaking of the lyrics, when i wrote the song i had come up with them first and the rest just kinda flowed after that. it was the first song that i had finished for my ep, and the one i was most proud of. i’m really happy that a lot of people enjoy the song!

you inhaled sharply at his answer. “but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics.” you weren’t expecting him to hold fondness for you after everything, after all this time, but his response did sting.

Q. you mentioned how the meaning of the song lyrics changed, does that tie into the title of the song? was ‘graze’ a double meaning this whole time? BEOMGYU: i guess you could say that! there wasn’t a double meaning at the beginning, but alas… to graze means to be scraped lightly in passing, to break the surface of the skin. but it also means to touch, to caress. to slightly damage or to gently touch.

Q. it also means to take in small quantities at frequent, did you know that? BEOMGYU: i didn’t! see how meanings can change!

blinking the tears brimming in the corner of your eyes away, you look back over to yeonjun. he looked at you with eyebrows raised and you shrugged at him. what did he want you to say? that you missed him? you did. that you wish things were different between the two of you? you do. what is that going to change?

“he mentioned the song he wrote! for you!” yeonjun exclaimed. you shrugged again, “he mentioned the song he wrote for someone he used to be close with. like he said, things change.” yeonjun groaned as he fell into the pillows on your bed.

shortly after beomgyu had moved out, you moved into a smaller, one bedroom apartment. it was eating away at you inside looking at how empty and lifeless your apartment you had shared with beomgyu looked. you couldn’t take how everywhere you looked, a memory of the two of you followed.

“he’s having a show at the arena downtown. we’re going,” yeonjun stated. your eyes widened and you furiously shook your head. “no… no i can’t.” two years and you crossed the street if there was a poster of him up next to the sidewalk. two years and you went everywhere with headphones, music blasting in your ears to cover his playing softly throughout the city. you couldn’t see him face to face. couldn’t watch as his smile faltered and his eyes lost their emotion as he looked at you.

yeonjun reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets, “it’s too late, i already got the tickets. i can’t watch anymore as the two of you avoid each other. it’s been two years and not once have i seen the both of you in the same room let alone on the same block.” you put your face into your hands as you leaned over onto the bed, groaning loudly.

somehow you forgot that beomgyu and yeonjun were also friends. close friends at that. the two of them were friends before you and beomgyu were. you wanted to curse at the sky. “and don’t even try to find some way out of it either. i will drag you there kicking and screaming if i have to.” yeonjun added.

“but i have to finish writing my bo—“ you started before yeonjun swiftly cut you off. “it’s this weekend, so you have the whole week to prepare yourself.”

when you were alone that night in the comforting isolation of your bedroom, you let yourself scroll through your old messages with beomgyu. let your eyes wander over the ‘xxx’ at the end of your messages. you fingers moved on their own as they began typing out a message.

old apologies, old excuses. you had the nerve to add ‘xxx’ at the end like the two of you were still who you once used to be. you deleted the kisses at the end, deleted the message altogether. it’s not that you would ever send it anyways.

you thought about how your life would be if you and beomgyu weren’t strangers now. if you were more than best friends, getting to know each other again. you imagined late nights of you taking him out to bars in celebration of his new releases. pressing proud kisses to his lips as the alcohol and your love warmed the both of your bodies. shaking your head to yourself, you pushed the thoughts away. no use in daydreaming.

the damning beat of your heart got louder and louder the closer you and yeonjun got to the arena. the closer and closer you got to beomgyu. at the rate your heart was going, the sheer loudness would create a guilty beat for everyone to sing along to.

you handed in your tickets and made your way to the floor. when you read the tickets and saw that they were for the floor, you almost killed yeonjun. you thought you could be sly and sit somewhere in the seats, somewhere where beomgyu wouldn’t have a high possibility of seeing you. you were wrong.

yeonjun grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to the stage. when he tried to pull you right up against the barricade, you pulled away from him and he sighed. the two of you settled close to the stage, but not so close that you’d be touching noses with beomgyu. a compromise.

the lights had dimmed and the crowd had filed in until it was jam packed in the arena. your heart couldn’t help but swell with pride. he did it, he really did. he achieved the one thing he wanted the most, and you couldn’t be prouder of him for it.

the band came on stage and the crowd erupted with cheers and screams from all around you. you looked over to yeonjun, who was cheering along with them. you laughed, the sound being covered, but still there nonetheless. everything only got louder when beomgyu stepped onto the stage. you swear the girl next to you almost passed out.

when you saw him, the spotlight illuminating him—making him look like all of the stars in the sky, it was as if it was only the two of you in the room. the crowd of people around you faded and your breath hitched when he started to look over the crowd with a big warm smile. your face heated and you looked away, hiding so he wouldn’t see you. it’s been a while since you’ve done that.

what were you doing here? what was yeonjun thinking? that he would see you in the crowd and everything would fall into place? that he would call your name and the crowd would part as you made your way to the stage? that he’d take your hand and kiss you in front of everyone, in front of the whole world to see? what a stupid thought.

you wanted to leave but you were trapped from all sides. beomgyu sat on the chair that was placed in the center of the stage, his one and only guitar on his knee that you’ve become so accustomed to. “how is everyone doing tonight? well, i hope!” he said, strumming the strings of his guitar lightly. the crowd erupted again, words barely audible.

shaking your head, you grabbed yeonjun’s arm. “i can't do this, yeonjun. i want to go home.” he turned to you with furrowed eyebrows of worry. the girl next to you gave you an ear to ear smile, “i know right? isn’t he just so dreamy!” in turn, you gave her a barely disguised grimace and turned back to yeonjun. yeonjun laughed at your reaction, “get over it! let him sing to you! we’re staying.” he turned back to the stage and you realized that beomgyu had already began playing a song.

not just any song, the song that he wrote for you. he was singing ‘graze.’ yeonjun smirked at you and you’ve realized you’ve fallen into his trap. vaguely, you remembered that beomgyu always started out his shows with the song he had written for you. you wanted to use his guitar to bash your head in.

“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” beomgyu sang softly to the tune of his guitar. the live band behind him made the song more layered, in a way you haven’t heard since you’ve first heard the finished song.

“under newborn stars, we bear witness, we watched it all begin. i feel the heat of mars, my worn guitar, like her fingers against my skin,” beomgyu continued the song, the crowd singing along with him. you felt glassy tears in your eyes, threatening to fall. you couldn’t open your mouth to sing, not after all of the circumstances, so your heart sang for you. it was quiet, left only for the empty cathedrals of your ribs to echo back to you.

once he stopped singing, the music continued for a moment, letting everyone take in the song. beomgyu closed his eyes against the bright lights, his hands resting on the edge of his guitar. just as the song ended he opened them, an emotion you couldn’t quite make out in his eyes.

“now, for this next one, it took me a long time to write. two years in fact,” beomgyu spoke as he looked around at the crowd, a slight laugh in his tone. his eyes had just missed yours on his journey and you reeled back slightly in shock, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i just couldn’t seem to find the words to the feelings i wanted to convey. but luckily for you all, i managed to find them,” beomgyu smiled as he adjusted his guitar. “this one’s called ‘tattoos on strangers.’”

those words sounded strangely familiar. out of the corner of your eye, you saw yeonjun look over at you as the crowd cheered. you couldn’t even move to look back at him, to ask why he was staring. you were entirely focused on beomgyu. on the way he looked around the crowd with twinkling love in his eyes. the way he fiddled with his guitar like he was antsy to let the music flow out of him. it entranced you, dazzled you, entrapped you.

beomgyu inhaled sharply, the sound catching in the mic in front of him, as he strummed the chords of one of his songs you’ve never heard before. “we’re two moths to a burning flame; they call us icarus. now all that’s left between our bodies is the sinking bitterness. our eyes are on the sky, the lies we tell each other are to blame.” you gasped at how heavenly he sounded. at the melodic symphonies he was creating. at how familiar yet so unfamiliar the song sounded to you.

there was a beat as the live band picked up volume. “we’re waltzing together, we’ve gone too far. but we can’t help ourselves, we’re sinful, we’re brand new burning stars. gravity is starting to pull us closer and closer, you say it’s starting to lead to our demise. but don’t worry, baby, our silence—the heaviness between us, will be the disguise,” beomgyu continued. his eyes were squeezed shut as he sang. it made you wonder who he intended the song to be for if he was reacting this way.

“there’s no need to apologize, we’ve witnessed this before, i know your true name. like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain. too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind. don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time,” beomgyu sang as the song came to an end. suddenly it was as if a light switch lit up the dark room in your brain, a certain lyric ringing bells inside.

“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind,” you understood why the song sounded familiar to you. it was the song beomgyu was working on right before the two of you stopped being bestfriends. another thought hit you so hard that you stumbled back into the person behind you and yeonjun gave you another worried look. you stared back at him, eyes wide open.

two lyrics stood out to you, “like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain,” and “don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time.” you turned to look back up at beomgyu, just as he started singing another song. his eyes were traveling the crowd and at that moment, his eyes connected with yours. they widened and he started to blink rapidly for a second, like he couldn’t believe that you were looking at him.

at the same time, both of your eyes traveled to yeonjun, who in turn gave a sheepish smile. he set the two of you up. desperately you wanted to leave, but yeonjun’s hand around your wrist and the crowd wouldn’t let you.

‘graze’, you knew for a fact was for you, but ‘tattoos on strangers’? there was no denying that he wrote the song about you, down to the referencing lyrics. down to the “don’t delete the kisses at the end.” oh god, you thought, oh god. this whole time… this whole time, he was singing about you. he was singing about you when you thought he was singing about someone else and you ruined it. you ruined everything.

suddenly, it was getting hard to breathe with everyone around you and with beomgyu’s eyes on you. he tried hard to make it look like he wasn’t singling you out, but every couple seconds his eyes would lock on you again. you had no choice but to sit and endure. endure his stare, the slight wildness in his look. endure all the songs from his debut album that you never heard; all of which were about you. all of them. endure the way his heart called out to yours, echoing through his songs, and the way yours called back.

your eyes connect once more—just for the briefest of moments—before you looked away, shyness taking over. your face—no, your whole body—felt like it was on fire. just like a brand new burning star. you felt like all eyes were on you, when in reality all eyes were on him.

finally, you looked up again as he announced the last song in the setlist—‘forethought.’ your eyes meet just as he sings, his eyes only on you, “oh, i hear her voice in the wind sometimes. has she given me any thought? i go back to the pastimes—like wind chimes, it’s not all for naught. my wet knees in the winter, it’s my hopeful crime, it’s my savior... it’s my desperate prayer, i scream out her name into the dying nature—it leads me out the maze so i’m with her. it’s a stranded forethought.” you feel tears well up into your eyes and you see tears well up in beomgyu’s too, hidden by the bright lights to the crowd, but not to you. never to you.

after a moment, he repeats with eyes closed in a silent plea, “don’t linger, don’t linger, light bringer, don’t linger. stay with me—send me your remembrances. please, don’t delete those kisses. don’t linger, light bringer. don’t linger.” the tears fall freely from your eyes at the way his voice softly echoes. echoes just like wind chimes in the blowing wind. you feel yeonjun pull you into a hug as a sob escapes your lips.

you don’t register the concert ending, the crowd getting smaller and smaller until there’s only a few stragglers. you move numbly as yeonjun pulls you along behind him. it’s not until you hear a familiar voice, beomgyu’s voice, that you suddenly come back to life.

yeonjun has taken you backstage. the two of you were making your way over to where beomgyu was standing, talking to someone you didn’t recognize, as he packed up his guitar. again, your eyes met, and you pulled your wrist from yeonjun’s grasp. you turned, wild eyes scanning for an exit as your feet moved without needing your input. “y/n, wait!” you heard voices from behind you. you kept going, the fear pushing you forwards faster.

it wasn’t until you were in front of the night bus, voices behind you as you pushed whatever money you had into the bus driver's hands, that you finally felt like you could breathe. the doors closed and the bus began moving as beomgyu and yeonjun ran up waving frantically. the bus kept moving. you looked through the window, terrified wide eyes reflecting back to you in the glass, at their fading figures. at beomgyu’s dejected eyes and yeonjun’s sorrowful ones. at the breaking of your heart, once again.

sighing heavily to yourself, you faced the front of the bus. what has gotten into you? why would you let yourself think that beomgyu would wait for you after these two long years? it was clear to you that what happened at that concert was a goodbye. and maybe you were okay with that. maybe you didn’t mind. you wiped the tears from your cheeks. it’s okay, you’ve always worked better on your own anyways. without the constant tingling of growing feelings, without the heavy stares that hold so much, without the newborn stars—without beomgyu.

when you get home, you waste no time with the alcohol you have. turning your phone off, locking all your doors and shutting all the curtains. you lay on your bed, drunk out of your mind looking up at the ceiling as you think, what if love’s not meant for me?

five days ago, you went to your ex-bestfriend’s concert and listened as he poured his heart out onto the stage for you; while you ran away from him like the echo of a wind chime in the wind.

beomgyu has taken over your mind. has soared through the mountains of your thoughts and settled gently in the valleys of your desires. lingered in the lakes and puddles and the big vast ocean of your memories. all you’ve been thinking about since the concert was him. he’s completely consumed you.

you had scrolled up and down your messages together, laughing at old jokes and shedding tears at old memories. retelling the jokes he made to yourself and pretending that they were yours to begin with as a permanent smile etched itself onto your features.

maybe this all was a sign. a sign that you should stop hiding in the four walls of your bedroom. a sign that you should find some way to contact beomgyu, rekindle the friendship you once used to have and maybe fan the flames of something greater. you wanted to scream from the rooftops about how much you loved beomgyu. tell the whole world about how he makes you feel and every little thing he does that just fills you with so much warmth.

you were scrolling through the photo album you still had of the two of you. at your silly faces and candid moments. you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face if you wanted to. you felt like a teenage girl, giggling softly as she wrote her crushes name in hearts all over her notebooks. wide smile as she wrote in her diary about how much her crush rocked her world. you didn’t care, you couldn’t help it. beomgyu did—he really did—make you feel this way. he’s turned your whole world upside down.

electricity flowed through you until you were so antsy and electric that you just had to do something before it drove you insane. you needed to tell beomgyu, to let whatever was between the two of you happen. needed to have him around you again after these two long years, even if just briefly. god, you felt like such a romantic cliché, but you felt alive.

opening your phone, you finally replied to all of the messages that yeonjun had sent you. they spanned from worried to disappointed to a resigned sadness. you only sent him one message in response:

you: is he still here?

you held your breath, mentally smacking yourself for not looking up beomgyu’s tour dates beforehand. mentally smacking yourself for not garnering the courage earlier. how stupid you were. your phone dinged from yeonjun’s reply:

jjunie: party tonight at 11:30pm. i’ll pick you up around 11. be ready.

breathing out a sigh of relief you looked at the clock. it was already 10pm. you raided your closet for your best looking outfit, throwing it on as you ran to your bathroom to put makeup on. you wanted to look your absolute best.

11pm couldn’t come fast enough. you were waiting by the door when yeonjun had knocked, him barely getting his second knock in before you flung the door wide open. “is it too late?” you asked him desperately, standing limply in the doorframe. yeonjun just chuckled at you and grabbed your wrist, leading you to his car, “never. not for the two of you.”

on the way over, yeonjun told you how the party was thrown by some big celebrity you never heard of and how beomgyu got the two of you invites. it was for such a good start on his sold out tour and debut album. “like, everyone is gonna be there,” yeonjun said to you as he drove around to find a parking space.

once you found somewhere to park, you and yeonjun made your way to the venue where the party was being held. you passed through all kinds of security until you were faced with blasting music in your ears and bodies dancing everywhere. holding tightly onto yeonjun to not get lost, the two of you scanned the crowd.

“do you want to get a drink?” yeonjun yelled over the music to you. you nodded and he led you through the crowd to where the bar was. the two of you got something and drank them silently by the bar. you felt bad for keeping yeonjun tied to you, so you yelled over the music to him, “you can go and mingle! i’ll be fine over here by myself!” he leaned towards you, furrowing his brows. “are you sure?” he asked and you nodded.

yeonjun made his way through the crowd, turning his charm on as he talked to various people. you stayed at the bar, sipping on various drinks until you felt very tipsy. your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for beomgyu, every minute or so.

that’s when you saw him. he was across the room, holding a glass of something and talking to a group of people, when his eyes drifted and just happened to meet yours. beomgyu rendered you completely speechless. you got a good look at him, not being able to do so that well from his place on the stage, and took in how much he’s changed in the past two years.

beomgyu’s short brown hair was now dark, tinged blue in the low scattered overhead lights. the back of it touched the nape of his neck and the front fell over his eyes and ears. he looked absolutely beautiful, even more beautiful than you remember him being. his eyes widened at seeing you, making the natural liner of his eyes stand out.

suddenly, just like at the concert, it felt like it was only the two of you in the room. his eyes widened at seeing you again, his mouth opening slightly. without knowing it, the two of you gravitated towards each other. then you were face to face, standing in front of each other in the flesh. you couldn’t believe it.

you both said each other’s names at the same time, letting out a nervous laugh after. he motioned for you to continue and you swallowed hard. you were thankful that you were tipsy, that the alcohol was smoothing your nerves, because you definitely wouldn’t be standing in front of beomgyu right now if you weren’t.

“beomie…” you trailed before correcting yourself, you didn’t want to pretend to know him like you use to after two years. “beomgyu… there’s no excuse. no apology even sincere enough—“ beomgyu had cut you off, “y/nie, you don’t have to apologize.”

you shook your head. you knew that you didn’t, that he had already forgiven you and moved past it. hell, he wrote a song about it. but you had to. you had to apologize in at least some way. “no, i do,” you stated. “i shouldn’t have let us drift away, shouldn’t have let us become strangers. i shouldn’t have pushed you away. you were my bestfriend and i was scared. i like you so much, so much that you enveloped me completely. my mind, my book, my life… everything.”

you inhaled deeply, looking longingly into beomgyu’s eyes like you had wanted to do now for so long. “all i thought about was you. all i think about is you. and i miss you. i missed you so much, beomgyu. i love you. i’ve always loved you—“ beomgyu sat his glass on the nearby table as you spoke, then cupped your face gently with both of his hands and collided his lips to yours in a passionate kiss to cut you off. it told you everything he was feeling, everything he’s felt for you for who knows how long now. you felt his song lyrics on your lips. felt how every last lyric was written for you, every melody. every atom of your being colliding with every atom of his and creating a beautiful newborn star.

when he pulled away, he pulled you into a desperate and tight hug. he held you so tight it was as if he thought you were a bird that would fly away. you couldn’t blame him, you kind of were. “i don’t think i need to tell you how much i love you, but i will. i’ll sing it in your ear softly and scream it at the top of my lungs for all the stars to witness, y/n. i love you,” beomgyu murmured into the crook of your neck.

you took his hand and led him out the venue. when you suddenly remembered that yeonjun took you here, beomgyu chuckled as he took you to his car. in the warm glow of your city at night, you pointed to various street signs and turns as beomgyu drove to your apartment.

inside your apartment, the two of you couldn’t keep your mouths off each other. the wanting—the need—lifting you up to cloud nine and making you dizzy. when you both somehow got to your bedroom, you were breathless and hot to the touch.

beomgyu had pulled away from you. “is this okay?” he asked, looking into your eyes. you saw the desire inside of them. you nodded, “yes, just please don’t stop kissing me.” and he obliged, his lips on yours again.

one by one, articles of clothing came off. there was brief awkwardness, the hem of your dress getting caught on the earrings you were wearing and the button of his pants refusing to come undone. it all was alright in the end when the two of you were laying on your bed, you only in your bra and panties and him only in his boxers, his huge bulge pressing into your thigh as he hovered above you.

you were growing needy, the alcohol edging you onwards. “beomgyu… i need you inside me,” you whimpered against his mouth as his hard boner rubbed against you. he hummed, lips moving to your neck, causing you to moan. “i need you to fuck me…” you breathed out. beomgyu pulled away with the slightest upturn of his lips.

he sat you up so that you were now straddling his lap as he reached behind you and unclasped your bra. “next time…” beomgyu murmured. “next time i’ll fuck you. but not tonight. tonight… we stop being strangers.” you shivered slightly at your already hardened nipples being exposed to the cool air. shivering more when beomgyu’s wet tongue circled them.

“is that okay?” beomgyu asked, staring into your eyes as he waited for your response. you nodded, unintentionally grinding against him, and moaned out, “yes.” his fingers had gripped your bare waist at the contact and his eyes shut tightly for a brief moment. “next time… i promise you. let me get to know your body again.”

and get to know your body, he did. beomgyu laid you back down gently and then pulled off your panties slowly while staring down at you, eyes caressing every inch of you. you felt yourself getting wetter by the second, gripping the blankets to keep yourself from pulling him to you.

beomgyu pressed his lips to yours once more as he spread your legs apart. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin as he moved farther and farther down your body, looking up at you the entire time. you jolted slightly when he pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs. “you’re so breathtaking, even more than before,” beomgyu spoke, trailing kisses up to your knee. he paused for a second, “i missed you so much, y/n.”

his tongue then swirled around your clit and your back arched off the bed, your hands finding their way into his pretty hair. beomgyu groaned, pulling away from your core with a wet mouth, as you pulled at it. just as quickly, he was back at it, making you moan for him as he devoured you. you creating pretty harmonies for him.

“fuck…” beomgyu said lowly. you could see how hard his cock was in his boxers and it made you need him even more. he then pushed two fingers into you, them slipping in easily with how wet you were for him. beomgyu pulled you up from the bed as he continued pushing his fingers in and out of you, tipping your head back and capturing your lips in a sweet and slow kiss. your tongues danced together, waltz together as you clenched around his fingers.

pulling away, you buried your face in his neck as you whimpered his name. “cum for me, baby,” beomgyu said in your ear softly. you didn’t need to be told twice, your warm release spreading all over his fingers.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, “i-i need you, please… your—your fingers aren’t e-enough.” beomgyu chuckled as he nodded. you released your hold on him so he could take off his boxes, his long and hard cock on full display for you. you used to dream of moments like these.

beomgyu looked at you, asking silently if you were ready. in response, you shakily got to your knees. he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly, you slid down onto him. the both of you gasped at the feeling, moans joining together in a beautiful song as you moved up and down on his cock.

you were giving each other sloppy and needy kisses, beomgyu wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer as he thrusted up into your pussy. you gasped against his lips, your hands laying to rest against his chest. he whimpered as he continued thrusting, “you feel so—so good. so good, baby. do you f-feel good?”

“y—oh… it feels s-so good,” you managed out. you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust he pushed into you. with the feeling of his veiny shaft inside you, sending electric currents throughout your body. the feeling of his lips on yours. moaning, you pulled away and rested your forehead on beomgyu’s. “i’m gonna c-cum again, gyu.”

he moved you so your back was against the bed again, your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock still deep inside you. groaning at the new angle, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. “let me help you, baby. l-let me do the work,” beomgyu mumbled before you kissed him.

in passionate thrusts, you came around him again and a few seconds later you felt his warm cum pour inside of you. his hips jerked against yours and he let out a whine as he rolled into you, not planning on slowing down. “b-beomgyu…” you whimpered, gripping him tighter and throwing your head back so you were staring hazily at the ceiling. you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“l-look at me, my pretty baby, i n-need to see your face,” beomgyu said between hard pants. between the sounds of your skin slapping together and the wet sounds of him entering and exiting you repeatedly. you looked at him through knitted brows, your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back. “f-fuck… god, you d-don’t know what you d-do to me,” he murmured, eyes shutting for a moment. you pulled him down to kiss his jaw. “feels… feels so…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you clenched around him again.

beomgyu was twitching inside you more and more and you could tell he was overstimulating himself just to make you feel good. his words of praise were being slurred as he stared deeply into your eyes, breathing erratically.

when the two had came together, you couldn’t take anymore. your legs were shaking badly and your back was beginning to ache from how much you kept arching it. pushing beomgyu away until he was hovering above you, you barely managed to whimper out in a whisper, “c-can’t take it a-anymore, beomie…”

at your words he slipped out of you slowly, groaning loudly as you clenched tightly around his poor cock the whole way out. “y/n…” beomgyu moaned. he hovered above you for a moment, forehead pressed to yours and arms trembling, before falling down next to you. beomgyu pulled you towards him until you were wrapped in his body. you tried not to think about how his still half hard cock was up against your sensitive pussy. his breath fanning your skin and sending a shiver up your spine.

the two of you stayed like that for a couple minutes, coming down from your highs and breathing the same air. beomgyu had been trailing lines down your torso with the tips of his fingers, leaving goosebumps in his wake. you could feel his smile against your cheek at the way your body reacted to his touch.

when you both were strong enough to get up, he cleaned the cum from between your legs and his with a warm and wet towel and then guided you to the bathroom. beomgyu drew a bubble bath for the both of you, helping you inside of it when your legs began to shake and your knees almost gave out.

now you laid back against his chest inside the bathtub, one of his hands trailing up and down your arm with a washcloth and the other wrapped tightly against your lower stomach. “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this…” beomgyu trailed off softly. you turned slightly so you could look up at him. “you don’t know how long i wanted this either. how long i wanted to be with you in general.”

beomgyu smiled warmly down at you, that same warm smile he would give you every time you sang together. “how long?” he asked, playfulness slipping into his tone. “for as long as i can remember,” you giggled. “for as long as i’ve known you.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, the action sending ripples to your heart. “i’ve wanted it for longer,” he replied, laughing when you playfully scoffed up at him. “this isn’t our first life together.”

that sentiment made you turn in the tub to face him fully, your eyebrows knitting together and your eyes full of fondness. it almost brought tears to your eyes. “beomgyu…” you murmured as you cupped his face softly and brought your lips to his. you kissed him slowly, trying to show him how much you loved him through it. your actions and words alone will never be able to fully express how you feel for him.

after the two of you cleaned up more in the bath, you laid side by side in your bed. thankfully, you still had some of beomgyu’s clothes that you just couldn’t get rid of from when you still lived together and you would steal them. you were in one of beomgyu’s old shirts now, body up against his in the darkness of your bedroom.

“i’m gonna miss you when you leave to go back on tour. i don’t want you to leave,” you whispered softly into the darkness. you weren’t very good at expressing your fears out loud, clearly. but you had to let him know. had to let him know that you didn’t want this to be just a one time thing and you never see each other again. “so come with me,” beomgyu replied at your same tone, simply. “come with me and we won’t have to miss each other.”

you couldn’t help but think of the lyrics of the song he wrote for you, the one the two of you would sing together. “over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss.” he was right about ‘graze’ having a whole new meaning in his interview. first, it meant the longing between the two of you. always dancing around each other, fingertips always seeming to just brush up against the other’s but never fully grasping. then, it meant the two of you drifting apart. missing the opportunity to admit your feelings and be together. and lastly, right now. right in this moment, the two of you together again after two long years. missing each other until your heart aches even though you’re right next to each other. it is funny how meanings change.

“okay,” you giggled softly. “i’ll come with you.” you weren’t going to linger. he was right, this wasn’t your first life together, you could feel it. you were gonna stay with him forever. beomgyu pulled you closer, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

last night, your world was turned back on it’s rightful axis as you and your bestfriend beomgyu—your lover beomgyu, sealed the two of your souls together.

that morning you both had woken up to a ton of missed calls and a plethora of text messages. you both stared at each other with wide eyes after realizing that the two of you had basically silently walked out of the celebration that was held for beomgyu. yeonjun scolding the two of you when he realized that not only was beomgyu not at his own party, but that you weren’t there either.

quick kisses and giggles were shared as beomgyu raced to get ready for the schedule he had to do today. “text me, okay? i want to hear from you. i’ll let you know when we’re leaving for the next stop, so get your bags ready,” beomgyu said, throwing his coat on and pressing another kiss to your lips, deepening the kiss for just a moment before he pulled away.

you were standing by the door, a lovesick smile on your face, “i will!” you giggled as he stalled more and pulled you into a hug. “and don’t delete the kisses,” he whispered, kissing your cheek before finally making his way through the door. you waved goodbye to him and shut the door, immediately pulling out your phone.

you: i’ll see you later today. good luck on your interview! xxx

there was an immediate response from him and you giggled as you read it and responded.

beomie: thank you, baby! i love you!! you: i love you more!! xxx beomie: i love you more than there are stars in the sky!!! you: and i love you more than there are galaxies in our universe!!!! xxx beomie: okay… you win… but only because i can’t think of anything better!!!

laughing, you went to your room and started packing the things you needed for beomgyu’s tour.

two years ago—four since the beginning—you left the kisses at the end of your messages to your boyfriend beomgyu.

you were backstage just before one of his shows with him and yeonjun. beomgyu’s arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his side. your mouth was currently hung open in shock at yeonjun’s revealing news.

“i’m sorry, y/nie, but i just had to tell him. two years i had to listen to the both of you cry over each other—two years! i couldn’t do it anymore. i had to tell him about the things you were saying!” yeonjun sighed dramatically as if he were so defeated. you pushed his shoulder lightly, “you ass! then you had the nerve to set the two of us up at beomgyu’s concert with the tickets he gave you!”

beomgyu let out a laugh from next to you, laughing louder when you turned a playful glare to him. “if i didn’t…” yeonjun trailed as he spoke to you with raised eyebrows, “you two wouldn’t be together right now. now would you?” you rolled your eyes at him, wrapping your arms around beomgyu and laying your head on his chest.

“i’d like to think we would find our way back together,” beomgyu spoke, looking down at you. you smiled up at him in return. “uh huh…” said yeonjun, causing the three of you to erupt into laughter.

since beomgyu’s debut album and tour to go along with it, he’s released two more albums. all of the songs about you, once again. in every interview he had, he gushed about you to whoever would listen. you’ve also finally published your book, deciding to let beomgyu’s essence flow through the entirety of it. you couldn’t remove him even if you tried. and trust, you had tried.

one of the staff members gave a signal to beomgyu and he nodded back and gave a thumbs up. it was almost time for him to be on stage. for the first time ever, you were singing ‘graze’ and ‘forethought’ together with their whole new meanings.

you stared at beomgyu’s stunning side profile as he peeked out to the crowd. you almost laughed at yourself, at your past thoughts. of course love was meant for you. of course you and beomgyu were meant to be together, meant to be in love. meant to share each of your lifetimes and universes and supernovas and nebulas and brand new brightly burning newborn stars together.

of course the two of you were meant to love each other forever, how could you ever think differently?

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047 @riaawr

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shinestarhwaa · 22 days

Text

NEW WORLD || OT8 ATEEZ

Dedicated to @bratty-tingz ♡♡♡♡ ateez learns about your break-up with your sucky boyfriend and opens up a new world of experiences and pleasure.

Genre: Smut

Pairing: OT8 Ateez x bff!Fem reader

Word Count: 3K

Tags/Warnings: Gangbang, dirty language, fxm, mxm, breast/nippleplay, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise, degrading, voyeurism, biting, slight masturbation, humping, cumplay, breeding kink

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno @therealcuppicake @unholywriters @enbymingi @jjoongstar

ENJOY!

''And that is how the guy broke up with you?'' Yunho asks as his eyes widen. ''Pretty much,'' you sigh, nodding. You just told your guy friends about the boy troubles that went down over the past month. The break-up was pretty rough on you and the guys were determined you needed a fun night with them to let go of him.

''What a dick. I bet he didn't even give good dick,'' Hongjoong scoffs. ''I'm sure he didn't give her head either, he's probably a selfish and arrogant prick who only cares about his own pleasure,'' Seonghwa adds. ''Guys, please you do not have to shit-talk him just because he broke up with me,'' you say.

''Why are you defending him?'' Wooyoung asks, ''He wasn't that great and as the guys said, he probably didn't care about you. He never deserved you anyway. You know who could make you scream louder and cum harder than he ever could? Literally all of us.''

Suddenly the room went silent. Your cheeks heated up as the words Wooyoung spoke echoed in your mind. ''You... what?'' ''It's true, isn't it? You told me he didn't make you cum. You told me that.'' ''Wooyoung!'' you yell, punching his bicep, ''Did you have to say that out loud?'' ''Well I deserve a pretty girl like you deserves good dick, good head and a thousand orgasms. Does anyone here disagree with me?''

The boys all shook their heads at that and murmured little ''no's'', some a little more embarrassed than others. You're sure your cheeks are bright red around now. ''Wooyoung, please, what are you saying?'' You squirm in your seat, weirdly turned on by the idea of them trying to please you. ''Would you let us?'' Jongho suddenly remarks. Your eyes shift over to him and you eye him up and down. He's seated across the room, his legs slightly spread and his hand is resting on his thigh. God, the things you would do on that thigh.

Before you knew it you agreed. ''Yes.''

You never expected this to happen and you definitely never expected Jongho to be the one to step up before the others. Not literally though, because you actually stood up. Before you realized it you were walking over to him, straddling him. The skirt you're wearing slides up slightly as his hands glide over your thighs towards your hips.

''Is this really happening?'' San remarks, cheeks bright red, possibly redder than your own. ''You bet,'' Wooyoung says with a smirk plastered on his face. He spreads his legs slightly to get comfortable and his hand hovers around his crotch area.

You don't focus on them, though, you focus on the handsome man beneath you. He gently presses kisses down your jaw and neck onto your collarbone, where he traces your skin slightly. He unbuttons two of the four buttons on the shirt you're wearing, just to give him a view of your cleavage. Then, he kisses you.

The kiss is passionate but it's slow and calculated. He might be the youngest of the guys but he knows what he is doing. While Jongho's kissing you, Mingi stands behind you. You moan into Jongho's mouth when you can feel his erection pressed against your back and it makes you feel strangely powerful when you realize you got him hard in a matter of two minutes. Mingi bends over your shoulder slightly and his hands reach for your chest.

Mingi pulls down the top you're wearing, to reveal your breasts sitting nicely in your lacy bra. ''Fucking perfect tits... I can't believe I can finally touch them,'' he grunts in your ear as he massages them slowly, but firmly, playing with your nipples. You moan into Jongho's mouth and slightly roll your hips against his own, earning a small groan from him as well.

Jongho breaks off the kiss and takes your top off. Immediately, Mingi unclasps your bra and tosses it on the floor. Jongho and Mingi's hands groped, massages and played with your tits, earning small moans from you.

''Did he ever play with your gorgeous, perfect tits? I bet he went straight to your little pussy, didn't he? Gosh, he was probably such a jerk to you, not taking his sweet time riling you up first,'' Mingi whispers in your ear as he tweaks your right nipple. Jongho focussed on the left, taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

''He n-never touched my breasts properly, he just stripped me and used his fingers on me for 2 minutes before fucking me chasing his own release,'' you whine as you grind yourself on Jongho's lap. ''What a nasty guy, hm? What a shame that he treated you this way. We'll make you forget all about him, baby, don't you worry. We'll make you come and scream our names, won't we?'' Jongho says with a smirk. The guys enthusiastically join in immediately.

You notice some of them have taken off their shirts, some of them are palming their crotches or even have their hand inside their pants. It truly is a sight to behold. San watches Wooyoung push down his Adidas shorts with flushed cheeks, his rigid cock springing free. ''It's okay Sanie, don't overthink now. Let's just all let everything happen,'' Wooyoung said with a wink.

On the other side of the room you notice Yunho sitting naked on the couch with his big, fat dick in his large hand, slowly stroking it while watching Mingi and Jongho still playing with your chest. You lick your lips and gently push the boys off you. You stand up and pull down your skirt in panties in one go, leaving you butt-naked for all eight men to see.

Your eyes are fixated on Yunho and his mighty cock and before you know it you drop to your knees for him. ''Hey, princess, you know this is about pleasing you, right?'' ''It'll pleasure me so much more if everyone's getting pleasured Yunie. And how can I resist a cock like this? It might just be the biggest, most juicy cock I've ever laid my eyes on. And I want it in. My. Mouth.''

Yunho smirks and cocks his head to the side slightly. ''Well I can't take that away from you, hm? Have at it babygirl.'' You take his cock into your hands and you feel so much smaller than before. You lick a stripe from the base of his shaft all the way to the sensitive tip before taking his member into your mouth. Hongjoong hurries over soon enough, taking your hand in his before putting it on his bare cock.

Mingi is the next to become impatient, undoing his clothes and following Hongjoong's lead. Before you know it you've got two cocks in your hand while you're still sucking Yunho's. ''This may be the sexiest thing I've ever seen,'' Seonghwa pants out, finally taking off his underwear. ''You like that view, hyung?'' Wooyoung smirks, sitting beside him.

While Seonghwa has his eyes on you handling three different cocks at once, Wooyoung's hand suddenly reaches for Seonghwa's. He whimpers softly when Wooyoung starts to jerk him off and he throw back his head. ''W-Wooyoung,'' he cries out softly when the younger plays with his balls as well. ''I fucking love the way you moan,'' curses Wooyoung. ''Sanie, don't you think it's a good idea to get Seonghwa's cock ready to fuck our precious Y/N?''

San is the last member still wearing his underwear but his straining erection is impossible to hide. Swallowing thickly, he gets up from his seat and sits in front of Seonghwa. San has a perfect view of you sucking off Yunho and San tries his best to copy your movements, but he's thrown off by Jongho standing behind him, pushing down his head onto Seonghwa's cock. San gags and cries out, moans muffled by Seonghwa's dick and Seonghwa bucks his hips into San's mouth.

The boy is drooling and gagging around Seonghwa's cock while Jongho keeps pushing him down. ''That's it, take his cock. Make yourself useful instead of sitting around doing nothing.'' Hearing that, Yeosang gets up and positions himself behind you. ''I'm gonna lay down underneath you, Y/N, Yes? I'll eat your pussy since these guys apparently also only care about their own pleasure before pleasing you.''

The guys groan in protest but you have already widened your legs slightly for Yeosang. He lays down on the floor, wiggling his head underneath you. You carefully move down until you're sitting on his face, feeling the warmth of his mouth on your begging, pleading pussy.

The way Yeosang's tongue slid through your folds made you shiver. Goosebumps rise on your body as Yeosang's teeth lightly graze your clit before sucking on it. You whine around Yunho's dick before pulling off of it, gasping for air. ''Such a good girl,'' Yunho praises you, carressing your face lightly.

''Y-Yes, yes, yes!'' you cried out. Yeosang's hands grope your ass while he goes to town on your clit. You keep moving your hands on Mingi and Hongjoong's cocks, causing your breasts to jiggle up and down. ''Fuck, you are so hot,'' Mingi curses, twitching in your hand. ''A-are you gonna come, Mingi?'' you whine softly. ''I-I can hold it.''

''Come on my chest,'' you pant, riding Yeosang's tongue. You did not have to say that twice. Mingi takes ahold of his own cock and pumps it up and down until he spurts his load all over your breasts. ''F-fuck, please, Hongjoongie, you too, please!''

''Y-Yes princess, I'll give you my cum,'' he moans before doing so. A mixture of cum drips down your chest onto your stomach. You look into Yunho's eyes as you cry out, gripping his thighs. ''You're being such a good girl... Yeosangie is taking such good care of you now isn't he? Look at you just falling apart from having his tongue shoved into your pussy.''

It's the combination of dirty talk and Yeosang's tongue that send you over the edge. In a matter of seconds you're coming on his tongue and crying out his name. ''O-Oh my God, Yeosang yes, that's it!''

When you come down from your high you suddenly notice the sounds coming from behind you. Yeosang removes himself from you and you sit down, watching the other four going at it together.

Yeosang sits down and pulls you in his lap and without him asking you sink down on his cock. He moans softly and plays with your clit while you ride him in reverse cowgirl style. ''You got such a pretty little pussy, so tight and pretty all for us, huh?'' ''Y-Yes fuck, It is all yours, yours to fuck, to touch. Fuck, yes,'' you moan while bouncing on his shaft. As you're fucking yourself on him you're watching the guys now in front of you.

Seonghwa's brows are furrowed and his mouth falls open occasionally, letting out loud moans while Jongho forces San down on his shaft. San's cheeks and chin are wet with tears and spit and his body trembles. Wooyoung sits next to the three of them with a smirk on his face while he touches his own cock and sucks on Seonghwa's neck every few seconds.

The sight is so erotic you think you could just come right there and unexpectedly, you do. Yeosang's cock feels so good inside you, you feel yourself coming on it in a matter of minutes. ''Fuck, baby, look at that... Are you coming from watching Sanie getting used as a cocksleeve? Bet you'd love that too... This won't be the last time we're fucking you. Next time we won't go so easy on you,'' he speaks before he came with a quiet groan, filling your pussy up. You moan and nodd enthusiastically. ''Y-Yes, I want that,'' you sigh, getting off his dick.

When Seonghwa's visibly getting close to orgasming Jongho roughly pulls San off his long shaft. San breathes heavily and graps onto Jongho who tells him he's a good boy getting Seonghwa ready for you. The thought of having Seonghwa inside you makes your pussy clench around nothing.

You stand up, legs wobbling slightly before locking eyes with the eldest. ''Come here,'' you tell him, and he walks up to you immediately. You bend yourself over the armrest of one of the chairs, legs spread for him. ''Fuck my wet pussy, please, I really need you to fill up my pussy, pretty please?''

''You don't have to beg baby, I'll give you anything you want from me,'' he says, positioning himself behind you. The air in the room was so heavy with the seven other men watching you give yourself over to Seonghwa, who carefully slids his cock into your warm, wet pussy. You let out a long moan as he pushes in all the way a few times, easing you in.

Your pussy throbs around his cock when he picks up his pace, pounding into you. Wooyoung positions himself in front of you, tapping his cock on your lips. ''You'll be good and suck my cock, right, dear?'' Wooyoung's voice is so sweet you couldn't possibly say no to that. You opened your mouth and Wooyoung slides his cock in.

The position the three of you have on the chair is slightly awkward but in the moment you just couldn't care less about what it looks like. All you care about is how it feels and God, it feels good.

While Seonghwa is currently fucking you into oblivion, he indirectly pushes you further down Wooyoung's cock. Wooyoung keeps bucking his hips and fucking into your mouth, occasionally hitting the back of your throat. The back and forth is driving you insane and you feel like you're floating. Call it slutty, but you love getting used like a sextoy, it actually does give you pleasure when you pleasure others.

Your ex was never like this, you never even got time to truly pleasure him because it never took him over three minutes to have an orgasm. But with these guys it's different. They keep going at it, fucking you, or touching you, or doing anything and it feels. too. good.

Soon enough, Seonghwa starts moaning like a bitch - as Mingi says - signaling that he's coming really soon. ''Let's come inside her at the same time Hyung, I fill that pretty mouth of hers, you fill that little pussy, breed that pussy,'' he grunts. You feel the first drops of salty cum on your tongue before your mouth floods with it. Wooyoung is loud when he comes in your mouth, fucking every little bit of his seeds into you. Seonghwa reaches down for your clit and unexpectedly abuses it until you come on his cock.

The way your pussy clenches around his shaft makes Seonghwa come too and he fucks your pussy nice and full, making sure you've taken every drop of his semen. When you clear your mind and your voice you stand up, looking at the other guys. ''I believe there are still some gentlemen who haven't had their turns cumming yet, isn't that right? Yunie, Jongho, San, what is it that you want?''

''No, it's your choice,'' San says, looking at you with a sweet smile. ''I might have an idea,'' Yunho says with the filthiest smirk known to man playing on his mouth.

A few minutes later you're in San's lap on the floor, his flushed cock inside you, while Yunho positions himself behind you. Jongho stands in front of you, feet on either side of you and san as he slowly enters your mouth with his length. Finally, Yunho pushes in from behind.

Tears burn in your eyes when you feel your holes getting abused like this. The pleasure is overbearing and your thighs are trembling. Your pussy is so sensitive but the way San and Yunho's cocks are hitting the right spots send you right over the edge again. You're coming on their cocks, moaning around Jongho's length when you hear the guys cursing.

''Look at that, squirting all over their cocks like a fucking waterfountain. Fucking wish that was on my face,'' Mingi sulks. You gag around Jongho's cock, who's pounding into your throat, chasing his orgasm.

''I'm not gonna last, fuck!'' Yunho curses before coming into your pussy, stuffing you full with more cum. San's doing his best not to come yet, but he's breathing so heavily you think he could explode any minute.

Suddenly Jongho pulls out and replaces Yunho, sliding inside you quickly. Before you can even say anything about it his cock's inside you and he comes instantly from feeling your warmth around him. He comes with a low groan and he pulls out again, watching the mixture of your cum and the other's cum drip down his dick.

There's only one left who hasn't had their orgasm yet and that's San. Now you're bouncing on his cock alone he's moaning your name, groping your sticky breasts. He tweaks your nipples and you feel your thighs tremble again. ''P-Please San, I can't- I- Please come, please give it to me, please!''

San nodded and touches your clit with his fingers, tears now rolling down your cheek out of pleasure. You can't even hear or see San coming anymore but you feel it, you feel his fat cock twitch inside you. You feel him fuck his cum into you and you feel his fingers on your clit.

Your head falls back, mouth opening while letting out a loud moan. Your hair falls back as you come a final time, squirting down on San's member for the second time. You whine and whimper as you come down from your high and quickly, San pulls you down to lay on his chest.

''That was insane... Wow,'' Hongjoong says, genuinely impressed with your 'performance'. ''I feel like I am in a new world or something,'' You giggle slightly, but your voice is hoarse and tired and you feel like you could just pass out on San's chest. Everyone finally starts to calm down when Wooyoung suddenly giggles.

''Can we bring toys next time?''

#kpop #shinestarhwaa #ateez #smut #seonghwa #san #wooyoung #mingi #yunho #yeosang #hongjoong #jongho

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itsseohannbin · 5 months

Text

Confessions w/ BFF!SKZ

Hyung Line | Maknae Line

♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡

Genre: fluff 💕 crack 💥

Pairing: Hyung Line x Reader

Warnings: swearing. 1 joke about jumping into a ravine. i think that's it?? lmk if i missed any!!

Screenshot count: 14

Enjoy!!

Bang Chan

Lee Know:

Changbin:

Hyunjin:

TL: @moonlightndaydreams @channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604 @noellllslut @newhope8 @bethanysnow @yxnjinsduality @kaiyaba

#skz #skz fake texts #stray kids fake texts #fake texts #skz hyung line #stray kids #itsseohannbin fake texts #itshannjisung #itsseohannbin #hannjis fake texts

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blkkizzat · 1 year

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ꨄ︎『Cookin in the kitchen like a pot roast』ꨄ︎

☞ ꨄ︎『Masterlist』ꨄ

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Where my bad bitches? Fuck these niggas, give them trauma Coulda fixed his life but now that nigga need Iyanla

FYI write for a female identifying perspective with no racial descriptors so all can enjoy but a lot of my fics are inspired by hip hop lyrics or culture so very much black coded. If I decide to write black reader exclusively I will call it out in the summary/heading somewhere. My works are tagged: #♋︎kizzatcookedthat & #♋︎kizzatcooks Kinktober: # ☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳

ৎ੭ JJK MEN FAV ALT FUCK KINK - M.LIST - ♡∞ | ✎

ৎ੭ WE BE BURNIN': JJK 420 SERIES - M.LIST - ♡☯︎∞ ☻ ✿ | ✎

ৎ੭ NERD/VIRGIN SERIES - M.LIST COMING SOON

ৎ੭ OTAKU!GOJO: THE OTAKU IS MINE - M.LIST - ♡☯︎꩜| ✎

ৎ੭ THE NURSERY: YAKUZA!TOJI x MILF!READER - M.LIST - ♡☯︎∞ ☻ ✟ | ✎

ৎ੭ Daddy & Baby - ♡∞ | ✔ ❛You get the best of both worlds from a Choji [Choso x Toji x Reader] polyship❜

ৎ੭ FarmHand!Toji - ♡☯︎ | ✔ ❛Farm life ain't so bad when you got a sexy ex-con to use as a distraction❜

ৎ੭ Sins of the Father - ♡☯︎✟ | ✔ ❛You really need to repent for tormenting Father Kento like this.❜

ৎ੭ Sneaky Link: 1 & 2 - ♡∞☻ | ✔ ❛When Yuji goes to sleep, Sukuna comes out to play.❜ ৎ੭ A Bumpy Ride - ♡☯︎꩜ | ✔ ❛A long miserable ride on vaycay? Why not cockwarm your bf Suguru?❜ ৎ੭ Lessons in Anatomy ✎ P1: Nerd!Geto - ♡☯︎☻꩜ | ✔ ❛Your nerdy bff Suguru teaches you how to study and squirt.❜

ৎ੭ Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader - ♡∞ | ✔ ❛Your new bf Toji finds out his cute n' innocent gf has a filthy imagination.❜ ৎ੭ Do You Eat Pussy? - ♡∞☻ | ✔ ❛Asking a sexy stranger a wild question gets you a wild answer. [Toji x Reader]❜

ৎ੭ WFH!Nanami - ✿ ♡☯︎ | ✔ ❛You wont let your WFH husband miss his most important meeting of the day.❜

ৎ੭ YakuzaBoss!Toji - ♡☯︎☻🐈‍⬛| ✔ ❛Uh-oh! You're about to find out what happens when you ignore Yakuza!Boss Toji. ❜

For one/shots fics of WE BE BURNIN' see 'series' section above ꜛ Plug!Choso 3 Parts - ♡☻☯︎| ✔ 420 True Form Sukuna - ♡☻∞꩜| ✔

For one/shots fics of JJK Men Fav Alt Fuck Kink see 'series' section above ꜛ Nuru Massage ft Choso - ♡∞ | ✔ Foot Jobs ft Geto - ♡∞ | ✔ For one shots/fics apart of Kinktober, see kizzatober m.list below ꜜ Ghostface!Choso - ♡☯︎☻✟ | ✎ (complete but epilogue/P3 coming) Werewolf!Toji - ♡☯︎☻✟ | ✔ Tricks or Treats: JJK Halloween Fluff Anthology - ✿➹∞꩜ | ✔

< 1k words

ৎ੭ "HoneyDick"!Gojo - ∞➹꩜ ❛Satoru gonna learn to stop playin' with you today.❜

ৎ੭ Kissing True Form Sukuna - ♡∞ | ✔ ❛How you gonna make this man jealous of is own hand like that.❜

ৎ੭ Intern!Reader - ♡☯︎ | ✔ ❛Being a legal intern for Nanami and Higaruma is tough business.❜

ৎ੭ "Chef"!Toji - ♡∞ | ✔ ❛Don't ask Toji to make you dinner unless you're ready to be his dinner.❜

ৎ੭ Ab Riding Sukuna - ♡∞ ⌦✟ | ✔ ❛Being the personal fuckdoll of a four-armed evil monster isn't so bad if it's for a good cause.❜

ৎ੭ Objectifying Sukuna - ➹∞꩜ | ✔ ❛Dayum, Daddy what them thighs do?❜

ৎ੭ Broke&Kinky!Toji - ♡∞ | ✎ ❛No money? No problem! Best 'O' of your life for under ¥500.❜

ৎ੭ Do My Dance - ♡∞ | ✔ ❛If you throw it back this good, Toji might even pay your rent.❜

ৎ੭ Smoking with Choso - ✿ ➹∞ | ✔ ❛Your sweet bf deserves all the cuddles and indica blunts.❜

ৎ੭ Oral Fixation w/ Toji - ♡∞ | ✔ ❛Gargling Toji's balls like listerine❜

ৎ੭ April Fools With Toji - ∞➹꩜ | ✔ ❛Toji can dish it but he can't take it.❜

ৎ੭ Toji is Ugly - ∞➹꩜ | ✔ ❛Girl okay? that's MY ugly ass man.❜

ৎ੭ Choso's Chinchin ♡∞ | ✔ ❛A guide to what it's like fucking Choso. ❜

ৎ੭ Why Toji Stays With You - ∞➹꩜ | ✔ ❛Toji has yet to figure out he can't play the player❜ ৎ੭ Pussy Talk - ∞➹꩜ | ✔ ❛Your kewchie is multilingual thanks to daddy Toji.❜ ৎ੭ JJK Men x Black!Reader Bonnet Headcanons - ✿☯︎➹🐈‍⬛ | ✔ ❛Daddies are showing us how much they love us and our bonnets.❜ ৎ੭ Cult Leader!Suguru - ∞➹🐈‍⬛ | ✔ ❛Suguru called the wrong b!tch a monkey, he finna learn today.❜

ৎ੭ Choso Coded - ➹∞ | ✔ ❛How down bad he is for you after a sip of kewchie.❜

ৎ੭ Toji Lies About Being Broke - ꩜∞| ✔ ❛Taking care of a grown ass man for so long pays off❜

ৎ੭ JJK Men Getting Through TSA ❛They should really just try to drive next time❜

For headcanons apart of Kinktober, see kizzatober m.list below Why you can't watch scary movies with JJK Men - ♡∞| ✔ Slutty JJK Men Halloween Costumes - ♡➹∞ | ✔

Kizzatober '23 presents ↴ ৎ੭ m.list: Thrilling Ghouls & Smooth Criminals #☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳

ৎ੭ The Nursery - (Yakuza!Toji x Reader) ♡☯︎☻ | ✎ WIP ❛Toji on his Joe Goldberg bullshit. Lactation kinks too.❜

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023 & 2024. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

#masterlist #jjk writing #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #like this if you got that wet wet #minors dni #toji fushiguro x you #toji x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk smut #toji smut #nanami smut #geto smut #gojo smut #choso smut

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naids4luv · 9 months

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hi hi !! <3

congratulations on your 500!! you so so deserve it :( here’s to many more milestones in the future ♡

and if you’re not too tired, could i pls request for random haechan bff texts <3<3 thank you so much!

! bff hyuck texts !

thank u soooo much that’s so sweet of u omggg😭😭😭🫶🫶🫶 i really hope u enjoy this !!!!

#nct dream fake texts #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct #nct drabbles #nct dream #nct fake texts #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct dream haechan #nct haechan #haechan x reader #haechan fake texts

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ilys00ga · 8 months

Text

BABY, I CARE FOR YOU.

➞ pair: yoongi x f reader

➞ genre: sickfic, best friends to potential lovers (who knows?), fluffy fluff, yoongi being the best bff you could ever ask for, I miss him so much.

➞ synopsis: where the reader is sick and her bff is always there for the rescue.

➞ warnings: none.

➞ A/N: another request by @parkjennykim, who used 'she/her' pronouns in the req so I used those accordingly. This was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :)

PS. readers, remember my reqs are still open for now. you can go ahead and send some (read pinned post if u haven't yet, tho).

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

the bag you've been carrying all day slipped off of your shoulder as soon as you pushed the door to your apartment open and stepped in. not bothering to pick it up, you remove your shoes and leave them somewhere near the entrance and take a deep breath through the nose.

your body was having a party that day. muscles and head aching like crazy, throat bleeding as it burned with a ticklish feeling that lingered for hours and bringing out coughing fits from your chest every few minutes, legs barely holding you up and an annoyingly runny nose, you're sure the skin around it is red and raw from how you've been rubbing at it with tissues all day. not to forget the fact that you were freezing to death even though the heaters were doing their work in the flat more than enough.

“Mom is finally home!” A loud squeal came rushing from down the hall. You raised your head with some difficulty to see your best friend approaching you with your cat, Leo, in his arms and a wide smile adorning his face. He stopped in his tracks and frowned, however, as soon as he noticed your scowling expression and bloodshot eyes.

“Woah, you look so not happy right now.” he commented.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” Though your expression softened as you spoke, your voice still held a wince the more uncomfortable the light bulb became to your squinted eyes.

“You didn’t answer my calls or even texts, so I just decided to come over myself.” he explained, then eyed you up with knitted brows and a barely noticeable pout on his cherry red lips, “are you okay?”

“My head and body are killing me. I’m going to sleep. You can stay as much as you like, just feed Leo before you leave, plea-." A couple of sneezes cut your sentence off. The action stabbed daggers into your already throbbing brain; so painful that your eyes teared up and you squeezed your hands around your skull to try and control the waves of shock that hit you all of a sudden.

“Wait,” Yoongi put Leo on the floor and walked towards you. the back of his hand felt like a soft, warm blanket wrapped up around your body on a cold, snowy night as it rested on your forehead, so you closed your eyes and hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re so hot.” he grimaced at the heat that bit his skin, and when he noticed how you smirked mischievously with your eyes still closed shut, he whined, “don’t!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Your tongue felt numb as you blinked your eyes open and smiled at him.

“Come, you need to take a warm bath and eat something.” his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, slowly pulling towards the bathroom.

"Your hands are always warm. I like that a lot." you whispered, absent-mindedly eying the way he was soothingly caressing the skin under his thumb.

“Are you going to bathe me?” his cheeks warmed up at the question you blurted so suddenly, but the way you were slurring your words implied that none of the things you were rambling about were intentional. the fever really took its toll on your brain.

“Go do your thing, and I'm going to make you something warm to eat.” he bit his lower lip and pointed towards the bathroom, leaving to start doing his task in the kitchen.

"The walls are spinning around me!" You whimpered as soon as you entered your room, wet hair wrapped up in a towel, a fluffy, warm hoodie swallowing your torso and a pair of sweatpants. Yoongi, who was sitting on your bed, immediately fixed his gaze on you with a small smile. you could spot your favorite pair of socks laying beside him on the bed sheets, and your heart skipped a beat or two at how thoughtful that small gesture alone was.

"I'm sorry. let me just blow dry your hair, and then you can eat." he apologized, pointing at the hair dryer he'd been holding in his hand and patting the empty spot next to him.

"You're spoiling me today." You complained, but still obediently sat besides your sweet friend.

"You're sick, I'm taking care of you." he replied matter-of-factly.

you murmured a small 'thank you' before he gently started taking the wet towel off your head, then started carefully drying your hair.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you found Yoongi setting plates, along with utensils on the small table located by the wall. his eyes landed on you as soon as your painful-sounding coughs announced your arrival.

“Feeling any better?” his brows rose worriedly, and his gaze followed your hunched up body as it walked and took a seat.

“kind of. thanks for the food.” You offered a genuine smile despite all the tiredness washing over your limbs. he nodded knowingly.

“Here, take these when you finish eating.” He put a tablet right next to your bowl and sat across from you, digging into his own plate as well.

After a while, you decided to break the comfortable silence when your eyes fell upon the clock hanging just above the door frame, “You have work tomorrow, and it’s getting late. you should probably go.”

“I know you’re a jackass and you’d sleep on an empty stomach if you wanted to, even when you’re sick.” he muttered so casually it almost made you giggle if it weren't for the guilt of forcing him to stay taking over your mind.

“That’s not right!” You started to argue but hissed when your head reminded you that it still got a tornado going on inside of it as it throbbed even harder.

“Stop talking and eat!” he scolded, and you wordlessly complied.

"I'm not leaving until you're tucked into bed and fast asleep," he added in a stern tone after a small pause, making you grin weakly and stuff your face with another spoonful of soup.

"Are you feeling any better?" Once again, yoongi asked after pulling the duvet over your chin. he chose to sit right by your side, on the floor and with his back facing you.

you replied with a muffled hum, barely audible as you were busy gratefully enjoying the softness of your comforter with closed eyes. it felt as though it had some kind of magic that absorbed all the aching tension in your body, allowing you to finally heave a sigh in relief after such a long, tiring day.

"Where's Leo?" you asked.

"probably napping somewhere after his meal."

"You fed him?"

"Of course I did. I'm not like you, forgetting my cat as soon as I get sick." he smirked teasingly.

"I didn't! I knew you were gonna stay, and I trusted you, like I always do." Your voice was only getting weaker and weaker, sleepy as you fought a battle against sleep just to answer your cheeky best friend.

Yoongi only smiled, glancing at you with tinted cheeks. he allowed his gaze to linger just a tad bit more on your closed eyes, nose poking out above the fuzzy blanket and shoulders ever so faintly shivering as the fever still clung onto you. he found the sight so endearing, he chuckled quietly and sighed, "Good to know you do."

"'m so 'ired." You slurred.

"Sleep, darling. I'm right here." was the last thing you heard him say ever so gently before surrendering your powers and drifting into a deep slumber.

Yoongi kept observing as you slept for a while before standing up. He bent down to press one soft kiss on your cheek and another one on your forehead, then walked out of the room with extra efforts not to make any noise and disturb your peaceful night when it had just started.

"Mom is sleeping. Let's hang out in the living room, hmm?" He picked up the fluffy cat that came running towards him as soon as he saw the door opening and kissed his head. heading towards the living room with a small smile on his face.

#yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #bts yoongi #bts #bts imagines #bts fic #sickfic #friends to lovers #maybe not #hahaha #who knows #suga fluff #bts fluff #fluff

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ybklix · 2 months

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𐙚 𝐰𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝟏𝐤 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 ꒱౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

♡ inside ybklix’s mind ♡ a series of fics based on songs! ๑ ֹ ₊ㅤ ۟ (MDNI)

── .✦ MASTERLIST

+ INFO UNDER THE CUT ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

hi, tysm for all the love and support and most important for reading! ♡

smut with a little plot !! 🍒₊˚⊹˙✧˖° sorry

bang chan ♡

synopsis: After a public and embarrassing breakup, the people cheer and expect your new album, so your team gets you one of the best producers and managers in the industry to guarantee your success; however, after meeting him, he awakens in you an unknown side and an incredible sexual appetite. pairing: producer!chrisbahng x popstar!fem reader ꒰୨୧◞ 。READ HERE - SOON⠀.ᐟ

lee know ♡

synopsis: Amidst the tension and displeasure, after a fight, your boyfriend Minho finds you doing something that awakens every sense in him, he knows he should leave you, you both don't do well for each other, but he can't resist you. pairing: dombf!minho x fem!reader ꒰୨୧◞ 。READ HERE - SOON⠀.ᐟ

changbin ♡

synopsis: Things get steamy after meeting a quite extravagant and peculiar guy, owner of one of the city's best and most exclusive nightclubs. pairing: rich!changbin x fem!reader ꒰୨୧◞ 。READ HERE - SOON⠀.ᐟ

hyunjin ♡

synopsis: Two hopeless best friends questioning each other about love and relationships around Valentine's Day, what starts out as a drunken venting turns into a hot, hardcore demonstration of love. pairing: bff!hyunjin x fem!reader ꒰୨୧◞ 。READ HERE - SOON⠀.ᐟ

han ♡

synopsis: Nothing hotter than fucking a superstar on the sly, exploring unknown worlds not only socially, but taking you into his own space where only pleasure exists. pairing: rockstar!hanjisung x groupie!femreader ꒰୨୧◞ 。READ HERE - SOON⠀.ᐟ

felix ♡

synopsis: A mystery in the hot sun overwhelms Lee Minho's guests for what would be an unforgettable summer. An immature, tormented young artist, a few crimes, and a French chateau come together with a naive man, Lee Felix, whose game of hide-and-seek may end fatally. pairing: shywriter!felix x fem!reader ꒰୨୧◞ 。READ HERE - SOON⠀.ᐟ

seungmin ♡

synopsis: Seungmin discovers a secret about his father that fills him with rage and revenge, leading him to you, one more pawn in his game who for some reason becomes addicted to you and enjoys every moment of what is supposed to be fast. pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader ꒰୨୧◞ 。READ HERE - SOON⠀.ᐟ

i.n ♡

synopsis: You can't help but get hooked on the guy you met one night and it seems increasingly impossible to see him again. pairing: fuckboy!jeongin x fem!reader ꒰୨୧◞ 。READ HERE - SOON⠀.ᐟ

ty❤️

#𐙚wen writes♡₊˚⊹#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #bang chan smut #lee know smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #lee felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #ybklix♡₊˚⊹

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applesooyoung · 3 months

Note

Dominating jungwoo.

That cute face has to look good in tears right??

Crybaby - K.JW

Genre: Smut hehe | Wc: 560 | AFAB!Reader

Contains: sub bff!Jungwoo x dom!Reader, kind of established relationship?, pegging, choking, Jungwoo wears collar, degradation (just a teensy weensy bit just for the drama ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)), lowkey voyeurism and exhibition, petnames, mommy kink, dacryphilia, mirror sex

A/N: A short one... a quickie if you will mwhehehehe (｡•̀ᴗ-), hope u enjoyed this one, anon~! Luvlots ♡

[Now playing: Tinnitus — TXT]

🩷 ̇ ̟ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿ 🧸‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷ ̇ ̟ 🍓 ︵‿୨

Dim lights and a can of unfinished coke. You tied your hair up as you pushed your best friend to the bed, as this only pushed him deep into subspace.

You always knew he had a thing for dominant women, just like every time you order something at a restaurant, he gets what you get. But every time you get suspicious of him being this submissive, he would know it—he could feel the tension of your suspicions, and as an attempt to cover it up, he would always just change the topic of your conversation.

But this time would be different.

All secrets are out now.

"H-Hey! What was that for?" he softly hissed as he rubbed his elbows. "Take off your pants."

Jungwoo can't help but complain, but he complies anyway. "What are you doing?" He tries to cover his bulge, but every time he does, you just swat it off. "You were never this shy when you were jacking yourself off my bed earlier, no?" His heart skipped a beat, you know.

"Going off on my pillow, moaning my name while the door is barely closed. What a perfect recipe for disaster, now I'm sure you're trying to be caught," you giggled as he swallowed his spit. "It's ok, baby, come on and go on all fours for me.".

"Yes, Mommy," he obeys as you smile at your new nickname, Mommy. You quickly turned to your closet to get your strap on, a bottle of half-used lube, and the one that caught Jungwoo's eye the most, the light pink collar on your hands. "Is that for me, mommy? You smiled and nodded.

You clasped the collar around his neck while attaching the chain leash to the back of it. He looked so dainty and pretty; the pink complimented his copper-colored hair. You lubed up your silicone dick and started pounding him while slightly tugging his leash.

"M-Mommy, faster, please! I love this," he pleaded as you pounded him faster and harder. "God, baby, I could feel you clenching on my strap," you replied with your fingers tracing his spine. "You like this, don't you, you silly little slut? Moaning my name while playing with your cock?"

Jungwoo gulped from the overstimulation; he feels so embarrassed that you caught him. Now all he can do is cry pathetically as if that's gonna do something. He's getting fucked stupidly; he's getting fucked by his best friend until he can't think anymore. "You didn't even bother closing the damn door," you tutted as you jerked him off as you kept pounding him from behind. "Cute little puppy~" you cooed.

He looked at the mirror in front of him to see him getting ruined, tears staining his beautiful rosy cheeks. All of it was overstimulating him; the fact that he got caught, his best friend fucking him, the way your strap was rammed inside him, the coldness of the chains touching his skin, the way the collar hugged his neck. It drove him nuts and made his vision and memory all blurry.

You lifted his chin so he could look at himself; you found him drooling and with eyes that were oh-so glossy from crying. You'd be lying if you told yourself this wasn't the best view you've ever seen in your life. "It's gonna be a long night, Jungwoo... Long night"

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yuukimiyas · 1 year

Note

happy saturday lovie!! i hope reo takes u somewhere fun this weekend & spoils u after u worked so hard this week <3 blowing u so many kisses!!!!

mai!! my love!! i always know my day is gonna be the best when i get to hear from you!! °ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ° omg yes yes i'm def gonna do smth so much fun w lover boy!! probs gonna have a fun lil night out on the town w him!! i hope we get to see you & dazai around, too!! (∗˃̶ ᵕ ˂̶∗) i def need to be a lil spoiled after this week ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა lmaodfjhehe <33 i'm catchin all of your kisses & sending 1 million more back!!!

#i swear you are just the nicest & sweetest soul!! i love getting to read these lil asks!! they warm my whole HEART!! ૮⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ ა #i'm gonna try to see my bff & get some writing done today!! a v nice relaxing wknd!! what're you up to bby? <33 i hope its smth amazing!!#& dw lover boy & i are def gonna enjoy the wknd filled w lots of shoppin & snugglin!! ૮꒰ྀི⊃´ ꒳ `⊂ྀི꒱ა a perf way to end such a crazy week!!#i'm holding you & squeezing you so so so tight!!! i adore you!!! so so so so so much!!! ALL MY LOVE TO YOU FOREVER & EVER!! ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ seisitive #( ˘ ³˘)♡moots!#⋆°˖➴ p.o. box!

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lovebugism · 1 year

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forgive me for what is likely a basic ass request but... steve has a crush on eddie's best friend? smut optional but encouraged :) (love, j.d. aka mypoisonedvine)

✶ ┄ LOVE YOU, ON PURPOSE (i)

part one | part two

summary: steve harrington took extra care to avoid the local freaks of hawkins. having shared custody of a fourteen-year-old forced him into a bitter friendship with one, he's steadfast in his refusal to befriend the other. that is, until you start working at the groove beside family video. steve claims he only fell for you because you tripped him. (17k)

pairing: steve harrington / eddie's bff!reader

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, protective eddie, canon divergence TW swearing, bullying, some smooching, talks of insecurities, reader is doubtful of steve's intentions because steve used to be a dick <3

a/n: this request has been sitting in my inbox for ages. ages, i tell you! i wrote the outline the day it was sent in and ended up turning the blurb request into a full on 30k+ word fic. i'm sorry for the wait j.d. (and to everyone else who's been waiting patiently for me to put this out). i quite literally put my heart, soul, pussy, and so, so many hours into this. please enjoy! feedback is always appreciated! xoxo

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Something happens and I'm head over heels.

It would be a total disservice to call you Eddie’s best friend.

It wouldn’t even feel right to call you his platonic soulmate or his sister from another dimension. Not when the two of you are essentially an extension of the same human being. It’s a twin flame on steroids — your mirrored souls make the rest of Hawkins believe in some sort of higher power. There’s no way it wasn’t destiny that placed the two of you together at exactly the right place, at exactly the right time.

Your entwined spirits could’ve been a beautiful thing.

It’s too bad you’re both total fucking freaks.

Unfortunately, being a couple of metalheads who spend their free time creating fantastical worlds in silly little board games hasn’t become cool yet — for some sad, strange reason. It leaves you and Eddie as the town’s token social pariahs. The kind of misfits you only spot when you care enough to look — laughing too loudly at the lunch table or sharing a cigarette in the alleyway between school buildings.

The kind of weirdos who get your attention without trying. The kind that people only look at when they need something to make fun of.

With that being said, everything Steve knew about you came from the people that hated you.

Tommy Hagan said that you and Eddie had been fucking since the seventh grade, that the two of you had gotten close between blowjobs and fingerbangs in the old chemistry classroom. No one’s quite sure where it came from, but they believed him without thinking twice. You and Eddie tried to squash the rumor for years before leaning into it full throttle.

“And these are the freaks,” Tommy announced when he approached your lunch table. He was giving Billy Hargrove a grand tour of the high school, or rather the shithole, and detoured like you and Eddie were some kind of sideshow attraction. Him and his goons ogled at you like zoo animals.

Steve idled some feet away, not as interested in the bit as the rest of them. He was even less interested in entertaining the new kid on the block thateveryone else seemed to be obsessed with.

“Hey, Tommy...” Eddie sing-songed through a mouthful of PB&J. You’d given him the other half of your sandwich, because you always give him the other half of your sandwich. “Hope you’re not comin’ back to ask for a handy again. I already turned you down, remember?”

A dumb grin took over the boy’s freckled face. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned over to the California boy. “I wouldn’t get too close to them. Don’t know where their hands have been, you know? If I had to guess, I think Punchy got Munson’s rocks off in the janitor’s closet before lunch period.”

Neither of you were particularly fazed by the laughter that erupted all at once and threatened to swallow you whole. Instead, you smiled with bits of grape jelly smeared on your chin. “I bet you think about it a lot, don’t you, Tommy?”

You really lived up to the nickname. Punchy. You weren’t entirely sure where it came from — your fierce temper, perhaps, or maybe your intense personality. Either way, it suited you.

Vicki Carmichael once said that you bit a guy on a date one time. Barry Jenkins, a tennis douchebag who thought the world revolved around him because his dad owned a string of local laundromats. He took you on a date in his mom’s Impala and assumed making out in the backseat gave him free rein to stick his hand up your skirt.

The asshole sported a red mark on his neck the next day.

When people asked you about it, you smiled with all your teeth in place of any real answer.

Carol Perkins loved to comment on the state of your wardrobe, telling anyone who would listen about the time she caught you rifling through the $1 bargain bins outside the thrift store. She liked to joke that you were stealing from them. “Because she can’t even afford a couple measly dollars. It’s kinda sad, honestly. I feel a little bad for her,” you overheard her saying once.

You were smoking a cigarette in the stall and watching through the crack of it while her and her friends touched up their lip gloss.

“Wait, really?” Tina wondered, stopping mid-swipe of mascara through her long lashes to gape at the girl beside her. Because, god forbid, they don’t have someone to make fun of.

Carol snapped bright pink bubblegum between her teeth. She looked offended, almost — manicured brows furrowed and shiny lips snarled — like the idea of her taking pity on you was insulting. “No,” she snapped in response.

You’re pretty sure it’s the only rumor about you that’s got any bit of truth to it. Or any rumor of hers, really. The thrift store was great and all, but you firmly believe that your best pieces come remanufactured straight from Eddie Munson’s closet.

So it isn’t any wonder why the two of you seem to dress so similarly — all leather jackets and distressed jeans and hand-me-down t-shirts that are either too big or too small. The both of you take little care in your appearance, wearing only what you feel good in. And sometimes that means wild hair and baggy clothes that swallow you whole.

To make it worse, you and Eddie even talk the same. You’re both loud and brash and have very little awareness of personal space. You aren’t scared to make a scene or use your voice when you think it’s being stifled. And when you love someone, they know it, because you won’t leave them the hell alone.

These are all the things that Steve hated about Eddie. So he hasn’t quite figured out why he’s so damn in love with you.

But he is.

Quite dreadfully so.

Head over heels and stumbling since the day he met you for a second time.

It was the spring of 1986 and The Groove had just opened up. Steve had heard murmurings of a record shop taking over the empty outlet adjacent to Family Video but had no idea it would nearly run them out of business. The shiny, new music store attracted all of their usual customers. People were more excited to buy new cassettes than rent movies they’d seen a thousand times already.

Steve didn’t mind, though. He liked it best when the store was empty. But all of his friends — a closeted lesbian, a basket case, and a couple of fourteen-year-olds — seemed to have the same affliction that was plaguing the rest of the town.

He tried not to be offended when Robin said she was going to spend her break next door and not with him in the closet-sized break room.

He failed.

Robin spent her half-hour and then some meeting you. She returned forty-five minutes later with a blushing face and a bleeding heart. Suddenly, there were two people in Steve’s life that couldn’t seem to shut up about you. As much as it annoyed him, he let her gush about you anyway, because that’s what best friends do, after all.

But Steve knew you once upon a time. Or he thought he did.

You were a loudmouthed metalhead who wore all black to blend in to Eddie’s shadow. You created fictional characters because it was easier than making friends with real people. You were strange and awkward and mean and gauche — the total opposite of this heavenly, mystical creature Robin was making you out to be.

But then it became this whole… thing.

With Robin and Eddie constantly talking over him about you, the rest of the kids were as confused as Steve was. And as they so often tend to do, the group decided to take matters into their own hands and make the short trek to meet you formally. Steve figured that their answer would be final. When those teenagers hate you, you know it. He learned that the hard way

They’re gone for a little over an hour and come back with a thousand stories and various tapes they say you gave to them for free.

Lucas has got a new Beastie Boys cassette and a proud smile on his face as he recounts the promise you’d made him about catching his next basketball game. “And she said she really liked my ranger,” he brags less than humbly, telling the older teens about how you’d heard stories about his track record in Hellfire campaigns. There’s a sudden suaveness to his voice as he bounces his brows up and down at them.

Max scrunches her face in disgust. She clutches a Kate Bush tape close to her chest, like it’s a prized possession she never wants to let go of. She rolls her eyes at her boyfriend (or maybe ex-boyfriend, but Steve can never keep up these days) and makes her own conversation with Robin. The two girls are the only ones with more than half a brain cell between them, or so they claim.

The redhead tells her that she plans on bringing her broken skateboard over to your store soon. She says the thing’s been wobbly for days, and Robin nods along like she knows all about it. “Well, apparently, she has some tools and knows how to fix it. Said the trucks just needed to be reinforced or some shit, I don’t know, I’m just glad it’s getting fixed.”

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asks her, confusion contorting his words along with his features. He crosses his arms and leans against the counter. “I could’ve fixed it.”

“You don’t know anything about skateboards,” Max monotones.

“Okay, but you don’t even know this girl! She’s a total stranger, Max. That’s dangerous.”

She rolls her eyes. “She’s nice, Steve. Way nicer than you—”

That makes him scoff.

“—And you’d know that if you got to know her.”

It’s Dustin’s turn to gush about you next. His opinion, for a reason Steve has never been able to place, arguably means the most to him. And the kid is just absolutely fucking beaming about you. He holds a Star Wars orchestral vinyl in his hand — the brand new one he’s been talking about for weeks but couldn’t afford.

He talks of the collection of DnD figurines you were painting behind the counter and the promise you made to make one for his bard come the next campaign.

Dustin gazes at Steve, wide-eyed and nodding like he’s as amazed by the revelation as Steve is. “She’s cool, Steve. Like… really cool.”

The boy thought that Robin just had a crush, that Eddie was just being Eddie and overdramatizing all of his stories about you. But you’re everything they said you’d be and then some. The kind of stranger you meet that takes your breath away, that makes you sad in the understanding that you’ll never see them again. Dustin is grateful you don’t have to be a stranger anymore.

You sounded… nice. More than nice. They painted you out to be a fucking angel, the way you took care of a bunch of kids you barely knew for the better part of an hour. You weren’t the freak everyone made you out to be all that time ago.

They talk a great deal about your looks, too. Dustin, mostly. Lucas had received a glare and a half-hearted punch on the arm from Max when he said how pretty you were — even though she ultimately agreed with him. The curly-headed boy uses too big words to describe the renaissance painting you are, all heavenly morose and beautifully strange.

“Hey,” Eddie scolds from the sidelines, mostly playful. “That’s my sister you’re talking about. Bring it down a few notches, ‘kay?”

Steve is silent for the rest of the day after that. He’s not pouting about it like Robin keeps saying he is, just reserved in his reminiscence.

He can’t tell if he’s intrigued or annoyed. They talk about you the way people used to talk about King Steve — with a borderline obsession for someone they don’t really know. And deep down, he knows he’s just jealous. Jealous that no one talks about him that way anymore. Jealous that none of the kids have ever talked about him that way.

It leaves him skeptical and wanting to see the real thing for himself.

Steve opts to meet you on his lunch break the next day with a tight chest and sweaty palms, like a part of him knew it was going to change the trajectory of his life for the foreseeable future.

The door dings with his arrival. The record store smells like earth and nostalgia, a bit like flipping through the pages of an old book. Vinyls sit in rows and in towers that rise to the ceilings. Colorful cassettes, of which there are thousands, have nooks and crannies of their own. Posters decorate the walls along with various patterned records — there’s hardly a blank spot in the entire store.

And when Steve sees you for the first time, he only sees the back of you.

You’re in all black, just like he imagined you’d be. A sliver of skin at your midriff is showing from where your too small shirt has ridden up your torso. And your hair is as wild as ever, though a little longer than he remembers. You’ve haphazardly pinned back the ornery strings with a sparkly pin, but it doesn’t do much to tame them.

A breeze of warm wistfulness washes over him at the sight of you. A reminder of a life that used to be his, that you were a part of only passively.

It’s your smile that does him in. Maybe because you’ve never looked at him with it. As far as Steve’s concerned, no one’s ever smiled at him the way you do, and you barely even know him. You hadn’t seen him in over a year and if you shared any words in the past, it wasn’t anything more than snarky one-liners. But here you are, looking at him with sunshine anyway.

“Hi,” you beam with the warmest grin he’s ever seen, swiveling in your chair to face him. “Welcome in.”

He’s too stunned by the sight of you to respond. He just stands in the doorway, all wide-eyed and gaping, like he’s the first to see an angel on earth. And it’s strange because you’re far from perfect.

You’re blousy and a little disheveled, like you’d been running late that morning. The lack of makeup allows your imperfections to shine through in a way that makes you somehow more alluring. And you’ve got paint splattered like freckles on your cheeks, the culprit being the figurines you’re painting behind the counter. If you know you’re dotted with shades of red, blue, and green, you don’t show it.

“Can I help you find anything?” you ask him, still kind even though he’s acting like a fucking weirdo. That’s supposed to be your thing, not his.

Steve grasps for something to say but comes up short. His lips part and then close again in an embarrassing pattern that resembles a fish out of water. It makes sense, though; it’s a bit how you’ve made him feel just now.

When he realizes he can’t make out anything intelligible, he shakes his head. “Uh… nope.”

He’s leaving before he even realizes he’s leaving. The door dings again and he’s on the other side of it, long legs carrying him the short distance to Family Video at record speed.

He swings and slams the egress shut in quick succession, as though the ghost of you had been chasing him. He leans against the glass pane and exhales a heaving sigh, eyes squeezing shut as he recoils at what he’d just done.

He always knew that King Steve had died some time ago, but this was a new low.

Robin watches from the front counter with wide eyes. “…Did you forget something?”

Steve sighs a big, hopeless sigh, then peeks his eyes open. “My dignity.”

“She’s cute, right?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Her brows bounce in time with the smirk on her painted lips.

“Yeah, she’s cute,” he answers, all mad because it’s obvious. “She’s fucking— she’s beautiful.”

“Aw. Look at you,” she sing-songs and tilts her head to her shoulder. “I think your heart grew three sizes today, Stevie.”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

I never find out 'til I'm head over heels.

Steve, all caught up in his boyish misery, has no idea that he’s enraptured you in a similar way.

You hadn’t cared very much for the guy in high school. You didn’t really know him then, and you didn’t particularly want to. King Steve was rich. King Steve was pretty — too pretty. King Steve got attention from pretty cheerleaders and overaggressive douchebags alike.

King Steve didn’t need any affection from the local freakshow.

But, by some strange turn of events, he’d managed to make nice with your best friend.

The way Eddie talks about Steve, his words always dripping with a distant venom, it sounds like they still hate each other. Maybe they do. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to admit that they hang out far too often not to be friends.

If you were still in school, you probably would’ve judged him for it. Being friends with the boy whose buddies made your life hell certainly warranted some degree of ridicule. But now, having graduated and trying to move on from it all, you can’t find it in yourself to.

High school might as well have been a lifetime now. There’s no use in holding onto old ghosts.

If Eddie could let that shit go, so could you.

He drops by after school to keep you company like he always does when he doesn’t have a campaign to prep for. It’s his favorite pastime, perhaps a close second to Dungeons and Dragons. He gets to hang out with his best friend and swim in an ocean of music while he does it. As far as freaks go, Eddie Munson considers himself the luckiest.

He likes to hear you talk about everything new you’ve gotten in while he rifles through the old stuff that isn’t selling as well. You happily let him take what he wants for free. And what he doesn’t take, he doesn’t pay for either, because you cheat the system with your employee discount and then wipe the record from inventory. Just to be safe.

“I love having a criminal for a best friend,” he jokes every time, without fail.

Eddie stays by your side until the sun sets. He parts only to flip the sign at the door to closingfor you, then plops himself back on the counter again. His legs hang off the side of it, sneakers occasionally thudding against the wood when he kicks them back and forth too hard. He scans the back of an old Lynyrd Skynyrd vinyl and bobs his head to the rhythmic bass as the song fills the empty store. He’ll take this one home, he decides.

You keep on painting like you have been all day, breaking only to assist customers or stretch your aching spine. The forest dragon had been far more work than you expected — made of pretty purple leaves instead of scales and blowing blush-colored flowers instead of fire. The little piece of clay has resulted in a day of back-breaking work.

You’ll be damned if Eddie’s next campaign isn’t the most stellar looking one yet.

Focusing on that makes it easier not to bring up Steve.

You want to. You just don’t know how.

Eddie’s friends were Eddie’s, and you don’t get involved where it doesn’t concern you. Besides, you did sort of give him shit for hanging out with The Hair way back when. The last thing you want is him taking the piss out of you about it.

You don’t want to sound like you care too much. Even more, you don’t want it to be obvious that you’ve been thinking about the boy all day — making yourself sick as you stew in what could’ve run him out like he did.

“Saw your friend today,” you remark, feigning a sort of absentmindedness, as you swipe your brush along the petals of your dragon. “King Steve.”

“Oh, you met him?” Eddie wonders, more intrigued by your words than you expected he’d be. He says it like you didn’t already know the guy — like this new Steve was a totally different person you needed to be reacquainted with to really know.

“I wouldn’t say met him exactly. He just, like, popped in for half a second and ran out.”

With your back facing him, you don’t see the shit-eating grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

Eddie was waiting for Steve to crack and finally see you. He knew he’d bite after the way the kids had talked about you — Dustin, especially. Because even though he claims he doesn’t have favorites, he’s got a very obvious soft spot for the boy. And he knew Steve would like you because everyone likes you. When they’re not clouded by judgment and high school hierarchies, at least.

He’s still got no idea how a guy that trips all over himself at the sight of a pretty girl could’ve ruled Hawkins once upon a time.

“Fucking idiot,” Eddie laughs to himself, already gearing up for the shit he was going to give Steve the next time he saw him.

But you see the boy before Eddie does. Steve comes back the next day, an hour or more after opening, less frazzled than the day before. The nearly twenty-four hours he had to prepare himself for the angel he was going to see allowed him not to make a total fool of himself when he stepped into the store again.

And you wouldn’t say it out loud — hell, it’s not even something you want to admit to yourself — but you’d been hoping he’d stop by again.

You thought Robin would come by and drag him with her, or that Dustin and his friends would come around before Steve dropped them all home. Frankly, you didn’t really care what brought him back. You just wanted to see him again.

Steve’s different than the boy he used to be. Enough that it was obvious from a measly thirty-second interaction. He used to be a charmer who could talk his way out of anything. Not to you, of course, he wouldn’t have been caught dead talking to you. But then he stops by out of nowhere, in rare form, stumbling all over himself and looking like he didn’t recognize you at all.

You’re still trying to figure out if that was a good thing or not.

He’s mystified you in a way he probably isn’t used to. Most girls like the hair and the arms — the super buff, super strong arms that fit so nicely in his uniform — or the fact that he’s got money and a reputation that precedes him. But you’ve never given a shit about any of that.

You’re more enchanted by the way nothing could even begin to conceal the soft, shy boy that King Steve had apparently turned into.

The door chimes above his head when he enters. The scent of earthy nostalgia is already familiar to him — lavender, sage, and something deeper. Steve considers it progress when he plants himself a few feet away from the door this time. If he runs out again, he’ll have to make an embarrassingly longer escape.

You turn away from your nearly finished figurine to greet the new customer. The practiced smile unconsciously widens at the sight of him. “Hi!”

“Hey,” he smiles with a curt nod. He regrets the half-wave he gives you the second his hand shoots up.

“You gonna run off on me again?” you tease and swivel in your chair to face him completely.

You’re wearing a Hellfire shirt that’s just slightly too big for you. It probably belonged to Eddie before it belonged to you. And you wear a corset-looking thing over top of it, a sheer number with a lace embroidery and a ribbon that’s tied in a bow at your belly. It doesn’t cinch you in the slightest, though, more for decoration than practicality.

“No that was… I just—” Steve huffs out a laugh as he tries and fails to come up with an excuse. He figures anything is better than the truth — that he saw how pretty you were and his brain forgot how to work because he’s the lamest person on the planet.

So he chucks a thumb over his shoulder and fibs. “I left something back at Family Video. Had to run back.”

“It’s okay. I was just teasing,” you assure. “Uh— Are you looking for anything specific?”

“No. Not really. Just… new records to add to my collection, you know?”

“Oh, you collect vinyls?”

He doesn’t realize that’s what he’s just said until you repeat the words back to him.

He’s kind of just talking out of his ass and hoping something sticks. That line does, apparently, because you’re beaming at him instantly. He’s scared to say no because then you’ll stop smiling. And he can’t have that.

“Yep,” he answers with a nod. The stack of records collecting dust in his den has to count for something, right?

He can’t find it in himself to regret his little white lie when it has you lighting up like a christmas tree.

You toss your paintbrush down when you rush from behind the counter to meet him. You seem to have forgotten that you’d just dipped the thing in purple paint. The thing splatters shades of lilac all over the limestone bench. And, in your haste, you nearly smack yourself with the leaden slab as you raise it to pass by.

Steve’s eyes widen when you narrowly dodge the weighty thing — then jumps, startled by the dense thwap that echoes through the small store when it slams back down again. He’s almost worried that it might’ve busted the hinge.

You cower at the loud sound but move on with a commendable finesse, too focused on him to care about anything else.

“That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to collect, but records are so expensive, it’s crazy,” you ramble as you walk up to him, totally unthinking in the way you grab his forearm and usher him to the back of the store.

Your sheer black skirt swishes at your ankles as you walk. The dainty fabric is patterned with sparkly stars and crescent moons. He notices you wear a pair of dark shorts underneath for modesty. Steve tries his best not to stare at your ass. He almost succeeds.

“We actually just got in a couple of Dio records — The Holy Diver, you know, the one that just came out. I’m pretty sure there’s only, like, a couple thousand of these things in the whole world — which is totally fucking bonkers if you think about it,” you explain in one breath, laughing, before stopping abruptly in your tracks. Steve nearly runs into you when you turn around to face him.

You laugh again, a sadder one, this time at yourself, as you bring your palm to your forehead. “Sorry. I don’t— I don’t even know if you like Dio. I mean, of course, you don’t, right? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… rambled like that.”

You’d just been so excited and Steve had just been so different that you forgot who you were talking to. Hawkins High Royalty, Prom King, Biggest Flirt and Life of the Party in the yearbook.

As far as you’re concerned, Eddie Munson is your only friend. He’s the only person in the whole world you can be yourself around and never get self-conscious about any of it.

But sometimes you have moments like this one with a total stranger. Moments where you lose yourself in the conversation and your own jumbled thoughts. Moments where you talk and talk and talk until something thumps you on the head and you realize how annoying you’re being. This time, it’s the musky smell of his cologne that knocks you back to Ms. Click’s history class. The crisp breeze of bitter nostalgia makes you shiver.

Steve can see the way you get so suddenly aware of yourself and how the cognizance of the moment makes you writhe. He tries to bat away the lingering insecurities with a smile.

“Love ‘em,” he responds with a nod. He raises his brows and scoffs, grins and crosses his arms over his chest. “I mean, Dio? God, they’re like… top ten bands of all time, at least. Maybe even five.”

That isn’t totally true. He doesn’t know much about the band to have an opinion, but he’s pretty sure he might’ve said he hated them once. That was only because Eddie wouldn’t stop talking about them, though. Steve could learn to like them, if it means so much to you.

That’s exactly how he justifies spending $60 on four records.

He tells himself that he’ll listen to them and think of you, that it’ll be a solid conversation starter the next time he sees you.

You had a whole damn rack dedicated to all your favorite bands — “I put it together myself,” you’d bragged with a proud smile. S it’s a wonder Steve didn’t walk out with the entire damn store. Because you just kept on smiling and talking, so happy to have someone to care about what you had to say, and he ate up every second of it.

He’ll have to work overtime to keep his pockets from hurting, but it’ll be worth it. Because he’ll get to keep talking to you and indulging in all the things you seem to love more than life itself.

You’re still rambling as you ring him up. Steve notices you haven’t stopped yourself like you did before. His lack of dismissal has made you more comfortable, it seems. He likes that.

“I think we’re also gonna get a couple cases of Def Leppard cassettes tomorrow, which is super sick. I think I might have to start collecting, honestly. Tapes are whole lot cheaper than records, you know,” you tell him as you scan and bag all his vinyls. “And it’s also, like, a fucking stellar album. I don’t think I’ve stopped listening to Photograph since it came out.”

“Photograph. Right. Love that one,” Steve nods with a kind smile as he props his elbows on the counter. He doesn’t particularly care that he’s not entirely sure what you’re talking about, or that he’s never actually heard the song. He’s starting to realize you could talk for hours and he wouldn’t get bored.

“Oh, is that your favorite too? Eddie’s more of a Foolin’ kinda guy.”

Despite the fact that he’s never heard the song or this album in his life, he nods anyway.

He sort of spent the first eighteen years of his life faking just about everything — it kind of came with being the King of Hawkins High. It’s a talent that hasn’t yet left him, it seems, lying through his teeth to impress people. It’s almost become a second nature to him.

“Foolin’s good, yeah, but I think Photograph is obviously better.”

“Obviously, right!” you exclaim with a sunshine-coated laugh. “That’s exactly what I told him! But he’s way too hard-headed to be wrong about anything, so…”

“Well, I’d like to put it on the record that I firmly agree with you,” Steve replies so smoothly that his tongue must be dripping with honey. It’s so easy for him to fall into King Steve mode — when he isn’t forgetting how to speak and running off, that is.

You’ve learned a lot Steve in the past half hour. He likes metal, but leans more toward rock. Particularly all the metal and rock that you like. He hasn’t once had a differing opinion than you, besides telling you he heard Eddie playing a Metallica song once that he didn’t particularly care for. The second you tell him it’s one of your favorites, he backtracks instantly, blaming the Munson boy for being too sloshed to play it properly.

And you don’t miss the way he’s looking at you just now either, with his chin toward his chest as he peers up at you with warm amber eyes. He’s the charmer that he always was. It makes you remember, again, just who you’re talking to.

“We have a lot in common, King Steve,” you lilt with a playful grin.

He deflates at the use of the old nickname. You see the light in his eyes flicker for a just moment before he’s ducking his gaze away from you completely. He tries to brush it off with a laugh. “Yeah, I’m not— I’m not really King Steve anymore…”

“No?”

“Nope. Just… Just Steve these days.”

When he looks back at you, he finds you nodding at him, almost in approval.

Most people are upset to find that he’s changed so much. They hate that he’s no longer the recklessly stupid dumbass they used to get drunk with.

Not you, though.

“Cool,” you mumble, smiling softly, as you hand him his bag and receipt.

“Uh, I’d love to, you know, come take a look at those tapes when you get ‘em in,” he says as he walks backward towards the door, finally making the brash offer he’s been thinking about this whole time. “Maybe I can bring lunch and we can—”

“Well, Hellfire’s been doing campaigns during lunch recently. And Gareth’s out sick, so I’ve been subbing for him, you know, so…” you interject awkwardly, shifting your weight on your feet. You hate to turn him down, but Eddie might just kill you if he has to get a substitute for the substitute.

“Oh…” he nods, softly puckering his plump pink lips that you can’t seem to stop staring at.

“But I don’t think they’re coming in until late, anyway,” you add quickly. “So, you can stop by at closing, if you want?”

“No, yeah, that’s cool. So cool,” he replies, a little more flustered than he’d been just moments before. He’s just happy that your rejection wasn’t a total refusal.

You try to bite back the wide grin threatening to take over your mouth. “Okay… I’ll catch you later, then, Just Steve.”

“See you,” he waves right before startling himself when he backs into the basket of clearance tapes sitting just beside the door. He barely catches the thing before it tips over completely. He flashes you a shaking smile afterward and finds you covering your mouth with your hand while you try not to laugh too loudly.

He wishes you’d just went ahead and laughed at him. He wouldn’t have even cared that you were laughing at him, if it meant he got to see you smile.

And even though he’d just gotten done making the biggest fool of himself, he walks back to work feeling like the coolest man alive. There’s a foreign strut in his step that hadn’t been there before he saw you. It doesn’t leave him when he realizes he’s gone slightly over his break and that Keith is manning the counter in his absence.

The man mumbles a monotoned goodbye to the customer he’d just checked out.

She turns around and Steve realizes he recognizes this girl — Mindy or Mandy or maybe Monica — from Mr. Kaminsky’s class way back when. She did all of his homework for him before and after letting him fuck her on her twin-sized bed in her all pink room. That’s when Steve was conquering girls like they were Mount Everest, way before Nancy, when King was a title he wore with pride.

But he’s still so stuck in his head with thoughts of you that he doesn’t even see Mindy-Mandy-Monica or the flirtatious wave she throws his way.

“You’re ten minutes late,” Keith scolds, with his dead tone and his deader eyes.

Steve only shrugs, uncaring if it came out of his paycheck because — “I just got a date with the hottest woman on the planet,” he boasts with a puffed out chest and too smug smile.

It doesn’t lessen Keith’s anger, just diverts it. Because he knows exactly who he’s talking about. And so does Robin, as she pops her head out from behind the man from where she sits at the computer. “No way,” they chorus in disbelief at his words.

Steve nods. “Yes way.”

“Eddie’s gonna kill you,” Robin remarks with the shake of her head.

He knows she’s right. He just doesn’t care.

Eddie’s always been protective of you. Everyone knows that. But the two of them were friends now — or somewhat good-natured acquaintances, at the very least. He would’ve been mad about a year or more ago, if King Steve had decided to suddenly woo his best friend.

But it’s different now. He’s different now. Eddie knows how much everything’s changed, it’s just a question of if he’s willing to rehash old wounds.

It’s a good thing Steve knows how to take a punch.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Don't take my heart, don't break my heart.

Steve finds you again the next day less happy than he’s gotten used to.

The record store is dim and the red sign at the entrance has been flipped to closed, but the door is left unlocked — for him. The warm scent is a distinct contrast to the frigid spring night, a cozy high hemp and lavender, but your absence is noticeable and terribly heavy.

Steve lingers in the doorway, his shadow looming like a giant before him from the moonlight streaming in from outside.

He calls for you in the emptiness.

“Uh… Punchy?”

He’s relieved when you answer. The “back here!” you shout to him is muffled and far away. He follows the sound of your voice, filled suddenly with a childlike consolation.

The yellow fairy lights dangling over his head guide him through the aisles of cassettes and closer to you. Through a cluttered backroom, Steve finds you standing just outside an opened door — left ajar, for him.

The smile you flash when you see him is as dim as the closed-down store. It lacks all the sunshine you usually look at him with, shades of stormy gray rather than the usual yellows.

A look of concern flashes across his features — furrowed brows and inquisitive twinkling eyes — as you take a drag from the lit cigarette caught between your pointer and middle finger. You muster your best grin, but it flickers like a shoddy radio signal.

“Punchy, huh?” you tease.

Steve’s brows pinch together as confusion floods his features. It takes him a moment to realize what he’d said and the nickname he’d used — and he doesn’t want to be dramatic or anything, but he kinda wants to die. It’s embarrassing, he thinks, to hold on to an old high school monicker. And, fuck, if you hate it half as bad as he hates being called king, he deserves a slap to the face right about now.

You laugh instead of ball your first. He’s able to smile meekly in relief. “Oh. Shit. Sorry, I… I don’t think I even realized it came out.”

“No, it’s okay,” you assure when you see him getting all apologetic. “Eddie still calls me that all the time, so… Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Steve tries to move on, but it’s hard to when you’re so obviously gloomy. He hates how reserved you’ve gone in your quiet, not talking up a storm like you had been the last time he saw you. Now you’re just… a storm. It’s a little like sitting next to a rumbling rain cloud.

The rumbling rain cloud beside him takes a drag of her cigarette.

“You okay?” he asks and sounds like he really cares.

You didn’t think King Steve was capable of caring about anything other than his hair, but he looks down at you like he can feel every blue bolt of your doom and gloom. He makes you feel seen in the void of your sadness despite all the years you spent being invisible to him.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just the tapes. They didn’t come in,” you answer with a shrug. Smokes leaves your mouth and lingers in white clouds in the air. “So I’m a little bummed.”

“Oh…” is all Steve says and his pink mouth forms a too pretty ‘o’ shape that you can’t draw your gaze from.

The following silence makes you momentarily cautious. Insecurity runs cold over you because no sane person gets this about upset over a broken promise of a couple cassettes. It’s stupid, you know it is, but you were really looking forward to them. It’s like promising a kid the most metal present ever and then snatching it out of their bare hands.

Now, over the course of a couple hours, you’ve managed to convince yourself you won’t remember happiness until you get those stupid tapes.

“Sorry,” you apologize to him for a reason he can’t place. You shift your weight on your feet and peer at him from beneath your lashes. “I know you were looking forward to them, too.”

You extend your hand and offer him the cigarette between your fingers like it’s an olive branch. He takes it from you with a distant smile, then opts to laze against the brick wall like you are. He stays a respectful distance on the other side of the entryway.

“It’s okay. They’ll come. If I’m being honest, you know, I was kinda more excited to see you.”

His admission is brazen and a tad bit brash, even for a certified ex-douchebag. It lacks all of the usual honey-coated flirtation that usually tints his tone when he’s talking to a pretty girl. Because he wasn’t trying to make you swoon — though he certainly wouldn’t have minded if you had. This wasn’t some romantic advance, just a proclamation of his own personal truth.

A flash of shock contorts your features. “Really?”

“Of course,” he answers, breathing out a laugh that exits along with the smoke in his lungs. “I love talking to you. You’re… You’re cool, you know? S— Super cool.”

His face screws up at his stuttering, and he shakes his head at how the words sound leaving his mouth. His cheeks glow cherry red beneath an orange street lamp.

“Super cool, huh?” you repeat with a giggle that’s bright enough to illuminate the velvet night. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before.”

Steve scoffs when he passes the cigarette back to you. Because, lately, that’s all he’s been hearing about you. From Eddie, from Robin, from Dustin — every good thing a person could say about someone else, they all say about you.

He’s starting to understand why.

Because you’re sweet. Like, pure sugar poured on the tip of his tongue kind of sweet. You’re bright like sunshine and soft like summer rain. You’re a shot of pure espresso for a boy who thought his life was at a dead end. He’s not entirely sure how he ever could’ve thought you were some deep, dark, devil-worshipping freak.

“I don’t believe that,” he dismisses with the shake of his head.

You breathe out a sharp exhale and a puff of nicotine-coated smoke. “I’ve been the town pariah since I was eleven, Steve. Everyone thinks I’m some kinda delinquent who’s in a cult because I play a dumb board game. So, no. No one’s ever thought I was cool before.”

“Still?” Steve wonders with a twisted face. “You graduated, like, a year ago. Are... Are people really still on your ass about that?”

“A little,” you answer with a shrug, trying your best not to look as affected by it all as you feel.

Steve feels his chest swell with the fiery urge to protect you. The same one he gets when Dustin tells him about the assholes at school that are bothering him. He wants to defend you from the same sort of assholes that he used to be. The impulse is borderline primal, rooted somewhere deep and far within himself, because god knows he’s got a terrible track record when it comes to winning fights.

“Shit, Punchy… I’m— I’m sorry.”

You sputter out a laugh at the apology, louder when you realize he’s using the nickname again.

He can’t relate to any of this. The trials and tribulations of being persona non grata everywhere you went were certainly lost on him. Steve might’ve lost his touch somewhere down the road, but he’ll always be crown royalty — the kind of guy you think fondly of when your wonderyears are long gone. But you? You’re lucky if people don’t cross to the other side of the street when they spot you coming.

Perhaps that’s why his words warm you so much. Because, despite all that, he’s trying to make you feel better anyway.

You give him a tender smile and a dwindling cigarette.

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s whatever, you know? I think it’s because I still hang out with Eddie all the time. Like, people see us and remember what fucking freaks we used to be,” you say with a laugh, then start to ramble without thinking. “We saw Tommy Hagan at Melvald’s the other day, and he looked at us like we caused him severe PTSD or something, like, he looked terrified. I honestly felt a little bad.”

Steve smiles, wide-eyed, equal parts intrigued and unsettled by the reminiscent glimmer in your eye and the daunting giggle that spills from your lips.

“But I wouldn’t leave Eddie, you know?” you blurt, suddenly serious, like you’ve taken offense at the very thought. “Not even if it meant people stopped being so mean. ‘Cause I love him and everything… Even though he’s a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, he’s a total pain in the ass,” Steve agrees and flicks the butt of the cig between his fingers. “He loves you too, though. I can tell. The asshole never shuts up about you.”

“He talks about me?” you ask, voice fragile and pitched higher than normal.

Steve doesn’t like the way you say it. He hates how you look at him even more, with a scrunched up face and eyes that flicker with embers of shock. Like you don’t believe it, like you think yourself unworthy of it.

“You’re all he talks about,” the boy assures, feeling so suddenly brave and wanting to make you feel brave too. He hands the cigarette back to you. “I don’t blame him. If I were him, I’d never shut up about you either.”

The contorted look of confusion on your face untwists itself, and your features fall flat with disbelief. A smile pulls slow at your mouth. Your eyes glitter an orange gold beneath the streetlight. They flit over to the boy beside you just long enough to take the stick from him.

“Steve Harrington…” you lilt, almost scoldingly so.

It makes him smile. “What?”

“Stop flirting with me.”

“Well, that’s very presumptuous of you,” he retorts playfully. “Who’s to say I was flirting?”

“So you weren’t then?”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugs with a knowing, practiced smirk. “Can you blame me?”

You don’t seem impressed by his not-so-subtle attempt at flirting, and he isn’t at all used to that. The bravado and the puppy dog eyes are his one-two punch — any other time, he’d have a phone number tucked safely in his pocket by now. But you’re not biting.

“I’m so not your type,” you dismiss with the shake of your head.

“Yeah?” he challenges, shoving himself off the brick wall with his shoulder and making the short trek over to you. He plants himself next to you, leans with one sneaker crossed over the other, and smiles with a playful twinkle in his eye. “And what’s my type?”

“Nancy Wheeler,” you answer without missing a beat. “Pretty girls.”

“Well, I think you’re very pretty—”

“Not like her,” you interject with a foreign firmness that Steve hasn’t seen from you until now. You’re still smiling at him, though, still kind but looking like you don’t believe him. Like you think this must be some kind of sick joke that he’s taking too far.

You can entertain Steve. You like Steve. Mostly because he’s totally different from the douchebag you remember him being — the douchebag you were expecting him to be.

You find that he’s terribly clumsy and not overtly good with words. He says dumb jokes that don’t come out right and smiles in relief when they make you laugh anyway. He’s soft like peach fuzz or a fluffy cloud, mushy like warm chocolatey gooey goodness, and not at all like you remember him.

But then he does this. He morphs into something else, changes shape right in front of you. He smiles at you with little of his dumbassery behind it — all smirks and faux longing gazes with the intent of making you swoon at his feet. He grins down at you and all you see is the teenage boy who would’ve never looked at you that way four years ago. Hell, not even one.

It reminds you of who he is, who he used to be, and who you are now.

You haven’t changed so much since high school. You’ve matured a little, sure, but there was never an asshole exterior that you felt the need to outgrow. You’re still loud at times, unaware and ignorant of the world around you. You still play lightsabers outside Eddie’s trailer in between lengthy Dungeons and Dragons campaigns. You still pretend like the lingering glares from all the people you used to know don’t bother you.

They do, though. They always have.

You look at Steve and you see this butterfly — someone made of rainbow colors and mostly mature. He’s growing, and you’re stuck in the same cocoon you’ve been wrapped in since freshman year, still fumbling around and trying to figure out where you fit.

He’ll always be the pretty butterfly he always was, with his pretty little iridescent wings that catch the light and all the attention. He’ll feed off the applause he gets while you’re sitting on the sidelines. The girl who’s destined to stay bundled in her cocoon forever only hears all of his praise — never watches, never receives.

“You and I are completely different people, Steve Harrington,” you declare with a grin that tells him you’ve already made up your mind.

The boy doesn’t get it, though, why you seem so upset by the idea. Him and Robin were completely different people. Him and Dustin were, too. The two people he adored — tolerated — most in the entire world weren’t a single thing like him, and it was better that way.

You don’t seem to share a similar philosophy, though. You take a drag from your mostly gone cigarette and mourn what could have been; if only he had been the town freak or you had been born the pretty girl next door.

“That doesn’t have to be such a bad thing—”

He’s abruptly cut off by the sound of muffled rock music and the bright yellow headlights of Eddie Munson’s van. The two of you shield your eyes when he whips into the desolate parking lot and parks in front of you. The sudden intrusion feels like being blinding like the sun after you’ve found such comfort within each other in the dead of night.

The stifled Def Leppard song — or maybe Poison, Steve can never quite tell the difference — is brought to a sharp halt when the engine shuts off. The headlights dim. The metallic slam of the driver’s side door sounds so much louder in the darkness.

Eddie rounds the front of his van and eyes the two of you rather suspiciously. The boy inhales deeply, puffing out his chest and splaying his hands on his hips. “…What’s going on here?” he squints at you.

You give him a terribly manufactured sunshine smile and bat your lashes his way, like you’re pretending to be un-innocent. “Nothing…” you sing-song.

Eddie rolls his eyes at you, then turns his attention to Steve. They’re not really strangers anymore, but he still feels the need to treat him like an outsider anyway.

“Harrington,” he says in the place of any real greeting. “Don’t you have other shit to do? Like, I don’t know, a shift as the mannequin at the GAP or something?”

Steve can’t find it in himself to get self-conscious about his fitted-sweatshirt, khaki-slack combo when the insult comes from a guy in a decade-old leather jacket, unwashed t-shirt, and ripped jeans.

“Very funny,” the brunette monotones.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” you ask when you turn and walk backwards towards Eddie, like there’s a gravitational pull dragging you to him.

You say it to be polite mostly, but you’re hoping for an affirmative — a promise that you’ll have another night like this one, where he sees you just to be seeing you. Hell, you’ll even take a nod if that’s all he’ll give you. And when he does, he gives you a tiny smile that almost makes you trip over yourself.

Fuck, you think to yourself, like your brain is talking to your heart. We just agreed not to do that.

Before you get in the van, you walk by Eddie and bring your cigarette up to his mouth. You coax the stick between his lips with your pointer and middle finger, opting to let him take the last couple of hits because he never turns down a free smoke.

The passenger door shuts once you’re tucked into the seat of it. The sound it makes punctuates your absence. Steve feels all of its emptiness.

He eyes Eddie from the distance, immediately noticing the darkened skepticism dancing in his dark eyes.

The boy’s always felt the need to protect you. When the entire town got spooked about stories of some satanic panic and started treating you like monsters, he wanted to shield you from the boogeyman everyone turned into.

Steve wasn’t one of them, the bad men. But Eddie loves you and it’s made him doubtful.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Steve feels the need to say, as though he’d been caught with his pants down and not just sharing an innocent cigarette with a friend.

Eddie takes the final few puffs of it and exhales rather dramatically, lips pursing to blow it in his direction though it’s too far away to hit him. The boy throws the filter to the concrete and extinguishes the ashes with the toe of his dirty sneakers.

He waits until the white smoke has fully dissipated to speak.

“Damn right, it isn’t.”

That’s all he says. He doesn’t even look at Steve when he says it, or when he rounds the van and hops into the driver’s seat next to you. Steve squints when the too bright headlights come alive again in time with the roaring engine and dated rock music. His tires screech when he speeds out of the back parking lot.

The tin can he drives nearly tips over when he turns too sharply onto Main Street.

Steve doesn’t get a chance to get a good look at you before you’re gone completely. It makes him all boyishly upset, knowing the hours without you will be most agonizing, but the empty feeling is eclipsed by the warm relief of not getting clock cleaned by Eddie Munson.

Damn right, it isn’t. Four words. That’s all he gets. But they’re daunting and coated with a lingering foreboding that feels almost like a threat.

So, by all accounts, Steve probably should’ve known there was no way Munson was ever going to back down that easily.

Eddie comes back the next day, a thundering storm cloud of the boy he usually is, head wild with curly hair and a million thoughts.

The door dings far too gently for such an aggressive arrival. Metal bangs against metal as the handle collides with the window pane. He stomps to the counter in several quick strides, dark eyes darting around the half-empty store — obviously searching for something.

Robin, manning the front counter, is entirely unable to be threatened by him. The all black, chunky metal rings, and crazy hair stopped being so intimidating when she found out you called him Eddie Spaghetti. Now, it’s all she can think about when she sees him.

Even as he stands ahead of her, obviously upset, all she sees is a very cartoonishly angry Eddie Spaghetti, and it takes everything in her not to laugh.

“Where’s Steve?” the boy finally wonders when he realizes the boy’s not in the front.

“Uh, he’s in the back, I think. Why?”

Eddie doesn’t humor her with an answer. He just storms past the counter and makes a b-line for the break room.

Robin watches him over her shoulder. “You’re not supposed to go back there!” she half-heartedly shouts, but makes no further effort to stop him from doing so.

He finds Steve working beneath the dim yellow light of the back room. There’s a warmed-up container of leftovers on the small round table on one side of the room and a stack of unorganized tapes on the counter on the other. Steve multitasks between both and hums something summery under his breath — The Beach Boys, maybe.

He’s too distracted to notice Eddie’s abrupt appearance. It’s the subtle click of the shut door that gets his attention.

Steve’s confused at first. His head snaps over his shoulder like a ghost must’ve closed the door on him. He realizes that it’s just Eddie, and he’s so innocently relieved that it’s almost humorous, then confused all over again. His brows pinch together and through the chicken tender jutting out his check, he mumbles: “You’re not supposed to be back here—”

“Yeah, I got that part,” Eddie interrupts in a monotone.

He swallows. It’s as thick as the tension that settles between the two of them, made heavier by the lengthy silence. He crosses his arms over his chest, stands up a little straighter, and bares his neck when he lifts his chin. “I want you to leave her alone.”

Steve scoffs and chews through his mouthful. “Leave who alone?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” Eddie squints with an unusual sort of seriousness. “I don’t want you messing around with her anymore, man. I’m, fucking— I’m so fucking serious right now.”

The clarification makes Steve laugh. He shakes his head and goes back to piling the myriad of tapes into organized stacks on the counter. “We were just talking, Eddie. I don’t need the lecture, okay?”

“We both know it’s never just talking with you.”

“What? Are you in love with her or something?” he retorts, trying to make a joke of it.

Eddie, for the first time in his life, isn’t amused. “Oh, god, get over yourself, dude. I know what kinda guy you are, alright? I’m not gonna let you hurt her.”

His words hit Steve like a pot of boiling water. It prickles his skin, leaving blisters and burning red blotches in its wake. He’s all but on fire with his anger, less offended by the accusation than by the person it comes from.

Steve and Eddie aren’t friends by any means. They’re just two guys with shared custody of a bunch of teenagers, bonded in their want to keep them all safe. But through their lighthearted animosity, is a sort of understanding: neither of them are the assholes the entire town claims them to be. Eddie isn’t apart of some satanic cult. Steve isn’t a douchebag that uses women as accessories. And that’s just a silent agreement they’ve both come to on their own terms.

But now here they are, talking like it’s 1984 all over again and they’re strangers who hate each other’s guts.

“No. I’m not gonna hurt her. Because we’re just friends, Eddie.”

The boy just shakes his head. He scrunches his nose like he’s wincing, then laughs — a big, dramatic laugh that fills the tiny break room. He begins to pace, waving an accusatory ringed finger Steve’s way. “No, see… That’s the thing. I don’t think King Steve is capable of being ‘just friends’ with a pretty girl.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a heavy huff. He comes to the conclusion that Eddie’s just projecting and that there’s no use in arguing his case. He shoves a black VHS tape into its designated sleeve and slots it in with the rest of them, muttering under his breath, “I’m not King Steve anymore…”

“What?”

“I said, I’m not King Steve anymore!” he yells, a bit louder than he intended to.

He drives a tape onto the pile with an unexpected aggression. It hits the wall with a resounding thud. His arms flail wildly at his sides when he turns to face Eddie again. “God, you guys act like people can’t change! I’m not the asshole I used to be, alright? Jeez…”

Eddie exhales sharply through his nose in the place of any real reply. Deep down, he knows all that. He knows it’s all true because he would’ve never befriended him otherwise. Steve Harrington — the king, the rich kid, the douchebag — turned out to be a pretty damn good guy.

And maybe if Eddie didn’t love you so much, he’d be able to wrap his head around all that.

But does. So he can’t.

He saw you two together the night before, sharing a cigarette behind The Groove — albeit a little too close for his liking — and suddenly, it was junior year all over again.

You’re stressed out about the ACT and college acceptance rates, none of your clothes quite fit you, and you’re trying out bold things with your makeup that don’t quite fit you either. You grin wildly up at Eddie through the vibrant lipstick smeared on your lips, laughing at his half-hearted attempt to cheer you up.

And Steve is a senior, standing on the other side of the hallway — with his pretty clothes and prettier hair — and he lets all of his friends laugh at you. They make fun of your un-styled hair and the way your shirt makes your boobs look, and Steve doesn’t find any of it particularly funny but he lets them mock you anyway.

Eddie sees you together and forgets about the man Steve is now. All he sees is a boy who never stuck up for you, for either of you, who let his best friends make your lives hell because his reputation mattered more.

And it wasn’t like it was his job to defend you, because it wasn’t. Not really. It’s just that you would’ve done it for him, if the roles were reversed. Eddie, too. Neither of you would’ve let a lamb be led to the slaughter quite like that. It was the Hellfire motto, after all — to protect the little sheep from the creeping wolves.

That’s where the difference lies. It’s where the mistrust settles deep and where the root of all of Eddie’s worries lingers.

But Steve has done more to prove himself than Eddie likes to give him credit for.

He takes care of a bunch of kids like it’s his job. He runs Robin to and from school most days out of the week, on time each morning — which, for a guy who showed up late every day for four years, was definitely saying something. He even comes to Eddie’s shows when he’s not too busy working the graveyard shift, never minding that he sticks out in his collared shirt and slacks — a pretty boy amidst a crowd of freaks.

Fuck. Steve Harrington was a pretty alright dude.

But you’re better than alright. You’re better than good. Better than perfect.

If you got your heart broken, Eddie thinks he’d feel all of it times a thousand.

Steve’s been through his own kind of heartbreak, though. He’s slapped a bandaid over his own bleeding heart, and it’s made him soft. The good kind of soft — the kind where he sees a bug on its back and has to flip it over because it hurts too much to let it suffer. Eddie knows he’ll be that kind to you. Kinder, even.

“Yeah, you better hope so, Harrington,” the boy concludes with a slow nod of his wild head. He steals a chicken tender from the styrofoam box it sits in, like it’s some kind of power move, and waves it at him like a condemnatory point. “I hear you do anything — anything — to her… And your ass is grass.”

Eddie takes a hearty bite from the strip, then tosses it back into the container again. He spins on the ragged heel of his sneaker and stalks out of the break room, punctuating his absence with the slam of the door. The ancient thing gets lodged and doesn’t quite shut all the way, so he has to double back and shut it fully.

Steve is left dumbfounded, in more ways than one.

“…He just ate my chicken,” he mumbles to himself with a frown settled deep between his brows. But there’s a lingering tension in Eddie’s storming out — a tangible fog within his words that settles something heavy in the Family Video breakroom that doubles as storage.

It feels almost like a blessing.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Won't escape my attention...

The more time you spend with Steve, the more confident you get.

You visit him at work more often, caring less and less about bothering anybody when you realize they all wanted you there. You let yourself ramble in front of him, too, not stopping yourself nearly as often as you used to. Steve guesses you started to believe him somewhere around the millionth time he promised he liked hearing you talk.

You turn to glitter in his presence, becoming more unapologetically yourself and glowing with it — with all the things that used to make you insecure, things that King Steve would’ve made fun of you for some time ago. Everything you were scared made you too different, is why he liked you in the first place.

And Steve gets to watch it all play out right before his eyes. You inch slowly out of the protective shell you’ve built around yourself and bloom like springtime flowers. He’s grateful he gets to witness it, even more that you feel comfortable enough to do it all in front of him.

You’re hardly as timid as you usually are when you saunter into Family Video. Rather than tiptoeing in and apologizing for intruding, you burst through the front door with a beam and a high-pitched squeal. You’re as bright as every star in the galaxy combined; even dressed head-to-toe in black, you’re more blinding than the sun.

Eddie’s leather jacket, either stolen or unenthusiastically lent from the boy himself, swallows your upper half. You wear a piece of Metallica merchandise beneath it. The thing is cut up to your ribcage. The jagged edges in the fabric, likely from a dull pair of kitchen scissors, tells him the chop was intentional.

A leather skirt clings effortlessly onto you, revealing the pudge of your stomach and the curves of your hips. The thing is donned with two spiked belts and several chains hanging loosely at your waist.

Steve is dozing at the counter with his chin propped on his first when you walk in. He’s half-asleep until he sees you. The shot of espresso that walks in makes him instantly forget how tired he is.

“Guess what?” you ask with wide, sparkling eyes as you skip to the counter with your hands behind your back.

Steve always hated that question. Usually, it came from Dustin or Robin — or, god forbid, both of them — followed by a “No, seriously. Guess.” It left him with no choice but to humor them until they ultimately caved and told him something he couldn’t have guessed in a million years.

He isn’t so annoyed now, though. In fact, he smiles. “What?” he replies.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, as though in a futile attempt to conceal the wide grin on your face, and take your hands from behind your back. You flash him the cassette tape you hold in the palm of them, a blue and yellow thing with the angled Def Leppard logo printed on the cover.

“No way!” Steve finds himself exclaiming like he’s the number one fan of the rock and roll band. He isn’t; never has been, really. But he is a fan of you. All of his excitement, all of his bright and shining smiles — they’re all for you.

“They came in last night— when I was off, of course— and I opened this morning and there was a whole damn tower of these tapes! I’m the one who does the tape towers, okay? Plus, I’ve been doggin’ my manager for weeks about the things, so I can’t believe they came in and no one told me, you know?”

Steve gets lost in your rambling right along with you, nodding because he never wants you to stop talking. His twinkling gaze follows you back and forth as you pace in front of the counter. You gesticulate wildly with your hands, nearly elbowing a customer when they get too close to the line of fire.

“And she was all like ‘I can’t control when they come in,’ And I was like ‘well, you can’t control when I come in either, I’ll be taking a long lunch now, thank you’—” you recount, albeit at a slightly louder volume that shocks anyone who doesn’t know you. People shoot you lingering side eyes from over the aisles.

Steve doesn’t care. He’s even happier that you don’t seem to either. You feel comfortable enough with him now to stop caring about the rest. When you stop yourself, you do it because you’ve said everything you need to say, not because you feel like you’ve annoyed him in some way.

“Anyway,” you conclude with a sigh. “I wanted to run it to you personally because, besides Eddie, you’re the only person I know who cares as much as I do.”

You smile sweetly at him, peering at him through your lashes, so suddenly timid — no longer the boisterous girl lighting up the whole room. Steve notices that you do that a lot, go from loud and sunny to shy and glimmering. Eddie does it too, sometimes, but it’s not nearly as cute.

“My wallet’s in my locker,” he tells you when you hand him the tape. He cocks his thumb over his shoulder with his free hand. “Let me go grab it. I’ll be, like, two seconds—”

You reach over the counter and take him by the arm, wrapping chipped maroon nails around the crook of his elbow to keep him from straying too far. Shock coats his features at the suddenness of your touch and the way it makes him buzz.

You scoff. “Are you serious? I’m not gonna make you pay, you weirdo.”

“No?”

“Of course not! It’s a gift.”

“Well, gee, Punchy. Considered me flattered,” he concedes with a faltering smile.

You laugh at his half-hearted attempt to be charming.

He rests his crossed arms on the counter and leans over the top of it in an effort to be the slightest bit closer to you. He gazes up at you with honey eyes and raised brows and a big, dumb smile. “And, you know, flattery... it goes a long way with me.”

You arch an un-manicured brow at him. “Does it, now?”

“Yep. So much so, I’m willing to break a few rules and let you pick out a couple of movies. On the house.”

It’s dumb and it’s sweet and so terribly innocent. He wants to give you so much than that but he’s got about eighteen dollars to his name, so all he can do is offer you a few measly VHS tapes. It has you beaming like he just offered you the world.

“Steve Harrington,” you scold playfully. “I didn’t know you were so naughty.”

He falters. His resolve slips and, for no more than half a second, his brain forgets how to work.

He’s not quite sure how you manage to do that to him all the damn time. You make his brain shortcircuit and his belly quiver and his vision swim. He’s known you for a while now, long enough that the lovesickness should’ve well worn off.

Steve’s worried that there’s no cure for you, that he’s in it for the long haul now — upset stomachs, heart palpitations, and all.

“Well, I’m full of surprises,” he shrugs and sways on his feet. “What’s your poison, Punchy? Molly Ringwald? Robert Downey Jr.? The John Hughes type?”

You can tell he’s joking. You squint over at him and rest your elbows on the counter top your face-to-face.

The wintergreen mint on his breath makes your head swim.

Your rouge-tined lips are so close he can taste them — he wants to, desperately so.

You don’t miss the way his gaze flits to your mouth, lingering there for no longer than a blink.

“Try Night of the Living Dead,” you challenge.

“That is so dreadfully on brand for you,” he manages to reply without much stuttering. He’s surprised he’s able to get any words out at all, with the way his heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

“I’m nothing if not predictable.”

Steve doesn’t respond as he leaves the counter to get what you asked for. Silence is easier than saying that you’re the most surprising thing he’s ever met in his life.

When he returns, he brings the entire film franchise with him. All three movies are stacked in his arms and he scans the backs of them, hoping Keith won’t notice that they’re being rented free of charge.

“Have you ever seen them?” you wonder.

He shakes his head. “No. I saw one of them at a drive-in a long time ago, but I wasn’t exactly paying attention, if you know what I mean—” he answers with a soft laugh, quick to cut himself off. It was supposed to be a dumb joke, but both of you know what he was insinuating and it makes everything awkward.

Robin would’ve slapped him on the back of the head if she were around to hear it.

He would’ve deserved it.

“Well, you missed out,” you scold, not quite meeting his gaze. “They’re actually pretty good.”

“I’ll try and watch ‘em sometime then.”

“Tonight?” you offer suddenly.

Steve furrows his brows. “…Huh?”

“I mean, like— I don’t know… I thought maybe we could watch them tonight,” you stammer with your eyes turned down toward the counter, where you draw invisible patterns onto the granite with the tip of your finger. “Like, together… if you want.”

Steve is momentarily speechless. He’s spent weeks plotting how he was going to ask you out. It would come to him in waves. He’d feel like he’d concocted the most perfect, foolproof plan right before realizing there was no way in hell he could ever go through with it — all in the same fleeting thought.

But here you are, biting the bullet for the both of you.

He’s grateful. He thinks he’s dreaming.

“That sounds…” Steve trails off with the mindless nod of his head. “Yeah. No. Totally. That sounds… really cool.”

A wide smile pulls at the edges of your lips. You purse your mouth to the side in attempts to conceal it. “Cool,” you murmur all cool-ly, like his affirmation isn’t heaven to your ears.

“Uh, not to sound like a total douchebag or whatever, but my dad— he’s got this theater room and everything, and my parents are almost never home,” Steve rambles as he puts all three movies into a paper bag. Then his eyes go wide and his face glows cherry red. “Not like that! I didn’t mean it like— That sounded really weird… I’m sorry—”

You giggle at him, at the way he can pretend to be so suave, and then reveal all the marshmallow fluff he tries to keep hidden a moment later. “It’s okay, Steve. I got what you meant.”

He writes his address on a yellow sticky note with the Family Video logo printed in green at the very top. His handwriting is boyish and sloppy, the sign of a boy who never did care much about school. Some letters are connected, others far apart; some written too big, while others are too small. You find it endearing, but Steve knows it’s just because his hand was shaking something fierce.

He leaves his number written at the very bottom. Just for good measure.

“No funny business, alright, Harrington?” you joke, waving a ringed finger at him as you walk backward out of the store, heading back to your own job.

Steve bites back a smile. Once upon a time, he was all funny business. No girl was ever going to invite King Steve over and not expect some heavy petting. And he wants so badly to kiss you — fuck, he wants to kiss you all the time — but the want to spend innocent time with you eclipses all of those boyish feelings.

He yearns to be close to you. Like magnets. Or a moon and the ocean’s tide.

“No funny business,” he promises.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You keep your distance with a system of touch.

It isn’t until you arrive at the front gates of the Harrington home you realize you’ve never been in the suburbs of Hawkins before.

You grew up on the very outskirts of town, where there were more trees than people or houses. The block was half rundown already and horribly secluded. The only interesting thing about it was the winding trail through the woods that led to the anterior of Forest Hills trailer park.

That’s where you spent the bulk of your time, practically living with Eddie and Wayne in their one-bedroom trailer, until you felt guilty enough to go back home for a day or two. Your parents would inevitably remind you why you ran off in the first place, and then the cycle would start all over again.

It was all just far enough away from Hawkins that you could pretend like the town’s bullshit didn’t exist. The freak from the wrong side of the tracks didn’t belong on Maple Street or Fairview Road or Laurel Avenue. That was for people who could afford new shoes every school year, who could go clothes shopping and not feel guilty about cutting into their food money, who were set up with trust funds before they were even born.

But here you are now, on Fairview Road, seven o’clock sharp, and standing in front of the biggest house you’d ever seen.

You ring the doorbell and flinch when it’s louder than expected. The chime is light and jaunty. You wonder if it’s been programmed for the change in season.

Steve answers no more than a couple seconds later. He swings both French doors open, arms spreading wide like the smile on his face.

He’s traded in his slacks for comfier jeans and his vest for a form-fitting sweatshirt he’s bunched at the elbows. You realize, then, that you’ve never seen him without the forest green Family Video jacket. It makes him look naked, almost, like a totally different person — no longer the dork who works a measly nine-to-five with his best friend and visits the freak next door on the off chance his manager won’t dock his pay for it.

The vest had humbled him to a certain extent. Now he just looks cool. Like the boy people would either praise or avoid like the plague, for fear of getting in King Steve’s path — just a little bit more mature looking now, with his chiseled jaw and scruffy chin.

It makes you feel a little stupid from where you stand on the porch ahead of him, wearing the same thing he’d seen you in earlier that day. He’s got no idea you spent the past couple of hours agonizing over what to wear. For the sake of not seeming crazy overzealous, you opted not to dress up. Now you’re scared he thinks you just didn’t care enough to.

But you do care. So goddamn much that’s it scary.

You never had to worry about what you wore or what you looked like before you left the house, about what you had too much of and what you lacked. Now, it’s all you can think about.

If Steve notices anything at all, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps on smiling at you, too happy to see you to care about what you’re wearing. He’s just glad that you showed up.

Truth be told, he had a six-pack and Robin’s number on speed dial on the off chance you canceled on him. He was preparing himself to wallow in self-pity and spend the rest of the night ranting to his best friend about the bleeding heart he had for you. Because, as far as he was concerned, you were far too good to be true.

You were beautiful and funny and kind and perfect. You treat him like you’ve known him for years, like he didn’t spend so many of them avoiding you in attempts to keep some measly title that didn’t mean shit. You were too perfect. Sometimes, Steve gets scared that he just made you up.

But whether you’re a dream come true or the real thing, you’re standing on his front porch anyway, with a smile and a bottle of grocery store wine.

He saves the beer in his fridge and the wallowing for another day.

Steve escorts you through his lavish living room and to the downstairs area that’s got a movie screen hanging on the walls and a couple of leather couches sitting in front of it. The coffee table in front of them holds a myriad of glass bowls — popcorn, various candies, and more popcorn.

“You planning on throwin’ a party down here, Harrington?” you tease with a soft chuckle, trying to conceal how your heart’s about to burst at the mere sight of it all.

“Well, I just— I didn’t know what you liked, and I didn’t— I wanted to make sure you had something to eat, you know,” the boy stammers out. He brings the palm of his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “So I just… I got… everything.”

“It’s a good thing a like everything then, huh?” you smile at him as you pluck a Red Vine from its dedicated bowl. You rip off an inch or two with your teeth and then talk as you chew: “I hope you’re prepared for all of this shit get eaten, Harrington. I can get quite ravenous.”

Steve nods to himself and tries not to smile too big. “Sounds entertaining… Maybe I’ll just watch you instead of the movie.”

It was supposed to be a joke.

But then you settled down next to him on the couch, keeping a respectful distance but sharing the same fuzzy blanket, and he has to physically force himself to drag his gaze away from you.

He was right about what he said before, you were far more entertaining than the black and white film projected ahead of him — grabbing handfuls of popcorn at a time and quoting the movie through the mouthful.

It’s a tad bit barbaric, the faintest bit off-putting, and otherworldly levels of endearing. It leaves him virtually unable to take his eyes off of you.

He didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but you keep on proving him wrong.

He’s starting to realize he doesn’t know shit.

You’re slowly coming to the same understanding.

You’ve heard stories about Steve. Usually from gossiping cheerleaders standing in circles at their lockers or whispering in the back of a classroom. Doomed as the freak and all but banished from the inner society of Hawkins High, you became an observer. You were so invisible that people sometimes didn’t realize they were talking right over you, sharing secrets they wouldn’t want someone else to get a hold of.

But apparently you were the exception. Because you weren’t a someone to them.

They talked about how kind he was, how well endowed, how they were meant to go on some stupid date but missed their reservation because Steve got a little too handsy beforehand, and how they spent the rest of the night with their hands shoved down each other’s pants at Lover’s Lake.

You were seeing, firsthand, how much he’d changed. How he made his promise of no funny business and how he was sticking to it — no teasing you about the whole thing with a knowing smirk and flirtatious honey eyes, no urging to close this distance between you, no tiny touches on your arm or thigh in the hopes of heavier petting.

He spends the entirety of the first movie perfectly respectful. Just like you’d asked him to be.

And it was nice, knowing that you weren’t wasting your evening with some asshole who was only spending time with you in the hopes of you putting out later. But it leaves you the faintest bit empty. Hungry. You long for his touch like a missed meal. Starving and feeling it all.

It’s not even heavy petting you want, you just want to feel him next to you — to press yourself into his side and to warm yourself with him like a blanket.

But you weren’t a pretty cheerleader or a girl dripping in expensive clothes and daddy’s money. You were the weirdo, the freak, the loudmouth nerd, Punchy — all names you wore proudly, like lit-up signs or steel armor.

Until now.

Now you think if you weren’t Punchy, if were you someone different, then maybe he’d want to touch you more.

The first hour and thirty-seven minutes of your favorite movie are strangely agonizing.

Your hands itch with the desire to touch the boy next to you, and they busy themselves with the bowls of candy and savory junk food splayed out on the table in front of you. It’s mindless more than it is anything. You’re absentminded binging does nothing more than half-distract you from the thoughts raging rivers in your skull.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it until your hand falls into an empty bowl of popcorn and finds nothing but kernels at the bottom of it.

It makes Steve laugh, thinking you were just too into the movie to notice — having no idea it was him taking up all your brain power.

He leaves to fix more snacks for you while you slip the second VHS into the movie player. He returns with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and two beers after the wine bottle has been sufficiently emptied. When he plops down next to you again, it’s in the same spot he’d been sitting in all night — a couple of excruciating inches away.

Under the guise of sharing the popcorn in his lap, you make the too bold decision to slither in at his side. It’s innocent at first — your thighs just barely graze and your elbows bump when you dip your hands into the bowl. And it’s still innocent some thirty minutes later, when you find yourself resting your head on his shoulder with your legs curled up behind you.

Steve tenses when he feels your temple pressed against him, but only for a moment before he relaxes again. It makes him all suddenly warm and self-aware of every movement he makes. He tries not to breathe too heavy or shift too often, for fear it might jostle you too much. He doesn’t want to stop feeling you against him like this, even if it’s got his skin prickling with a searing form of anxiety.

“Don’t tell me you’re falling asleep,” he jokes.

“Of course not. It’s way too riveting,” you scoff, even though he can feel you cuddling further into him. Your cheek rubs against the soft cotton of his sweatshirt when you look up at him. He turns his head to peer down at you and his nose nearly grazes your forehead.

He finds you with a certain glint in your eye. It’s borderline playful, like it so often is, but coated with a sweetness that drips over him like honey. “You like it so far?” you wonder.

“Yeah,” the boy nods quickly. He couldn’t tell you what had happened the past two-and-a-half films, but he could tell you how your jaw tenses when you chew and how your smile curls just before you laugh out loud and how your eyes widen every time you quote the movie. “It’s really good. I like it.”

You beam at him before turning back to the projector again. You shift to get more comfortable against him. “Good.”

By the third movie, you’re somehow even closer.

Truth be told, Day of the Dead wasn’t your favorite in the trilogy, so it left your mind wandering to far off places — namely, the pretty boy sitting beside you. He goes to put the tape into the projector, feeling immediately cold without pressing into his side, and when he returns he tries his best not to beg you to cuddle against him again.

“My shoulder’s gettin’ real cold over here,” he tries to joke.

You see right through his beckoning, though. It makes you happy to know he wants it just as much as you do.

“Just say you wanna be next to me, Harrington,” you tease like you aren’t happily obliging him. You snuggle into his shoulder and rest your head against him while your arms curl around his bicep.

“I wanna be next to you,” he repeats, a playful smile on his lips though his gaze softens with sincerity. “Is that so bad?”

You shake your head against him in reply. Suddenly as mushy as the boy beside you, you turn to look up at him. “Not unless it’s bad that I wanna be next to you, too…”

“Nah. It’s not bad,” he assures in something short of a whisper. “Guess I’m just glad I’m not the only one that’s so far gone.”

He doesn’t elaborate on what he means by that. He doesn’t have to.

Perhaps it’s the admission that this boy is so far gone for you that gives you a sudden burst of confidence. Maybe it’s the comforting feeling of being seen, of knowing you’re no longer alone in your similar far gone-ness. Each feels like rays of sunshine to your skin and has you pressing your lips to his wanting ones without much thought.

The plump pink of his mouth are magnets for yours. They meet and lock together with little effort, almost destined to do it. It’s a soft, meager, and lingering little peck that sucks you both in a little too easily. It’s hard to pull away from him, but when you do, your lips click in protest.

Then there’s a look, then a deafening silence that says more words than either of you were capable of forming in that moment. His amber eyes dart between both of yours, asking a question without saying a goddamn thing. One that you answer with your own softening gaze.

And it’s almost better than the kiss itself, the swirling feeling in the pits of your stomach, the knowing of what’s about to happen.

A silent plea and a blink later and his lips are on yours again.

It’s an awkward mess of yearning mouths and tangled limbs as the both of you fight to find purchase on one another. Your fingers knot in the collar of his sweatshirt, pulling him impossibly closer, while his grip the bare skin of your waist from where your shirt had ridden up. His touch makes you buzz, like a static shock or a bolt of lightning.

Steve makes several observations when he feels you melt into him like honey on toast. He notices how you press yourself into him, like you won’t be satisfied until you’ve swallowed him whole, and how it has you kissing him like you’re scared he’ll pull away — like you’ll open your eyes and he won’t be real.

You’re as domineering against his mouth as you are in real life, still as all-consuming and overpowering as the girl he’s gotten so familiar with.

He doesn’t realize how you’ve settled so intently on top of him until his back meets the pillowy cushion of the leather couch. You don’t either, until he exhales a sharp gasp against your cupid’s bow. Then you part from him, for the first time in several minutes, breathing in the oxygen your lungs had just begun to scream for.

Steve finds you with kiss-bitten lips and glassy eyes that look upon him with a softness that he didn’t know existed until now. He smirks with his own swollen and pinker mouth like he isn’t glowing red beneath you.

“I thought you said no funny business,” he manages to tease through bated breaths.

You don’t bother to make up excuses for yourself. You’re already on top of him, all over him — you’ve already kissed him like you would’ve died if you hadn’t. Now, you’re straddling him, caging him between your legs and under your torso. You’ve settled on top of him with a comforting weightiness, like you’re building a home in the familiarity you’ve sought in him.

“I lied,” you mutter with a lazy shrug. A sly smile pulls slowly at your lips until you’re all but beaming sunbeams down at him. He revels in your warmth. “’S not my fault you’re so damn cute.”

It’s easier to blame it on him for all the reasons you’re attached to him like a magnet to his metal, your moth to his flame. You part his lips with your mouth, rut your tongue against his own, reveling in the foreign familiarity of it all, and then blame him for the way you can’t seem to stop any of it.

Steve doesn’t seem to mind, though. The way his hands find purchase on your hips, petting the warmed skin there and sometimes squeezing to pull you further down onto him, tells you that he has a similar yearning to melt with you. He lets you kiss him all slow, allows you to taste all of him, and doesn’t rush you in your process. It’s comforting, tender. Free.

He’s not used to being on his back like this. Usually, he’s the one taking control. It’s his mouth that does all the work. So, it’s strange to be under you and to have you above him. But it’s more pleasant in an even stranger way not to be rushed — not to have to do all the work. His mouth opens so obediently for you and finds an effortless rhythm with your lips and your tongue.

It’s the easiest thing he’s ever done in his life, kissing you.

He delights in every ounce of the warmth and unfamiliarity you press to his mouth, and tries to shove down feelings of unworthiness that simmer in his chest while you do so.

You don’t part until your mouths are numb and tingling with it.

Your lips are more vibrant in their color, aflame and swollen from being so ardently kissed and sucked and bitten. Neither of you mind making out like a couple of teenagers. It’s comforting to know that things won’t go further than a couple soft touches on burning skin. It was never supposed to be anything more than that, anyway. It was just about being close to each other.

You’ve almost succeeded in your effort to melt into the boy beneath you, when you hear the distant sound of a door opening and closing again. Muffled voices follow — unknown to you but obviously familiar to him.

You part from him without thinking, like you’re a couple of kids again who’ll get in trouble if your parents ever found out what you were doing down here. Steve groans at the loss of you and in annoyance at the sound of his parents. His heavy eyes fall shut and his head leans back to the couch cushions as he fights to swallow down all of his anger.

His parents never really come around these days. They’ve got a bigger home in the city, closer to his dad’s work, and they choose to stay there most days of the week — month.

They used to make excuses for why they left their only son behind. It’s five minutes from your dad’s firm. There’s more opportunity for your mom’s real estate business. Oh, don’t be so selfish, Steven, you’ll finally have the place to yourself. It’s a win-win for all of us.

Steve didn’t want their excuses. It was actually easier with them gone.

But they come around every now and again, whenever it’s most convenient for them, and treat their arrival like something that needs to be celebrated. Like they aren’t supposed to be with their child in the fucking first place. And they somehow manage to pick the most inconvenient times for him, like they know he’s in a bind and want to see him struggle to get out of it.

Usually, it’s when he’s in between paychecks — when they want to take him out to some fancy dinner he could barely afford anyway, but especially when he’s hardly making it until payday. Now, it’s when he’s got the prettiest girl he’s ever seen on top of him, and he’s all hot and half-hard. Steve doesn’t want to let them ruin the moment, as good as they are at it.

“It’s okay. They won’t come in here,” he assures when he feels you tense at the unexpected company. “My mom will go to the bedroom and my dad will go to his office. We’re good, I promise.”

You figure he’s right. The voices grow more and more distant. Heeled shoes click up and up the stairs while heavy stomps head the opposite way. But you’ve already been so woefully knocked out of your stupor that you’re scared it’s too late.

Your lips are numb and the credits are rolling and you’re on top of this beautiful boy and you have no idea how you got there.

It’s almost frightening, the way Steve had consumed you mind, body, and soul by just existing next to you. You become dreadfully hyperaware of the whole thing — of who you are, who he is, and what you’re doing. You lose all your softness and turn to ice, hardening and shrinking back into yourself.

“I should—” you start before clearing your throat when the words come out heavier than expected. “I should head out anyway.”

“Oh,” is all Steve can say. “Right.”

You stare down at him, chest still pressed against his, nose nearly touching the tip of his own. “I just— I have to open tomorrow and everything, so—”

“No. Yeah. Yeah, I— I get it.”

You make tricky work of untangling yourselves.

His legs twist with yours when you both try to rise from the couch at the same time. Then your ring gets stuck in the fabric of his shirt, but not before his belt buckle gets somehow caught in yours. It’s like fate is protesting the imminent parting, but neither of you are paying attention to the signs.

He walks you to your car and chuckles under his breath as you scurry to the front door.

You’re not-so-distantly terrified of running into his parents. They probably wouldn’t mind that he’s sneaking around with a girl, surely that they’re used to, but you’re almost certain they’re not used to girls like you. Girls with wild hair and leather skirts and chunky boots and too bold makeup.

You’re not the girl next door. You’re the girl parents warn their sons about. “Leave that girl alone,” they say. “She’s nothing but trouble.”

You tell him all of this on the short trek to your half-broken-down car when you catch him laughing at you about the whole thing. You say it in jest, lighthearted and trying to make a joke of it. But there’s an underlying melancholia to your tone that reveals every truth you’re trying to evade.

“They don’t care enough about me to give a shit about a girl I’m with, I promise,” he confesses with a laugh that sounds more like a sad scoff than anything else. His chocolate eyes turn gold beneath the yellow street light. He smirks at you. “Besides, I don’t know if I told you this or not, but my middle name is actually trouble, so… I think we might be a match made in heaven.”

You roll your eyes at his attempts to flirt with you, though his lack of finesse makes you smile. “You’re an idiot, Steve Actually Trouble Harrington.”

“You really know how to say goodbye, don’t ya?” he grins when you reach the curb where your tin can car sits.

“Yeah, I’m pro,” you shrug with a teasing glint in your eye, then you beam. “I’ll see you around, ‘kay?”

“Totally,” he nods, suddenly forlorn at having to leave you like he hadn’t just spent the past four hours with you.

Themetallic click of your car door opening sounds much louder in the emptiness of the suburbs. You glance at the boy right before you sink into the driver’s seat, feeling your heart swell with something short of yearning — anticipation.

You weren’t actually a professional at saying goodbye, you find, because you’re realizing how hard it is to leave him.

“Steve!” he hears you shout from across the lawn when he’s halfway up the drive.

He turns around, expecting to hear you tease him some more or tell him you were having car troubles. Neither would’ve shocked him. You’ve got a smart mouth and a shittier car. But you keep on surprising him, all but launching yourself into him before kissing him harder than he’s ever been kissed before.

Steve tenses against you at first, then relaxes again in record time. He sighs in the comfort of having your body pressed so intently into his and your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him somehow closer.

You feel the breath of his exhale fan against your cupid’s bow. It makes you smile, and he feels the expression contort against his lips. His hands rise to the widest part of your hips without thinking. It’s all muscle memory now.

And even though he’s spent the better part of an hour kissing you, this one is so obviously different. This wasn’t just to pass the time. This was more than just to feel him — it was to tell him something. He hears every word you don’t say, but rather press like a stamp to his mouth.

He’s breathless when you pull away. You meet his flushed face with a mischievous grin.

“What was that for?” he wonders breathlessly, but doesn’t waver with his hold on you. He quickly notices that yours doesn’t either.

You shrug in response. “‘Cause you’re pretty.”

“Yeah, well…” he tries to play off like he’s not blushing like crazy. “You’re pretty too.”

Your beam ebbs into a teasing, tightlipped smirk. “Stop flirting with me, Steve Harrington.”

You shove him away with a rougher hand than you realize before you walk away from him. Steve rubs at the ache in his chest with the palm of his hand.

Your playful teasing and your lingering kiss is the only thing Steve has to remember you by when you turn on your chunky heeled boot and head off down the driveway again. He’s frozen, mesmerized by the sight of you and reeling at how you manage to drive him crazy without trying.

Your eyes find him again just before you duck into your car, and you see him still looking at you — mouth agape and eyes wide like you’re some kind of rare find. You figure you must be, in some way. Girls like you aren’t supposed to like guys like him. Vice Versa. Tale as old as time.

The boy stays locked in his stupor until the sprinkles whir on. The spurts of freezing cold water spray all over him and his pretty hair and expensive sweatshirt and his vintage jeans. “Shit!” you hear him swear as he rushes for cover on his front porch.

He’s quickly soaked and freezing cold, but he smiles anyway when he hears the sound of your giggling behind him. It’s as animated as your personality and spills from your mouth like so many rays of sunshine, just a little too loud for the quiet midnight suburbs.

It’s perfect, he realizes. You’re perfect.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #st oneshots #stevie oneshot #punchy x steve

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edenalieth · 11 months

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Pairing: Bangchan x afab!reader

Genre: bff to more, fluff, smut (mdni!)

Warnings: chan is a loud whiny boy, lowkey a perv too, dry humping, fingering (f), unprotected sex (don’t do this please), semi orgasm denial (f)

Honestly, Chan secretly loved when your friends were saying you would look good together and he couldn’t agree more. Through the years, his feelings for you had evolved into something deeper. However, afraid to ruin your friendship, he just kept them for himself and was fucking some strangers met on dating app from time to time. Despite his efforts, you were haunting his mind and he just ended up ghosting his dates. Yet, the devil seemed to have other plans for him today, making it difficult for Chan to stick to his principles…

Words: 3K

A.N: hi it's cami! i think it's the first time im posting a fic so close of an other one haha, english is not my first language so I apologize for the mistakes.. hope you enjoy ♡ — 231105

« Come on, stop moving or I’m gonna mess it up », you sighed, highly concentrated on your best friend’s hand. « As if it wasn’t already » he scoffed. As expected, you glared at him which made him laugh a lot. In fact, the nail art you were doing on him was pretty good. A mix of black patterns, some nails fully painted and you even tried some chrome on an other one. He loved to spend his evening at your house. It was kind of a ritual. At least once a week, you met together to do an activity and relax from your busy adulthood. Tonight was nail salon, as you called it. Then you would probably watch something and he would leave around 1am. The usual.

You were sitting cross-legged in front of him, wearing one of his old black tee you had stolen from his dressing and some loose sports shorts. If one of your friends were seeing you like that, they would not miss the chance to tease you about it. They always thought that you and Chan were crushing on each other. It was true that you were probably acting a bit odd compared to regular best friends. Always spending your free time together, calling each other daily, being a bit more touchy and cuddly. And saying you didn’t find him hot would have been a huge lie. Honestly, Chan secretly loved when your friends were saying you would look good together and he couldn’t agree more. Through the years, his feelings for you had evolved into something deeper. However, afraid to ruin your friendship, he just kept them for himself and was fucking some strangers met on dating app from time to time. Despite his efforts, you were haunting his mind and he just ended up ghosting his dates. Yet, the devil seemed to have other plans for him today, making it difficult for Chan to stick to his principles…

A bit bored while waiting for you to finish, he was freely looking at you, knowing you wouldn’t catch him. Still concentrated, your lips were forming a pout, he thought it was really cute and held back a smile. What wasn’t cute was the way his shirt, too big for you, was dropping on your shoulder and collarbone. This felt way too domestic. He was about to look away when he noticed it. The way you were sitting was actually giving him a full view on it. You weren’t wearing any underwear… His hand twitched and you started to grumble « Chan Bahng. Please stop moving. It’s the last one. » He could feel his cheeks and ears turning crimson as you looked at him right in the eyes. Did you realize something ? You seemed slightly confused but went back to your work. Why did he had to see it ? He needed to think about something else, anything. « Tadam! It’s done! » you proudly announced, a smirk adorning your face. « You like what you see ? » you were expectant. You thought it was really great but your best friend’s face seemed uneasy. Chan was caught off guard by the double meaning of your sentence. « Y-yea, it’s really pretty. » he stuttered. And it was but something else was really pretty and he started to wonder how it would feel on his tongue… You frowned « Hmm, you don’t seem to believe it. » you stated, arms crossed on your chest. Damn it. His pants were feeling tighter and tighter. He cursed himself. Why was he acting like a teenager suddenly ? « Y/N. I love it. And I would also love some tea. » he said in an attempt to distract you and for him to calm down. You rolled your eyes. « Geez. You men always want everything. » despite your complain, you stood up and went toward your kitchen buffet. The black haired boy almost sighed in relief. He started to scan his surroundings furiously, trying to find something to hide his growing boner. A pillow was resting on your sofa, this would do the job. « Which flavor do you want ? Mint ? Raspberry ? Earl Grey ? » you called him out, bringing his full attention back to you. You were tiptoeing to grab the tea boxes, letting the curves of your butt exposed. This was no good. No good at all. He was glad the pillow was covering him but how much would it last ? He couldn’t stay like this forever. He had to jerk himself off or he would paint his underwear real soon. « Earl Grey, please ». You put two cups of water into the microwave and went back next to your friend. He thought you would stay in the kitchen while he would quickly disappear into your bathroom but you didn’t. He closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking about your body, about how much he wanted to fuck you right now.

Getting yourself comfortable, you grabbed the remote to look through Netflix’s catalog in search of the movie you could watch and put your legs over Chan’s lap. When you did so, you felt your friend lightly jump. You looked at him. His eyebrows were frowned and he seemed in a sort of distress. « Channie, you’re okay ? » you were worried about him. His face was pretty red and he couldn’t stop fidgeting. « Yea, why would I not be ? » replied the man with a forced smile. You didn’t fall for his masquerade. « Stop this. You’re my best friend and I know when you’re not feeling great. » you came closer, your face few inches away from his as you put your hand on his forehead. He didn’t seem to have a fever but his skin was a bit moist. He gulped at the proximity. He needed to leave this room, right now. « My stomach hurts a little, that’s all. Maybe, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. » You nodded and grabbed the pillow covering him. « Sure. I’m sorry I put my legs on you. It must have hurt. » you said but his hand had grabbed the cushion as well. You tugged on it harder but your friend was resisting. He seemed all serious. « Don’t. » he pleaded. You came closer to use your full force on the pillow, distracting Chan long enough for you to remove it. « Why are you being so stub— » you didn’t finish your sentence, your eyes travelling from your best friend’s crotch to his face.

He just wanted to disappear right now and your reaction didn’t help. « Are… are you actually hard ? » you uttered. Fuck. You didn’t mean to say those words out loud but you were so surprised. Surprised, yes, but in a good way. The black haired boy, decided it was time for him to leave, you would talk about it later and brush it off. Just like that, it would turn into one of your inside joke and you would probably tease him about it for a long time. Standing up, he took his sweater but you grabbed his wrist. « How ? » you asked. « Y/N please… This is already really embarrassing… » Chan whined. He glanced at you but you weren’t disgusted or mocking him as he would expect, you seemed rather needy. The butterflies in his stomach were going crazy. Was he getting high hopes for nothing ? As if you heard his thoughts, you asked him to sit down again. He visibly hesitated but complied to your demand. With a sudden adrenaline rush, you straddled his lap and put your hands on his shoulders. Your core was so close from his bulge that the fabric of your shorts was brushing on it. Chan was frozen, not knowing if he was dreaming or no.

« You don’t need to be embarrassed around me. I can help you. » you said faintly. The man was dumbfounded and he felt like his heart was about to burst. He wanted to protect your friendship badly but seeing you being so genuine on top of him made him loose his mind. « Please. » he breathed out, his hands carefully traveling to meet your waist. You set your eyes on him, looking at his features. His brows, his soft brown eyes, his beautiful kissable lips… You cupped his face and softly closed the gap between you. As soon as your lips touched his, you could feel his hands grasping your waist tighter, making you fully sit on his crotch, his moan being muffled by your kiss. « Fuck… » he groaned, « I’m sorry, I didn’t… » he stopped to catch his breath as you slowly started to grind down on him. « Hmm ? » you hummed. How was he supposed to function if you were pushing him into his limits. « Y/N, you’re already driving me crazy. Don’t make things worse. » he inhaled. You gave him another light thrust, the heat in the pit of your stomach dangerously increasing. « Is this not helping ? » you asked with a mischievous smile blooming on your face. You were playing with him and he kinda loved the sight of it. « I don’t want to cum in my pants but into you. » he bluntly replied. A small gasp escaped your lips at his words, his hips lifting up towards you.

« What are you waiting for then ? » you whispered to his ear. « Shut up » he chuckled. Placing himself more comfortably, he brought your body closer to him, your bodies meeting each other in a sensual rhythm, your hands on his toned chest.

Chan was surely gorgeous but little did you expect to get dripping wet just by rubbing yourself on him, still being fully clothed. A sigh escaped his lips once again, his hands sliding to your hips to make you grind harder on him, making it almost painful. « You just looked so good earlier. » he pressed his lips on your neck, « Wearing my shirt as if you were already mine ». You tugged on his curls, making his head fall back.

« And you got hard just with that ? » you raised a brow, your free hand reaching for his zipper. « You’re not wearing underwear, I saw it when… » another groan as you were feeling his length. It trembled softly. « When you were doing my nails. »

You felt your cheeks getting red. « That’s unfair ! You already saw everything ! » you pouted between wet kisses. He laughed at your behavior while your hands were busy unbuckling his belt. « You can see everything too ». Resting on the back of the couch, he let you unzip his pants. His dick was thick and trapped behind his black boxer. You seized the hem of it, finally relieving the painful member glittering with precum. Chan sighed loudly. From the way his lips were a bright pink or the veins of his hands and lower abdomen were popping, you could say that the view was so breathtaking it had you squeezing your thighs together. Your friend didn’t miss that and started to softly pump himself. « Sinful » you thought, trapping your lower lip between your teeth, hands resting on his lap. You could feel the electricity running through your veins at the way he was staring down at you while jerking himself off. You wanted to feel him deep inside.

With a breath, you removed your shirt and started to lower your shorts but he stopped you. « No. They stay on while we fuck. » he almost growled those words, making your clit throb. « You can be so bossy sometimes » you shook your head with a smile. He hummed, kissing you with passion, biting your lip, sucking on your tongue. « I always knew you were a good kisser » you muttered. « Of course, I am. Never doubt of it again. » he replied with a smug voice. He started to lower his kisses, going down your neck, your collarbones, until his lips were attached to your nipple.

You ran your hands through his locks, gripping it and he loved the small pain coming from it. You focused your gaze on his face as you started to hump on him again, searching for something to satisfy yourself, watching his reaction. And he didn’t disappoint, more muffled sounds coming from his throat, making your breast vibrates. After a bit, he put an halt to your movements. « It burns a little. » he sheepishly said.

« Oh, I’m sorry! » he stopped you from leaving his lap, « It’s okay Y/N, we just need to put this to the side, hmm ? ». His look was eager, his hand waiting for your approval to move your shorts. You quickly nodded. With a grin, he put them aside, leaving enough place for him to touch your sensitive spot easily. « Gosh! You’re so wet that you even stained your shorts » he whispered, amazed. « Don’t say it out loud and do something for it! » you grumbled. What a pleasure it was when you felt his slim fingers sliding down your folds. He never thought this would happen, yet, here you were moaning on his hand. His dick twitched dangerously, some cum escaping at the sight of it. Your hips were unconsciously following his touch, steady and variating the pressure on his palm. When a first digit entered your pussy, you moaned into his shoulder, thighs lightly shaking. « Chan, fuck… ». It felt so good, just by the way he added one more finger, how he made them curl inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit, touching all the good parts of your core.

« Ch-Chan, can I touch you ? » you panted. You wanted to share your pleasure. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to let you do that, he was already too close. However, he wanted to see how your soft hand would wrap around his shaft. Staring into your eyes, he nodded. He removed his digits for you to concentrate on him, which became rather difficult when he put his fingers into his mouth, tasting you. He licked every single drop of it as if you were made of honey. « You’re so hot… » you sighed. « And you taste so good. »

You wrapped your hand at the base of his cock, giving it few strokes. A loud whimper escaped his throat. You kept going, your thumb rubbing the top of it, precum making it slippery. Yea, it wasn’t a good idea to let you masturbate him. « Y/N I’m gonna- » he chocked. He tried hard to hold back his climax, in vain. After few minutes, his seed was all over your hand. « Wow, you truly were on the edge » you teased him. He pouted. « Can you blame me ? I've been horny for more than an hour... »

He hooked your shorts further to the side. « But don’t think I can’t handle a second round, baby ». His voice was low and you got flustered by the pet name. He had never called you like that. « Make it wet for me, would you ? » he asked with an unsteady breath, bringing your hips down. Finally, your pussy was getting some attention, rubbing yourself on his length was making you lightheaded. You could feel Chan getting hard again under you, not wasting any time. Being skin to skin was even more appealing. You whined at the sensation, begging him to stop.

« What did you say ? » he mused, lifting your chin with one of his hand so you could look at him. « Stop, please » you cried. He chuckled, « And I was the one being on edge ? ». You frowned but your hips kept moving uncontrollably. You could feel the heat between your legs increasing and, when your mouth started to form an O, your friend rolled away from you. Leaving you clenching around nothing, aching.

« W-what ? »

« You have to come around me, Y/N. » he tenderly hugged you, grabbing your thighs to lay you down on the couch. Now towering you, he removed his shirt, letting you admire his toned torso and perfect abs before he got rid of the last pieces of fabric covering his body. You touched his lower abdomen, sliding down his thighs, mesmerized. He couldn't help but smile and kiss your forehead, putting both his forearms around your head, caging you. « Ready ? » he asked, a tint of impatience in his voice. « Yes ».

Positioning himself at your entrance, Chan started to push into you. You needed to get accustomed to the stretch yet, it felt already delectable. And the more he thrusted into you, the more you could feel your folds spreading for him. The growl he let out was the loudest you had heard until then. He was so vocal and it aroused you like crazy. You always had a sweet spot for men who were not afraid to let their partner know how much they felt good. « Fuck Y/N… you… » Chan blabbered. « Hmm ? » you hummed, unable to make an intelligible sentence. « It’s like you were made for my cock. » he panted. He was completely inside of you now, slamming his hips back and forth against your pelvis. His moans were filling the room and you inevitably joined him into his chorus. You were completely wrecking him, making you both see stars as a second wave of pleasure was growing. « Y/N, you’re… doing so well… taking me… all— ». Your name fell like a mantra out of his lips as he was marking his love into your skin. The praise electrified all your senses, making you unintentionally clench around him. « For fuck sake » he hissed. « Channie… I can’t—».

« Just a little more, baby… I promise. » he kissed you, your tongues twirling, your nails scratching the tender skin of his back. Wanting more, you lifted your hips up to meet his, the new angle giving him a full access to repeatedly hit your G spot. « Oh my god » you panted. Chan couldn’t even speak anymore. Your walls were getting tighter and tighter on him, making it difficult to move. He placed sloppy kisses, on your forehead, your nose, your neck, never stopping to compliment you. Tensed and overwhelmed, his pace was getting slower, creating something new after all that frenzy. That’s when you felt it, rushing through your veins. Unable to resist it, you let your orgasm take over you, shaking between Chan’s arms as he was reaching his own climax, painting your walls. He fell onto you, his head resting on your chest as you were softly caressing his curls. « Wow. » he laughed and you joined him. « That was intense » you added. He hummed, breathing the scent of your skin mixed to his own. « Was it helpful ? »

He raised himself high enough to face you. « You know you’re a brat, right ? ». You smirked, coming closer to his face, his eyes shining in anticipation. « Maybe ». Rolling his eyes, he fell back down on you to kiss you more.

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bellswlw · 2 years

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˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ it’s cold here without you ⇨ e. williams

ellie williams x afab!reader

wc: 6k

part 1.5 | part two | masterlist

summary: after Ellie manages to finally get you to pose for her after arriving in Jackson months ago, you two attend the winter dance and it’s then that you realize you might like ellie as more than just a friend…

cw: bff!ellie, mutual pining, jealousy, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, inexperienced reader, artist!ellie, some fluff, edging (r!receiving kinda), love confessions, making out in semi public space (???) basically grumpy x sunshine, gardener!reader —lmk if there are more tags to add pls—

a/n: this was going to be angsty and sad but then this just happened so enjoy! (please be nice this is my first public wlw post and first fic i’ve been proud of in a minute so pls, pls just don’t be mean. i’ve been so nervous to post this all week help) proofread but there’s probably still some mistakes tbh

From the moment you walked into Jacksons gates, Ellie knew something. Something so small rang in her ears. So much so it almost hurt, it made her want to wince at the sight of you like you were a walking orb of fire and you had just exploded right in front of her.

She knew when you met Shimmer for the first time, she knew in the dining hall, and at the library and the school and the church. Especially at the church. She knew she would never be able to let you go. But she knew she would have to, eventually.

You spun slowly around in Ellie’s desk chair, your head resting back as the smoke filled your lungs more and more with each rotation.

“Please. I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone else there.” you say up into the ceiling while you wait for a response. You hear the crackle of weed burning straight through Ellie’s chest before anything else.

Her voice drops a little low when she finally speaks, the smoke falling from her lips like fog rolling over a still lake. “I’m sure Dina will be there. And Jesse. And literally everyone else.” Ellie was stretched out on the futon from across the room, caring less about the stupid winter dance.

You look at her then, a little dizzy and absolutely appalled that she wouldn’t want to go and watch people get drunk and dance to No Scrubs while high out of your minds.

She was never the type for large happy gatherings, but you figured she would go if she got to sit and watch for entertainment.

“Not everyone.” you whispered to yourself with a quick raise of your eyebrow before glancing at your hands quick enough to avoid Ellie's eyes that were suddenly boring into you.

Ellie sat up; the joint now glued to her lips.

“It’s a fuckin’ winter dance. In the Church. C’mon, how fun could it really be?”

You look up. Seeing how her eyes never left your face. Like you were meeting her there, through a dirty window with the reflection of her hazily standing beside you. A window that hasn't been buffed out yet, just a little foggy. Just a little.

“Well, it would be more fun if you went with me. Please. Just for an hour? Then we can come back here and do whatever you wanna do. Even if it's just sitting around. And you can draw me… if you want to.” you added the last part in a hushed tone, like the words were timid to come out.

But you had been secretly hoping she would since you got here.

You loved watching her draw, her fingers tracing over the paper so gently, like it was skin. Almost like it was yours. You wished it was… sometimes.

She looked away from you, drawing in another drag before she rested her elbows on her knees, legs spread wide.

Ellie had been wanting to draw you since the day you got here. The shape of your hips and the slope of your neck had haunted her pages for months. Erasing and sketching them again and again from memory. She wouldn’t let the opportunity pass her up and spit her out.

She sighed, trying to gauge if you had really meant it. Your tell wasn’t working since you were already beat red from just offering yourself up.

“Fine. Let’s just do it now, while we have time to spare.” was what she said instead, swallowing back her excitement and clearing her throat.

Ellie reaches over to you, handing you the joint and gently flexes her hand in your direction to tell you to finish it.

There wasn’t much left, maybe a little more than a roach. You took it from her a little eagerly, wanting the smoke to smooth your lungs and the quickend beat in your chest caused by Ellie’s hand grazing yours.

It didn’t take very long or much for you to feel it. You were such a lightweight.

Ellie of course found it hilarious when she realized. Catching on and laughing at you from across the room when you started giggling at the word “Infectious.”

Maria had said your laugh was “infectious” in the stables and considering the circumstances, it was true. Only, this time Ellie wasn’t immune to it. She had followed suit and ducked her head over her shoulder away from you to collect herself while shimmer groaned in relief.

“It’s just so—“ you cut yourself off, burying your face in your knees while sitting on the floor against the side of Ellie’s bed frame.

The distance was necessary since you had only met a few days prior.

Ellie looked up at you, with her brows pulled together in confusion before she put two and two together.

“Wait. Are you high?” she asked with a chuckle.

The room was clouded with a thin layer of smoke, barely enough to be able to see to the naked eye.

Your eyes had shot open wide, terrified.

“You are! Holy shit, this is good.” her voice carved the words into you then, the goosebumps running through your legs until they reached your core and exploded there with millions of needles with nowhere to go. You were soaked.

Ellie hadn’t laughed that hard in a minute, with her hand flat on her stomach to try and help the coiling feeling deep in her stomach.

“That’s fucking hilarious.” she murmured, her head falling back against the futon before taking a hit so big her cheeks had funneled in.

“Shut up.”

You were bright red with embarrassment and Ellie couldn’t look you in the eye without the image burning into her mind for the next week.

You think back on it now and what took place only a few hours before, letting a dry chuckle fall from your lips and echo into the quiet of the room.

Ellie’s still for a moment, but then joins in and laughs hard enough for her body to jolt with each exhale.

“What?” her tell floats to the surface immediately as she wipes the bow above her lip nervously.

“Do… do you remember that one time–” You stifle back a small laugh with your hand, slightly doubled over in the chair and your other flat against the coffee table for support.

“What?” she asks again, an unsteady smile creeping its way in.

“When… when we were– I can’t!” you confess, letting out a burst of laughter and slowly sliding down onto the floor.

“What?!” Ellie exclaims, a laugh finally falling from her lips while her hands tense out in front of her.

“When we were in the stab… stables. And I met Shimmer? And then I was petting her ears and all of this sudden, she rips absolute ass! Do you remember that?!” you let out a laugh, deeper from within your stomach causing you to hold onto it with both hands as the giggles ate you alive.

Ellie lets the smile on her face break, and then after hearing you kick your feet against the floor she erupts too, leaning over a bit to join in.

“You got so scared!” she exclaims, which only sends you further into a fit of laughter, breathing heavily for a few seconds and then starting right back up again.

“It was… It was so loud! An– and long?!?”

Ellie eventually joins you on the floor, laughing hard enough to where a vein is popping from her neck, just noticeable enough to where if you reached your hand out to touch it, you could even feel her pulse.

She looks over at you, seeing your eyes pinched shut and your smile wider than she’s ever seen it before. It was incredible.

As your laughter subsides, your eyes find their way to Ellie’s. Watching you, of course.

“Oh,” you say with the smallest giggle attached, then letting it fall away to join the burning embers that lifted the hair off your skin.

She smiled at you, fully now with no hesitation. “Can I draw you?” she asked, not looking away once. Her voice became a little rusted, and it chipped on its way out of her throat like a stone on pavement.

You fought the urge to crack. “Sure.” you said instead, and looked away from her quickly just to pull your eyes back to her slightly parted lips.

Ellie’s smile faltered a moment, resting on her side next to you. She didn't want to get up. She wanted to keep this image of you alive inside her head for the rest of her life. She wanted to keep you forever. Obviously she knew she couldn’t. She’d fuck it up sooner or later.

“What?” you ask, gaping at her with so much love plastered on your cheeks it almost looked fake. Too saturated. Too real. Ellie had the urge to swipe the pad of her thumb across it just to see if it would smudge. She knew it wouldn’t. She just wanted an excuse.

Instead, Ellie glanced away –finally– and lifted a hand to the right side of your face, tucking a single strand of hair behind your ear gently. You froze.

“Just um, put this right here.” she whispered.

Her eyes were glued on yours. The beautiful emerald that made your heart freeze in time just jumped into a millions beats per minute with the touch of her hand alone.

Ellie’s hand was still hovering over your jaw, like she was afraid you would fade away if she let you go.

But she had to. She knew that, some part of her had to know that.

Her hand fell back at her side, and Ellie cleared her throat one more time.

“Um, stay just stay how you are. I’ll draw you just like this, yeah?” you were too stunned to speak, so you nodded once and swallowed back the butterflies that had just burst in your stomach.

“Okay.” you could hear the smile in her voice as she got up on her feet in one quick motion, leaving you to stare mindlessly at the door.

You felt like you were posing naked for her somehow, like she had stripped you clean and she would be basing her art off of you. You hated how self conscious you suddenly felt, but selfishly you loved how excited she got.

And just like that, you're burning up again, your cheeks catch the flint and light is bursting from beneath your skin.

You smother it. You act calm, and cool, and not like you are the horniest you've ever been around someone you could never have.

You don’t move a muscle when Ellie sets down pads of paper, jars of brushes, ink, parchment paper, water color, and charcoal all within a minute or two and is sitting down next to you again.

She put her hands to her mouth, unable to keep her excitement hidden. “Okay. Um. Just, uh, yeah just stay exactly how you are. Try not to move. Or laugh.” you can’t help but let the smirk sink into your face before playfully scoffing under your breath.

You followed her instructions word for word. You didn’t move. No matter how badly you had to pee. You wouldn’t move until she was done.

And so far, it felt like you had been posing for what felt like 2 hours based on how many pieces of paper Ellie had already used, and the fact that the water was completely dark with no more room for ink. Or that her fingers were coated in charcoal and it had smudged on her face as she tried relentlessly to keep the stray hair behind her ear.

But you watched her. You watched her hands dance across the paper like skin. Your skin. –on paper anyway– You noticed her tongue dipping in and out of her mouth as she concentrated on capturing the curve of your arm and the texture of your jeans that made you want to crawl out of them.

Ellie couldn't get the images of you on paper fast enough. There were so many. She had to get it absolutely perfect: the slope of your nose, your crooked hairline caused from laying on your side, the delicacy of your fingers as they rested on the curve of your hip. She had to get all of them out right now or else she would have to keep memorizing and sketching and staring.

Secretly, she wanted to keep a few for herself too. To remind herself that you were real, and that she had you at one point. Ellie only had so much ink and charcoal left, but she didn’t care, she would use it all. She would draw you a million times if it meant you would look at her like this just one more time. She would do anything… anything for you. If she just had the chance, she’d take it. Instead of running away to catch the lungs that were sprinting away from her.

But she would try, with all the power and love she's ever had. She would give it all to you, and you wouldn’t even have to ask. Ellie would give it up willingly, she would beg you to take it from her and say “I don't know what to do with it.”

“Hm?” you ask from your position on the floor. “Do with what?” and her eyes flickered towards you.

She forgot you were really there. That you weren’t another dream. That you could see her.

Ellie cleared her throat and her voice broke when she spoke again.

“Um, the drawing. It’s done. I don’t know what to do with it.” she looked at you one last time before you shot up from the floor and sat next to her.

“Can I see it?!” you said, cheery like a child who had just had their picture taken in a cardboard cutout stand.

“Yeah.”

Ellie turned the pad over to you, and just when she thought she hated it you covered your mouth with both hands and let in a sharp inhale.

You were quiet for a moment, and Ellie was still a little worried you saw right through her until you turned to look at her with tears pooling in your eyes.

“Oh, Ellie. Holy shit. This is the best one yet.”

She let herself feel a little proud then, a smile fighting its way onto her face once again. She never knew why she was always fighting it, it would happen nearly every single time.

“That’s just because I made you look so good.” and she nudged you a little.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m serious. It’s beautiful Els.” and you turned away to look back at the drawing before blinking away the tears in your eyes.

There’s a moment there, where the two of you are staring at… you. “No one’s ever drawn me before. It's weird looking at myself like this.” and you then felt Ellie’s eyes burn the side of your face, begging for you to look at her.

You tilt your head slightly, not stripping your eyes away from the page until the very last second.

Ellie was blushing. She was fucking blushing.

She looked away the second your eyes had found hers.

“Here, you can have it.” and she folded the page into your hand and held it there for a beat.

A beat too long.

The glass was clearing up, the fog dissipating into thin air at lightning speed.

You cleared your throat in hopes to silently slice the tension that was building around the two of you.

“Thanks.” you let your eyes fall to your lap. “We should uh, probably get ready.”

Ellie looks away again, patting her thighs as she exhales swiftly. “Yeah. Yeah, let's do it.”

“Come on, I don’t wanna be the last one there! It’s already started.”

You leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, actually watching Ellie fix her hair. It was pulled back into a low bun, and the layered pieces kept falling forward, not wanting to swoop back with the rest of it.

“I just, I can’t get this fucking— oh, god dammit!” she exclaimed, letting her hands fly out at her sides and grip the edge of the bathroom counter to take a breath.

“Here, let me help you.”

You took a step off the frame, pulling a pin from your hair and gently stepping up to Ellie to slide the pin into place. You must have accidentally got her scalp because she squeezed one eye shut and let a small wince escape her lips.

“Sorry.” you said, and tapped the pin to make sure it was snug.

You felt Ellie’s eyes on you from the reflection of the mirror. Of course. They were burning into you like the reflection of a magnifying glass.

Ellie’s hands grip harder on the countertop, watching your delicate fingers play with the pin. Collecting strands of her hair and then gently sweeping them behind it as gently as she can so as not to poke you again.

“Thanks.” she says instead, and lets go of the counter with a gentle push. Her hands have a red mark from her grip that when she flexes her hands, she feels her skin pull with resistance.

“Yeah.” you look away, even though you feel the warmth radiating off of her. Sending something through you.

“Okay. Let's go before we’re stuck outside. I heard they are checking for ID." There's a joke somewhere in her voice, but it gets buried by the sudden feeling of your hand twisted in yours.

“Ellie, your hand is freezing.” you say, entirely missing the joke she was trying to make and placing your other hand around hers.

She looked down to see her hand barely covered by both of yours, and she lets the feeling of your skin melt into hers like molten lava.

She was always lighting you on fire. Now, you were warming her up, meeting her halfway.

The dance was better than Ellie had expected. The room was full of people in cowboy boots and actually square dancing. Not just in the movies like she thought.

And you were smiling from ear to ear, happy to see so many people laughing and having fun while they still could. So of course Ellie was happy to be there. She fucking lived to see you smile like you were right now.

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you want anything?” Ellie said against your neck, yelling over the music.

“No! I’m gonna dance.” and she nodded, eager to let go of your hand. She didn’t want to lose you in the crowd. She didn’t want to lose you, period. But of course, she would eventually.

Your hand fell from hers as you made your way into the line dance, knocking your feet back and forth on its heel and toe while clapping your hands along to the music that was actually ‘not that bad’.

Ellie’s standing at the bar, a drink in her hand with no intention of actually drinking it. She wasn’t that big a drinker, but she wanted to keep herself busy while trying so hard not to stare at you from across the room.

It wasn't working, obviously.

She was actually glad she came, because she had never seen you this… bright. You were floating across the dancefloor like some kind of angel. She couldn’t place you. Not here anyway. You looked so out of place, with your smile wide and cheeks completely beet red from dancing, it's like you were more saturated than everyone else, like you were literally glowing.

She snaps out of it when she sees you heading over to her, a smile plastered on your face and sweat beading just above your top lip.

“Oh jeez, they weren’t kidding.” you say to her, out of breath and laughing a little.

“Who?” she asks.

“Tommy and Maria. When we were all putting the flyers up they said it would definitely be an owl here.” and you couldn’t keep it together, laughing into your hand and leaning forward into Ellie’s shoulder.

“That… was terrible.” she smirks.

She loved it.

You pull back, flexing your hands out wide at your sides before letting out a short exhale. “No, but seriously. You guys might not party very often, but when you do it gets crazy. I was drowning out there!”

“You seemed to be doing fine to me.” Ellie offered up. She was flushed.

“Oh yeah? You try going out there. It’s not as easy as it looks.” and you tilted your head playfully, emphasizing your point.

She looked down at her glass then, breaking away quick enough to avoid your eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Now, where is the bathroom?”

And Ellie took the smallest sip from her glass just before pointing to her right and bending her wrist the same direction. “Through the doors and on the right.”

You smiled at her, touching her arm with clammy hands. “Hey, dance with me when I come back?” your grasp on her was slipping away, waiting for her answer before letting go completely.

“Yeah. Sure.”

You beamed, completely unable to hide it this time. You thought you maybe didn’t have to, that you would maybe… finally… be able to clean this goddamn window for good.

You call out to her before disappearing, “Oh hey, you were right! Dina’s here!”

The second Ellie registers what you said, suddenly Dina has appeared into thin air and is dancing with someone a few feet away.

And again, a few moments later, Jesse appears from your left, a matching glass in his hand.

“She’s uh… putting on quite the show.” he says, and it's then that she looks up at her, watching as she gets dipped and the music fades out.

“I give you guys two weeks until you're back together.” and she chuckles.

“Not gonna happen.”

She looks away from him briefly, glancing into her drink that’s gone warm.

“She uh, say something to you?” Jesse asks before looking at her again.

“Make it one week.”

While Ellie’s attention is turned towards Jesse, just then Dina comes over and draws it back toward her.

“Ellie, hey!”

Jesse adjusts his posture, standing taller. It’s so obvious he wants her back.

Dina takes the drink from your hand, shooting it back and placing it on the bar behind you with a thud.

“Dina.” he says, lifting his glass, almost like he was offering it up to her.

“Jesse.” is all she says instead, eyeing him slowly.

“C’mon,” she says, and grabs Ellie’s hand.

“Wait, I was gonna–” but it's no use, because Jesse is talking over you from the bar.

“Hey! Don’t forget we're headin’ out early, so get some rest!” and before Ellie can even look back at him all the way, Dina is already talking again.

“Yes sir.”

Ellie is looking down at her feet, trying not to trip over them as Dina continues to pull her farther into the crowd of people.

“You're such a dick.” she murmured.

Dina’s hands fell easily on her shoulders moments after she placed Ellie’s on her waist.

Just then, you came out from the bathroom trying to pick through the crowd to find her, seeing the empty glass and missing spot from the bar.

You make your way over to Jesse, who you were kind of surprised to see there since he wasn’t much of a partier.

You go to ask where Ellie went, if she had somehow missed her walking into the bathroom… but the words die in your throat when you see her smack dead in the middle of the floor, with Dina rubbing her cheek against Ellie’s and a sly smile on her face.

“I hate these things.” Jesse said.

You glance over at him, noticing he was watching Ellie and Dina too.

“Tell me about it.” you say, looking back at Dina.

She has her arm wrapped around Ellie’s neck, a single hand pulling the same strand of hair that has been falling out of place all day.

The same one you pinned. The same girl who had drawn you just 2 hours ago.

The same girl… that was kissing Dina.

She… she kissed her.

Your windows shattered, shards falling to the floor like needles and with the heartbeat that had been run over and sliced clean in half.

You feel yourself wince at the sight, and before you think twice, you're up from the bar and leave through the back.

You fucking blew it.

Ellie’s hands were stuffed deep inside her pockets, walking around Jackson like a lost puppy.

She hadn’t seen you since the dance. Which to you both felt like a lot longer.

She looked for you afterward, apologizing to Dina before pulling away from her to ask if anyone had seen where you went, if anyone saw you leave with Jesse and wondering what the fuck just happened.

When you got home, the second you closed the door behind you you couldn't help but let the hot tears stream down your frosted cheeks.

You had tried so hard, so hard to let Ellie see how much of her you liked, and completely obvious you made it seem.

You posed for her. Not naked, but the act still made you think it was worth something. So much so that when you pulled her drawing from your backpocket, slightly smudged from dancing all night and when you had pulled it out on your way home contemplating throwing it away.

You shoved it under your pillow instead, climbing in bed shortly after and rocking yourself to sleep and trying to get the image of Ellie’s lips out of your mind.

Ellie showed up the next morning, knocking on your locked bedroom door.

It had scared her, how raw her voice sounded, and how at the same time it had never sounded softer than when she said “Hey, you in there?”

And when you didn’t reply, you could hear her let out a small sigh before stepping away from the door.

You pulled your covers tight over your head and shut your eyes tight with regret.

Eventually, you realized you had to get up to go to work. It was cold out, but luckily you had gotten to work in the greenhouse since it was a low leveled job and you enjoyed it. Plus the warmth helped too.

The greenhouse door was cracked open by a hair, a dead giveaway you were inside. You still never figured out how to latch it all the way closed, and it seemed to get heavier each time you went to move it.

Ellie pulled her lip to the side, nibbling nervously on the inside of her cheek. She felt so fucking stupid, letting Dina kiss her like that. Letting her dance with her. She was such a fuck up, as per usual.

She was walking around aimlessly, bored, and confused.

She didn't know what to do without you. It was so routine with the two of you.

You would meet Ellie at the stables after her patrol shift was over (which was usually in the mornings) and then you would hang out together at hers. And she would usually find you in the dining hall or the library if you were scheduled there.

But since the dance, she hadn’t known where you were, and it's like she had never been to this version of Jackson without you in it.

She had, years ago, but she could never remember what it was really like. Almost as if it didn’t really exist without you.

And just as she was about to head home, with the sun barely peeking out from behind the clouds, she spotted the multiple greenhouses. With one in particular that had a light striking a clear view of you inside.

Ellie pulled her hands from her pockets, a close lipped smile breaking on her face instantly.

She nudged the door with her body and her head barely visible to you from the other side.

But you felt her there. You didn’t know how, but you could tell she was standing outside the door before you saw her.

“Holy shit it's warm in here. Now I see why you always pick this over patrol.” and she watched as you plucked leaves from the tarragon plant.

“What are you doing?” you asked, not looking at her.

Your hands started to shake mildly, and you tried not to give into her eyes that burned a hole in your heart.

“Looking for you. I Thought I’d find you here.” she said, closing the door all the way (of course she'd be able to) and fumbled with her hands, a little nervous.

“I’m almost done here. I just need to take these clippings and a few other things.” your hands carry a tremble now, and Ellie can see it.

She takes a step closer to you, and it's unavoidable not to look at her now.

“Can we talk about last night?” Ellie asks with her hand flat against the workbench and her brows are pulled together in a frown.

“There's nothing to talk about. I just… I wanted to go home. I didn’t wanna bother you and Dina. you seemed like you were having fun.” as you tied the twine around the clippings, Ellie's hand covered yours on an exploded scale.

You turn your head, looking at her and seeing right through her.

“C’mon. Don’t be like that. Dina… was just being Dina. She didn’t mean anything by it.” Ellie's thumb started to form small circles on your skin, drawing you in, inch by inch.

Ellie took a small step toward you, her other hand reaching up and cooling the burning of your neck.

She leaned in toward you, and her lips grazed yours before kissing you softly. It was wrong, it was so so wrong.

You closed your eyes and a single tear rolled down your cheek fast enough to transfer to Ellie’s.

You pull your hand back from hers, taking a complete step backward and trying to conceal the tears that wanted to run down your cheeks freely.

“Do you like me, Ellie?”

The words had shocked the look off her face, only for her to reposition her brows into a confused glare.

“What?”

“Do you like me.” and there is a quiver in your voice. Her figure becomes blurry, but before she disappears completely you tilt your head and wipe your tears on the sleeve of your shirt.

“I– Yeah. Yeah, I like you. Why would I kiss you if I didn’t like you?”

“Why would Dina?”

Her head drops down between her shoulders as she sighed. She didn’t know. She didn’t. But she knew that she would rather freeze to death than lose you, she knew that much.

She pulled her lips between her teeth “I– I don’t know. I- She- Dina kissed me, okay? And she asked me to dance. I didnt– I wanted to dance with you, I wanted to…” she couldn’t say it.

“What?”

“I wanted to kiss you, alright. I wanted to even before then. Before the dance or before the stables. From the moment you got here I knew. I just didn’t know. I do now, I swear.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to say everything, anything. Your lips were sealed with hot tears streaming down your face.

“Can you say something?” Her voice is merely a whisper like a jagged piece of ice dragging across your skin just light enough to form goosebumps.

You pinch your eyes shut and let your hands shakily wipe the salt water from your face.

“I– I… Ellie. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, this…”

She takes a small step toward you, grabbing a hold of your wrists gently enough for your back to meet the opposite wall of the greenhouse and boxing you in around the floor to ceiling plants that were on either side of you.

“Just, say something, please.” Ellie gave your wrists a little shake, freeing them from your face.

She looked worried now, and the thought of her thinking you didn’t like her sent a strike of sadness through you.

You move your hands fully away from your face and let them fall at your sides, lacing your fingers with Ellie’s slowly. She’s looking down at them, and swinging them softly from side to side.

“I… I liked you too. From the beginning I mean. In the dining hall when you sat next to me. I liked you then, I still do.” you confessed.

You felt the fire in your cheeks and you couldn’t meet Ellie’s eyes and you made way with her chest.

She leaned down an inch to place her forehead together with yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You let out a breath, a scoff even. “I tried! I was trying this entire time. And plus, you just said you realized you liked me. I wasn’t sure.”

Her words rang through you. You shook with anticipation.

“Is that why you left last night? Because you were jealous?” and Ellie’s voice rose to a mocking tone, tugging on your hands in a playful manner.

“Shut up. I was not.” and you look away, the smile bolted across your face proudly.

“You were! Say it, say it please! Tell me how jealous you were. C’mon, tell me tell me tell me!”

And it's then that you smash your lips against Ellie’s to meet her halfway with just the very tip of your toes.

Her lips were warm with lust, her hands breaking from yours to find the soft spots behind your ears with a swipe. Ellie exhaled into your mouth immediately and your head met the back wall of the greenhouse with a soft thud.

Her tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging for entrance that was obviously unnecessary by how quickly you parted your lips for her. She rubbed slow circles over your jaw, and soon enough her hand was traveling down the curve of your hip and squeezing there. Just enough to express a moan from you.

Ellie smirked against your lips, drawing back for a breath before kissing you harder now, not hesitating or double checking for dominance. You were absolutely floored.

Your shirt had ridden up just mere inches, and her hand was met with the small piece of bare flesh there, causing you to let in a sharp inhale through your nose.

Both of Ellie’s hands are playing with the button of your jeans, fighting to get them undone and pulled down just below your pulsing cunt.

Once her hand finally finds the band of your underwear, it's over. You were already completely unfolding right in front of her.

Your mouth falls open, and a moan slips from your lips, a little louder now as you arch your back to be flush with Ellie. She bends back the band of elastic, traveling down to reach the very top of your pussy she can already feel how wet you are for her.

Just then, both of your hands fly to grip her inked forearm. A silent warning.

“Your hand… ‘s cold.” is all you can make out.

Ellie pulls back to take a look at you. You're absolutely flushed. “D’you want me to stop?” It was genuine. She wanted this to be perfect for you. She wanted to get it right.

“I– I want to keep going, but I-” and Ellie uncoiled her hand from beneath your pants to rest it on your hip.

“I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.” she let her arms straighten against you, waiting for you to reply.

“I’m ready. Really. I just don’t really wanna… do it here. It’s kinda dirty. And also probably illegal. And I really do have to take that stuff in.”

Ellie smiled. “You’re cute. Why don’t we take them together, and then, if you want, we can go hang out at mine?”

You looked at her with a tight lipped grin. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

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