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#first-person fic is new to me please forgive me
chahnniesroom · 3 months
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some loves
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.
word count: 6.9k
tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic
read it on ao3 | masterlist
a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.
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Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.
He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.
“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”
“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”
“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”
“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”
“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”
“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.
“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”
Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.
There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.
“I’m in,” Chan agrees.
“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”
“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”
“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.
“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.
“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”
Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.
Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.
“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”
“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.
“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”
“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”
“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”
“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.
“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”
They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.
HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.
“Y/n,” Chan breathes.
You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”
Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.
It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.
It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.
Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.
As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.
You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.
“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.
“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.
“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”
Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.
“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”
The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.
The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.
You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.
It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.
Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.
“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”
You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.
“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”
“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”
You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.
“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.
“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.
Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.
Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.
Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.
That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.
In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.
The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.
Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.
Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.
When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.
“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”
Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.
“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.
Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”
“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”
“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”
“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”
“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”
“You didn’t hear what happened?”
“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.
“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”
“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”
“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”
“Please,” Chan pleads.
“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”
It suddenly clicks.
“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”
“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”
“But really, we were never-”
“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”
“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”
“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”
“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.
“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”
“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.
“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”
“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”
“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”
“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”
A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.
After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.
“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”
That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.
“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”
This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.
“What happened?” he prods.
“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”
“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.
“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”
“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.
“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”
Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.
“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.
“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.
“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”
“I- I don’t know.”
“What’s your gut feeling?”
“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”
“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”
“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”
Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.
“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”
“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”
“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”
As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.
At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.
“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”
Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.
Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.
[Received - 8:04pm]
Channie-oppa~
[Received - 8:04pm]
This is Y/nnie
[Received - 8:05pm]
Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/
[Received - 8:09pm]
But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?
Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.
He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.
[Sent - 8:10pm]
Hey Y/n!
[Sent - 8:11pm]
No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too
[Sent - 8:13pm]
I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ
[Received - 8:13pm]
Gangdong-gu?
[Received - 8:14pm]
Ohh JYPE
[Received - 8:14pm]
My bad, forgot that you guys moved
[Sent - 8:15pm]
Yeahhh
[Sent - 8:15pm]
Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry
[Received - 8:18pm]
Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway
[Sent - 8:18pm]
Wait, really?
[Sent - 8:18pm]
No no no, don’t take the subway
[Sent - 8:18pm]
I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min
[Received - 8:19pm]
Wowow
[Received - 8:19pm]
Private driver?
[Received - 8:20pm]
You’re a real superstar now haha
[Sent - 8:21pm]
alsfjshkafs noooooooo
[Sent - 8:21pm]
It’s just faster
[Sent - 8:21pm]
and safer
[Received - 8:22pm]
I’m not complaining
[Received - 8:22pm]
but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you
[Received - 8:23pm]
If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭
[Sent - 8:24pm]
Knew it
[Sent - 8:25pm]
You’re just using me for my fame
[Received - 8:26pm]
Ah you got me this time
[Received - 8:26pm]
*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks
[Received - 8:27pm]
Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up
[Received - 8:27pm]
Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?
Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.
Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.
[Received - 8:32pm]
?? Speechless that I caught on?
[Received - 8:36pm]
I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped
[Received - 8:40pm]
Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked
[Received - 8:42pm]
It was nice knowing you I guess
When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.
[Sent - 8:53pm]
Sorry, lost track of time
[Sent - 8:53pm]
They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything
[Received - 8:54pm]
Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts
[Received - 8:55pm]
But thanks
[Received - 8:55pm]
Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?
[Received - 8:55pm]
I’m honoured
Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.
“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”
“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”
“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”
“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”
“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.
“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”
“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”
“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”
“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”
“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”
“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”
“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”
It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.
“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”
“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”
“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”
“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.
“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.
“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.
“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.
"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."
“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."
“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”
“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”
"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”
"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."
“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that’s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”
“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.
“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”
"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.
"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.
"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"
“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.
“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.
“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.
Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.
“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."
You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.
“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”
"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"
"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."
"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."
"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."
Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.
Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.
"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.
"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"
You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.
"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."
At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.
"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."
read it on ao3 | masterlist
638 notes · View notes
chlorinecake · 5 months
Note
HELLO
Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!
It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc
leading you on | l.hs
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♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…
loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader
♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words
a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!
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Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.
Not emotionally, that is, but physically.
Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.
Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.
The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.
But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.
Who you've always loved him to be.
However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.
Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.
You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.
Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.
However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.
Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.
A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.
Off camera, things were the same.
You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.
But then... something changed.
Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.
|Messaging| 💬
Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?
You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...
Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy
You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^
You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.
"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."
"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-
"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.
"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."
You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.
"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"
"Will Heeseung be there?"
"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.
It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.
"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."
Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"
FLASHBACK
It all started with a picture.
A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.
Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK
Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.
Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩
pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻
Danielle, another fan joked.
Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔
Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.
"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.
That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."
His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.
Oh God-
"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.
pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-
Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-
Chelbear03 has left the stream
A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.
"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.
"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.
"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"
His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.
The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.
"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.
"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.
"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.
anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?
yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭
Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him
"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."
pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|
"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...
"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.
"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."
“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.
“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”
Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.
You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.
“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”
“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”
You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.
You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.
“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”
“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.
You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.
One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.
|Messaging| 💬
You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?
Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)
You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D
Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?
You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time
Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm
You: Cya ! 🐒
THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.
You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.
Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.
It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.
You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.
Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.
Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.
You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.
That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.
His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.
His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.
“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.
“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”
“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.
“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.
“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.
“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”
“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”
“What is?”
“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”
“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”
He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.
“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.
“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.
“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”
“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"
You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.
“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.
Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.
You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.
yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧
Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩
mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s
pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD
Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨
laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;
yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3
You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.
"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.
"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"
"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."
"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.
"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."
Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.
He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.
"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"
"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.
Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why
Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.
“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”
"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.
"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."
"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.
“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”
"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.
"Moving on, next question!"
anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈
Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.
It was really a bad trait of yours...
"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.
How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-
laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...
pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹
In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.
"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.
yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-
Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏
Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.
By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.
"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."
The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.
"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."
"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...
"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.
"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"
He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."
Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.
Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔
maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-
You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.
"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.
pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)
maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{
maindancertypeshit has left the stream
You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.
"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.
yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(
Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭
mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...
Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.
"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.
That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.
"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.
"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.
You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.
"Heeseung, what're you-"
He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.
There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.
"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.
You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...
You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.
laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????
mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0
Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?
yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁
The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.
A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.
"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.
"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.
What was going on with you?
"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."
"Heeseung-"
"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."
The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.
"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.
"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."
"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.
"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."
"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.
"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"
ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.
You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.
You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.
Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.
It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...
Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.
Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.
To be ruined.
"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."
He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.
"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"
"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.
"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.
"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"
You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.
Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-
"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."
He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.
"Its a few things, actually-"
"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.
"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."
"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.
"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.
Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-
"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."
"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.
"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.
"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"
Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.
You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.
"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."
You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.
He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.
That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.
You almost couldn't in a state like this.
It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.
"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.
You were having second thoughts.
"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."
Even though this was all your idea to begin with-
"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."
In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.
You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.
Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.
The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.
Almost too good, honestly…
“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.
Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.
“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"
It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.
“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.
"What're you-"
Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."
He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.
“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.
You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.
"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"
Fuck.
You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.
"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.
Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-
"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.
Well, most of the way, at least...
"____?"
"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"
"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."
Thud.
You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.
His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.
"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.
"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.
You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.
How nice he felt.
"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.
He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.
"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"
"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.
Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.
There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.
And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.
He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.
He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"
You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.
He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,
“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.
He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”
Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.
“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”
Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.
As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.
Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”
He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.
He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.
Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.
“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.
There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.
“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.
You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.
You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.
You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.
“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.
“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.
To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.
“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.
“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”
“Heeseung-”
“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”
“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.
From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.
You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.
”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.
You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”
Fin…
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♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!
♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash
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senascoop · 18 days
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DREAMSCAPE ☁︎ M.LIST !
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WELCOME to the DREAMSCAPE MINI ENHYPEN series— a collection of seven unique fanfics that blur the lines between fantasy, crime, comedy, and romance. Each story dives deep into intricate plots, so if you were hoping for simple FLUFF or SMUT, you might want to look elsewhere. But if you're here for thrilling twists, complex characters, and captivating worlds, you've come to the right place! BUCKLE UP; it's going to be a wild ride!
WORD COUNT MIGHT RANGE FROM 10K—20K,
MINORS, please steer clear of the SMUT fanfics. However, don't worry—you’re more than welcome to dive into the fluff stories! They’re just as captivating and enjoyable, offering all the heartwarming moments without the mature content. Enjoy responsibly!
IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN ANY OF THESE FICS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHICH ONE YOU'D LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN!
JUST REPLY WITH THE PREFERENCE, AND I’LL MAKE SURE TO KEEP YOU UPDATED. THANKS!
﹙ 🕊️ ﹚ ぃ ──── SHE HAS LOST EVERY CASE, HOW COULD SHE WIN MINE?
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EXCUSE ME !
READ HERE
SUSPECT ! HEESEUNG × LAWYER ! AFAB READER
MATURE THEMES, LAW BASED & SMUT !
Heeseung is unexpectedly thrust into the center of a murder investigation, accused of killing an old school friend. The truth, however, runs deeper than it appears, leaving everyone questioning whether he's truly the suspect. Enter you, his defense lawyer, notorious for losing every case you take on. Against all odds, you're handed Heeseung's case, and let’s just say…it’s a recipe for disaster for both of you. As you dig deeper, unraveling layers of deception, you’ll have to confront your own doubts and insecurities. Will you be able to prove Heeseung's innocence, or will this case be another tally in your string of failures?
﹙ 🧊 ﹚ ぃ ──── DID I REALLY DESERVE TO BE CAUGHT UP WITH SUCH A TROUBLE?
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OOPS, WRONG ERA !
READ HERE
TIME TRAVELLER ! JAY × STUDENT ! AFAB READER
20TH CENTURY AU, SLIGHTLY FUTURISTIC & FLUFF !
Jay was the epitome of a perfect student—charming, intelligent, and utterly dedicated. The only catch? He was a time traveler from the future, marooned in the 20th century and trying to blend in as a normal teenager. When you discovered his secret, you seized the opportunity. You blackmailed him into becoming your personal homework and assignment writer, using his advanced knowledge to help you ace your classes. Jay’s attempts to navigate high school life while fulfilling his unexpected new role provided endless amusement and challenges for both of you.
﹙ ☁️ ﹚ ぃ ──── WHY WOULD YOU SHOW UP WHEN I MOVED ON?
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WINDS CHANGE ☁︎
READ HERE
EX ! JAKE × EX ! AFAB READER
ANGST & SMUT !
It's been five years since you and Jake called it quits, each going your separate ways. Life seemed fine—until the dreaded wedding invitation arrives from an old friend. Reluctantly, you decide to attend, only to find Jake, your ex, waiting there like a storm on the horizon, ready to turn your calm into chaos. With unresolved feelings and past memories looming, the wedding becomes a battlefield of witty exchanges, accidental encounters, and a slow unraveling of what truly ended between you two. Are the winds of change blowing in favor of a second chance, or will they only serve to remind you why you broke up in the first place?
﹙ 🍁 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW IT'S MY FAULT, BUT I WANNA MAKE IT BETTER!
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GET WELL SOON シ︎
READ HERE
RACER ! SUNGHOON × ORPHAN ! AFAB READER
MENTIONS OF CRIME & ACCIDENT, SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE & OVERALL FLUFF !
You’ve always considered yourself a good person—kind, forgiving, and patient. But Sunghoon tested every bit of that. One reckless, drunken drive was all it took for him to flip your life upside down, leaving you temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The inconvenience was more than just physical; it was a wound to your pride and independence. Sunghoon, however, refused to walk away from his mistake. Guilt-ridden and determined to make amends, he became a constant presence in your life—covering your medical bills, offering you emotional support, and sticking around even when you wished he wouldn’t.
﹙ 🦄 ﹚ ぃ ──── CAN'T YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF BY YOURSELF?
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LIKE PINK !
READ HERE
GUARDIAN ANGEL ! SUNOO × CLUMSY ! AFAB READER
FANTASY & PURE FLUFF !
You’ve always believed you were cursed with the "unlucky girl syndrome." From tripping on flat surfaces to losing your keys every other day, it seemed like misfortune followed you everywhere. But was it really a curse, or just bad luck? You never quite figured it out. When a guardian angel was sent from above, you hoped your luck would finally turn around. Instead, you got Sunoo—a messy, clumsy, and utterly unhelpful angel who seemed more like a walking disaster than a divine helper. All you could think of was asking God for a refund, because with Sunoo around, your life was about to get a lot more chaotic… and maybe a little brighter, too.
﹙ 🔥 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW A TRICK TOO!
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SIZZLES OF HIM ᯾
READ HERE
CLASSMATE ! JUNGWON × AFAB ! READER
FANTASY ELEMENTS, MAGICAL AU & SMUT !
There was always something about your quiet, mysterious classmate Jungwon that piqued your curiosity. You couldn't quite put your finger on it—until the day you accidentally peeked into his room and saw him hovering mid-air, surrounded by sparks of electricity. It all made sense then; he wasn't just your average student. Little did he know, you were hiding a secret of your own—one that mirrored his in more ways than one. Two forces of nature, each with powers as different as night and day, destined to collide. As they say, opposites attract, but in your case, they might just ignite.
﹙ 🍫 ﹚ ぃ ──── THIS MIGHT SOUND CRAZY BUT TRUST ME IT'S TRUE!
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TIED UP IN YOU !
READ HERE
PHONE GUY ! NIKI × STUDENT ! AFAB READER
CRACK (?), PURE FLUFF !
Niki was a good guy, no doubt about it. The only problem? He was your phone. How, exactly, did your phone transform into this strikingly handsome guy? It was baffling, frustrating, and, honestly, a bit overwhelming. Here you were, trying to navigate a world where your device had somehow become a charming, infuriatingly attractive human being. And to make matters worse, he was as stubborn and endearing as any person you'd ever met.
﹙ 🍒 ﹚ ぃ ──── THANK YOU FOR READING!
Sena’s note: I’m not sure when I'll finish these seven fics, but I hope it’s soon. I’m unsure if anyone will be interested, but this was a preview of what’s coming.
main masterlist.
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staycait · 7 months
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⊹   ﹒   ❝  a losers secret ⠀⊹⠀˚⠀ ౨ৎ
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𝜗𝜚 ┈ loser!scara x shy!fem!reader ㅤ ✦
𝐈. ──ㅤ youre the good and shy girl of the school, everyone knows you and everyone likes you, you consider everyone a friend, even the loser that sits in the back of the class. but what happens if you, the most well-liked good girl, gets paired up with the most hated loser in school ?
𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ mentions of fingering , overstimulation , cream pie , raw sex , mentions of markings , little bits of degradation 'n praise, reader is very shy and gets nervous easily , reader is inexperienced , reader is innocent , breeding kink , && corruption kink .
𝐈𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ nsfw , smut , english is not my first language, please forgive me , proofread , fluffy yet suggestive ending .
﹒ thoughts ; hope u guys enjoy this ,, its been months since i was active here and im trying to get back here because ive been starving yall </3 . btw , reqs are open ! feel free to req anything . :) what do we think of new theme tho? it keeps changing 😭 .. and ngl this fic kinda sucks. ☹️☹️ but yeah i hope u guys still like this even if it’s horrible!
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> story right under the cut <
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SCARAMOUCHE is the typical loner you’d see in your class, black jacket with the hoodie over his head, headphones on, is at the back of the class, and much more. there were rumors that he murdered someone, that he does drugs, and the list goes on. no one likes him—in fact, everyone hates him.. almost everyone hates him.
for your english project, you got paired up with scaramouche. after the teacher announced who would be paired with who, everyone in your class came up to you, telling you how much sympathy they have for you, that how sorry they are for you, and telling you ‘good luck with dealing with him’.
you were confused, what was so bad about scaramouche? sure there were rumors, but if they don’t evidence that they did those stuff, you have no reason to believe in the rumors. you felt so bad for him, he already had no one by his side, and the entire school hates him.
you went up to scaramouche, he immediately notices your presence and looks up at you with an indifferent expression on his face, yet he looked awfully tired.. he took off his headphones and he stared to speak,
“what? here to bully me for having no friends?” you hear him scoff, a frown plays on his lips as he brings his gaze to the floor.
hearing his words made you protest, you would never bully anyone, or even hurt a fly !
“n-no! of course not..” you stammered.
you fiddle with your fingers in nervousness. you always get nervous whenever you talk to new people or when people assume things about you, a slight blush creeps up your cheeks as you think about his words.
the indifference immediately leaves scaramouche’s face once he notices your blushing. he stares at you for a moment before a huge smirk appears on his face.
“ah, so you’re not like all the others?” scaramouche tilts his head back and chuckles.
“huh..?”
you take a seat next to scaramouche’s chair and you bring it closer to him.
“what do you mean by that..?”
“everyone else treats me like i’m sort of monster or freak. you, however, seem different from everyone.”scaramouche leans back in his chair.
“well, you don’t seem like a freak or a monster..”
you were growing increasingly nervous, and as an attempt to calm yourself down, you look down to your lap to hide your nervous and red face and grip the hem of your skirt. you never thought someone would assume you’d bully them— let alone think that you think of them as a freak or a monster!
you can’t help but notice that scaramouche’s eyes trail down to your legs. it’s quite unnerving, and your short skirt doesn’t help much with that either.
as a way to snap out of his thoughts, scaramouche shakes his head and sighs.
“are you just saying that to be nice? what about me isn’t freaky?”
“u-uhm… you seem like a normal person. you look.. um.. cool too..?”
scaramouche looks back at you and raises his eyebrows.
“oh yeah? you think I’m cool?”
you notice him shifting slightly, leaning toward you.
“then, you surely don’t mind me getting closer, right?”
your blush gets heavier the moment you feel scaramouche leaning in closer to you.
“no… not at all.”
scaramouche grins at your response and scoots even closer to you.
“then is it okay if…” he trails off, and his voice gets husky as he leans in. you feel something touch your leg, you look over to see his hand resting on your thigh.
“i suppose so..”
scaramouche’s eyes light up after hearing you agree. you could feel him plant his lips on your neck; a few gentle kisses on your skin.
“how about if i…” scaramouche places a finger along the hem of your short skirt.
a small whimper escapes your lips, you don’t know how to feel about being this close this to someone, you had never been this close or intimate with anyone.
“is it alright for me to… lift your skirt up?”
your eyes widened, you weren’t sure how you’d respond to that, but, if you were going to be honest, scaramouche was making you feel hot down there..
his words made you feel tingly and horny, but his gaze was what was making your panties damp and wet.
“can we.. go to a private room first?”
…who knew it was so easy for you to fall right into scaramouche’s trap?
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after successfully making the teacher believe that scaramouche he was taking you to the clinic, he brought you to his dorm, and next, to his bedroom.
SCARAMOUCHE had you on a tight mating press, your clothes on the floor with bits of your orgasm stained onto it. (it got to your clothes because scaramouche had fingered you until you squirted all over the place.)
how could scaramouche have resisted himself? you looked so innocent, and so corruptible, he just had to get his hands on you.
scaramouche groans as he feels your walls clamping down on him for the ‘nth time. it was a sign you were about to have another orgasm, another sign was when your moans get higher-pitched.
the feeling of scaramouche’s cock mercilessly ramming into you was agonizingly pleasurable. you couldn’t think of anything else but him and his cock, your body couldn’t help but just have orgasm after orgasm.
you held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life had depended on it. scaramouche’s dick was bruising your cervix, fucking you into the mattress, and possibly trying to fuck your brains out.
“does it feel nice being reduced to nothing but a whore?”
scaramouche grabs a handful of your hair, staring at your messy and slutty state. the way you looked so disheveled, the way you were gasping for breath, the way you gave up trying to keep up with scaramouche’s quick and brutal pace.
you looked so helpless and vulnerable under him, his cock ramming into you and you have no choice but to take it like the good girl you are.
“answer me, you whore.”
scaramouche speaks to you with a stern voice, in which you immediately nod your head.
he smirks, letting go of your hair. he speeds up his thrusting, bringing one of his hands down from your waist to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter until,
finally, with just one more snap of scaramouche’s hips, you both reach your intense climax and cum together.
scaramouche continues to sloppily thrust into you, however, it’s much much slower, he continues to thrust until he comes into a full stop.
“oh fuck, you felt so good..”
you both lay there panting, with scaramouche still on top of you. he stares at all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your neck (he also left a lot on your thighs.), feeling proud he had his markings left on you.
“scara..?”
scaramouche snaps out of the daze he was in while he was staring at the markings he left on you—he immediately looks up at you and responds back.
“what is it?”
“can we do things like this… more often?..”
scaramouche chuckles, finding your shyness even after all the rough sex you two just had adorable.
“hmm.. sure.”
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Dirty Work 51
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: 50 chapters?!
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You cross your arms, trying to comfort yourself as you wait. The front door opens and the only harbinger of your visitors are their footsteps. The grim pall of the house swallows them up as they shuffle over the doormat.
You don’t look over as their figures appear as shadowy blurs in the edge of your vision. You’re too humiliated to face your guests. Not truly yours, but Loki’s. Like everything else; this house, the very couch you sit on, the clothes you wear. Isn’t that what he’d only just berated you for? Taking it all so ungratefully.
“Darling,” Frigga’s the first to speak as she approaches, almost sheepishly, “my, I’d say it’s lovely to see you both but you look dreadful.”
You wince as she nears and shrink down, bending your legs as you long to curl into a ball. You hug your knees and curl your shoulders. She hovers over you, turning to speak to the others.
“You must open the curtains, it’s awfully gloomy in here,” she demands.
Loki mutters but at a grunt from his father, he acquisces. You stare at the black pants as he tears open the drapes, the rod ringing with his efforts. Another figure looms close. Odin shifts and places his hand on the armrest behind your shoulders.
“I see all is in a state of fine order,” Odin proclaims dryly, “you have this poor thing hanging from the troughs–”
“Father,” Loki sneers as he faces the room again. He steps forward, trying to tidy his wild curls, made even more defiant by his neglect. You notice his attire; his shirt is untucked and clashes with his tan trousers. “I will not be lectured.”
“Oh, dear, look at her face,” Frigga lowers herself to sit on the edge of the sofa and touches your arm kindly, “her dressings need changing.”
You avert your eyes and bite down on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten your nose and the peeling bandages. All that wasn’t as dire as the walls.
“Mm, and that isn’t my fault, mother. It isn’t I who would injure her thus. Rather your golden child,” Loki spits. “If you’ve come to argue the point further, I haven’t the time to hear it.”
“Son,” Odin girds, “do not rile yourself with presumptions. We’ve come to make sure you are well, as any decent parents might.”
“Hm, because you’ve always been so eager to visit, father,” he scoffs.
“Eh, Loki,” Frigga squeezes your arm before she stands again, “we thought to share some news to you. In person as it were. You wouldn’t answer the phone but we do believe you deserve to have it straight from us.”
“Oh, what is it now? Are we celebrating the solstice?” Loki folds his arms and lifts his chin, “you can check us off as not attending, thank you.”
“Now, don’t be an ass,” Odin growls, “if you would hear us, you might not have the urge.”
“Why should I listen to you, eh? Did you listen to me? Did you hear me when I walked in bruised to the gills? Did you hear me over that lout’s lies?” Loki snarls, “you made no move to stop me going but here you are, pouting and begging forgiveness. 
“Well, let me make it clear, you and that cretin you call your eldest son, will not entangle yourselves in another of my marriages. It will not happen. I told you that morning and I meant it. He is no brother of mine and if you continue to pander to his misdeeds, then you will count yourself two children, not three.”
You tweak a brow and tilt your head as his rant swirls over you. Marriage? Surely, he only misspoke.
“Would you listen?” Odin’s voice booms, echoing around the room as he steps around the couch and punches his palm. “We do count only two children; you and Hela.”
“Right,” Loki says unconvinced, “certainly, you will do your best not to let me share a table with him again. We can pretend nothing happened. That he did not accost my wife. Just as before, it is under the carpet as we stomp it into submission.”
“Wife?” Frigga murmurs in confusion and glances at you. You feel her gaze but don’t meet it. You’re just as confused.
“I mean it,” Odin insists and turns to look at you, “I am ashamed that my son would hurt you, dear. Brute as he is, I cast him out. He is banned from the house and wiped from my ledgers. Should you wish it, I would gladly testify to his guilt.”
You don’t reply. Which son does he mean? The one who chased you through the night or the one locking you in the dark?
“Thor is not welcome in this family anymore. If you hadn’t run away…” Odin faces Loki again.
“Oh, forgive me for my skepticism, father,” Loki grimaces, “you’ve not exactly earned a lot of trust from me–”
“Nor you me,” Odin counters.
“You never gave me a chance,” Loki hisses, “very well then, thank you, oh, great father, for practising an ounce of good judgment.”
“Boy,” Odin wags his finger at his son as he steps closer.
“Boy?” Loki exclaims, “get out. Now.”
“Loki,” Frigga screeches, “enough. We’ve come all the way here to apologise to you and… her, and you are being insensible. Would you hear us?”
Loki rolls his eyes. He keeps one arm across his chest and bends the other to flutter his fingers dismissively, “you kept him in my life. You begged me to look past his slights for years and refused to see them until someone got hurt.”
“Yes, we were neglectful. Willfully blind,” Frigga says sadly, peeking back at you, “seeing you that morning, and now, the bruises, and her… we… we are very sorry and we can understand that it might be too late for all this but we only want to be heard.”
Loki is quiet, roiling as he breathes loudly. He swallows and sniffs, “yes, you should look at her and see what he did to her.” His lip twitches, “and if I had not been there, imagine what he would have done–”
You close your eyes as you feel a weight over you, feel the suffocating heat, hear Thor’s sinister tone, ‘little maid’.
“Stop!” You throw your hands up as your eyes snap open, “please stop, I don’t want to think about it.”
“Oh, dear,” Frigga spins and once more rests herself on the couch’s edge, “you don’t have to. Please, you’re safe. He won’t bother you again. I’ll be sure of it.”
You knot your fingers together and twist until your knuckles hurt. You can’t look at her, at any of them. You shake your head and shrug.
“As you can see, she is not ready for company,” Loki asserts.
“What I see is she’s being shrouded away in this crypt,” Frigga rebuffs, “she requires sunshine. She needs healing, not paranoia.”
“You don’t know what we’ve been through,��� Loki accuses, “how can you know what she needs?”
“I have eyes,” Frigga snips, “darling,” she speaks to you, “would you like some tea in the garden? Just you, I wouldn’t want to infringe.”
You gulp and rub your neck. You nod, “yes.”
“See?” Frigga pets your knee kindly before she stands again, “I won’t tread upon your toes, son, you get her the tea and see her to the garden.” She sidles aside to stand with her husband, “and then you will explain to me this whole marriage business.”
You glance over at Loki, the same question nipping at your ears. Was he confused? Why did he say all that? Marriage, wife? No, prisoner and warden, that’s what it truly is.
Slowly the doom recedes. The warmth of the sun beams down as you keep your finger hooked in the handle of the tea cup. You let the steaming brew go cold as your eyes devour the scenery. The greens, the violets, the indigos, and pinks. Colours all around.
You suck in deep breaths of the spring air, tasting the last dregs of dew and the floating pollen. You hear the council of sparrows hiding in the bushes and watch the pair of doves bobbing across the grass. Bees buzz between the blooming stems and insects flit back and forth through the air. The seasonal renewal is underway as a whole new world awakens.
Beneath the serenity, there is fear. This won’t last. This is just a brief respite from your desolation. A flicker of light in the dark.
So you bask in it as much as you can, for as long as you can. You can’t help but peek over at the french doors and wonder about what’s happening behind them. What is being said? Are Frigga and Odin still there? Is Loki still angry?
You cup your chin and take a sip. This is all you ever wanted. You only wish he would have listened to you. Why must someone else talk sense into him? Why can’t he just hear you?
Your vision hazes as you drift into the peaceful hue. The spring swallows you up and mutes your worries. You cling to that moment, knowing the end will come sooner than later.
The doors open and pierce the spring soliloquy. You look over as Loki steps out. His shirt is tucked in and he’s tried to comb his hair. Still, he looks out of sorts. His eyes are circled darkly and his cheek tics as his jaw clenches.
He watches you as he nears the table, standing across from you as he extends his long fingers to the iron surface. He takes a breath and looks around. He retracts his hand to rest on the back of the chair.
“May I?” He asks.
His request surprises you. That he would even want permission. After all, this is his home, all of this is allotted to you at his whim.
“Sure,” you sit back and let go of the teacup.
He drags the chair out and lowers himself. He bends his arms over the table and his head swivels again, as if searching for something. He clears his throat and turns straight. He stares at you as you peer down at the table.
“It’s beautiful out,” he comments, “the tulips are coming in.”
You nod, “yeah, they’re pretty.”
He exhales and shifts in the chair. He taps his fingertips then weaves his fingers through each other. He stills his fidgeting.
“How is your tea?”
You look down at the cup, mostly untouched. You raise your eyes to meet him and purse your lips.
“It’s fine,” you answer, “what’s going on?”
He circles his thumbs around each other and pushes his shoulders up before forcing the tension out, “I thought I would… come enjoy the garden with you, pet.”
“Oh,” you utter.
“Oh,” he echoes staunchly. “Unless, I am disturbing you?”
You shake your head, “I thought you wanted me to go inside…”
He frowns and lowers his chin, “I…” he begins then unclasps his hands and sits straight. He rests his elbows on the armrests and his cheek strains, “I want you to be safe.”
You nod and look at your lap as you think, “your parents said Thor is gone.”
“Yes, so he has been cast out. For how long, I can’t be certain,” he sighs, “but he is not my only worry.”
“What else—”
“If I’d not discovered your escape, you would’ve fallen and hurt yourself worse.”
“Loki, I… I’m sorry but I couldn’t–”
“And you do not eat when I bring you food. You hardly sleep.”
“What about you?” You toss back as you raise your head.
His lips thin, “yes, what about me. I am just as guilty in all this, I see that now.”
You’re quiet as you consider his admission. It’s a rare moment. Not exactly victory, but a consolation. As much as you can hope for.
“I appreciate all you have done but I… don’t want to be a burden anymore,” you say, “if that’s how you feel about me, I think we’d both be better off if I left.”
He goes rigid and his throat tightens, “pet…”
“Or maybe I could just be the maid again. We could go back to that. That would be okay.”
He huffs and hangs his head. He brings his fingertips together as he seems to argue with himself. Slowly, he lifts his head, “no, that simply won’t do.”
Your face falls, “please don’t lock me up again.”
Your eyes gloss as you pout, begging him wordlessly. He winces as his mouth slants, one way then the other. He mulls on your plea.
He tilts his head one way then the other, stretching out his neck. He slips his elbows off the armrest and grips the chair, pushing himself to his feet. He rolls his shoulders straight and rounds the table. He stops beside you and lowers himself down to a knee. You watch him, confused.
He takes your hand and draws it over the side of the chair. He holds it in his, stroking it as he peers up at you.
“You cannot be a burden or the maid, and you certainly may not leave,” he says, “you are going to be my wife.”
You blink. You’re not sure you heard him right. He squeezes your hand and you look down at his grip.
“Loki?” You babble.
“I haven’t picked a ring, I’m sorry,” he pulls your hand to him, leaning in to kiss it, petting it, “but perhaps you might help in that.” He puts his other knee down and moves even closer, “we will have a lot of planning to do, won’t we, darling?”
He angles to lean his head against your arm, keeping his hand on yours. You’re paralysed. He’s proposing to you but there isn’t any room for your rejection. Like all other things, it’s a command. You have to keep yourself from answering, ‘yes, Mr. Laufeyson.’
You look down at his dark tresses and let out the breath racked beneath your ribs, “I’ve never been to a wedding.” The statement is hollow and numb. You don’t know what else to say.
He chuckles and lifts his head to grin up at you, “well, how exciting that you’re first will be your own.”
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neo-nomatrix · 2 years
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Give you the world
Joel Miller x reader
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summary: You love Joel more than you can explain, you just can’t figure out if he feels the same
warnings: age gap, angst ig
my last joel fic
a/n: could be read as a part two of my last Joel fic but it can be read as a stand alone
You haven’t seen Joel truly happy in a while, the closest it’s come to is now. You’re standing with Ellie when Joel runs up to his brother, Tommy, who you’ve heard little about. You swear you hear him sniffling as he walks back to you.
The gates of Jackson are unbelievable. It’s somehow so incredibly warm despite the thick layer of snow below your feet. Everyone is beyond inviting and kind, it reminds you of before the outbreak.
“It’s amazing here,” you tell Tommy and Maria as you, Joel, and Ellie eat the plates of food in front of you.
“I’m glad you all like it,” Maria responds, smiling,
“It’s safe here,” Joel mumbles while leaning over his plate.
You can tell he’s thinking about something, whether it’s a good thing or not, you don’t know.
-
Maria leads you and Ellie to your home for the next day? week? month? You’re still not sure how long you’ll spend here. You secretly hope it’s a long time but you can tell it won’t last.
Since you’ve arrived you haven’t seen Joel in at least three hours.
“Hey, El, do you know where Joel is?” you ask the girl, slightly concerned.
“No, are you going out looking for him?” she asks.
“Probably, don’t know where I should start though,” You respond.
Something drew you to the carpenter's shed when you were searching for Joel. You peer into the window and as you suspected you saw him sitting there. Toying with new boots you assumed Tommy had given him. As you open the door Joel didn’t look up like you had expected.
“Joel,” You say quietly.
“Joel,” you say again, this time tapping his shoulder and using a firmer voice.
He slightly jolted back like he was shocked.
“Oh, hey,” he said reluctantly.
“Is something the matter? You seem upset,” You ask worried.
“How’d you like it if you stayed here for a while?”
“This sounds like a trick,” you tell him.
“I’ve asked Tommy to take Ellie the rest of the way. I’m gonna leave too, and you’re gonna stay here,” He said, his eyes not meeting yours.
“What?” you say, as if you didn’t hear him the first time.
He still wasn’t looking at you.
“And what makes you think you can just decide that for us?”
“It’s the best option for you and Ellie,” he said.
He still wasn’t looking at you.
“Like hell it is! Joel, you are the only person I trust right now, and as far as I'm concerned you are the only person who can take care of me. You promised me you’d protect me, you fucking promised!” You’re both standing now, in a fit of rage you start lightly hitting his chest with your fists.
“Hey, hey I know what I said. You can call me a liar all you want. Just please, stay here. Where you’re safe. This is how i’m protecting you,” He says, you don’t miss the way his voice breaks.
“Joel, don't do this! I’ll never fucking forgive you. I’m gonna hate you if you do this,” You sob into his chest as he holds your clenched hands.
“I’m sorry, I'm so sorry. I just- I just can’t take care of you. I’m worthless to you now,” At this point his eyes are threatening tears too.
“You can’t! You can’t leave me too. No, no, no, I won't let you.”
“Doll, you have to trust me. I’d give up everything for you if I could. But you’re young, you have so much more life to live. If I take you with me I'm endangering that. And I'd rather die than see you hurt,” he admits as he picks up his boots and leaves you to settle with your own pain.
_
Ellie had told you about her own fight with Joel only a few hours after your own. Part of you still can’t believe he would just let go of the two of you so easily.
You’re walking beside Ellie and Tommy to the stables. You’re still processing the fact that this is “the end.”
“So what? This is it? Everything we did all for just this,” Ellie asks you.
“Maybe not,” you nod towards Joel who’s standing by one of the horses.
“Are you here to say goodbye?” You ask Joel, walking up to him.
“Look, I still think you’d be safer here and Ellie would be better off with Tommy. But you both deserve a choice. You can-” Joel gets cut off by Ellie throwing her bag at him.
“Let’s just go already,” she tells the both of you.
“You have every right to hate me, doll. I don’t blame you if you want to stay here now. But I need you to know how much you mean to me, okay?” Joel says, his hands cup your face.
You sure as hell don’t miss the way his eyes finally meet yours.
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heartlesscorpse · 5 months
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You Will Always Be Mine. ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
As I mentioned in some other post w/ my Ghostface hcs— here’s the mini fic w/ prosthetics from Slipknot as inspiration :)) I also used some other stuff from Slipknot like Vermilion and Iowa just to get the whole set in my head and it was fucking difficult at first for me to figure out the opening for this drkgenrgkjdgjnskdverlb my mind went places so fast I was internally giggling like some maniac while writing this 💀💀 Please forgive me this looks like shit even though I edited it over :”)) Before I forget I’ve also got the mini fic posted on my Ao3 which you can read here.
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Danny’s eyes fluttered closed, his nose nestled in your hair as he deeply inhaled the scent of your shampoo that always clung to you. Exhaling sharply as his head reeled slowly from your personal space with a quiet groan of satisfaction escaping him. His arms tighten around your unconscious form cradled in his hold, his footsteps carrying confidence as he silently strides through the darkened halls of your home. He finally caved in after a handful of months, watching you from afar whenever he wasn’t busy tormenting some other poor Roseville resident on those nights. Hell, it felt like torture; you being so blissfully unaware of his presence as you’re going about your day-to-day routines. 
Fuck, everything about you just made it so difficult to do his work properly.
Danny never thought, a potential victim of his, would take root inside his mind and fester like an open wound. He adored and loved everything about you. The color of your eyes, your smell, the way you dress, your voice, the sound of your laughter, and that gorgeous smile of yours. Everything.  He can’t even find the words to describe how much he loved you, he was obsessed with you. He had some of your missing belongings, a shit ton of photos of you, anything of yours. Enough stuff to build a shrine completely dedicated to you, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted you, he needed to keep you all to himself. As he propped open the back door with his boot and stepped outside into the crisp cool night air with your body still tucked close to him, the neighborhood was fairly silent other than the faint barks from a dog on some other street as he made it over to his car and carefully set you down lying in the car seat at the back before moving around to climb into the driver’s seat. 
Car key in, ignition started, and he was slowly pulling out from the sidewalks with a grin marring his features behind the mask. Feeling a little giddy from his accomplishments, Danny couldn’t help but softly chuckle to himself. He finally had you, and he planned on keeping you with him forever.  You were his little mouse after all.  He can’t stand the thought of another being so close to you, it always left a sickening pit in his stomach and made his blood boil seeing strangers talk to you. But what’s adding another victim to his body count? He’s just doing his job in protecting you. 
You don’t need anybody else, just him. 
And now, Danny’s home was going to be your home too! Of course, he took into consideration that you were going to be upset or mad at him for this, and he’d have to tie you down to prevent you from leaving his place. He can’t have you escaping him after all that hard work he pulled off. But in time, he hoped you’d grow to accept your new life with him. Danny could feel his heart palpitating from the overwhelming amount of excitement when he pulled into the garage of his place, turning the engine off and moving around back to carefully pluck you out from the car and carry you on inside. Basking in the familiarity of his home to the few newspaper clippings lying around and placing his trusty camera on the counter as he made his way to his bedroom and gently laid you down, cuffing one of your wrists to the bedpost to restrain you from leaving when you wake up soon. 
Danny loomed over your still unconscious form, his head slowly tilted to the side as he pulled his mask aside with a smile slowly curling on his lips, admiring the peaceful expression written on your features. Oh, how completely oblivious you are right now. He leaned down, pressing a kiss at the crown of your head, turning away to leave you in his room to sleep off the effects of the drug. “Sleep tight, dollface.” Danny mused with a whisper, quietly pulling the door shut behind him. 
He had you in his grasp now, and he'll never let you go. You’re rightfully his, his everything. Nobody else gets to have you now. 
You solely belong to him.
☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐
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tallglasstea · 1 month
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Media N Basketball Part 1
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Synopsis: The WNBA’s new Social Media Manager, Amara, heads to Seattle to help improve the Seattle Storms media pages. She has had a big crush on Gabby Williams but avoids her due to rumors that Gabby is dating Marine Johannes.
Please note: This takes place during the 2025 season and this is my first fic in yearsss. Forgive me if I am a bit rusty.
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Thursday July 11, 2025
Third P.O.V
It’s almost the halfway point of the 2025 WNBA season and Amara couldn’t be more excited. She has officially been at the W for 9 months and has been having the time of her life. Still getting the hang of things, but overall she loves her coworkers and just the overall environment. Witnessing the 2025 draft and seeing all the college stars getting drafted and to just know that she was really a part of the big moment will always be a core memory for her.
Being based in NYC meant that she helped the Liberty, Sun, and Mystics a lot with their social media pages because she was so close. Providing a new and fresh outlook on their pages, the team's pages have grown exponentially. The Liberty has grown to 1.2 million on Tiktok and 2 Million on Instagram. The Sun to  600K on Tiktok and 400K on Instagram. The Mystics to 724K on Tiktok and 527K on Instagram. Teams immediately took notice of the newfound fanbases and the rest enlisted to have Amara flown out to help their teams.
Amara’s first stop would be Seattle Storm with her favorite (and closest) coworker Destiny. Despite having Jewell, Nneka and Nika, the Storm could not seem to grow their fan bases on social media. Amara couldn’t help but feel nervous as her personal celebrity crush was also on the Seattle Storm this season.
Amara’s P.O.V 
“Gworllll are you excited to go to Seattle?!?” Destiny nudged Amara’s shoulder while they were settling on the plane to take off. “Your favorite girl is going to be there.”
“Pleaseeee stop. This is work, we need to stay professional.” I tried to keep my resolve but I couldn’t help to smile when thinking about my little crush. “Plus I heard that she is dating Marine Johannes so that dream is dead anyways.” Maybe if I said it enough then my little crush would fade away. ‘But she looked soo fine during the 2024 Olympics,’ I thought to myself.  
“Mmchttt” Destiny rolled her eyes and rolled over to close her eyes. I was tired too and we had a long flight ahead of us, so I might as well get some rest. 
Friday July 12, 2025
Destiny and I are headed to the Storm’s new practice facility, and my anxiety is through the roof. Not very demure nor mindful of me huh? I love working for the W but it’s still very nerve wracking having to meet new people and new teams. Especially women as tall and beautiful as them. I’m not short but I’m not exactly tall either, standing at a cool 5’6. I was so into my thoughts I didn’t even realize that destiny was talking to me until she started snapping in my face. 
“Yoooooo is there anyone there? Bitch are you on autopilot?!” Destiny continuously snapping in my face. I mush her with my free hand. “Don’t snap at me! Anywhore what were you saying?” I asked. “What type of content are we starting with? Since we are almost there, I want to prepare,” she replied. Looking at the GPS, I realize that she is absolutely right. 2 minutes away. What if I crash this car right now? I'm kidding, I'm kidding (sort of, not really). I’m thinking what would be the best video to start showcasing their personalities. “I think we should do the rapid fire questions for each of the players. We should probably feel them out and kind of gauge what they are comfortable with answering and they aren’t,” I stated after a few beats. “ I call dibs on Nneka, Nika, Victoria, Mercedes, Joyner and Sami.” I wanted to make sure that I didn’t really have to interact with Gabby, my stalkerish ass could just admire her from a distance. Destiny looked at me bewildered as we pulled in front of the facility. “You evil bitch, I can’t believe you called dibs,” she laughed as we got out of the car. 
The walk from the car ride to the main practice gym was short but felt like it took forever.
We had unloaded our equipment and were waiting outside the gym for the General managers and coaches. We, mainly I, didn’t want to just bust in on their practice while Destiny wanted to do exactly that. Once we introduced ourselves to the GMs and coaches, we told them our game plan for content. I took a deep breath, as the doors to the gym opened. Here goes nothing…..
To be continued….
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Sooo what did we think? I know I’m rusty so don’t eat me up toooooooo bad. I was trying to make it short but I figured it would be better as a multi-part fic. Please let me know what y’all think! Since there was nothing not even hcs on Gabby I figured I would start some of my own.
If y’all like my writing style, I would like to open myself up to WNBA requests along with other womens sports.
Welp see ya soon bookies!
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Can I suggest a lewis hamilton fic where the reader is their teammate they've basically been through through thic and thin and they have an argument abt lewis not tell you abt going too ferrari and they confess their feelings and let their frustrations through sex??? (( THIS IS LITERALLY SOO MUCH TOO ASK FOR SO UF YOU CAN WRITE IT ITS FINEEE)) - anon 🌺
☆ lost in the fire — lewis hamilton x reader
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tags: smut, switching control, sexual tension, angry sex, dirty talk, age gap
note: first ff I write in a while, please y’all be kind with my english :3 hope you like it, I thirst way too much for this man
masterlist
»»————- ★ ————-««
The way the evening is ending is making you nervous and you’re not very good at hiding it. Well, you didn’t expect to discover the worst news possible in the middle of the after party of a fashion show in Paris and above all you didn’t expect to hear that from a stranger and not from the person concerned. Such person concerned is now driving you back to your Paris hotel because according to him you are “too upset” to take your own car.
Now, while you’re looking outside the window without saying a word, you hope he told someone to take your car to the hotel, or you swear to God you’re gonna scream to his face. You want to scream to his face so bad.
The city night lights are magical but you can’t think about anything that isn’t what you had just discovered. The atmosphere is awkwardly silent. Lewis is keeping his sight straight on the road, hands on the wheel. His profile is a picture you know way too well. It’s obvious he wants to say something. Anything.
“You know we’re still gonna see each other every week, right?”
“That’s not the point.”
He lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not.”
“I am.”
“I’d rather not talk about it right now.”
“Then what do you wanna talk about?”
“Nothing.” You miss the awkward silence.
You already had arguments during your friendship/coworking/whatever that is, but never like that. That’s different. You feel hurt.
He finally reaches the hotel. He can’t stop right in front, so he parks in the next street. You open the door.
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to.”
He gets out of the car anyway. You’re not surprised he’s acting like a gentleman even when you’re so angry you could punch him. “It’s 2 AM and I won’t leave you alone.”
You walk alongside him, trying not to look at his open jacket. The fact that he’s wearing absolutely nothing under it isn’t helping. Damn this man and his impeccable fashion sense. “You weren’t so kind when you lied to me about your new contract.” At this point you don’t even care if people hear you argue.
“I didn’t lie.”
“Oh right, you just forgot to tell me.”
“I was going to.”
“When? When you’re already driving a Ferrari car? Don’t worry I’m not colourblind.” Great, now you reached the point where you can’t keep your mouth closed. And he’s following you to your room because he’s just like you, he has to have the last word.
“Soon. And stop using that sarcastic tone with me, I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Of course, my bad, you’re always right about everything. You’re so selfish and childish, running away from the things you love just because you’re scared.” You ask yourself if you’re provoking him too much. No, he deserves that. You’re about to open the door with the electronic key when he takes you wrist and pulls you away. He stands right between you and the door, preventing you from getting in. “Leave me alone.”
“I’m not scared, I don’t like to be ignored. You are the selfish one here, not trying to see things from my point of view. You think it’s so easy for me?” He’s raising his tone. He never did it with you and now you find yourself holding back the tears. “You can’t even imagine what does it mean to leave my team, to leave my friends, to leave… you. But I can’t stay anymore, it’s dragging me down and you know it.”
Those words touch your heart. You feel sorry for him but you just can’t forgive him. You simply can’t stand the thought of racing without him as your teammate. “Then why didn’t you tell me? We can fix this, we can make changes and…”
“I don’t want change, I want to be myself and I want to be listened to. I would have told you sooner but I didn’t want to hurt you. See, now you’re hurt and I don’t know what to do because…” You’re eyes are on him but he’s looking down. He’s still holding your wrist and you bet he feels your heartbeat going faster than him in a Mercedes. “Because I care about you and I don’t want to lose you.”
You try to release from his grasp but he pulls you close. “Well done, now you lost me.”
“You sure?”
“I hate you.”
He kisses you, immediately moving his other hand to your neck to pull you even closer. His dreads brush your shoulder. You try not to shake for the emotions filling you. You lose yourself in the kiss. You can’t think about anything else than your tongues tangled, so you completely forgot you’re still in the hallway. Lewis takes the electronic key from your hand and unlocks the door. He brings you in and closes it behind your back, pushing you on the door. It frustrates you that he always has you under his thumb, no matter how much effort you put into escaping it.
He wouldn’t force you to do anything, ever. You know that he will keep away his hands if you won’t make a move in that direction. However the moan you let slip makes him inevitably smile. You lick the gap between is teeth and proceed to kissing him more passionately.
He shouldn’t dare to laugh at you right now, not even if you’re probably about to explore each other bodies. You put your hands on his chest and push him on the wall of the bedroom so violently that you worry you’ve hurt him. Bold of you to even think you can hurt a F1 driver’s back. A seven times world champion F1 driver’s back.
Your hands travel under his jacket, brushing his nipples and causing him to hold his breath. His naked chest feels smooth. There’s no better feeling than having him finally in your hands. It’s a dream coming to reality.
“Oh you hate me so much.”
Can he read your thoughts? Or did he just say that because you’re mapping his upper body with your fingers? His kisses continue on your chin, then on your jaw and then on your neck. They’re soft yet so hot. You want to reply but you’re too worried to make another sound. His strong hands are now on your hips, they slide up to your waist, stroking it up and down, his mouth now reaching your naked shoulder and leaving marks on it.
He’s definitely now in control of the situation, as always. You want to regain it, but he’s good at making you melt under his palms. You want him in you so bad and you’ll have him. You take him by his jacket and drag him in front of the bed, quickly getting rid of his jacket. You push him on the white bed sheets, climb and sit on top of him. You can feel him hard.
He has the body and the face of a young god, he’s so flawless that makes your almost 20 years age difference look 0.
“Take off your clothes.” He commands.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
You pin his hands on his sides and begin slightly moving your hips. His eyes turn to the ceiling for a moment and his breath becomes louder. “You can’t torture me like this.”
“I think you deserve that.”
You stop and sit back in his lap. He looks up at you with his dark bambi eyes. They’re the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You take a moment to appreciate the sculpted inked chest he likes posting on instagram so much, thinking about all the times you spent trying to hide how jealous those fuckboy pictures make you feel. Maybe the jokes you always make on the topic betray you.
“Does this mean you forgive me?”
You’re unsure about that, but what you’re definitely sure of is that you’re falling deeply in love with this man. Those puppy eyes are making you regret all the bad things you said to him.
That doesn’t change that you’re still mad. “We’ll see.”
He helps you unzip your dress, moving his hands across your back and slowly down on your ass, and you let him. The straps of your dress fall down on your arms and he stands in order to press his mouth on your collarbone. He takes your dress off, it falls down on the moquette. “I want you.” He gets rid of your bra and begins kissing your breasts like they’re the sweetest fruit on Earth. “I want you so bad.”
Years of friendship colliding into that moment. You want to shout, insult him, hurt him because it hurts you so much watching him leave, but the only words that escape from your mouth are: “L-Lewis I–“. You bite your bottom lip.
You can see through his pleased smirk that he couldn’t wait to make you eat that “I hate you”.
He takes advantage of your moment of weakness to take back control. He flips your positions and frees you both from the last clothes. God, his arms are perfect. “Open wide for me, darling.” His hands on your thighs are making you unable to speak. “Good, just like that.” He licks his lips at the sight of your wetness.
You can’t take it anymore. “Stop playing Lewis, just… just do it.”
He bends over you, a few centimetres from your mouth. “Pretty please?”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
And so he does.
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lemoncrushh · 1 year
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Dressing For Revenge
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Summary: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who's willing to help you get over him.
Warnings: dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), angry sex (consensual), MUST BE 18+ TO READ
Word Count: 8.6k
Based on this request.
A/N: This is my first new fic of my rebrand. I hope you enjoy! Please be kind. FEEDBACK IS LOVE.
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“God, you look hot, Y/N.”
You smirked at your reflection in the mirror and at your friend Kelsie who sat on your bed behind you.
“Not bad, huh?” you wiggled your brows as your hands swept down your hips, accentuating the slim shape of the dress and your hourglass silhouette.
“I mean, I’d fuck you.”
You chuckled. “Thanks, Kelse.”
“That is the look you’re going for, right?” your friend asked. “The get me drunk and fuck me senseless look? Or is it the look but you can’t touch idea?”
“Hmm, I guess we’ll see,” you smirked.
“Huh?” Kelsie rose from the bed as you grabbed your handbag and strutted towards the front door. “What does that mean?”
“It means…it depends on who I run into.”
“Not Luke.”
You grimaced at the mention of his name. “Fuck no!” you yelled before quickly masking your disdain for your ex with a sweet smile. “But who knows who else will be there tonight.”
“There’s the Y/N I know,” Kelsie beamed, following you out to the awaiting Uber.
Nightclubs weren't really your scene. At least they hadn't been until you'd met Luke. He was rich and liked to flaunt it. His mission was always to see and be seen. So whether it was a Hollywood party or the loudest disco, he knew where the action was and always made an appearance. When he started taking you to clubs and parties, you weren't sure it was your thing. While you liked the personal attention he gave you and the money he spent on you, you didn't much enjoy watching other girls falling all over him. Especially drunk girls.
But you had to admit, even now, you had gotten used to jetset the lifestyle a bit. You'd come to know some great people, Kelsie included, because of the nightlife you'd shared with your ex.
Which unfortunately was the exact reason he was now your ex. Because of his lifestyle.
You could still smell the weed and whiskey that hung in the air that night you'd found him in the guest room at that party in Malibu with that little tramp. She'd barely been legal, for fuck sake, but that was beside the point. Up until then, you’d had your suspicions that Luke was cheating on you. Hell, he’d flirt with girls right in front of you. But every night he’d take you home and make you feel like the Queen of the World, and all your doubts managed to fizzle away like the bubbles in the champagne he’d paid for earlier.
That dreadful night, however, your suspicions had been confirmed in plain sight, the harsh reality stinging your eyes with the tears that it brought. Luke had begged for forgiveness later, swearing on his grandmother’s grave (who was still alive, by the way) that he would never do it again and that he loved only you. You’d told him you needed time to think about it, but it only took two days to find out from a mutual friend that he’d been out with another woman at yet another nightclub.
So stepping past security into this club was already starting to make you have second thoughts and leave a bitter taste in your mouth. But when Kelsie grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bar, you remembered the reason why you came.
Confiding in Kelsie, you promised you were ready to move on and have a nice girls’ night out. You let her believe it was her idea to get as dolled up as you had. And you did appreciate the little persuasion she’d provided. But truth be told, you would have gone out tonight with or without her. Perhaps moving on wasn’t the correct term for it, but one thing was for certain. You needed to get laid…badly.
Kelsie ordered you both cocktails from the bar while you kept your eyes peeled for contenders. You locked eyes with a handsome Latino who gave you a smile. You smiled back.
Possibly… you thought to yourself.
“Here you go, Y/N,” you heard Kelsie say as she handed you a glass.
“Thanks,” you muttered, quickly taking a long sip through the little straw.
“So how’s the turn out?” she grinned, turning to face the rest of the club alongside you.
“Not bad,” you chuckled. “Not great either. But the night is still young.”
“Hmm, someone’s eyeing you at two o’clock.”
Gazing over the crowd, you caught sight of the guy Kelsie was referring to. Eh. He was okay, but nothing to flip over. He definitely fell into the look but you can’t touch category. If he came by the bar, you’d let him buy you a drink, but that was it.
“Good evening ladies,” you heard a voice say from the other side of Kelsie. It was the Latin Lover. “What are we drinking tonight?”
“Nothing fancy,” Kelsie grinned, crossing one leg over the other as she batted her lashes. “Just rum and Coke.”
“Ah, a Cuba Libra!” the handsome man beamed, placing his hand on his chest. “You know, that’s where I’m from.”
“Cuba? No way!”
“Okay…it’s where my father’s from,” he held up his free hand and nodded sheepishly. “But I am still proud of my heritage.”
Kelsie giggled as the man leaned against the bar and introduced himself to her. You took this as your cue. The unspoken word to back off and let your friend take the lead. No harm done. You hadn’t begun to make the rounds yet.
“Going to the ladies’,” you leaned over and whispered to Kelsie. She gave a nod of acknowledgement as you slid off your stool.
As you made your way toward the back of the club, a handful of men caught your eye. You held your head high and winked when needed, flipping your hair off your bare shoulder.
And that’s when you saw him. He wore the jacket you’d bought him for Christmas, his ever present whiskey glass in his hand, a long legged twig of a girl attached to his hip as he chatted with a group of people.
Stopping in your tracks, you felt your hands form fists at your sides, the bile rising in your throat. Then taking a deep breath, you tried to think of the best way to get around Luke and his group in order to get to the bathroom without him seeing you.
Zig-zagging through the crowd, you just about made it to the other side of Luke’s clique when you heard your name and felt a hand around your wrist. Your automatic reaction was to turn toward him, your brain instantly cursing you for it. With your lips pursed, you scowled at him.
“You look amazing,” he said. As if you didn’t know.
“Hmph,” you grunted.
“How are you?” he asked as he stepped closer, his other hand grazing your hip. But you quickly stepped back, realizing he was trying to pull you in. Releasing your arm from his hold, you rolled your eyes. The nerve of this guy!
“As if you care.”
“What do you mean, Y/N?” he pleaded, his blue eyes giving you the look that used to make you melt. But you knew all his tricks now. “Of course I care. I’ve always cared about you.”
“Seriously?”
You were ready to slap him when the woman next to him turned around, sliding her bony hand up his arm.
“Baby, who is this?” she cooed.
“Oh, this is-”
“Nobody,” you interrupted, standing up straight. Then you turned swiftly, heading for the restrooms with determination.
Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, blurring your vision as you scrambled to get to your destination, ready to hide in a stall until your composure was contained. Suddenly, you felt a body slam into your chest, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” you heard a voice declare as two hands grabbed hold of your upper arms to steady you. “Are you okay?”
“Huh? Fuck,” you stumbled, shaking your head. Getting a clearer image of the man who ran into you, you didn’t bother to exchange niceties. “Yeah. Watch where the fuck you’re going, asshole!”
You only stayed long enough to see the shocked look on his face before running toward the ladies’ room. Slamming into the door with your palms, you found an empty stall and locked yourself inside. Taking deep breaths, you counted to ten like your therapist had taught you to do.
Motherfucking Luke! Why did he have to be here? Of all the clubs in L.A. You’d known there had been a slight chance he would be at this club. You had gone to it a couple times with him before. But he also frequented others. Why this club? Why tonight?
Inhaling a jagged breath, you shook your head. No! You were not going to let one stupid prick ruin your night just because you happened to run into him. No matter how rich or good looking he was. No matter how good in bed he was.
Ugh…you sighed as you slid down the wall. You missed it. The sex. It had been amazing, delicious. Luke could make you come like…
Shut up, Y/N!
There’s other men who could make you feel just as good, if not better. And you had already taken a gander at some prospects tonight.
Washing your hands at the sink and doing your best to touch up your face, you took another deep breath and made your way back to the club. The loud music hit you in the face as your heels clicked along the floor, setting the tone for the rest of the evening. You spotted Kelsie on the dance floor with Mr. Cuba Libra and decided it was time to find yourself someone to dance with, or at least buy you a drink. You didn’t even bother to look in Luke’s direction, and instead decided to head back to the bar.
You saw his back first, a dark maroon jacket covering his broad shoulders. But it was the curls on the nape of his neck that caught your attention, the way they whispered against his collar so delicately. And when he turned his head slightly to talk to the person next to him, you knew for certain it was the man you’d bumped into earlier.
You watched him lift a highball glass to his lips, taking a swig. The rings on his fingers made you swoon inwardly, a secret turn-on of yours. When he turned away again, you decided it was time to bite the bullet. With your tail between your legs, you sauntered up to the stranger and poked him in the back. He turned inquisitively, immediately raising his eyebrows when he noticed it was you.
“I believe…” you paused to clear your throat. “I owe you an apology.”
You watched the man’s face soften, his full lips making a perfect circle before he said, “Oh.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and called you an asshole.”
Giving a shrug, he slid off his stool and stood to face you.
“It’s alright. Sometimes I am one.”
You caught the corner of his mouth twitching before it grew into a smirk, pushing his cheek until a deep dimple appeared. Automatically, you smiled, feeling a weakness in your knees. Holy shit.
Getting your bearings, you blinked. “Anyway, just wanted to say I’m sorry. I wasn’t…feeling well.”
“I reckoned it was something like that. I saw you run for the toilets.”
Sheepishly looking down at your hands, you nodded. “Yeah. I was…in a hurry, and you ran into me. But I shouldn’t have been so rude.”
“Apology accepted,” he grinned wider, holding out his hand. “I’m Harry.”
“Y/N,” you replied, shaking his warm, ringed hand.
Then the jerk had the nerve to cover your hand with his other one as he leaned forward and looked you in the eyes. “Are you feeling better now, Y/N?”
You immediately felt like syrup was oozing down your body at the way he said your name.
“Kinda,” you teased. “But I’d feel much better with a drink.”
If you hadn’t already, the moment Harry smiled the biggest smile yet, his eyes twinkling as he guided you back to the bar, you decided you’d let him do more than buy you a drink. You’d let him try to make you come tonight.
The music was loud enough to send each pulse and vibration running through your veins. And the liquor Harry had offered you added to the sensation, making you feel weightless and on top of the world. But most of all, the feeling of his body against your back as you both swayed and grinded sent you to a hypnotic state of bliss.
“Who’s that?” you suddenly heard Harry whisper in your ear.
“Huh? Who?”
“That bloke you’ve had your eye on since we stepped onto the dance floor.”
“I don’t-” you choked, “know what you’re talking about.”
“Y/N,” Harry said, turning you around to face him. Clipping your chin with his finger, he forced you to look at him. “I’m pretty observant. You may be dancing with me but your gaze is glued to that man in the grey jacket over there. Now, either you really fancy him, or it’s someone you know.”
“I’m sorry,” you lowered your eyes, embarrassed and a little ashamed that he noticed. “It’s my ex.”
“Ah.”
“I’m not…I mean…I don’t want him back or anything. If that’s what you’re thinking. I didn’t know he was going to be here,” you confessed.
“That wasn’t what I was thinking,” said Harry. “But thanks for telling me.”
“I’m sorry I was looking over at him,” you continued, pressing your hands against his chest. You felt relief when he didn’t object. “It’s over between us…it’s just…”
“Still a little raw?” Harry finished.
“Yeah.”
“I get it. I just got over a breakup, too.”
“Really?”
“Well, it’s been a couple months, but yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” you frowned.
Harry’s mouth curved into a smile. “Stop saying that. You didn’t do anything. I was just curious.”
“Still…it was rude of me,” you returned the smile. “Here I am dancing with this incredibly attractive guy…”
“Who?” Harry playfully feigned stupidity, looking around him. When you giggled, he grinned wider, his dimples dipping in his cheeks. You blushed. “Oh, you mean me?”
“Who’s also a charmer,” you added.
“C’mere,” he instructed, pulling you against his body again, his hands sliding down your hips. “I know you don’t know me, Y/N. But I can show you a good time and make you forget about whatshisname. Even if just for one night.”
Your eyes twinkled with lust as you gazed into his green ones. You imagined kissing his full lips, his mustache tickling you, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. In a moment of excitement, you lifted your hand to touch it, your fingers grazing across his jaw.
“I’d like that. Very much,” you purred.
Slowly, Harry leaned down, and with his fingertips digging deeper into your hips, he covered your mouth with his. He tasted of whiskey, but not like Luke used to. This was sweeter, with a hint of cherries. Wanting to explore his mouth further, you slid your hands up his shoulders and fingered the wisps of hair on his neck as he allowed you access to his tongue. You swore you felt him groan as he pulled you even closer. 
While the beat still pulsed around you, you found a particular pulse of your own, racing through your veins like a newly lit fire that you’d thought had long died out. As Harry continued to seduce your mouth with his tongue, your fingertips found his chest once again where you slid your palm inside his shirt and ran it across his bare chest. The touch seemed to ignite something in Harry too, and you felt him chuckle against your lips before he pulled away, grabbing your wrists.
“You’re gonna make me strip you right here and have my way with you, baby,” he growled.
His hungry eyes told you he could very well do just that. Lifting his gaze, however, his smirk fell as he looked past you.
“Hmm, looks like the tables have turned.”
“What?” you asked.
Cocking his head, he gestured behind you. Turning slightly, you caught Luke glaring at you. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he didn’t approve of your sexy little display with Harry, or might even feel a tinge of jealousy.
Hmmph, you shrugged off the notion. Luke had never shown any sign of jealousy as long as you’d known him. Still, it made you a little excited to know he was keeping tabs on you.
“I’ll be damned,” you heard Harry chuckle. “I’d say he’s a wee bit unhappy, Y/N.”
“Serves him right,” you let the words slip.
“I’m gonna guess he was the possessive type.”
“Actually, no,” you replied. “In public he barely acted like he knew me. I’d find him flirting with every other woman in the room.”
“But he still expected you to be with him, right?” Harry asked.
“Yeah…”
“While he could do whatever he wanted.”
You furrowed your brows, finally understanding Harry’s point. “Yeah!”
“He didn’t deserve you,” Harry said, his voice low but loud enough for you to hear. “Didn’t appreciate you.”
“Probably not,” you sighed, your hips still swaying as Harry held you close.
“Definitely not,” he retorted, lifting his right hand to slide it under your ear. "Come home with me, Y/N. Make him really jealous. Make him realize what he's missing."
You snorted in disbelief as your fingertips tickled the back of his hand. “I doubt he’d even notice if I left with you.”
“I beg to differ,” said Harry. “The way his eyes are shooting daggers at me right now says otherwise.”
“I don’t like to use people, Harry,” you claimed.
He threw his head back laughing, and you could feel the vibration in his chest against your own.
“Seriously, Y/N? Isn’t that why you’re here? Why we’re all here? Regardless of whether or not your ex had shown up at this club tonight, wasn’t your intention to get back at him? To find someone to help you forget?”
“Well…yeah…kinda,” you stammered.
“And wouldn’t I just be perfect to help in that regard?”
You felt your face flush as you looked into his eyes. He was absolutely right. Your goal had been to get back at Luke tonight, if only to prove to yourself that you didn’t need him. And Harry was so sexy and willing…
“Yes,” you heard yourself say.
You followed Harry to the bar where he paid his tab, walking right past Luke and his group. Though you dared not turn your head to look at him, you could somehow feel his gaze on you.
“Ready?” Harry asked, stuffing his wallet into his pocket.
“You have no idea how ready I am,” you teased.
Harry didn’t miss your tone. He pulled you close once again, planting a wet kiss on your lips, right there for everyone, especially Luke, to see. When your mouths separated, you licked your lips seductively.
“And you have no idea how badly I want to touch you right here, right now,” Harry murmured in your ear. “Let’s go.”
As soon as Harry grabbed your hand, you heard your name being called. You turned to see Luke incredulously glaring at you.
“You can’t be serious!” he shouted.
“Excuse me?”
“This prick? You’re leaving with him?”
“What’s it to you?” you shouted back. “I don’t belong to you anymore, remember?”
“I fucked up, Y/N! I thought you were forgiving me!”
“You thought wrong!” you chuckled. Then you looked over at the woman you had assumed he was with. “Does she know you’re a cheater? Or have you been lying to her like you did to me?”
“Y/N,” you heard Harry say, tugging on your hand. “He’s not worth your time, baby.”
“Naw, see…” Luke yelled, clenching his jaw as he stepped forward. “You don’t get to call her that. She’s not yours!”
“She is tonight, mate.”
While the idea of being anyone’s possession was usually appalling, the way Harry said that made your legs weak. And the fact that he hadn’t let go of your hand yet made you feel safe.
“You fucking-”
“Luke, man!” someone called out. You watched as two of his friends held him back and told him to calm down.
“C’mon, Y/N,” whispered Harry before he pulled you through the crowd and out the front door to the valet where he stopped and looked at you. “Are you okay?”
“No, but I will be,” you replied as he pushed your hair from your face.
“I can just take you home if you’d like. We don’t have to-”
“No. I want to.”
“You sure?”
You merely nodded before grabbing his jacket and pulling him into another deep kiss. You felt him moan against your lips, reigniting the fire in your core. A black car pulled up to the curb then as you released him.
“I need to feel you tonight, Harry,” you whined. “Please.”
“Anything you want, baby,” he sighed before guiding you to his car.
You felt a little sleazy and a twinge of guilt for leaving Kelsie at the club. But when you texted her in Harry’s car, she swore she was fine and having the time of her life with her Cuban guy. She also gave both you and Harry kudos for not falling into Luke’s trap and letting a full fight break out. Though she hadn’t seen exactly what happened, she had heard a commotion and then caught the seething look on Luke’s face when she headed for the bathroom.
“Everything alright?” Harry asked when he stopped at a red light.
“Um…yeah…” You turned off your phone and looked up at him. “Just fine.”
“Good,” he grinned, gently placing his hand on your knee. “My place is just up here.”
You tried your best to not gawk at the stately home as Harry turned into the circular driveway. Shit, even Luke’s house wasn’t this extravagant. You smiled over at Harry as he killed the engine and stared at you.
“Still wanna come in?” he smirked.
“Mmhmm,” you nodded, biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together at his choice of words.
Harry chuckled low, shaking his head. You thought he was going to add to the spice that sizzled in the air, but instead he opened his car door. He was already at your side before you barely had your legs out. He helped you out of the car, sliding his arm around your waist, and he stared into your eyes as he slammed the door shut behind you.
Harry’s house was gorgeous to say the least. When you stepped into the foyer, you immediately noticed the grand staircase, a large statue and a painting above the mantel that was no doubt an original.
“Can I get you a drink?” he offered. “Scotch or a glass of wine?”
“Actually…” you blushed, “I could really go for some water. My throat feels dry.”
“No problem,” he grinned. “Kitchen’s this way.”
You followed Harry through the living room where he peeled off his jacket and laid it across the back of a chair. As he rolled up a shirt sleeve with one hand, you saw him grab a remote with the other which set the fireplace aglow. Damn!
Turning the corner into the kitchen, you watched as Harry opened what looked like a large pantry but turned out to be the refrigerator.
“Well!” you gasped, unable to hold in your amazement any longer. “Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself.”
That low chuckle that you’d already come to adore rose from his chest and dimples appeared in his cheeks as he set two bottles of sparkling water on the counter. Then he surprised you further by not only getting down two glasses from the cabinet, but then filling them with ice and pouring the water over it.
“I do alright, I reckon.”
He handed you a glass and you took a generous sip before lowering it. “So what do you do?”
“I’m in real estate.”
“Okayyyy… No surprise there,” you commented as you gestured around the area. “I suppose that’s how you scored this gorgeous mansion?”
Harry laughed, nearly spitting his water. “It’s not a mansion.”
“Yeah, it is. Fuck, you are rich if you can’t tell that.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No! Why would it? Unless…oh my God, you’re not married, are you?”
“No,” Harry snorted.
“Engaged? Separated? Newly divorced with an ex wife you owe a ton of alimony to?”
“No,” Harry laughed harder. Then he set his glass on the counter and placed his hands on your arms. “Y/N, I promise, I’m none of those things.”
“Then…how? Why?”
“Why am I still single?”
You nodded first before managing to squeak out a yes.
“Same reason you are,” he replied softly, his hands sliding up your shoulders and finding your jaw.
“What do you mean?”
“I was with the wrong person. And it took me a long time to realize.”
Harry’s words hung in the air as you tried to conjure up your own, to no avail. Instead you stared at his lips, now hydrated from the water, as his thumbs ran across your cheeks.
“Was she a cheater, too?” you finally asked.
Harry blinked his eyes softly. “Yeah.”
Who the hell would cheat on you? is what you wanted to say. Instead, you said, “Fuck them.”
“Yeah.”
Tilting his head, Harry captured your lips with his, sending a wave of desire down to your toes. Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and you hastily began to unfasten them. When you reached the waistband of his trousers, Harry tugged the hem of his shirt and removed it completely, tossing it on the floor. Then with your mouths still intertwined, he lifted you up and set you on the kitchen counter. Sliding his hands up your thighs, he grinned against your lips.
“I’ve been dying to get this fucking little dress off of you all night.”
“Yeah? How do you wanna do it?” you purred, leaning back and sticking your tits out.
“Hmm. Part of me wants to just tear it off right here,” he said, his sultry eyes burning into yours. “But the other part of me wants to take you upstairs and do it slowly. So slowly you can hardly stand it. Taking my time with you, kissing you, licking you, peeling your dress off inch by inch until you’re writhing and whimpering my name.”
“Mmm, I like the second one,” you breathed.
“Who says you get a vote, hmm?” Harry raised a brow.
“Oh.”
Your mouth remained in the O shape as Harry continued to run his hands up your legs and under your dress. You scooted closer to him on the counter, as much as you possibly could without slipping off. Harry quickly understood your intent, pushing himself between your legs, his hands finding their way to your ass where he squeezed.
“So what’s it gonna be?” you inquired, just before Harry lowered his head and kissed the exposed skin at the top of your breast. You gasped at the sudden touch, his lips moist and cool from the iced water.
Allowing Harry to take his time answering, you watched his sensual mouth caress your chest as you felt yourself get wetter and wetter. His fingertips pinched your sensitive skin on your rear until he found the waistband of your thong.
“You’re so fucking hot, Y/N,” he murmured as he pulled the elastic and made it pop against your hip. “You smell like cherry vanilla, and you taste like it too.”
You grinned at him, sliding a perfectly manicured nail down his chest and grabbing hold of his cross necklace.
“You like?”
“Mmm, yes. I wanna taste some more. But I wanna do it upstairs.”
“Lead the way, honey,” you beamed.
Seven thousand tiny nerves in your body were set afire as you took Harry’s hand and followed him up the enormous staircase. You stole tiny glimpses into each room as he led you to the end of the hall, stopping at a set of double doors that were opened to a stunning master suite.
“I’d show you the rest of the house, but I’d rather get down to business if it’s okay with you,” Harry smirked.
“Of course,” you agreed.
Stepping into the bedroom, you caught sight of the California King sized bed covered in luxurious linens. The entire room had the most intoxicating, manly aroma, like tobacco and patchouli.
“Wow, you certainly don’t scrimp,” you commented.
“I like to think I have good taste,” he said, grabbing your waist.
You chuckled as he pulled you close, goosebumps erupting all over your flesh. You ran your fingers down his chest, tracing his tattoos.
“I like these birds,” you said. “They don’t represent you and your ex do they?”
“No,” Harry shook his head. “I had these long before I ever…y’know. Met her.”
“Ah okay. Good.” And with that, you leaned forward and softly kissed each bird. When you lifted your head, Harry was grinning at you.
“I thought I was the one who was getting a taste.”
“You also said you wanted to take your time. Maybe I’m a little impatient, Harry.”
With a low, sexy laugh, Harry guided you backwards toward the bed. When your back hit the silk duvet, you watched him hover over you, the dim light creating a glow around his chestnut hair. A cluster of clunks sounded as you both kicked off your shoes. You smiled up at Harry, the excitement and anticipation both alluring.
“I am gonna take my time, darling,” he confirmed. “So slow that you’ll be begging me, your sweet pussy throbbing in agony.”
“Oh my God,” you gulped. This was going to be either torture or heaven. Maybe both.
Starting with a soft, sweet kiss, Harry let you get comfortable on the bed. The second kiss was deeper, his tongue sliding into your mouth like a warm, wet snake, eager to meet its mate. You kissed him back, one hand on his neck, the other tangling in his curls. You sighed as you felt his body relax and situate on top of yours, his legs between yours and his hands cradling your head.
You could still taste a twinge of whiskey on his tongue, and that mixed with the incredible fragrance in the room made you light headed. As Harry continued to kiss you, you felt the urge to feel him. Pushing your hips up, you could feel his erection between your legs. But when you slid your hand down his side to get a touch, Harry grabbed your wrist and pinned it down on the bed next to you. You whined in protest, but Harry only resumed his assault on your mouth.
You wondered if you’d ever been kissed this way. Luke certainly never did this. He wasn’t one to skip foreplay, but he definitely liked to move things along. And even in high school when you were still a virgin, guys never concentrated so thoroughly on the kissing part. This was…different. But also incredibly satisfying. Harry was an excellent kisser, to put it mildly.
When he seemed to be content with your lips, Harry moved on to your neck, then your shoulder. Reaching the skinny strap of your dress, he looped his fingers through and pulled it aside. You hitched a breath when he’d pulled both sides down your shoulders and kissed the tops of your breasts again. He held onto your waist as he slid his tongue across your skin. You felt yourself hike your hips up again, needing the friction.
“It zips in the back,” you heard yourself say.
“What, baby?” Harry asked, lifting his head to look at you. One strand of hair had fallen on his forehead. God, he was gorgeous.
“My dress,” you breathed. “There’s a zipper in the back.”
“I know,” he smirked.
You whimpered low, squirming underneath him. “Aren’t you…please?”
“Oh, you’re begging already? I’m not even halfway there yet, love.”
“Jesus,” you gasped.
“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”
“I need you to touch me, Harry.”
“I am touching you.”
“You know what I mean!” you cried.
Harry shook his head and tsked. “I told you I’m taking my time. We’ll get there, babe. Okay?”
You sighed through your nose. “Fine.”
“Are you gonna behave? Or do I need to punish you?” he teased.
“Fuck! Punish me, please! I need to feel you.”
“Ohh!” Harry sat back on his knees and looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “I didn’t know you were a naughty girl.”
“Well, now you do,” you said flatly.
Harry chuckled that sexy way again, making your wetness pool even more in what was left of your pitiful panties.
“I thought you wanted revenge,” Harry stated.
“Revenge for what?”
“Your ex. To prove you’re better off without him.”
“I am,” you agreed.
“Did he kiss you like that?” Harry asked.
You shook your head. “No.”
“Did you like it when I did it?”
Smiling gently, you nodded. “Very much.”
“Don’t you think you deserve to be kissed like that?”
“I…”
“What about touched like this?”
Harry continued, running his palms up your thighs until he reached the hem of your dress. You stared at him when he paused, then slid them further to your panties. You felt him glide his thumb across the center, so softly you almost whined at the lack of friction. But then he repeated the motion, pressing little by little each time.
Your breaths became faster, quickened by each press of his thumb. He didn’t remove his eyes from yours, watching you as you started to shift your hips and let out tiny moans.
“Is that where you wanted to be touched?” Harry inquired.
“Mmm, yes,” you managed to sound between breaths.
“You’re fucking soaked, baby. Perhaps I was wrong with taking my time.”
“I told you.”
The cackle that came from Harry was unexpected, but at least he now understood how ready you were.
“Here I thought I was trying to prove to you what I think you deserve, when what you really need is a good fuck.”
“God yes, please!” you cried.
When Harry chuckled a little more, you suddenly rose up onto your elbows.
“I’m sorry, that didn’t sound right,” you said.
“What do you mean?”
“It sounded selfish. I don’t mean to imply I didn’t like all the other stuff.”
“No, I get it,” Harry shook his head. “And you’re definitely not selfish.”
“No?”
“Not at all. You deserve a good fuck, too.”
You bit your lip. “So do you.”
“Yeah?” Harry crawled up your body, resuming his previous position. This time his cock was even harder, poking you in just the right place.
“Mmmhmm,” you moaned.
Sliding his hands around your waist, Harry reached for the zipper on the back of your dress and pulled it down. A loud breath escaped your throat when he finally slipped it down and over your hips.
“Fuck me!” he exclaimed with a sigh. “Look at you, you gorgeous thing.”
Before you could reply, Harry’s mouth was on your breast, sucking on your nipple. You moaned explicitly at the instant and much needed contact. When he’d given both nipples equal attention, he changed course to your belly, slithering down your body until he situated himself between your thighs.
“I think, kitten…” he cooed, grabbing hold of the sides of your thong, “that these need to go. They’re much too wet to keep wearing.”
You groaned in agreement, letting Harry remove your panties completely.
“I reckon I can help with that too,” he added, placing his palm on your inner thigh before sticking out his tongue and lapping your skin there.
Holy shit! He hadn’t even touched your clit yet and you were already about to explode.
Harry repeated the action on your other thigh before finally…finally centering himself at your pussy. He opened you gently, then so delicately pressed his tongue to your clit. You almost came unglued as he started to move it in various lines and shapes, adding a bit more pressure to each lick.
“God damn, kitten, you do taste good. So delicious.”
As he resumed his oral pleasure on you, you began to pant and moan, grabbing hold of his hair and curling your toes. Fuck, what this man could do with his mouth!
Just when you started to feel the burn in your core and thought you might go over the edge, a finger joined in on the fun, slipping past your juices with ease. You felt an extra tightness in your stomach, your legs trembling next to Harry’s head.
“Oh God! Harry! Baby! So….so good!”
You heard him hum against your pussy, his tongue flickering in the best rhythm, and a second finger slid in with the first.
“Aaaaaaahhhhh!” you cried, grabbing fists of his hair.
Your orgasm thundered through your entire body with Harry still transfixed on your pleasure. It seemed to last for ages, like you couldn’t stop.
“Harry! Oh shit!”
You finally came down after a couple more seconds, your body limp. Harry lifted his head finally, a cheeky grin on his face as he wiped away your juices from his chin. Then he crawled up the bed again to face you. When he leaned in for a kiss, you backed away.
“What…what are you doing?” you asked.
“Um…was gonna kiss you?”
“Oh.”
“Do you not like to taste yourself?”
Biting your lip, you shrugged. “Luke never liked to do that. So I got used to it.”
“Never liked to do what? Eat your pussy or kiss you after?” Harry asked.
“Kiss after. He always made me wash myself off before we kissed or…did anything else.”
Harry frowned and narrowed his eyes. “Fuck that guy. He wouldn’t do that and he was shagging other women?”
“Yeah.”
“Babe,” said Harry as he laid on his side next to you. “I think it’s time you got over him.”
“I am over him,” you declared.
“Really? Seems to me like you’re still pretty scarred from him.”
“Well, I am,” you agreed. “That’s gonna take some time. But I don’t love him anymore. He cheated on me. Do you still love your ex?”
Harry stared at you a moment before saying, “No. But I’m still a little bitter and angry, I admit.”
“Yeah,” you nodded with a scowl. “That’s what I am. I’m so fucking angry.”
“Then that’s what you need to do, Y/N. Let it all out. On me.”
You stared incredulously at Harry. Though his expression was serious, his eyes had a certain softness to them, as though he was silently willing you to let go.
“Come ‘ere,” he whispered, pulling you close against his body.
His mouth covered yours once again, a tender kiss of vulnerability, this time allowing you to take the lead. When your tongues met, you felt him sigh. You cupped his face with your hands, his scruffy jaw sending yet another spark through your veins. This man was so incredibly sexy, and he was wanting you to take advantage of the situation. Let out all of your emotions in a single roll in the hay. Who were you to resist?
“Let me help you with that,” he murmured when your fingers glided down his belly to his belt.
Rising from the bed, Harry hurriedly unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. You sheepishly examined the massive bulge in his briefs before he removed them as well, stepping out of them and returning to the bed.
“I’m all yours, baby,” he offered. “Show me what you want.”
“Harry…” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off of his beautiful physique and his long, thick cock.
“Fuuuuck.”
The dimples returned as Harry smirked with a nod, placing his arm behind his head. “That’s the idea.”
Words escaping you - not to mention air - you couldn’t decide if you wanted to take him in your mouth or straddle him. You’d never had this much control before. You watched as Harry began to stroke himself, and your mouth began to water. But your pussy began to twitch, too. Damn it.
“This is about you, babe,” Harry voiced. “But don’t take too long to decide.”
As his thumb ran over the tip of his cock, you finally made your decision. Throwing your leg over his waist, you could already feel yourself dripping.
“You wanna ride me, darling?”
“Yes,” you nodded.
“Okay, hold on. Lemme get a condom.”
When Harry retrieved the protection from the bedside drawer, you offered to put it on. Harry watched you, an easy grin on his face. Then you aimed his hard cock at our entrance, taking a deep breath before sliding down slowly.
“Oh, Jesus babe,” Harry groaned, his eyelids fluttering. “Fuck, that feels so good already.”
With a smirk of your own, you began to ride him, taking it easy at first to adjust to his size. He definitely filled you more than Luke had.
You concentrated on Harry’s face as you moved, letting your pussy wetten with each thrust. He reached for your tits, cupping them and then grabbing your nipples. You threw your head back, feeling a moan escape your throat from deep down.
“Fuck, baby,” growled Harry. “You’re a fucking dream, you know that? I can’t believe your man didn’t want this.”
With a jagged breath, you looked back at him, his gorgeous face watching you in awe. It made you feel amazing.
“How dare he cheat on you?,” Harry added. “What was he thinking? Look at you. Riding my cock, taking me so deep and so well.”
“Yeah,” you whined.
“How dare he bury his cock in someone else's pussy when he has this little kitten ready to please his every whim. His every need. You do that, don’t you baby? You like to please your man, hmm?”
“Yes. I do.”
“You like to watch him become captive of your tight, warm pussy til he can’t get enough.”
You moaned, nodding your head.
“It’s not fair, is it kitten?”
“No,” you whimpered.
“You give so much, aiming to please. Only for a man who doesn’t know how good he’s got it.”
“Harry…”
“I know, baby. Tell me how unfair it is. Tell me how angry you are.”
Furrowing your brows, you groaned and sped up the pace, riding Harry faster.
“Fuck yeah, babe. Take it all out on me. All your anger. Fuck me like you hate me.”
“I do.”
“Say it.”
“I hate you.”
The words burned your throat because although they weren’t meant for Harry, you definitely hated Luke. Harry was right. You’d given your ex everything and he hadn’t appreciated it. You let him hurt your feelings in public and then pretended it didn’t matter anymore when his dick was inside you. Fuck that. Fuck him!
As your thrusts quickened, so did your breaths. You moaned louder, though the tiny cries and whimpers were not near enough. Watching Harry as his chest and throat started to get red, his eyelids fluttering from pleasure, you wanted so badly to make him come. But your fury was taking over as well. Your head was spinning with so many thoughts, emotions and desires.
Harry squeezed your ass as he lifted you higher and bucked his hips hard. You cried out in pleasure and pain, reaching for the headboard that was too far away.
“Get up, baby,” Harry suddenly commanded, slapping your ass. “I want you on your knees.”
When you obliged, you made sure you scooted closer to the headboard this time in case you needed to hold on. You felt Harry run his hands up the back of your thighs, his rings chilling your flesh right before he reached underneath and pinched your clit. You cursed again, unable to see straight.
“I know, kitten,” he said. “You’re dripping all over me and my sheets. Do I need to make you come again?”
“Yes. Please.”
Slipping two fingers inside your pussy, Harry quickly pulled them out and put them in his mouth.
“So fucking good, baby.”
Before you could respond, Harry slapped your ass, taking you by surprise. You squealed and looked over your shoulder where he was knelt behind you with a dirty smirk. Shithead.
“Now, my kitten,” he said firmly, “I’m gonna bury my cock in that tight cunt again. And you’re gonna take it just like before. Alright?”
“Yes,” you nodded.
“Only this time I wanna hear everything. Tell me how much you hate me. How fucking good my cock feels, but you can’t stand me. I wanna hear you seething with anger. Got it?”
You nodded again, although you were unsure exactly what he meant. Surely he didn’t want you to pretend he was Luke. Perhaps he wanted you to use the anger to fuel the orgasm. 
Before you could think about it further, Harry did as he promised and slammed into your pussy over and over. The sting was so good, you nearly lost your balance, but Harry had a good grip on your waist.
“God, this ass,” he growled, slapping it again.
“Fuck you,” you cried, barely enough for Harry to hear. But he did.
“What was that, love?”
When you didn’t reply, he thrust harder. “Tell me!”
“Fuck you!”
“That’s it,” he acknowledged. “It’s so good, innit?”
“So good, Harry…I can’t…”
“Yes you can. Babe. Tell me you hate me.”
“I hate you,” you muttered.
“No, no. That won’t do,” he argued. You felt him lean forward, his stomach on our back. “I need to hear it. Louder.”
While it did feel so fucking good, your hatred was at its peak. You thought of all the shit you put up with from Luke…why did he hurt you like that? Why had he thought it was okay? What kind of fool did he think you were?
“I hate you!” you shouted, staring ahead at the headboard.
“I know you do,” said Harry, his voice even lower than usual.
Then he moaned, a deep, low, sexy moan that filled your senses. You could tell he was nearing his own climax. Your eyes began to burn as he reached for your clit again. You were so close, the orgasm sitting on the edge of the precipice. Oh God!
“Say it it again!”
With his finger on your cunt and his cock deep, the dam broke and you cried out in both pleasure and pain.
“I hate you! I fucking hate you, Luke!”
Time seemed to freeze as you glared straight ahead. Harry paused his thrusts, but his body still laid on top of yours.
“S-sorry.”
“S’okay, babe.”
“No, I- I didn’t mean to say that,” you croaked, tears spilling from your eyes.
“Hey. It’s okay. I told you to let out all your anger.”
You were silent for a bit, your body trembling as you felt his breaths on your shoulder. You wondered if he was going to move, figured he would after hearing you scream someone else’s name…even if it was tagged with hate.
“I’m…I’m really, sorry, Harry.”
“Baby. Please don’t be sorry. You released what you needed to. It’s okay.”
“O-okay…” you breathed, your throat sore.
“Do you need me to stop?”
“No,” you replied hastily. “You didn’t come yet, did you?”
“No, but it’s alright, I-”
“Harry. Don’t be silly. Keep fucking me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It…feels amazing. You’re so good.”
You felt his body rise from yours, a slight sweaty stickiness as his chest separated from your back. When he ran his hands down your hips, you heard him moan again.
“You’re amazing too, babe,” he said, breathing heavily with each thrust. “Shit, I’m so close.”
When you felt his balls hit your pussy, you reached underneath and grabbed them, earning a loud groan from Harry.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” he proclaimed.
Letting out a deep, guttural moan, Harry thrust a few more times until his body trembled and he let out long, slow breaths onto your back. Cursing again, he fell onto the bed beside you, pulling you against his chest.
Perhaps it was the memories flooding back, perhaps it was the way Harry held you with his sweaty arms that made you unable to breathe, or maybe it was because you’d fucking said your ex’s name as you came, but your eyes darted around the room, trying to decide your escape.
“I um…need to use the restroom,” you declared.
“Oh, sure babe.”
When he released you, you sped for the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. While washing up, you wondered why the hell you’d let this happen. You’d barely gotten over Luke’s hurt only for it to return again. You should have just stayed home tonight.
When you opened the door, Harry was still lying on the bed, naked, his head propped in his hand. Damn it.
“I should go,” you said, grabbing your discarded dress and panties from the floor.
“Why?”
“It’s late.”
“You can stay if you like.”
“No, I…should get home,” you declined.
“Oh. Well, let me get dressed and I’ll drive you,” Harry offered as he rose from the bed.
“Please. It’s fine. I’ll order an Uber.”
“Y/N, that’s ridiculous,” argued Harry. “I can take you.”
He slipped back into his pants, forgoing the briefs, but you were already at the door.
“It’s okay, really,” you insisted, pausing at the top of the stairs. “I just…I’m embarrassed, Harry. I’d really just like to be alone. I hope you understand.”
Making it to the living room where you’d left your bag, you noticed Harry had followed you. You quickly ordered an Uber on the app. When you turned, Harry wore a deep frown.
“Please don’t be embarrassed, Y/N. That was never my intention.”
“I know,” you confirmed, placing a hand on his chest for reassurance. Then you handed him your phone. “Here. Put your number in.”
Harry did as you asked, and when he handed it back, your fingers brushed.
“There, now you have mine,” you gave a tight smile after sending his number a text. When your phone pinged, you jumped. “Oh! There must have been a driver nearby. Goodnight, Harry.”
“It’s here already?”
“Just down the road. I’ll wait outside.”
“Babe,” he sighed.
You gave him a quick kiss, then a second.
“You’re lovely,” you whispered before leaving him standing in the middle of his luxurious living room.
If it had been a cab, you might have cried the whole way home. But seeing as it was an Uber and you were just sitting in the back of some guy’s car, you held the tears in. Stumbling up the stairs as if you were drunk, you tossed your bag on your nightstand and stepped out of your shoes. You’d just pulled on an oversized tee to sleep in when your phone rang in your purse. Seeing Harry’s number shouldn’t have startled you, but it did.
“Just wanted to make sure you got home okay,” he said when you answered.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Good. I know you wanna be alone, but I just wanted to say I um…I had a really good time with you, Y/N.”
“Me too.”
“I’m sorry I embarrassed you, love. I really am. I was hoping we could both just-”
“Harry,” you interrupted. “It’s okay. You didn’t embarrass me. I did it to myself.”
After a long sigh, Harry spoke again. “Um…listen, if you ever wanna do this again….if you need to get your anger out or you’re stressed or…” he paused with a sigh, “just wanna talk. Whatever…give me a ring.”
“Of course.”
“Take care, Y/N.”
“Harry…”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“I know.”
“That was just…”
“I know, baby.”
You gave a soft hum of contentment. “Okay then. Goodnight, Harry.”
“Goodnight, kitten.
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*dramatic music* What did you think?? Do we need more them? Don't be shy, leave all the comments you want :).
tagging: @kathb59 since you asked :)
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h2llish · 7 months
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【╰ヾ❝ COULD'VE BEEN ✧„
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VIL SCHOENHEIT ── when it could've been ☆ angst, heartbreak, requited feelings, gender neutral, lowercase intended, not proofread
inspired by my fic from me to you
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he remembered the moment you came to him, with a smile so sad and ready to be rejected as you gave him a envelope with your handwriting at the top, for vil. with it, a rose wrapped safely in ribbon. by the look on your face and the shyness in your tone as you gave it to him, he could guess what was in the letter tucked inside the envelope must've been important, at least to you. you didn't bother to wait for him to open and read it, you didn't seem to want a response if he did, only apologizing and thanking him before turning away.
rook was with him, with a knowing look that looked a little sad in similar to your smile. he questioned it, but rook brushed him off in rook fashion, telling him it wasn't his place to speak on your behalf. what did he know that vil didn't? the actor wondered silently but trusted his friend despite his question and worry for you.
so vil tucked the letter away and waited till he was alone in his room. as the day ended and he finished his night routine, he sat comfortably on his bed and grabbed the letter.
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dear vil,
i've written this letter six times now, and i know that if i continue to read over this, i'll never gather the courage to give it to you. so please excuse how messy it is, and the mistakes you may possibly find.
by the time you get this, i'll be ready to leave for my world. ortho found me a way home, and i wish to return there, even though i'll miss a lot of people here. i'll miss you the most. i'm sorry you had to find out through a letter, a lot of my friends remained unaware, but when you get this, they'll all know just like you.
perhaps you've caught on, but rook was one of the few who knew, he also knew you were going to receive this letter. but, if you are upset at all, please don't be upset with him. i asked him to keep things to himself, he wasn't even meant to know. he was just respecting my wishes.
to the reason of my letter, this is where it might get messy, i hope you understand.
vil, i think you're wonderful, amazing even. while i know how we started off may not have been the most eventful or greatest, you've been respectful. even after you overblot, and forgive me for bringing it up, you've been nothing but kind to me and i thank you. when you offered your own money to ramshackle and then helped rebuild it when it was damaged, i was incredibly grateful.
you work hard, and you care about your dorm. not everyone may see it, but i do vil. you've done your research, have gotten to know everything about your dormmates, and made diets and routines just for them. it shows you really care.
we've gotten close. i care about you, and i think you care about me. we're friends.
but i'll be honest with you, my feelings for you have become more. i'm falling in love with you. i understand if you don't feel the same, i'd feel better if you don't, knowing my feelings were unrequited so i can leave with the guilt of only leaving my friends.
i'll probably be gone by now, and if not, i ask that you don't approach me. i wouldn't be able to keep myself together if you do. i want to go home, nothing will stop me from doing that. i'm sorry we can't have a proper goodbye, but for my own reasons, selfish i understand, i can't face you so this will have to do.
goodbye vil. and thank you for being my friend.
perhaps things could've been different.
sincerely, your friend, [name].
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romantic feelings were new for the actor, you were the first person he'd felt anything for. he loved you; he realized as he sat there, hair pulled back neatly and mask on his face. he pinched the end of the letter in his feelings, relaxing when he worried he would tear it.
he respected your wishes in the letter, remaining in his room as he read over the words once more. although it was heavy on his shoulders, he knew even if he had left to confess his requited feelings, your decision would have never changed.
perhaps things could've been different, but you'd always choose your home, and he could not blame you.
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patting myself on the back for managing to write something even if it's short. my headaches chilled out again and i took advantage.
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do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai
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mrcavill88 · 1 year
Text
Inner demons
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male Reader
Summary: There’s something so dark and attractive about a man who could kill you in a heartbeat. Even though Bucky’s twisted mind is healed, remnants of the winter soldier are still there. You and him have been through hell and back together, but his recents outbursts of anger are really starting to fumble your relationship
Word count: 2.9k+
Warnings: 18+, age gap (reader is 18, Bucky is 102 XD) abusive Bucky, alcohol addiction, face slapping, yelling, begging, bondage, whipping, daddy kink, skin sucking/kissing/licking, nipple play, genital licking, fingering, crying, vibrator usage, unprotected sex, breeding, fluff
A/N: Hey everyone! I’m back with another fic: my very first Bucky fic. This is one is definitely, interesting, to say the least. Thank you all again for all the support you have shown me, hope you enjoy;)
Bucky Barnes
The man of the hour, the one true love of your life, someone who made you feel stable - did I mention an ex-assassin with over two dozen credited murders?
You never were 100% sure about being safe around him. Sure, he was... insanely attractive. His soft and short brown hair, the dark blue sapphires he had for eyes, pearly white teeth, chiseled and muscular body, and his deep voice; his mere presence was enough for butterflies to flutter around your tummy. But Bucky's dark history was always a thinking point for you.
"What if he goes crazy and tries to kill me?"
"What if he goes on another rampage and starts murdering everyone?"
"What if he doesn't love me?"
Your intrusive thoughts never got the best of you, but a single thought of Bucky's past made you quiver in fear.
But your relationship with him wasn't exactly, perfect. He might be free of his control from Hydra, but, he isn't exactly free from his new demons
Alcohol
His loneliness after Steve's death was apparent as he turned to heavy drinking to aid his sorrows. That's when you came in, you were initially there to help Bucky through his journey of rehab, were you successful? Fuck. no.
Every time you encountered him, instead of discussing his progress, you and he did the most lewd things together. He was completely taken aback by your beautiful and slim figure, he didn't need rehab, he needed you.
As of now, you lived with Bucky. You were both pretty set on spending your lives together, and you were both happy. Currently, he was out with Sam, you knew that Sam was the only other person Bucky was close with, he trusted him, and so did you. You laid in bed, waiting for Bucky to come home, hoping you guys could have some dinner together, maybe have some fun.
You heard a car pull into the driveway; you ran to the door, waiting to greet the love of your life. The door burst open, and there he was, running towards you.
"Y/N! I missed you so much baby, give me a kiss!" he said, hugging you, connecting his lips onto yours. The things you felt when you were in an intimate setting with him, they were surreal. You really loved him, but something wasn't right, you could tell something was off.
And then it hit you
The strong and unpleasant scent of alcohol. You pushed the man off of you, an acerbic look painted on your face as you looked him dead in the eye.
"Baby? W-why are you l-looking at me like that? W-what's wrong?"
You could tell that he was a little tipsy, if the smell wasn't enough, the slurring of his words definitely was. "Bucky, please be honest with me. Were you drinking?" you asked, squeezing his hands.
"Y/N! You know I'm sober! How could y-you doubt me?" his hands cupping your cheeks, his face getting redder and redder. "Baby, please believe me! I know I have a bad history with drinking but, please, I'm being honest."
"James! Don't lie to me! I love you too much for you to lie to me like this! How could you! I thought you were a new man!" you yelled, slapping his face. "Ok. You caught me, I'm so sorry Y/N. Sam just said it was one beer, but it ended up being several. Please forgive me! I promise, this won't happen again! Please, Y/N?" he pleaded, holding your waist.
The single tear that formulated on your cheek dried as you contemplated what you were going to do with Bucky. Was he really going to stop? Or was this another white lie that he told? You decided to give it one last chance, hoping the decision was right.
"Fine. I'm putting my trust in you Buck, please, just think about what this could do to you! It's going to kill you! Please just promise me that you'll stop, ok?" holding your pinky out. "I promise, baby. Thank you so much for believing in me" he said, latching his pinky onto yours, giving you a small kiss on the cheek. "Now, let's enjoy ourselves! The night is still young Y/N! I brought some takeout from that Mediterranean restaurant across town, I know you it's your favorite" he said, bringing you over to the polished dining table, adorned with the most appetizing food you've ever seen.
But one little nuisance on the table was there, a needle in a haystack, if you will. A tall bottle of whiskey. "Bucky, are you serious?"
"Baby. I know I promised I'd stop, but please! Just this once, I swear, this is the last one. C'mon, I know you like this brand. Don't try to deny it"
You hesitantly sat down, opening the bottle of whiskey. You knew Bucky would have some trick of his sleeve, so what did he do? He fished in one last drink, and it just so happened to be your favorite kind.
You two enjoyed your supper. You guys' just had a special bond, every time you were in each other's presence, you just felt, complete. Any thought of Bucky's past actions were completely eradicated as the expensive whiskey started hindering your brain.
Next thing you know, it was already 9 pm. Bucky was completely OUT, his pants undone and his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tried to stand up.
"Y-Y-Y/N, w-we haven't h-had some f-fun in a w-while. L-lets m-make the most of o-our night," he slurred out, bringing you to the couch as he gripped your right thigh. "G-get off o-of me, I k-knew you c-couldn't k-keep from d-drinking" you said, barely being able to connect your words together.
The cold air thickened as tension started to build between you two, both completely drunk. "H-how dare y-you speak to m-me like that! You l-little brat!" he yelled, slapping your face hard. The tension in the room completely skyrocketed as the man you loved, the man you trusted, struck your face.
"B-Bucky? W-what's gotten into you?" you sniffled, holding your face. "W-w-what's gotten into me? What a-a-about you! You spoiled l-l-little ingrate! You n-need to be taught a lesson! You need thicker s-skin, Y/N" he slurred out, dragging you to the basement.
The countless kicks and screams you let out were completely useless as the 6 foot man effortlessly powered through your resistance. He slammed you onto a stool and tied your arms above your head, leaving you helpless.
"T-that's better baby! You s-see, I'm much older than you. I had it w-way harder than you when I was your age! I'm only doing this because I love you, trust me, Y/N" he said, pulling out a long, matte black whip.
The sound of screams, cries, and begs filled the room as the absolute terror you felt completely consumed your body.
"P-please Bucky! I'm begging you! Please don't hurt me! I love you! Don't you love me?"
"Oh Y/N, you're so adorable, I-I'm doing this for your own good, I'm sorry little one"
The final words he said before he maliciously whipped your torso, the loud crack breaking the seemingly forever silence that formulated between the two of you.
The screams coming out of your mouth intensified as the everlasting sting coursed through your veins, tears falling from your eyes as the man you trusted, just whipped you.
"Oh baby! That's what I like to hear! But, I think we could have more fun! Don't ya think?" he said before he grabbed a pair of red scissors and started cutting up your clothes.
You winced as your body was slowly being exposed in front of the man, as if it hadn't happened before. But this was a new side of Bucky you've never seen before, much more, possessive
He rubbed your baby soft skin, the sight of your delicate and skinny posture truly astonished him. The only thing you had on was a tight little spandex, your cock hard from Bucky's presence alone.
"Y-you're mine now, understand?" he said, practically inches away from your face. You jerked a nod before the whip cracked against your body again, a gush of blood spewing from your body. You screamed mercilessly as the immense pain you felt was practically permanent.
"Bucky! Please stop! I-I can't take it anymore!" you begged, a raspy breath leaving your mouth as you felt the air suddenly get hot.
Turns out, it wasn't the temperature, it was Bucky
He took his jacket off, revealing his rippling muscles and toned body, laced by his tight black tank top.
"Oh baby, I almost forgot. Don't ever call me Bucky, again. I'm your daddy now, your master, are we clear?" grabbing your face tightly.
"Y-yes, daddy" you whimpered out, absolutely terrified yet turned on by Bucky's sudden dominance.
"Good boy! Oh Y/N. I'm so p-proud of you. You see? It's not so hard to behave, right? Now, here's your reward for being so good"
Mere milliseconds after his words, his lips latched onto your neck. Sucking the absolute life out of it; moans and whines escaped your mouth, your libido level skyrocketing as the sound of skin against skin filled the room.
"Oh baby! I love tasting you! You're gonna feel so good when you're with daddy tonight, just wait and see"
His mouth continued attacking your neck, his lips traveling down your body onto your shoulders, biting and sucking on your skin, marking what was his. The angelic moans that left your mouth were like music to his ears, something that caused him to go even harder than he intended on.
His fingers caressed your nipples, goosebumps forming around them as Bucky relentlessly stimulated them.
"Daddy! Ugh! That f-feels so g-good!" you moaned as Bucky continued pinching and rubbing your nipples.
With no hesitation, he latched his lips onto your nipple, sucking on it with much determination and lust. The pleasure you felt was unreal; the tingles reaching the tips of your toes, making your cock twitch and harden as he continued sucking your nipples.
When he let out, your nipples were puffy and decorated with saliva, your breaths heavy and constant from all the pleasure you were feeling.
"Oh my sweet baby, Y/N. I love seeing you all horny and vulnerable like this. You make me want to do horrific things to you. But the night is young, I'm not finished with you" he said, viciously licking your neck.
His head was now face to face with your hole, your butt perfectly propped up so he was practically in breathing range of it. He kissed your inner thigh, prepping you for what was about to come next. The moans that left your mouth fueling the lewd activities he was about to commit.
His tongue started flailing in and out of your hole, swirling at a rapid pace. Your toes started to curl as you quickly became a sex doll for Bucky. "Daddy! Oh Fuck! Daddy I-I'm gonna c-cum!" you whined as he continued licking and playing at your sensitive hole.
"Baby! C'mon now, don't disappoint daddy like that! I know you're stronger than that, come on now, let me make you feel good"
You whimpered in response as your hole became drenched in Bucky's saliva, acting as a lubricant as he slowly inserted his thick fingers into your hole.
You screamed at the immense discomfort you felt, you've never been this intimate with Bucky ever in your life. "Does that feel good baby? You like when daddy shoves his fingers in your tiny little hole?"
All this dirty talk was making you queasy, your head practically spinning in circles as Bucky continued using your hole as a domain for his sexual pleasures. "I-I-I'm g-gonna cum!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, cock ready to burst at any moment.
"Oh no you don't" he whispered, gripping your tiny little pre-cum covered cock tightly.
"I know you're a good boy baby. Show daddy how good of a boy you can be! C'mon baby I know you can be a good boy. My good boy"
You snapped
Your cock jerked uncontrollably, drooling with ropes of white, thick cum. Your face turned red as you met Bucky's slightly disappointed face.
"Baby, I really hoped you could pull through for daddy. But it's ok! Daddy has a few tricks left for you"
"No daddy please! I can't take it anymore! I'm gonna... explode!" you pleaded, struggling to break out of your bonds.
"That's not how it works. I am your master, your daddy, you are my boy. You listen to me, absolutely no questions asked baby. Now, daddy has a new little toy here that he would love to try on you" he cackled, pulling out a pink vibrator.
Tears stained your cheeks as you knew what was about to come, you knew that you had no other choice but to comply, so why not enjoy it?
He attached the vibrator on your cute little cock and turned it on. You screamed as the vibrator tickled and pushed against your prostate, cum leaking from the tip of your cock.
"Daddy! Please take this o-off! I-I'm s-so horny!!!" you moaned as your bottom half twitched and shook from the absolute pleasure you felt.
Bucky noticed the state of mind you were in, somewhat amused by how fragile you were. And with the little bits of remorse still in him, he yanked the vibrator off your body, your cock worn out and drenched in pre-cum. You were a moaning, panting mess, cum disseminated over the floor.
"Oh baby~ You turn me on so much you don't even know. Such a sweet boy like you acting like this, this'll just be our little secret. Now, daddy has one last present for you, I promise, it's worth it" he said, slyly, before unzipping his pants. The big dick print in his boxers was making you so hard, oh you were so in love with him.
And then, oh!
A large piece of man meat sprang from his underwear as he pulled it down. The sheer size of it amazed you as he walked toward you.
"I want this to be a night for the books baby, let's make this special"
"Fuck me daddy!" you moaned before he slammed his monstrous dick into your tight hole. His thrusts: strong and firm.
"Oh fuck baby! I love how your little hole hugs my cock! You belong to me! No one else!" he yelled, a mixture of moans and whines filling the room as you both became infatuated with pleasure.
He starts to develop a fast and consistent rhythm with his thrusts, your moans getting louder and more high-pitched, making him even more turned on.
"Oh yeah! You love when daddy's big cock fucks your hole don't you! You naughty boy! You bussy is so greedy for daddy's cock isn't it" he growled, getting a broken and long moan in response.
Your body temperature started to climb higher and higher as the man you loved dearly continued fucking the daylight out of you. What you didn't realize? The fact that the ropes that put you in this very position broke in the midst of all the sexual pleasure you were feeling.
You didn't know how much longer you could handle this. Your bussy was practically broken after enduring all of Bucky's abuse, but the pleasure you felt continued to escalate by the second.
That's when, it happened again
Bucky's cock penetrated the most sacred and sensitive part of your entire body, your cock exploding with cum as your body twitched and quivered at the pleasure that basically consumed your entire body at this point.
"That's my boy! Oh y-you're daddy is close you're doing so well. Fuck!" he groaned as you could feel his thrusts growing sloppier.
You took notice of this and decided to give Bucky a taste of his own medicine: you pinched and twisted your nipples, causing your hole to tighten around Bucky's cock, making the man grow weak as his cock was being stimulated like no other before him.
"Oh shit! You naughty little bitch! Oh baby! I-I'm g-gonna cum!" he slurred out before unleashing his load inside your hole, strings of his white sticky cum polishing your insides an ivory color. You collapsed from the chair, your legs were practically immobile after all the pleasure and abuse you endured tonight.
Bucky crawled toward your destroyed figure, hugging you tightly and nuzzling your nose against his.
He carried you, bridal style, up from the basement into the bedroom you shared together.
"Now baby, let's get washed up, alright? We need to be perfectly clean before we sleep" he uttered, walking you over to the shower.
Despite the immense sexual activities that occurred that night, the shower you two had was one that was completely ingenuous.
You two shared a few loving, intimate moments, but nothing that was extreme. You were glad to have Bucky back. The old Bucky back. Sure, you loved the sex god that just fucked the shit out of you a couple minutes ago, but the little moments you have with him: you cherished forever.
You both got dried up and cuddled up on the bed together. "I'm so proud of you baby, we pulled off wonders tonight. I love you, Y/N" he said, kissing your forehead.
"I love you too, daddy" nuzzling your head against his chest.
You went to sleep madly in love with the man, and James Buchanan Barnes definitely loves you too~
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jenosbliss · 9 months
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hii there!! can i req different tropes with the dreamies please?
🩶⌇ nct dream ! as different love tropes
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pairing. gn!reader x nctdream | genre. fluff | wc. 1.5k | warnings. none
a/n. happy new year guys!! went a little personal on Jaemin's one, also if you want a bigger fic for any of the members with these tropes pls let me know 💖
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MARK. childhood friends to lovers
Mark was the constant in your life just as you were in his. He was the one to pull you in when you experienced your first heartbreak or needed a shoulder to weep on, to rely on, to seek warmth and comfort in. He was the one to cheer you on for exams, to celebrate your achievements and your first relationship. He had been there all along. Hence, when he unexpectedly blurted out, "Do you think we would make a good couple?" while snuggling inside the cover with you one quiet night. You weren't too shocked by it because, in all honesty, you both knew—hell, everyone knew—that you loved one another more than simply as friends. In fact, your friends called you both ‘goners.’ “Is this your subtle way of asking me out?” he giggled trying to hide his oh not so obvious blush. “I mean like you know what I mean c’mon dude… will you be my girlfriend?” "Have I ever said no to you?" you drew nearer to him beneath the cover. “Sure.”
RENJUN. secret admirer
It started recently when small notes began to appear inside your locker and on your desk. At first you ignored them thinking it was some sort of a sick prank because who in their right mind will secretly admire you? Well, Renjun does, and ever since the day he saw you having your own little concert in the classroom after everyone had left, he has never been as certain about someone as he was about you. At first he left notes on a weekly basis afraid you might not like them but when he saw you smiling and saving all his notes he started leaving a dozen of them on a daily basis. He was going crazy because he had so much he wanted to tell you, but there was not enough room on a piece of paper. However, you were driving yourself crazy trying to identify this admirer of yours. This madness continued for a month until one day Renjun himself stood in front of your locker holding a piece of paper, "Here's your note, love.”
JENO. fake dating
You didn’t consider Jeno a total stranger, you have run into him quite a handful of times in the campus cafe and have your fair share of shy glances, very small talks and fleeting smiles. One day your ex followed you to the cafe, at first, he was begging for forgiveness but soon turned hostile, demanding a reason why you don’t want to be with him. Fearing he might do something bad; your eyes fell upon Jeno who just entered the cafe, a sweet smile playing on his lips when he noticed you. Could you have come up with a better response? Maybe but at that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. You approached him begging “Hi, I’m really sorry to put you in this mess but can you please, please pretend to be my boyfriend? My ex there-” at an instant Jeno stood up, grabbing your hand softly in his “Where is that jerk? Did he hurt you?” And with this incident you both started fake dating which soon turned real without either of you realizing.
HAECHAN. sunshine x grumpy
Everyone around you referred to you and Haechan as the opposite attracts couple, well to be very honest you didn’t consider yourself grumpy or mean, you just didn’t prefer the human race and any interaction with them of course except him. He was the literal definition of sunshine for you, the one who lightened you up, the one with whom you can leave your so-called grumpy side aside and be a little ray of his sunshine. Haechan found you in the darkest phase of your life when everyone you knew or had trusted turned their back on you, leaving you to cry alone in a dark corner. It was then when he pulled you into his embrace, radiating a warmth that felt safe and something like home, he became that last ray of hope and light that brightened you up once again. “How can you be this happy this early in the morning?” you grumbled seeing him dance while cooking in the kitchen. Ignoring your comment, he walked around the counter and extended his hand “Will you dance with me? Please, sunshine please!” rolling your eyes at his silly actions you still took his hand as he pulled you in for a little silly dance.
JAEMIN. first love
Love was a scary word for you, the reason you never experienced it before was because you wanted it to be perfect. You wanted to remember your first love with a smile on your face and not an experience which you would want to forget. You have had crushes and a few situationships and an experience of a boy you thought was definitely the one to not reciprocate your feelings when you confessed to him before. But that was it, after the last incident years ago you gave up on the idea of love, thinking it was for the pinterest girlies, those perfect ones who deserved a perfect love. But the day Jaemin came to you on that bus ride asking if can take the empty seat next to yours, the perception of love you had changed. He became your first and perfect love, he showed you everyone is worthy of love, he accepted all your flaws, he cared for you like no one has ever done –babying you included– he never shied away from confessing his love and gratitude for you, he cherished you with every breath he took. You could cry to him, with him, you could laugh with him until your stomach hurts, you could gossip with him, and you could cherish the quietness with him. He was perfect and he was yours, your first love. “OMG y/n I saw this flower growing out of the sidewalk, it reminded me of you princess.”
CHENLE. academic rivals
Chenle didn’t give a shit about studies or grades, if you ask his parents or friends, they haven’t seen so many ‘A+’ on his tests till now. It’s not like he was poor in his studies, it's just that he didn't have a reason to study. Why study if he could just get a scholarship through basketball? It was useless according to him until he met you in high school, the top student in the class if not the school. Was it love at first sight? Nah it was love at first fight for him when he accidentally hit you with the basketball during gym class and you poured a bottle of water on him as revenge (it was freezing cold that day). After that, the more he tried to approach you the more you avoided him. It was the first time when he wanted something, but he couldn't have it right away, and this ignited a fire in him. So, the only way to reach you now was through academics, and boy, he loved pushing your buttons, so he decided to compete with you… fiercely and that’s how after a few months of this rivalry you found yourself pinned against the bookshelf by him in a corner of the library. “Everything is just a competition for you… isn’t it?” you felt his breath on your face “Isn’t it for you, too?” you spat back, not breaking eye contact. “No, I did this because I am in fucking love with you.”
JISUNG. brother's best friend
You met Jisung when you were five and he was seven, he brought Sungchan back home after he sprained his ankle during the game of soccer. You remember watching him from afar, while he was talking to your mother about Sungchan’s injury when he looked at you and passed a smile. Since then, not a day passes by when you don’t think of him. At seven you had childishly asked him to marry you which he laughed at first but agreed later, promising to do so when you grow older. At fifteen he scared off a boy who kissed you on the cheek in school, saying things like you are too young for dating and you can’t date just any boy. That day, instead of crying that your first relationship ended before it could even start, you were happy, it was the day you started liking Jisung. At seventeen you confessed your feelings to him when he said the words that broke your small, fragile heart in pieces, he said you were like a little sister to him. At twenty-two he saw you going out with a man when he arrived at your apartment to celebrate your birthday. He felt something he shouldn’t have, he felt jealous, a burning rage and it was that moment that he knew he had fallen head over heels for you. “Don’t date him.” you scoffed hearing his authoritative tone. “And who are you to say that? I’m not fifteen anymore. It’s my life I can date whoever I want… you’re not my real brother.” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him “Yes I’m not your brother… so date me instead.”
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navigation.
masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv
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augustjustice · 4 months
Text
you wanna feel how it feels? (let's exchange the experience), 1/?
AO3 Link
Summary: After the Spring Break from hell, Eddie and Steve become fast friends, with a possible hint towards something more…except they're never quite sure what the other one is actually thinking. But maybe, just maybe, walking a mile in each other's shoes can lend them some much needed insight.
Notes: The long awaited first chapter of bodyswap fic is finally, finally here! This chapter is primarily just set up for the shenanigans yet to come.
I went ahead and added a taglist below for some of the folks who have been following along with the progress of this one. Apologies if I missed anyone, and if you'd like to be added to or removed from the list, please just let me know!
It was a typical Saturday night in late April–at least, typical post-the radical turn of events that had started with Eddie’s own personal nightmare during the Spring Break from hell, that series of dominoes tipping over and taking his life up to where it was now. And where he found himself was at Hawkins’ very own local Dairy Queen with Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and a rabid pack of six hungry teenagers and one formidable preteen who could rule them all with an iron fist if she wanted, following up yet another successful session of Hellfire with some celebratory ice cream. 
Being able to hold a meeting of the Hellfire Club at all was cause for celebration in Eddie’s book, especially since the school would no longer allow them to host events on school grounds, despite the fact that all the charges against Eddie that had started the witch hunt in the first place had been dropped. Hawkins wasn’t exactly a forgive-and-forget kind of town, something Eddie had always known and been even more acutely aware of given the even more frequent, vitriolic stares that had been following him around since March. 
Still, he was soldiering on for now, at least until graduation–thanks in no small part to the apocalypse stopping crew currently clamoring over each other at the front counter. Despite the school’s best efforts, the club venue had been relocated to the Munsons’ newly minted trailer, courtesy of the government suits. And with the revival of their D&D campaign came the start of this new tradition–begun by none other than Steve himself, who had pulled up to Forest Hills to pick up the kiddos that first night, stuck his floppy-haired head out of his BMW like an overgrown puppy, and offered to meet everyone at the local DQ, his treat. The Corroded Coffin boys had begged off coming that first time–and the week after that, and the week after that–but, still. Standing under the hazy fast food fluorescent lights and with the promise of a chocolate malt ahead, life–for the moment, at least–was as good as Eddie could ask for, all things considered. 
“Hey, hey, hey!” With three quick snaps of his fingers, Steve tried to corral the kids into some semblance of order, one hand already settled in its customary position on his hip. “One at a time, you guys. Try to cut, ah…”
“Brandi,” the brunette behind the counter supplied helpfully when she saw Steve squinting at her name tag, face blooming into a bright grin. 
Eddie was pretty sure he recognized her from his second senior year math class, and there was a vague memory of seeing someone who sort of looked like her in the cafeteria tickling at the back of his mind, sitting a few tables from the jock zone amongst the lucky hopefuls looking to catch the attention of a baseball or basketball playing potential boyfriend. If so, that definitely explained the big moon eyes she was currently shooting Steve’s way. 
But Steve only returned her smile with a harried one of his own, his attention still firmly focused on the demands of his many babysitting charges. Eddie tried to tamp down the sick twist of satisfaction he felt when Brandi deflated slightly. 
“Right. Try to cut Brandi here some slack, alright? Believe me, slinging ice cream is plenty of work without having a bunch of little menaces shouting in your ear.”
As the group finally managed to file themselves into something that resembled a line–with plenty of jostling and grumbling along the way–Erica gave Steve’s polo a sharp tug and then jabbed two fingers in his direction.
“Free ice cream. For life,” she emphasized, the same way she did every week, like Steve needed the reminder. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved a dismissive hand in her direction even as he pulled out his wallet, same as he did week in and week out, putting on a show like he didn’t already know he’d be footing the bill for most of the munchkins’ orders. 
Robin had explained the situation to Eddie when he’d asked after their first DQ outing, with the same airy tone they all often used to describe the truly mind-boggling shit they had been through over the last few years. 
“Oh! It’s a leftover debt, from when we infiltrated the secret Russian base under Starcourt. Free ice cream was Erica’s price for getting involved. Never underestimate her ability to drive a hard bargain.”
Eddie had nodded, trying not to let how gobsmacked he felt about the entire story show. “Yeah, I, uh…wasn’t planning to. Lady Applejack is a force to be reckoned with.”
“You have no idea,” Robin had agreed, looking almost strangely…proud about the fact. 
That evening, when Eddie sidled up to join them, leaving Robin in position to guard the three booths sequestered off towards the back they had claimed as their own, he caught the tail end of the sheepies excitedly recounting tonight’s session for Steve. 
“And D20 is…good, right?” Steve asked, still watching the register as Brandi passed a vanilla cone with a hefty serving of whipped cream and sprinkles off to El. 
“Yes, Steve, it’s only the best roll you can possibly make in the entire game.” 
The no duh tone of Dustin’s voice was enough to have Steve raising an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed. 
“Like sinking the winning shot after the final buzzer at the championship game kinda good,” Lucas explained, much more helpfully, his grin wide.
“Oh,” Steve nodded, and Eddie couldn't help but get distracted by the way his lips, pink and shining with a hint of chapstick, parted perfectly in understanding.
Eddie seized the opportunity to catch Steve off guard, hooking an arm around his shoulders and tugging him into his side. Delight bubbled in his chest at the way the gesture made Steve let out a loud, startled laugh.
“Should've figured that's all it'd take to rope you into playing sometime, Harrington,” Eddie shook his head solemnly. “Sports metaphors.”
“Always with the sports metaphors,” Dustin echoed. 
Steve reached out and swatted the brim of his cap, the force of it just enough to send it slightly askew and trigger a string of cursing from Dustin.
“Hey, I never agreed to that,” he argued, ducking out from under Eddie’s arm in one seamless motion. Jock reflexes, Eddie had decided, were both a blessing and a curse. 
He had learned that lesson firsthand in the past few weeks, as Eddie had grown more and more comfortable indulging in a little light rough housing with Steve, despite the fact that he knew there was no way in hell he had any better shot than their gangly freshmen did at not getting his ass handed to him. Eddie was stronger than he looked, sure, but he wasn’t exactly former basketball captain level athletic, not by a long shot. 
But was it really losing when he got to be pressed up against the firm planes of Steve’s chest, wrapped up in his strong arms–even if it was in a death lock grip–or occasionally pinned to Eddie’s own bedroom floor by him? Eddie definitely didn’t think so, and part of him was also just happy his recovery was going well enough he could scuffle, again. On his good days, at least. Doing it with his hot friend–and crush–was just an added bonus. 
“You know, it’s not my fault Lucas knows how to explain shit to me. I’ll stop talking in basketball when one of you two nerds actually manages to tell me what Mordor is.”
Dustin let out a huff. “If you just read the books–”
Steve cupped a hand around his ear, leaning down towards Dustin and hamming it up for all he was worth. “Huh? What was that? Cuz it didn’t sound like much of an explanation to me, Henderson.”
Eddie tugged a strand of hair across his mouth, trying to hide his grin. “Harrington, trust me when I say–you do not want to open that can of worms. Do you have any idea how long I can go on for once I get started? Hours, man. Days, probably.”
“Can’t be any worse than that time Robin tried to explain, uh…shit, what was it called? German New Wave? Or, no, maybe that was French Expressionism. I don’t know, the point is, it can’t be more boring than that was.”
“It's French New Wave!” Robin called from the back despite the distance, freakily intune with Steve as always. “Or German Expressionism. And sounds like you're due another lesson, Stevie-Evie. Don't worry, I've got a tried and true method to guarantee it all sticks this time.”
Steve groaned, dragging a hand over his face and into his hair–but his apparent grief at the thought of another Buckley-led film history lesson was quickly diverted when he realized it was his turn. 
From there, placing the rest of their orders passed by with little fanfare–apart from the brief, minor hiccup that came when Steve tried to pay for Eddie’s treat on top of everybody else’s. 
“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie waved a finger at him, just barely managing to step around Steve and hand his fistful of dollars over to Brandi. “Your money’s no good here, my liege.”
The title was enough to produce a patent Harrington scowl, all drawn eyebrows and pouted lips. 
When he opened his mouth to protest, Eddie cut him off again. “Seriously, Steve, I’ve got it. One shake isn’t gonna break the bank, you know?” 
“I know that,” Steve huffed. “I just–would it seriously kill you to let me treat you once in a while?”
Steve had done more than enough, and Eddie thought he damn well knew that. Between literally saving Eddie’s life when he’d been about to bleed out in the Upside Down and then sticking around through all of his recovery in the weeks after, the amount he had done was approaching near superheroic levels. 
“You know you don’t have to hover, right, Harrington?” Eddie had asked him one day towards the end of his stay in the hospital, gnawing anxiously at his bottom lip, as he watched Steve look up from the Sports Illustrated sprawled across his lap.
The truth was he hadn’t wanted to say anything, too afraid bringing it up would lead to Steve doing just as he was suggesting…finally leaving. But the anxiety humming in his ears that Steve was just here out of pity had finally become worse, forced the words from his mouth. 
“You saved Dustin, man,” Steve had replied, expression earnest, “and helped distract the bats from me and Nance and Robin, too. I’m not going anywhere. So, you know…get used to it.”
He had punctuated the last statement by giving Eddie a light, friendly slap on his knee, and Eddie had to bite back the beaming, relieved grin that threatened to split his face. 
Steve had stayed pretty much a permanent fixture in Eddie’s day-to-day life after that, proving time and again he was serious about being in it for the long haul. Even through all the embarrassing shit, like Eddie hobbling around on his cane like a baby deer on shaky newborn legs, or needing somebody to help him wash his hair. Not exactly the ideal position to be in with a hopeless high school crush that had come burning back to life with a vengeance, but Steve would hear none of it when Eddie tried to insist he didn’t need to go out of his way like this. 
“What, you want Henderson in here instead?” Steve had asked with a snort. “You gotta be kidding, Munson. Like I said, better get used to being stuck with me.”
“Happy to be stuck together with you anytime, big boy,” Eddie had flirted, the shameless bravado in place to cover up the very real fluttering of his heart.  
In other words…Eddie had already accrued more life debts to Steve Harrington than he could ever hope to repay. And while Steve might have insisted he was more than happy with nursemaid duty, Eddie really wasn’t looking to turn himself into a charity case. Not if he could help it.
So Eddie let his grin grow, obnoxious and wide enough to show off all his teeth.
“It might,” he quipped. “And how would you feel, Harrington, knowing that this was the thing that finally managed to do me in? I’m just trying to spare you the guilt, man, I know what a complex you’d get.”
“Whatever, Eds,” Steve scoffed, steering him towards the designated babysitter’s club booth with a nudge of his elbow, hands full of his and Robin’s matching strawberry sundaes. 
Steve took his customary spot on Robin’s side of the booth, the pair of them, as always, practically glued at the hip. Their friendship, Eddie had learned, was a boundary free zone, one that frequently involved holding hands, devolving into childish slap fights with little warning, and falling asleep sprawled on top of each other while watching bad daytime soaps at the Harrington house. Only their vehement denial and the goo-goo eyes Eddie caught Robin making at the red-haired chick–Vickie, he now knew–from band convinced him Dustin’s loud, frequent, and insistent claims that they were dating were total bullshit. 
As he was just about to slide into his own place across from them, a commotion at the table behind them called for Eddie’s attention. 
“Eddie, El wants to hear you do the roar again!” Mike requested. 
Eddie tilted his head to one side, stroking his chin, as though trying to recall what exactly Mike was speaking of. Biting his lip to keep from smiling, he gave Mike a shrug. 
“No clue what you’re talking about, Little Wheel.”
A chorus of cries rang out from both tables the party had overtaken, shrieks of “Eddie!” and “C’mon, man!” reverberating again and again in his ears. 
Spinning on his heel as though he was set to ignore them, Eddie answered Steve and Robin’s expectant expressions with a quick, subtle wink.
When he leapt up from the floor and into a crouch on the booth seating, Eddie felt a sharp tug at his sides, his scar tissue very eagerly making itself known. Gritting his teeth, he refused to let the hot flash of pain show on his face as he loomed over Will and El, hands curving into claws as he reached towards their table.
“Kas the Bloody-Handed demands vengeance!” he bellowed, letting his voice drop into a deep, growling register. 
His performance was met with what might as well have been a standing ovation, in his book–a series of delighted shouts from the boys, eerily similar head shakes from Max and Erica while they both visibly fought back their smiles, and El letting out a peel of giggles as she hid her face in her brother’s side. 
When Hellfire had started back up again, Eddie had considered starting over from scratch, maybe even trying this deep into the game to veer their campaign in a different direction. He didn’t want something that they all loved to become somehow…tainted, by reminders of everything that had happened. 
“Nah, man, just leave it like it is,” Steve had suggested, one afternoon when Eddie’s fretting had finally bubbled over to the point he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “It's good for their…trauma processing? Or something. I don’t know, you’d have to ask Owens about it. The point is, they wouldn’t want you to change it. Not unless you want to.”
In the end, Eddie had heeded Steve’s advice, figuring he knew more about the way those little hellions ticked better than probably anybody else, at this point. 
Moments like these made him glad he did, proof positive his instincts had been spot on. 
Eddie dropped, satisfied, down into the booth, his foot knocking straight into the side of Steve’s under the table. A little spark of pleasure shot through him when Steve simply bumped his Nike sneaker against Eddie’s Reebok in answer and then left it there, pressed close together.
“No wonder you did drama,” Steve observed, twisting a bite around in his mouth as he sucked up the bright red streak of strawberry syrup. “You’re a total natural, man. Kinda, like…hypnotic.”
Eddie tried not to make it too obvious, how closely he was following the way Steve licked up every last morsel.  
“Yeah, until he dropped out like a quitter.”
“What can I say, Buckley? Organized–well, anything really–just ain’t for me.”
“Says the guy who literally runs an afterschool club,” she pointed the end of her plastic spoon at him in accusation. “Sounds to me like you’re full of it, Eddie.”
“She’s got you there, man,” Steve agreed with a shrug, a drop from his sundae dribbling onto the table as he swirled it around yet again. 
“Oh, napkins!” 
Slapping a palm against her forehead, Robin clambered over Steve and out of the booth, not so much as hesitating to give him a chance to stand up. 
“You know, if you wanna see more where that came from–my flare for theatrics, that is–you could always, I don’t know. Stick around when you drop off the kiddos next week?” As Eddie posed the question, he wondered if the lilt in his voice sounded too hopeful. “I won’t even make you play. You have my word as a dungeon master and a gentleman.”
“Yeah, uh…fat chance of that happening,” Steve murmured, voice low, almost like he didn’t want Eddie to actually hear him, “your friends fucking hate me, dude.”
“They don't hate you,” Eddie protested automatically, feeling the need to defend them even as his own heart sank in his chest, “they're just…a little skittish, after everything that went down with Jason. You–you get that, right?”
“Sure,” Steve shrugged, looking down as he stirred his spoon through his steadily melting soft serve. When he glanced up at Eddie again, a tenseness crept in around the edges of his smile that Eddie desperately wished he could help wipe away. “I get it.”
Robin returned to the table before either of them got a chance to say anything else, sliding over Steve’s lap with enough clumsy limbed flailing it prompted a, Sheesh, Rob. Watch the elbows, will you? out of Steve. 
Seeing an opening, Eddie quickly changed the subject. 
“So, speaking of the ins-and-outs of living in the institution that is our organized society–how is Family Video treating my two favorite, upstanding, and gainfully employed Hawkins citizens?”
Robin snorted. “It’s minimum wage, Eddie. How good could it possibly be?”
“Well, I mean–you could trade places with me if you wanted. Be gainfully unemployed with a side hustle that went up in smoke since that whole–you know, accused of being a ritual Satanic murderer thing put the local law enforcement on your tail.”
Both Steve’s eyebrows shot up at that. “The cop’s still giving you trouble?”
“Not in so many words, but, uh–let’s just say they’ve made it pretty clear I’m not exactly their favorite person, right now. So, yeah. Officer Callahan must have circled the trailer park like–three different times, last night.”
“But…you were exonerated,” Robin protested, the force of her distress clear from the way she slapped a palm down flat on top of the table. “That–that’s a total misappropriation of police funds, not to mention harassment of a private citizen.”
“You ever think that maybe they’re just keeping an eye on the place?” Steve suggested hopefully, “You know…after everything that happened.” 
“Your adorably positive outlook has been noted, Stevie. Noted, but ultimately dismissed.”
“Want me to talk to Hop for you? Get him to tell them to stand down?” 
“Nah, man,” Eddie gave a forceful shake of his head, hair whipping around him in a messy cloud, “I can handle it. I’ve got plenty of experience, evading the Hawkins Police force.”
Rubbing a finger over his sideburn, Steve tilted his head from side-to-side in consideration, before he casually added, “Guess we all do, now.”
“A band of fearsome outlaws, that’s us,” Robin agreed, her nose crinkling as she laughed, loud and bright. 
“More like Robin Hood and his merry men.” At Robin’s pointed glance, Eddie was quick to amend, “…And women, of course.” 
The conversation flowed along at a rapid fire pace from there, the three of them at first trying to assign different characters from the story to all the members of the party before devolving fast into a debate about which cinematic performance of the lead character was the best–and sexiest, though Eddie didn’t divulge that was most of the metric he was using for his answers–and thus which adaptation came out on top. Robin fell into the same camp as him–Errol Flynn all the way–while Steve was a firm defender of the Disney version because, That little fox guy is cute and charismatic, guys, you can’t even argue with me on this one. 
When he had slurped up the last remnants of his malt, Eddie stretched his arms above his head, leaned back against the booth’s cracking red vinyl, and sighed. 
“Fancy a smoke break?” he asked, pulling the pack from his pocket and waving it tantalizingly for Steve to see.
Steve laughed with a roll of his eyes.
“You know I quit, dude.” 
“And so should you,” Robin added pointedly, an argument she’d made countless times since Eddie got out of the hospital, pretty much every single time she caught him lighting up. 
“Cut me some slack, Buckley,” Eddie said, same as he always did. “I’ve been through a traumatic experience. Ciggies are good for the stress, since I can’t exactly smoke weed outside this fine, family friendly establishment.”
“Uh-huh,” Robin replied, deadpan and unconvinced as ever, “we’ve all got our fair share of U.D. related trauma, Eddie. That’s not an excuse to suck on those…little sticks made out of cancer.”  
“Alright, well. Fancy a stand-outside-with-me-and-bullshit break, then?” Eddie directed at Steve. 
Robin raised an eyebrow at him, and Eddie couldn’t quite read the expression on her face. It seemed…knowing in a way he was too afraid to totally unpack. 
She saved him the trouble of having to do so by letting out a put upon sigh, dramatic enough for him or Steve either one when they got going, and a true reflection of the fact she had stuck it out through almost four years of high school theater. 
“Stealing away my own best friend to go join your boys’ club, Eddie? Really? And right in front of me, too. You know, this is just like second grade, when Trevor Milligan convinced all the boys in our class girls had cooties, and Bobby B. wouldn’t race me on the monkey bars anymore.” 
Laying a hand over his heart, Eddie had to fight down the grin that threatened to split across his face. “I solemnly vow to bring him back all in one piece, Buck. I know who's top dog around here.”
The nod she gave him was swift and authoritative. “And don’t you forget it.” 
With a wink and a click of his tongue, he mock saluted her. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She turned to Steve, giving his bicep several sharp pokes. “But just because I'm the girl doesn't mean I deserve to get saddled with child-rearing responsibilities, you know!”
“We're not children,” Red interjected with a dry sort of exasperation from the next booth over.
Her point was immediately undermined by Lucas, using the makeshift catapult he'd made from his spoon to fling a maraschino cherry at Dustin. The other boy let out an indignant squawk when it missed his mouth entirely and got caught right in his curly hair.
Even from behind her glasses, it was pretty obvious what sort of look Max was giving her boyfriend.
“Correction…I'm not a child.”
“Sorry.” Lucas's grin was sheepish.
“Rob,” Steve said flatly, ignoring the kids’ antics to instead pin her with his own look, like she was being ridiculous. 
Which was…pretty fair, this time, in Eddie's opinion. He wasn't sure he'd ever met anyone with quite the same intense level of tired dad–mom–whatever energy as Steve had, and all before he'd even hit his early twenties. When it came to babysitting duties, he definitely wasn't a slacker.
“I'm just saying, as a feminist, I thought you should know,” Robin waved her spoon at them, managing to pull the move off without so much as a drip of her ice cream plopping onto the table.
“We agreed that you'd be the fun uncle,” Steve argued, the lack of protest from Robin proving that was, in fact, a conversation they'd already had, “so then be the fun uncle while Mom and Dad step outside.”
“Mom and Dad?” Robin echoed, eyebrow raising and face scrunching in transparent disbelief–and Eddie had to admit, he was caught on the exact same thing.
Steve only waved a hand at her, rolling his eyes. 
“You know what I mean. Look, it’s only gonna be like fifteen minutes, tops. If you do it I’ll–” Steve spun his hand around in several aimless, pinwheel like motions before finally snapping his fingers in revelation, “I’ll let you put on whatever movie you want at work on Monday!”
Robin stuck her hand out to him. “Make it ten, and you’ve got yourself a deal.” 
Tapping a finger on his top lip, Steve pursed his mouth in thought for a moment. 
“...Twelve,” he bartered. “And you can make it a black and white one. With subtitles.”
Robin’s face lit up, teeth glimmering with the sheer force of her glee.
“Look at that. You really do know the way to a girl’s heart, Steve.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled, giving her hand one firm, business-like shake. 
Eddie was already up, having impatiently shimmied several paces away from the booth, by the time Steve stood and fell into step beside him.
Cupping his hands around his mouth, Eddie couldn’t resist shouting over his shoulder, “Make sure they eat all their vegetables!”
Steve met Eddie’s shit-eating grin with one of his own before adding, “And no scary movies before bedtime!”
Seven individual hands all popped up, shooting them the bird as one.
By the time they stepped out onto the sidewalk, they were both stumbling into each other’s sides with laughter. 
Once they were outside and had managed to pull themselves together, Eddie stuck one of the smokes in his mouth and went straight for his lighter, his craving growing palpable. But, as that meant he had to rummage around the tangle of other things jammed inside his pocket, just laying in wait to come spilling out–like a nearly empty pack of Big Red gum, a crumpled receipt, and the spare die Eddie kept on his person in case of D&D-related emergencies–he fumbled it, the BIC hitting the ground with a sad thump.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he complained out of reflex, both from general annoyance and just a tinge of embarrassment, feeling the burn of it with his klutziness deciding to come out around Steve in full force. 
Nat 1 on charisma, Munson. Critical failure.
Steve waved a dismissive hand at him. “I got it, man, I got it.”
And before Eddie could protest, he was stooping down beside him to pick the lighter up off the asphalt of the Dairy Queen parking lot, giving it a toss into his hand like the total show off he was.
Eddie was about to make a crack about it, something along the lines of You just gotta demonstrate your athletic prowess in front of us lesser mortals, doncha, Harrington?–except, well. He didn’t get the chance. 
Because, one second, Steve was popping up and waving the lighter cockily at him, grin bright on his face, and, the next…
The next, and totally without warning, he was leaning in close, cupping his hand to light the cigarette dangling from Eddie’s lips for him. 
Eddie inhaled on instinct, taking a long drag as the cherry glowed to life, a stark red in the fading light of dusk. As for the sudden rush that went to his head–he had little doubt that it was just from the hit of nicotine alone.
And–maybe it was a trick of the low light. But for a long, breathless moment, Steve’s eyes seemed to linger on Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie’s heartbeat kicked up in answer, rabbiting wildly in his throat. The air between them grew thick, heavy-laden with tension that seemed to almost crackle like electricity. 
Eddie took the cigarette from his lips slowly, dropping his hand to let it hang at his side. And, still, Steve’s gaze never wavered, eye line still leveled directly at his mouth. If one of them were to just finally cave into the building pressure, sway forward and close that distance between them, maybe they could…
But, then, from one blink to the next, the heated expression on Steve’s face cleared, replaced by a guileless, easy smile. 
…Eddie tried to tamp down on the flare of disappointment he felt at the sight of it.  
“You know, man–Robin’s totally right about those things.” 
Steve dragged a finger across his throat, pretending to choke as he briefly mimed his own dramatic death scene. The Eddie of a year ago wouldn’t have believed it–but the Eddie of now knew better, had been exposed to Steve’s silly antics on more than one occasion. He could be just as big a goofball as Dustin, as any of the kids, as Eddie himself when he wanted to be. 
“You really should cut back.”
It was all so…normal. Casual. A light chiding about bad habits in an airy tone, like…
Like everything before hadn’t happened at all. 
Eddie stared at Steve for a long moment, trying to read the expression in his wide, hazel eyes. But…they were totally and completely inscrutable to him.
And, look. Eddie was queerer than a three dollar bill–had been since gawky adolescence hit him like a freight train, all too-long limbs and sudden, embarrassingly consistent morning wood. Dudes or chicks, it didn’t matter. Like Bowie, Eddie was an equal opportunist…for all the good it had ever done him, able to count the times he’d made a pass and hadn’t struck out on one hand. Being Hawkins local freak would do that to a guy, and that was before the murder charges and cult-leader accusations. 
But the thought that Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington was anything other than stalwartly heterosexual in the most apple-pie, white-picket-fence, boy-next-store way imaginable? The idea should have been laughable. And a year ago, Eddie would have done just that, laughed it off with a no way, man rolling easily off his tongue.
But now…now he wasn’t so sure. 
Because there was something electric about the growing familiarity that had popped up between him and Steve the closer they’d gotten since their fateful spring break excursion to the Upside Down. He felt it, when Steve slung his arm over the back of the couch when Eddie sat next to him during movie night, or laid a hand in the small of Eddie’s back, easy as anything, to keep him steady when the kids all jostled ahead of them to get through the door at the arcade. 
Maybe it was all just some vestige from Steve’s high school glory days, leftover jock rituals Eddie knew nothing about. Maybe it was total wishful thinking on Eddie’s part, as his crush steadily grew into something gargantuan. Shit, that’s what he tried to tell himself most of the time, if only for his own sanity–but he was still reluctant to say it was all in his head. Especially when moments like this kept cropping up more and more. 
…Eddie was too afraid to push it, though. Hardly over a month old, technically–even though some days it felt like a lifetime–the friendship between them was new. Not delicate, not hardly, but still not something Eddie was looking to scare off when it’d only just gotten started. 
So as the uncertainty settled over him, Eddie finally ducked his head for an instant, gnawing at his bottom lip. Then he reached over and gave Steve’s temple a teasing tap. 
“Sometimes, I just wonder what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours, Stevie.”
The flirtation was thick, sure, but it was easy enough to play it off the same way he always did–just some harmless teasing between two guys, nothing serious. Plus, Eddie figured Steve was more than used to his antics by now. Sometimes, his over-the-top personality really did pay off. 
But behind those words was the truth of Eddie’s thoughts, swirling over and over again. 
Fuck. If only I could get inside his head. Then, maybe I’d be able to figure out what the hell he’s thinking. 
For a split second, he could have sworn Steve’s shoulders stiffened, posture going unexpectedly rigid. But then Steve laughed, brushing the swoop of his hair back, fingers dancing tantalizingly close to Eddie’s own, and Eddie was left to wonder if it was just more of his mind playing tricks on him. 
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I’m like an open book. Ask anybody around and they’ll tell you–you don’t have to put yourself out to get an answer. It’s pretty much all, like…hair care tips and sports stats, 24/7 up here.” 
“Come on, Steve,” Eddie scoffed, “I don’t believe that shit for even a second.” 
Steve only shook his head, smile still firmly in place. 
“Not sure what to tell you, dude. It’s true. Besides,” the word came out lower, almost as if Steve was talking to himself, “between the two of us, pretty sure you’re more the man of mystery than I am, dude.” 
At that, Eddie let out a startled bark of laughter. 
“Me?! You cannot be serious with that one, Harrington, no way in hell. Have you seen me? If anybody’s the open book here, it’s me. I’m practically a screaming headline on the late night news. Every single thought and feeling I’ve ever had automatically comes flying,” Eddie pressed his hand against his lips and made a sound like an explosion, splaying his fingers out, “straight out of my mouth. Always has. Just ask my old man, he used to bitch about it all the time. ‘Quit that blubbering and toughen up, Eddie, or life will steamroll right over you.’”
Steve’s lips pursed, the same knowing but insulted look he always wore when the infamous Munson patriarch came up in conversation. 
“Your dad sounds like a real jackass, Eds.” 
Eddie could only hum his agreement. 
Everybody in Hawkins knew Al Munson, low down no-account that he was. His reputation preceded him–and Eddie, more often than not. But Steve had more of the inside scoop than most, Eddie having opened up to both him and Robin about his home life. 
Still, he wondered at the vehemence with which Steve defended him, any time the mention of his absentee patriarch came up. By contrast, Eddie didn’t know jackshit about the Harringtons apart from the fact that they were hotshots around town. Steve never mentioned them, not really, and Eddie had never run into them the times he’d been over to Steve’s place. Which was…pretty weird in and of itself, wasn’t it?
Yet another mysterious piece of the puzzle that was Steve Harrington. 
“I don’t know, man,” Steve shrugged, voice gone quiet again, tugging Eddie out of his reverie. “I kinda think your book might be in Hobbit, or whatever it’s called from those books you guys love so much, because I don’t really see you that way at all.” 
Reaching out, he suddenly caught a strand of Eddie’s hair between two fingers. Eddie sucked in a sharp breath at the gesture, face going hot. 
“Besides, haven’t you ever heard of tall, dark, and mysterious? If the hair fits.” 
Steve gave the curl a light tug before dropping it. Eddie immediately snatched it back up, tugging it like a curtain across his mouth, desperate to hide the faint color on his cheeks. 
“Guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one, dude.” 
Steve let out what sounded like an amused huff. “Looks like it.”
When Steve looked down at his watch, Eddie realized, in the time they’d been talking, that he’d smoked his cigarette down to a nub.
“We should probably head back inside,” Steve gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, “before all of Lucas’s toppings somehow end up in Dustin’s hair, and Robin decides to ground them all until they’re twenty-five.”
As he stubbed out the bud with his shoe, Eddie fiddled with his rings, trying to subtly shake off some of the tension that had seemed to build up in the air around their conversation. When he met Steve’s eyes again, he was all cheery smiles, hoping he didn’t look too manic as his cheeks stretched with the force of it.
“Well, now, we couldn’t have that,” Eddie agreed, even as he added, “–Thought she said she wasn’t parenting material, though? Pretty sure fun uncles don’t have to ground people.”
His own uncle was more like a father than anything else, and still he’d never really bothered to try grounding Eddie–his disappointed stare always did more to deter Eddie away from his own stupidity than anything else ever had.
“Sure, she says that, until somebody gets chocolate ice cream on her new favorite button down. Then it’s goddamn,” Steve let out one long, forlorn beep followed by two shorter ones–an unmistakable imitation of Pac-Man’s game over death knell, and proof of just how much time he spent at the arcade with the kids, “over for everybody involved, including me somehow.”
“I mean, you did call us Mom and Dad, man. Guess that makes us responsible whenever the kiddos misbehave.”
Steve sighed, long and loud and clearly just a little exaggerated for Eddie’s benefit, if the way Steve widened his eyes in mock fear was anything to go by. 
“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. Those little shits can stir up all kinds of trouble in ten minutes flat. No telling what the damage is.”
So, with one last jocular pat to Eddie’s back, he began herding him back inside the shop.  
And when Eddie’s own traitorous heart gave a twist at such a small, meaningless gesture? All he could do was send a silent curse up to the sky, and do his best to ignore it. 
That night, Eddie fell through a tangle of twisting, nonsensical dreams.
At first, he was in the stolen RV, relieving a memory. The Upside Down crew–Nancy, Robin, Steve, Dustin–stood all around him, preparing for that fateful last trip to try and stop Vecna. After reciting their orders, his hand clapped down on Dustin’s head in reassurance, a last show of camaraderie before they headed off into battle.
But then, without warning, the ground seemed to shift right beneath his feet. 
Coming out of the haze, he found himself staring at a refrigerator, standing in a kitchen he didn’t immediately recognize. On autopilot, with a feeling like his body was being tugged by invisible strings he couldn’t quite control, his hand swung down again, the motion identical as he gave Dustin a fond scuff over his cap. Except…Dustin was shorter, this time, and undeniably younger. And Eddie, well–the Members Only jacket hanging over his shoulders was definitely not his own, though he thought he had spotted one identical to it hanging in the back of Steve’s closet.  
He barely had time to register those weird little details before the world was going topsy turvy yet again. 
Eddie was on his back, a swirl of bats circling overhead like a storm against the violent red splash of Upside Down sky. As his sides screamed in agony, wooziness clenched down on his mind with a vice grip, not at all helped by the fact that the scene around him kept changing. 
One second, he was shirtless, dampness and grime clinging to his chest hair, Nancy Wheeler’s mouth a grim line as she stared down at him with an oar in hand. Then he blinked, and Dustin’s face swam into view above him, fuzzy as Eddie’s own vision blurred around the edges. 
Blink. Wheeler and Buckley, fighting off demobats like two warrior women worthy of only the grandest of campaigns. 
Blink. Dustin, screaming his name so harshly, his throat had to be raw from it. 
Blink. The outline of Eddie himself, shouting up at the sky, demanding they give him all they’d got despite the fucking bone-deep terror he knew he’d been feeling. The out-of-body sensation that slammed into him, existing somehow both inside and outside the moment all at once, was so jarring Eddie’s stomach lurched, like he was going to be sick. 
Back and forth, again and again, like the world’s worst, most bizarre merry-go-round…until finally, Dustin solidified, Eddie’s own memory draping over him like a well-worn but ill-fitting shirt. He flinched a little as he felt dampness drip against his cheeks, and a long moment stretched on before Eddie fully realized that it wasn’t rain hitting him in the face, but instead the fat tears currently racing down the bridge of the other boy’s nose. 
He knew this moment well, viscerally, a long, hellish stretch that had revisited him night after night the past month–and one he’d do almost anything to forget. 
His final goodbyes exchanged, Eddie’s eyes slipped shut of their own accord. It wasn’t peaceful, exactly–some part of Eddie deep down still railed, pissed as hell at what was happening to him–but he was also so fucking tired, after days on the run. Worn out and fed up, and ready to just get some fucking rest.
So, when the blackness swallowed him, he couldn’t help but wonder if this time, it really would be for good.
–And then a faint, familiar voice rang out in the distance.  
“Dustin?!” Eddie heard Steve scream, like a tether pulling him back into his own body. “Eddie?! You gotta be fucking kidding me, where the hell are you guys?!”
The heavy thud of footfalls drew closer, and Eddie practically felt the ground shake as another body collapsed beside Dustin. 
The world flashed, spun again. Suddenly, Eddie was sliding across the rough terrain of the alternate world on his knees, the sound of Dustin’s soft cries making his heart ache…and his own lifeless body spread out on the ground in front of him. 
Large hands fisted in the front of Eddie’s vest, tugging at him urgently. 
“Munson! Munson!” Steve’s words spilled from Eddie’s mouth as his grip on the fabric tightened, giving him a hard shake. “Eddie, come on! I told you not to be a hero. Don’t even think about it, dude–you’re not dying on us now!”
Eddie remembered this, too. Steve’s steely, urgent tone, brooking no arguments, like he could actually will Eddie back to life if he wanted to. Except this time–this time Eddie actually felt the terror behind the words, the urgency making Steve’s voice tremble in his throat. Experienced, in real time, the relief hitting like a truck, flooding through his veins, when his own brown eyes slipped open. 
“Did-Didn’t realize you were my commanding officer, Harrington,” the Eddie on the ground murmured–more like croaked, the sentence breaking unpleasantly in the middle.
“You’re damn right I am,” Steve answered, jaw clenching, and Eddie could feel his muscle twitching with it, “if that’s what it takes to get you to stick around, man, consider me a five star general.”
He’s alive, he’s alive, the Steve in his head sang, again and again, thank fuck, he’s alive.
Because, there and then, he…was Steve. The twin emotions of Steve’s own swelling hope that Eddie might make it coupled with Eddie’s own real shock from what Steve was feeling at the time warred inside him, threatening to overwhelm him. 
Then, like the force of that emotion had thrown him, Eddie landed hard on his back again. Confusion hit him as he glanced down and realized that he was shirtless–Steve was entirely shirtless. Because this had been his memory, before, and now Eddie was back in it. 
The revelation had barely settled before agony quickly drowned out anything else, the demo-bats starting to gnaw at his bare sides. One of their tails wrapped tightly around Eddie’s throat, and his hands shot up, uselessly trying to pry it off. He could feel that darkness creeping in again, the familiar sensation of being knocked unconscious rising up to meet him. 
Fourth time’s a charm, I guess, the voice inside Eddie’s head was wry, and it still definitely wasn’t his own. You made a good run of it, Harrington, but looks like your luck finally ran out this time.
The resignation of it, the acceptance, was enough to shake Eddie to the bone. 
No-no-no, no! Some desperate, deeply buried part of him screamed out. You–You’re the goddamn hero, Stevie. You don’t get to give up.
When the oar slammed down near his head this time, Wheeler calling out a quick Hey, there with Robin and Eddie himself at her sides…Eddie had never been so happy to see someone in his entire fucking life, freaky out-of-body experience be damned. 
The vision, memory, whatever it was…it released Eddie, finally. 
And then Steve was there, standing before him, clad in nothing but sleep shorts and his gray Hawkins Phys Ed shirt, his hair mussed. Darkness surrounded them on all sides, too fuzzy and dim for Eddie to make anything out apart from the figure facing him. 
Steve’s lips moved, the shape of them making out what Eddie thought was his name. Dread dripped down his spine, however, as he realized that no sound–not so much as a peep–followed. 
“Stevie?” he answered, the panicked shrillness evident in his own voice even as he couldn’t hear Steve’s own. “I can’t–shit, man, I can’t hear you.”
Steve’s face drew down into a frown, forehead wrinkled, concern and frustration warring on his face. He tried to speak again, but still, Eddie couldn’t hear a thing. Hand flying upwards, Steve gestured to his own ear, finger tapping it once. 
Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, dude, I–I’ve got nothing.”
On instinct, he reached out a placating hand. Glancing down to see it extended towards him, Steve did the same. Eddie felt his chest clench a little, finding comfort in the thought that even in a moment like this, when they couldn’t hear what the other was saying, they still managed to broach some common ground. 
Their fingertips brushed. A spark ran through Eddie at the touch, seeming almost to infect their surroundings as red lighting suddenly flashed all around them.
Between one blink to the next, Steve disappeared. 
Before he had a chance to cry out, Eddie realized, horror steadily climbed up his throat, that the figure now staring back at him was…himself? 
And not a memory version this time, either. No, this was a living, breathing double. 
His doppelganger’s brow furrowed, head tilting to one side, a bit like a confused puppy.
It was like the sound had been turned on all at once, because when the other Eddie spoke, he could finally hear him.
“Eddie?” his mirror image asked, looking past Eddie, around him, anywhere but directly at him.
If he had ever made it to that shrink Owens recommended, he bet they would have had a field day unpacking whatever this was.
Hands Eddie hadn’t even realized had still been clasped parted, slipping away from each other.
And then, Eddie was sucked back into darkness, feeling adrift as any chance at seeing Steve, his doppelganger, anything and anyone vanished into the distance. He was lost, totally and utterly, and he felt it, every bit of it, the weight crushing in on him as the last dregs of the dream faded away.
The next morning, Eddie woke up in Steve Harrington’s bed.
Part 2
Taglist: @highkingpenny @tinytalkingtina @starryeyedjanai @sidekick-hero @thefreakandthehair @lingeringmirth @eriquin @bifuriouswaterbender @fuctacles
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Text
Killing Time 1
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.
Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
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Your frustration mounts as you click the permissions again to allow the camera and microphone access. It’s so annoying! It just keeps running you in circles. Great. This is off to a good start. Late for the interview. That’s always the best first impression. 
When at last your firewall stops blocking the call, you flinch at the sight of yourself in the corner. You’re further jarred by the man staring back at you. Your mouth opens and for a moment, you’re frozen. You were so focused on troubleshooting, you forgot about what was waiting on the other end. 
“Oh, hi,” you squeak. “Sorry, I--” you look around, glancing through the clear walls of the library study room. It’s the first time you’ve been to this branch but you didn’t think the clutter of your apartment would make a good backdrop. “I was having issues with my camera.” 
“Quite alright,” he responds with a grin and a lilted accent. He sounds as professional as he looks. 
He wears a grey jacket over a muted teal shirt that lights up his eyes, even over the screen. His short hair is combed back neatly and there’s not a speck of stubble on his jaw. Under the structure of his attire you can tell he’s well-built. 
You resist the urge to look down at yourself. A white blouse. Boring but professional. It gets the job done. Hopefully. 
You force a smile. 
“Thank you for meeting with me,” he begins through your nervous silence. “I do appreciate your time and I would hate to waste it. So, we can hop right in.” He looks unflinchingly into the camera, “oh, let us not go so far past courtesy. I am James, we’ve been corresponding, yes?” 
“Uh, yeah, I remember. James.” You gulp. 
He says your name with a keen inclination. “This is rather not the position which requires those cliche questions so I won’t trouble you with asking what animal best reflects your personality.” 
You cough out a humouring chuckle and fold your hands on the desk. 
“Forgive if I should seem to the point. You see, it’s a very practical position. I think it’s best we go over what is expected before we go into the finer details; expenses, relocation, dates--” 
“Mm,” you squeak and put a finger up, “s-sorry, um, I thought we were interviewing but it sound like you’ve made a decision?” 
“Well, yes, I’ve reviewed your CV and your submitted profile and your answers to the questionnaire were acceptable. I didn’t think there was much else to consider,” he intones. You shift and try to hide your surprise. 
“No, of course, that makes sense,” you say. “Thanks, I guess I was confused.” 
“Not to worry. I find that written communication can often lack clarity so I thought it best we have a face-to-face in this circumstance,” he looks down as if he has a book or paper before him. “So, did you have any questions before I proceed?” 
“No, no, really, I'm sure you’ll answer them all.” Your cheeks bloom in a half-smile. You were so nervous about getting the job but you’ve already got it. 
“Right then,” he sits back and once more stares down the camera. “It is a very old property but the upkeep has been consistent. There should not be any glaring necessities for maintenance, this more of a custodial position. So, you would be the one to keep the place clean, make sure it is aired out, tend to the lawns but we do employ a grounds keeping service that comes fortnightly to trim.” 
You nod. It’s intriguing. You were sent photos of the property but you’re not quite sure of its purpose. Judging by the clustered pines in the background, you would guess it’s remote. A getaway that could be a goldmine for those wanting a vacation from the urban jungle. 
“You would have a roster, you see, of those you could contact for service so you will not require any specialisations. You are the day-to-day and would be expected to bring in the appropriate support for higher-touch difficulties.” 
“Right,” you try not to show your anxiety. 
“Albeit I should warn you that the reception in that location is not the greatest so if you cannot call out, you would need to keep trying. It will eventually catch but uh, not to mind, as long it is attended is what matters, not when,” he says.  
“Mhm, that makes sense. Um, can I ask what the property is? Is it like a summer home or...” 
“Ah, family inheritance,” he answers primly. “I’ve not much use for it past the sentimental value and I thought of leasing it for traveling parties but I’ve heard horror stories. Right now, I’m merely sitting on it until I figure out exactly what to do with it.” 
“Oh, right. Wow. Quite the inheritance.” 
“Hm, yes, my uncle did rather adore me. I was the only one named in his will but he was a bit of a curmudgeon.” He laughs. “Now, I must ask the most important question--” 
Before he can, the door swings open and you jump in your seat. Your heart sinks. You signed the room out for ninety minutes. You thought it would be more than enough. Surely it hasn’t been that long. 
Shoot. It’s him. How did he find you? You deliberately went out of your way so that he couldn’t. 
“Jake,” you stand and turn to him, trying to block the computer. “What are you doing?” 
“There you are,” he touches his chest as if he should be the one so afraid. “You didn’t come home--” 
You growl and cross your arms. 
“Jake, go away,” you grit out. “Not right now. Please.” 
“I had to make sure you’re okay,” he steps into the room and you push yourself back against the table. “Who else is going to look after you?” 
“I will scream, alright,” you warn. “Now leave me alone. I’m tired of telling you.” 
He sighs and his jaw squares. “I don’t get you. You act like I’m such a bad guy and I haven’t done anything to you. I never hurt you but you hurt me. You just spit in my face--” 
“Pardon,” the voice rises from the speaker at your back. “If I may, she is occupied and you are interrupting. I have a mind to contact emergency service should you persist.” Your mouth falls open and you turn to look at your laptop. James leans forward to glare at the lens, “Not sure who you are, fellow, but the lady has been clear.” 
“Who-- who is he?” Jake sputters. 
“Please, just go,” you plead. “Or I will call the police.” 
Little good they will do, you think, but that doesn’t need to be said aloud. 
He frowns and his eyes glint dangerously. You stare back at him, tense, fingers curling and uncurling nervously. That man on the screen won’t stop him and you don’t know if anyone would hear you from the desk. 
“Fine, guess I’ll see ya around,” he relents and backs out. 
You don’t move until he snaps the door shut. You hurry over and twist the lock on the inside. You don’t know why you didn’t do that before. 
“Are you alright?” James asks, drawing you back to the desk. 
You sit and look at the keyboard, “I’m very sorry. I...” 
“He doesn’t sound like a friend,” James says. You shake your head. “Well, then, it does sound like you’re in need of a fresh start. I do hope this can be that for you.” 
You look up and bat away the glimmer on the brims of your eyes. You’re not just afraid, you’re embarrassed. His kindness is as comforting as it is unexpected. 
“Thanks, um, anyway...” you exhale, “you were going to ask something.” 
“Yes, uh, yes, I was,” he reconfigures and puts another smile on. “When can you depart? I would of course arrange travel to be sure you get here safe and sound.” 
“Oh, when... whenever is best. Not to be too desperate but as soon as possible,” you say. 
“Wonderful,” he praises, “absolutely wonderful. Is tomorrow too soon? Pardon my own desperation.” 
“Tomorrow?” You utter and shake your head. “Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.”  
It's sudden and scary but it’s good. The sooner you go, the less time Jake has to figure out what you’re doing. The less chance he can follow. It’s an escape. Not a perfect one but it’s all you have. 
🩸
You spend all night packing. You parse down what you have to the essentials and put the rest in bags. You don’t care about the furniture. You say as much in your email to your landlord, telling him to use your deposit for the disposal. 
You whittle your life down to three bags. A large suit case, a knapsack, and a single purse. You have it ready to go by the door. 
You feel uneasy about it. You stare at your luggage, the lights off, windows closed. Your phone buzzes and you put it to silent, ignoring the messages from your personal pest. You’ll be done with him too. You wonder if you should just toss your cell. 
You don’t sleep. You can’t. You still can’t believe you’re getting out. You hope you haven’t given the game away. 
There’s a tap on the window. You nearly roll onto the floor. You look over and hear it again, a harder impact. Are you serious? He’s throwing stones. He could break the damn glass. 
You shake your head. You won’t fall for it. Not again. You remember when he came to your door and cried until you opened up. He even smeared ketchup on his face to make you think he was hurt. It’s hard to tell the difference through a peephole. 
Almost there. Almost out. You just need to make it a few more hours. 
As you ignore the incessant tapping and the light of your phone glowing ever few minutes, your thoughts turn bitter. You should message everyone who turned their back on you and tell them exactly what they’ve put you through. Somehow, you think they’d care as much as they did before. 
Sleep eludes you but a foggy daze comes over you as the windows soften with the early morning. There’s no more pebbles bouncing off the pane. Just you and the buzz of the sleeping city. 
Your alarm chimes and you get up as your head pulses. You’re used to the constant fatigue. It will ease up and you’ll just feel a bit heavy. When it’s normal, you don’t notice as much. 
You get ready and have an instant coffee by the door. James messages just before nine. Your car will be there in ten. Oh, early. You don’t mind about that. 
You won’t go out and wait. You’ll stay here, where it’s safe. 
When your phone goes off again, you expect it to be Jake. It’s James. Whew. You’re so close, you can’t believe it. 
You grab your knapsack and purse, and drag your suitcase out behind you. You lock the door and throw the key through the mail slot. You hurry down the hall and take the stairs over the elevator.  
You don’t look back or anyway but forward. You look at your cell. 'Black Jaguar’ followed by a plate number. Jaguar? Holy moly. 
The tinted window rolls down and reveals the same face from the Zoom call. You didn’t know he was coming himself. You assumed he was sending a cab or something. You slow as you come out the door. He smiles and pops open the door. 
Before you can come forward, another figure appears, blocking your way. 
“Hey, I've been calling all night,” Jake says. You stop short and nearly yelp. Of course! 
“Jake, move.” 
“Where are you going?” He looks at your bags desperately. “Wait, you can’t--” 
“Pardon me, sir, is there some issue?” James strides up behind him. 
Jake turns to face him and stiffens, “and who are you—wait, you’re that guy from the computer.” 
“I’m none of your business, as is her life,” James insists. “Now, seems you’re used to picking on those smaller than you but let’s see how you do against me?” 
James steps closer. He’s a few inches taller than Jake. You can’t move as they stare each other down. You wait, expecting chaos. 
“I was only talking,” Jake shows his palms and shrugs. “It’s whatever. She’s a bitch anyways.” 
He turns and snarls over his shoulder at you. You back up. As Jake turns, he’s knocked off kilter as James hurls his fist into his jaw. The shorter man staggers and falls to one knee, catching himself in the grass. 
“Well, that was a lovely chat,” James smirks and beckons to you, “shall we?” 
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kaminocasey · 1 year
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Oh my, your post about Tech's soft voice got me swooning! (It's true though, he has a lovely voice) So, if it's alright with you, I'd like to make a request for a fluffy Tech x Reader fic. Maybe it's one of your first times sleeping in the same bed as Tech, and in the morning, he really doesn't want to let you go. He so rarely gets this kind of affection, so he's just holding you, whispering sweet nothings trying to get you to stay. Thank you so much, you deserve all the love and praise!
Hi! I'M SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! (Literally 9 months, I'm the worst lol, please forgive me!) I'm gonna try to get back to a point where I can open my requests again!
I got hit with massive writer's block for Tech and then After that finale, it got harder and harder to write for him lol. Hopefully this makes up for it? I got a sort of idea for a series... so Lemme know if you think it's something you guys would want??
Soft Mornings
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; smut-ish? suggestive themes
Taglist Form
You feel Tech’s warm body against yours before you open your eyes, snuggling against his chest more, your bottom brushing up against his length. 
“Good morning, darling.” He chuckles, softly, kissing your neck. 
Your previous night had been so perfect. Better than anything you could’ve ever imagined. Parts of it start to flood your memory, making your face go warm. 
“Good morning.” You bring his hand to your lips and he snuggles his nose into the crook of your neck. “How did you sleep?” 
You’d been slightly afraid that Tech wouldn’t be able to sleep well since he’s never slept next to another person before and you know how much he enjoys his space. But when you’d offered to go back to your bunk, he’d only pulled you close to him, bringing the covers up over the both of you and asked you to stay.
“I think I slept better than I’ve ever slept before.” He admits and then starts to smile. “I’m afraid I will not be able to sleep alone now.”  
“Oh no. How awful. Guess I better take up permanent residence here.” You laugh. 
He chuckles again and you roll over to face him. 
“Hi.” You smile up at him.
“Hello.” He smiles back, his voice still soft and raspy in a sleepy way, making you melt like putty. 
His hair is sticking up in different directions and you imagine yours is too, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Kissing him softly, you run your hands up to cup his face, which is starting to feel slightly stubbly from not having shaved in a few days. You take note of how good the five o’clock shadow looks on him.
“I’ve got work soon.” You sigh against his lips.
His sigh matches yours. “Don’t go.” 
You laugh, softly. “I have to.” He wraps his arms around your lower back, pulling you up against him. “I’m sure I could persuade you to stay.” 
“Try.” You whisper. 
He pushes you onto your back and hovers above you, smiling so softly down at you. “All I’ve wanted since meeting you is to wake up next to you. It’s a new feeling for me… But getting to wake up next to you, and seeing how absolutely endearing you are with ‘bedhead’ and your sleepy voice, makes me want nothing more than to do this every morning.”
You look up at him, wide eyed at his confession. Tech’s not been one for being forthright with his emotions, so this is new. And it melts your heart. You’d love to hear him tell you these sweet nothings every day. 
As if he can read your thoughts, he kisses you again. “I know I don’t speak about how I feel a lot… but I feel safe here… with you.” 
Your chest tightens and you pull him toward you, crushing your lips to his. He groans softly, his hand sliding down to grip your hip, anchoring you to him and the bed.
“Let me convince you to stay.” He murmurs, kissing your neck.
“I don’t need any more convincing.” You smile with a hum. “I’ll call in and we can stay in bed all day.” 
“Sounds lovely.” He nuzzles his nose against your jaw as he presses his growing length up against your already eager warmth, making you gasp softly.
“Maybe you could use… other incentives to make me stay.” You tease him and he chuckles, darkly, catching on immediately.
“Say no more, darling.” He nods as he shows you just how much he loves waking up next to you. 
You really could get used to this… perhaps one day, he’d leave the war and battles behind to be safe here in this bed with you… where nothing bad could happen to him, and you wouldn’t have to worry so much every time he leaves. 
Perhaps, he’ll choose these soft mornings with you, too.
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