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#have fun with this it took forever do i regret it? no
steddie-as-they-come · 11 months
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"Mom," Steve whispered in the inky blackness of his parents' room. "Mom, there's something under my bed."
Patricia Harrington turned over. "Steven, go back to sleep," she murmured.
"I can't." Steve said. "There's a monster."
"No such thing." his mom said, angrier, more awake. "Go to bed now, and if I catch you out of bed again you can forget going to Tommy's this weekend."
Steve nodded and padded back down the hall, pausing at his door then taking a running jump into bed.
The room was silent.
"I know you're here." Steve whispered, making sure all his limbs were tucked safely away under the covers. "You don't scare me."
A couple minutes of quiet, then Steve heard a scraping sound come from under his bed. He squeaked and pulled his blankets up to his nose.
A horrible, raspy laugh came from below him. "I do scare you!" said a voice. "You lied!"
"No-no you don't!" Steve said boldly. He clutched his blanket tighter, then said, "I can't be scared of something I can't see! That's just dumb."
Something dark began to slither across the floor out of the corner of Steve's eye. Oh, I'm gonna regret that, he thought.
The thing began to pull itself up, looming over Steve. It cracked a smile, and sharp white teeth gleamed in the light from his closet.
Steve screamed.
"Shut up!" his dad shouted angrily from downstairs, and Steve clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes flicking between the shadow and the door like he wasn't sure which monster to be more afraid of.
The monster crept toward him, and Steve dug his fingernails into his face, scooting away from the horror. He whimpered, not daring to close his eyes.
Then the monster began to shrink.
It shriveled away, changing color and backing up, until a little boy, about Steve's age, stood in front of him. He had long curly hair and was dressed in a t-shirt that was way too big on him. When he opened his eyes, Steve flinched, because the whites of his eyes simply...weren't there. His eyes were an onyx black.
"Hi," the boy said. "I'm Eddie."
Steve was too stunned to speak, but he did uncover his mouth.
"I'm the monster under your bed!" Eddie said. "I'm supposed to scare you, but, um-" he risked a quick look at the door "-I don't think you need my help for that."
"Why are you supposed to scare me?" Steve asked.
Eddie shrugged. "Dunno. Every kid's got one. It's just how it works. I was made to be your monster, forever!" He sat down on the edge Steve's bed, bumping Steve's shoulder against his. "Weird to be on this side of the bed. No dust bunnies or anything."
Steve giggled, forgetting his fear. "You're fun!"
Eddie grinned at him. "Thank you! None of the other monsters think my jokes are funny."
"So you have to scare me?" Steve asked. "But you're not scary. Not after talking to me."
Eddie paused. "Oh, right. I'm not supposed to talk to you. Um..."
"What if we just say you're scaring me?" Steve asked. "I'll pretend I'm really scared of the monster under my bed, and you pretend you scare me every single night. But really we're hanging out instead of scaring!"
"Ooh, I like that idea!" Eddie struck a dramatic pose. "I'll be the monster under your bed, but I'll be ready to protect you if you need it too!"
Steve stuck out his hand like he saw his dad do for business deals. "Deal?"
Eddie shook it. "Deal."
-
Steve sprinted through the forest, the kids hot on his heels. "There!" he shouted. "Everyone in!"
The kids bolted to the abandoned cabin, and Steve slammed the door shut. "Is there a bed in here?" he called. "A couch? A fridge?"
"Bed's in here!" Will yelled, and Steve followed his voice to the cluttered bedroom, complete with partially-caved-in bedframe. He gingerly took a seat on the mattress, cringing when it crackled. He did not need to know what was on this.
"Eddie?" he called, tapping on the flaky painted wood.
The shitheads crowded in, and Mike murmured. "What the fuck is he doing?"
Steve ignored him. "Eddie, come on, I need your help."
Something tall, dark, and lanky slid out from under the bed, and all the kids jumped back in fright, raising their various weapons. Steve leapt to get in front of them, raising his hands as a shield. "Chill! Calm down, this is Eddie!"
Eddie shrank into his human form, draping himself over Steve. "You had to summon me to the nastiest bed in Indiana? Really, Steve?"
Steve shrugged. "This was the closest one. We need your help, Eds."
"We?" He focused on the Party. "Well, these must be the infamous buttheads." Eddie slid into the shadows and reappeared behind the Party, inspecting them. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, right?" he said, pointing at each one as he said their names.
"What the fuck are you?" Dustin asked.
Suddenly Eddie was under Steve's arm, wrapping a hand around his waist. "I'm Steve's monster under the bed." he said. "I'm just... friendlier with Steve than most of the monsters I work with."
Steve rolled his eyes. "You can tell him you're my boyfriend, they know I'm bi." He kissed Eddie on the cheek.
The kids all broke into gasps, except for Max, who fake gagged. "Don't be gross!" she yelled. "Demogorgon outside, remember?"
"Ah, right." Steve said. "Eds, can you-"
"On it." Eddie kissed Steve. "I'll be back."
The kids watched Eddie melt into shadows, then wheeled on Steve. "Steven Don't-Know-Your-Middle-Name Harrington," Dustin said. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
edit: i did not expect this response to the short little thing that took me 30 mins max at 2am!! i’m planning on rewriting it and turning it into a full length fic, so i’ll come back and edit this with the link!
edit #2: if there’s anything you guys want to see in the full length version of this please let me know!! i’m trying my best to make it a slowburn which is horrid for my adhd so let me know if there’s anything you want!!
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andvys · 6 months
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mutual pining, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of cheating (not on reader), mentions of past stancy, jealous!Steve, slightly mean!Steve (kinda?), smut smut smut, bathroom sex, car sex, fingering, squirting. I like to picture Jacob as Drew Starkey hehe
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve had never handled his jealousy very well, but being jealous over you, brings out a new side in him. He would do anything to keep you, anything.
Word count: 17.4k+
Author's note: I've been waiting for this chapter since forever, jealous men are always my jam, and @hellfire--cult took these ideas to a whole new level, enjoy this filthy chapter. This one is for all my Steve girlies who haven't given up on me after my last story ♡ Roe, I should grant you a thousand wishes at this point, you keep me so hyped for this story. Also this chapter wouldn't have been this good without you, don't even try to fight me
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
Nancy’s brows are furrowed in concentration, her pink lips pursed as she looks through the many dresses to find the perfect one, her curly hair is pulled up into a bun, held together by a white scrunchie with pink polka dots, she’s wearing one of the outfits she had gotten on your last shopping trip together, this is only your second time, but it’s fun, you like hanging out with her. 
You drove to Indianapolis since Hawkins doesn’t have all too many clothing stores, especially after the ‘fire’ at the mall, you prefer it here anyways, the big city has much more to offer than the small town. 
“What do you think of this one?” Nancy asks as she shows you the yellow sundress. 
You tilt your head, pressing your lips together as you eye it, not quite liking the way too bright color. You walk around the clothing rack to get to the other side, holding the clothing items that you threw over your forearm a little tighter as you take in the different colors of the dress she’s still holding up. 
“Mmm… No, maybe the blue one, Nancy?” You ask, as you point your finger at the baby blue color, when your eyes widen as you catch sight of the purple one, “or, the purple one! That one would look cute, it matches the color of your eyeshadow!” 
She smiles at you, nodding excitedly. She puts the yellow dress on the rack, and looks through the purple ones to find her size. 
“But you should go for the yellow one if you like it more.” 
She shakes her head, looking back at you, “no, I trust your judgment,” she smiles and picks out the dress, “besides, this color is way cuter.” 
You nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “yeah, it’ll look amazing on you.” 
Her dimples show and her eyes light up a little. 
Nancy has been nothing but kind and sweet to you, and you can’t help but feel guilt and regret growing inside of you for the way you once felt about her. 
You weren’t only jealous of her because she had Steve, you also hated her for having him, and you’d spent your shared classes with her, staring at her and comparing yourself to the girl he loved so dearly – the girl he still loves. You were never rude to her or mean, you never glared at her or threw comments at her the way other girls did, after Steve had humiliated her in front of the whole town, despite your feelings for him, you did feel disappointed for what he had done, even when you didn’t even like her, at that time. 
“You should try this one on!” Nancy pulls you out of your thoughts, a grin on her face as she holds up a black dress – a daring black dress. It’s short and flowy, the straps are thin, it’s  low cut with a dainty bow on the front, the back very exposed. “You could wear this one to Vickie’s party.”
A smile tugs at your lips, you step forward and slowly reach your hands out to take it from her. 
“You will look hot in it,” Nancy wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging her shoulder against yours as she brushes past you to look for more dresses, “I’m sure I won’t be the only one who thinks that,” she says in a sing-song voice. 
Nancy had been very persistent in trying to get you to go on dates. The last time you went out together, the Barista at your local coffee shop had put his number on your takeaway cup after giving you the order for free. She tried to convince you to give him a call, gushing over how sweet he was to you and how he looked at you, and yeah, he was sweet, he was very good looking too, and maybe you would’ve given him a call if things were still the same they were months before this. Yeah, you would’ve definitely given him a call, but only to forget about the certain someone who woke up in your bed this morning. Whose bed you will go to sleep in tonight. 
As you stare at the dress, all that you can think about is Steve, and how he will react to seeing you in this. 
Will he think that you’re pretty? 
Will you look irresistible to him?
Will he want to tear it off of you? 
After all, he does like your dresses, your sundresses especially, you see the way his eyes darken whenever you step into his house with a new one on your body, like he is ready to rip it to shreds and devour you for the next few hours or so, and he usually does, sometimes he doesn’t even take it off, and only pushes it aside, bunching it around your waist.
This sundress is by far more revealing than any of the other ones you have worn before. Excitement bubbles in your stomach as you think of his reaction to it. 
You are definitely getting it. 
After taking forever to pick out what clothes to keep in the dressing room, you both make your way out of the store with full bags, stuffed with new summer clothes. You stroll around town for a while, looking for new jewelry and shoes to go with the dresses you both bought. 
You never realized just how much you missed having a girl friend to do these things with, until you sit down at a cute café to eat some late lunch. It’s something you always used to do with your childhood best friend, that you always try not to think of, too painful are the memories of Chrissy and how you couldn’t be there for her, how you couldn’t save her. You always wondered if things would have gone differently had you both not drifted apart the way you did when you both went separate ways.
But it’s no use to overthink about it, you won’t ever find out. 
“Funny how we’re shopping for clothes, when a few weeks back we were fighting for our lives against something the whole world doesn’t even know about,” Nancy says as she looks over the menu. 
“Yeah,” you nod with wide eyes, glancing up from your own menu to look at her, you realize that you never asked how she got involved in all of it, in the first place. 
You clear your throat, “I never asked… how did you get involved?” 
She raises her brows at your question, taking a deep breath before she puts down the menu. 
“I–It was when Barb went missing, right after Will… What the police said about her wasn’t right, I knew my Barb, so I looked into it all, and I dragged Jonathan in with me because he was looking for his brother, only to find out that my brother and all of his friends were in it too…” She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. 
You laugh a little, shaking your head. 
A shiver runs down your spine as you think of how long it had all been going on in the shadows, how long you had been unaware of the Upside Down and the existence of monsters, how children were involved in something they shouldn’t have been. 
“And then, poor Steve… He showed up at Jonathan’s place when we tried to lure in the Demogorgon, he almost ran off… but he came right back to fight him with us.” 
You know all about it, Steve told you how he fought the Demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan, how he had been dragged into it all by accident, how he helped Dustin find Dart, how he protected the kids and climbed into the tunnel after getting beaten by Billy. 
You know most of what happened, not only from Steve, but also from Robin, but you feel intrigued, you want to know more… from her.
Something flashes in her eyes, a look of guilt, a look of regret. 
You know exactly what she’s thinking about, and you know that you shouldn’t bring this up, but your curiosity gets the best of you. 
“I-I was at Tina’s Halloween party.” 
Nancy winces at that, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your words, just… regretful of the memories that night brings her. 
You remember the night just as well as she does. Steve had bumped into you after he rushed out of the bathroom you didn’t even know he was in with Nancy, he glared at you and nudged your shoulder harshly, he rudely told you to move out of his way and murmured some incoherent curse word at you. 
You remember how deflected you felt, all night you had avoided him only to bump into him in his worst moment. 
Everyone knows what happened that night, not in full detail, but it doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened between King Steve and his girlfriend after he had stormed out of the house without her, and she left with Jonathan instead. 
Word traveled around, rumors circulated, but you didn’t listen to them, it wasn’t any of your business, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened anyways. Just as Steve and Nancy’s relationship ended, she showed up to school, holding hands with Jonathan. Clearly, something happened between them long before her relationship with Steve had ended. 
Steve hated you, but your heart broke for him still. 
It was so very obvious how much he loved her, and you can imagine how much it hurt when she cheated on him, and left him and his heart in shambles. 
“I-I will never forgive myself for it. No matter if– he did forgive me. I was horrible to him, no amount of apologies can take away the guilt I will forever feel.”
“W-What happened?” You ask nervously, not wanting to overstep but still feeling the curiosity tugging harshly in your chest. 
She sighs, looking around the bustling street before her eyes move back to yours. 
“I-I always blamed him for what happened to Barb, I should’ve gone home with her that night, but I didn’t, even though I promised I would. I went with him, a-and the Demogorgon got her,” she explains, shaking her head a little as she closes her eyes, “it wasn’t Steve’s fault, not at all, but I-I blamed him and every time I looked at him, I just thought about her and what happened to her and how things would’ve gone differently if I didn’t leave her that night, if I didn’t went with Steve.” 
You dig your nails into your palms, swallowing harshly as you watch her. 
“He was good to me, he was there for me, b-but I couldn’t stand him sometimes, and how he tried to act like everything was normal, when it wasn’t.” 
The feeling of irritation sparks inside of your chest, crawling into your bloodstream. 
“And then, the Halloween party… I just, I was still grieving and I was angry, I let it all out on him, I should’ve handled things differently, I shouldn’t have been so harsh but… I-I called him bullshit,” she confesses to you, scrunching up her nose as she cringes at her own self, “and then I confessed my true feelings for him and our relationship.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat, the anger that you are holding back after those leave her mouth. Bullshit. 
How could she do that to him? 
How could she hurt him the way that she did? 
How could she call him that?  
You can tell that it takes a weight off her shoulders, that it’s something she hasn’t talked about since it happened, not to Robin, not even to Jonathan, because after these words leave her mouth, she takes a deep breath, and her body relaxes as she leans back in her seat. 
Her face is edged with shame, but also with relief to finally be able to let it out. 
And you try, you really try to hide your own feelings, the anger, the hurt that you feel for the man that you hold so dearly in your heart. 
You feel thankful for the waiter who interrupts your thoughts, he places the drinks that you ordered on the table, and reaches for his notepad, taking Nancy’s food order first. 
You take a sip of your iced tea and you watch her for a moment, reminding yourself of how long ago it was, how much she changed, how much he changed, how it’s none of your business, how you shouldn’t feel angry at her, even when she’s the one who hurt him, when she’s the one he still wants, despite what she did. 
He would take her back in a heartbeat if she came back to him, and the thought breaks your heart. 
But you can’t help but keep dancing around the topic, so after the waiter takes your order and leaves, you ask her something you’ve been wondering about for weeks now. 
“Do you… regret it? Do you sometimes wish that things between you went differently?” 
She leans her elbows on the table, placing the straw between her lips, she takes a sip of her drink before she leans back again. 
“The only thing I regret is how I led him on, I wish I could go back, and lay it all out on him in a different way… Explain to him why… I didn’t feel that for him, give him a reason instead of making him think that he’s damaged.” 
She cared about him, you can see it in her eyes, you can hear it in her voice. She cared, even if only poorly. 
“I see,” you nod, trying not to sigh. “And… well– when the whole thing with Vecna…” You pause as you feel the weight on your chest crushing you with nervousness. 
She tilts her head at you, “what?” 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, you lick your lips as you look around, watching the people in the busy street across the café for a moment, before you return your gaze to her. 
“Well… It was noticeable you know… and then… you two weren’t exactly quiet in the RV,” you mumble, trying not to sound bitter as the day catches up to you, what Steve had said to Nancy, how he looked at her, how she looked at him – and the rude things he said about you before the white picket fence conversation came up. 
Her eyes widen a little, cheeks blushing a deep red as she looks down sheepishly. 
You don’t know what you had expected, but you certainly didn’t wait for her to blush, it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably. 
“I–I was just hurt because of Jonathan. Feelings are cunning, evil… I was angry, and I think my heart and mind looked for where I could find comfort.” 
Oh, how ugly the feeling in your chest now is, how bitter the taste on your tongue is, how the sweetness of your drink does nothing to make it better, because you know, you know that you wouldn’t be sitting here now if Jonathan didn’t come back, you wouldn’t wake up in Steve’s bed or fall asleep in his arms. 
Because she would be the one.
You knit your brows together as you stare at her, “but Steve–”
“I know but… I think it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”
You physically have to restrain yourself from clenching your jaw or rolling your eyes. So, you look away for a moment, staring into a blank space as you try to calm your breathing. 
Heat of the moment. 
You want to scoff and laugh at her words, because telling your ex-girlfriend that you want to have six kids with her is totally, a heat of the moment kind of thing, right. 
You’re very well aware of the jealousy that is boiling inside of you, worsening every passing second, and yet, you can’t help but want to fuel the fire even more, and find out what she would’ve done if she needed more comfort. 
So when you look at her back, you ask, “so… if you were still hurt and Jonathan didn’t come back…?”
You see the way she freezes, the way she hesitates, the way she takes way too long to answer your question. 
“I-I don’t think that I would’ve been with Steve again… Even if my urges and desires told me to… That’s the only thing they were… desires or… attractions. I wouldn’t want to hurt him again and give him the idea that there’d be a chance for a future,” she sighs, shaking her head, “I’m not the one. I’m not the woman for the future of his.” 
You don’t know whether to feel sad for Steve or yourself. 
She is that woman. 
She is the one, the only one that he wants in that way, so why is she denying it? 
The question lingers in your mind and you can’t help but wonder, what would happen if she stopped denying it? If her feelings were more than just desire after all? If she came back to him? 
There is no doubt about what he would do. 
You’d be nothing but a faint memory the moment she’d come back. 
You’d no longer occupy her space in his bed. 
You’d no longer be the one he’d kiss, touch, feel. 
And you, you would step aside without a moment of hesitation, because despite your feelings for him, you would want him to be happy, and you know that he would never get that with you. 
“Besides, I don’t want to be. Steve was my first boyfriend, puppy love,” she chuckles. “It’s different with Jonathan, I want him in my future, a-and I’d honestly take any future with him,” she says, as a soft smile creeps on her face, “I didn’t love Steve but, I love him,” she says truthfully and honestly. 
She isn’t someone you have to worry about. 
She isn’t someone who will take your temporary space, at least not now, not anymore. 
But you still can’t find peace within you after this conversation, you can’t push aside the thoughts of him, of how much he still wants her, of how much he still loves her, of how much he wishes to be with her again, and it upsets you, even when it shouldn’t. 
So, when you come home, you throw your bags on the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, you pick up the telephone and you call him, coming up with some weak excuse as to why you can’t see him tonight. 
You want to see him, but you wouldn’t be able to control your feelings, you wouldn’t be able to hide the pain in your eyes. If Nancy wasn’t with Jonathan, she would be with Steve, and he would choose her, then and now. 
You heard the sigh on the other end, the disappointed ‘okay… bye, Blondie.’ before you hung up the phone abruptly. 
You want him, you want to be with him, you want to feel his touch, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, and yet, you don’t at the same time, because right now, it would just hurt too much. 
You need to calm your anxious thoughts, or you will give yourself away completely. 
-
Two days. 
It’s been two whole days since Steve had last seen you, and both his mind and his body were going crazy over the lack of you. 
When you had called him on Wednesday evening, he was already waiting for you, giddy and excited for another night with you, but when you announced that you wouldn’t come, he felt deflected, a little crushed even, but he understood, you sounded tired and like you needed your rest, so he didn’t even try to convince you to let him come see you. 
But the next day, there was no trace of you either, you didn’t call, you didn’t visit him at work, you didn’t come over, and when he tried to call you, you didn’t pick up the phone, you also weren’t home, your car wasn’t in your driveway, you were gone. And it made him feel… weird. 
Because where were you? 
You had never done anything like this before, always eager and ready for him, but never this. 
He craved you so terribly, he wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice, to feel your touch, to feel your body beneath his. 
He longed for you, and two days away from you, only showed him just how much of a hold you have over him. 
The past two days went by so slowly, it was almost agonizing – just like the terrible music that blasts through Vickie’s house as more and more strangers make their way into her home, filling the empty spaces. 
With his back against the wall, Steve stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored expression on his face as he nods along to Eddie’s rambling about some band he had never even heard the name of, occasionally putting on his meanest face to glare at the people who give Eddie dirty looks. He can’t stand them. 
He takes a sip of his coke, looking around the crowded room in search of you. 
He knows you’re here, but he has yet to see you. 
You came with Eddie, but while the latter instantly came to find him, you apparently left to find Robin, who he hasn’t seen in a while either. 
He has been here for at least two hours now, and he is beginning to grow restless, wanting to just push himself away from the wall and go find you. 
“--And I can’t wait to see them live, man! No more headbanging in my room,” Eddie laughs as he sips on his beer. “Judas Priest is sick! You gotta come with us, I’m sure Gareth won’t mind.” 
“Mmm.” Steve nods, glancing at Eddie with a plastered smile on his face, he feels a bit bad for not listening to him, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, he continues talking.
Steve cranes his neck, looking into the kitchen, then into the hallway, and out into the backyard, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but all he sees are people he doesn’t care about. 
The music is starting to give him a headache, and the smell of liquor and weed is beginning to make him feel hazy. He's not drinking, he’s got other plans that hopefully won’t be canceled tonight but the more time passes, and there is still no trace of you, his hope is beginning to dwindle, because a part of him starts to believe that you are doing this on purpose, not showing yourself to him. 
Are you avoiding him? 
The thought makes his chest ache weirdly, a feeling that he can’t even describe floods through his veins. 
He doesn’t want you to avoid him, he doesn’t want you to stay away from him, he doesn’t want you to get bored of him. 
“I got Robin to listen to my mixtape, you’re next, I’m telling you, you’re gonna be a metalhead in no time,” Eddie chuckles, bumping his shoulder into his, he pulls Steve out of his thoughts. 
“Huh?” Steve furrows his brows at him before a forced laugh falls from his lips, “y-yeah, sure.”
Eddie snorts, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a single word he just said and still agreed. A smirk tugs at his lips, he tilts his head, “so, you’re gonna listen to it?” 
Steve nods, pursing his lips as he scratches the back of his neck. 
“Promise?” Eddie asks, almost cackling.
“Yeah, promise,” Steve shrugs. 
Eddie shakes his head, bringing his beer up to his lips, “you’re gonna regret that,” he murmurs against the glass before he takes a sip. 
Steve hates the music Eddie listens to, he’s hated every song he has shown him so far, but Eddie will take that promise in satisfaction, knowing that Steve never breaks any of his promises. 
Eddie takes a look around the room, recognizing a few people from school, some of whom have already graduated the year before. The guy by the snack table is the one who catches his attention the most, he squints his eyes as he takes a better look at him – tall, dark blond, lean, the gold ring that he always wore on his middle finger, still in place. Jacob Leeney. 
He hasn’t seen him since last year when Jacob was back from college for the weekend, the same weekend you made this guy lucky. 
He wants to make a joke to Steve about it, knowing that he hates the football captain’s guts, when from the corner of his eye, he notices how Steve stands up straighter. 
Every hope that began to dwindle, comes back in a rush when Steve sees you for the first time in two days. 
You walk into the room with a drink in your hand, a smile on your lips that grows brighter when your eyes lock with his. 
His own eyes light up at the sight of you, something in his chest swells with a feeling he grew unfamiliar to. His lips curl into a smile as he stares at your face for the longest time, before he lets his eyes roam your body, the exposed skin that isn’t covered by the pretty dress that you’re wearing, begging for his attention, begging to be marked up by his lips and to be touched by his hands.  
If only he could look into his own reflection to see just how awestruck he looks at the sight of you, how you lit up the whole room for him with your presence. If only he was focused on the beating of his heart or the fluttering in his stomach, the butterflies he thought were long gone, rising back up and filling him with life. 
Your skin is glowing beneath the dim fairy lights, your glossy lips that he craves to feel on his own, looking even more kissable than usual, and he already begins to count down the second until he can actually feel them. 
You start making your way over to him, the platform heels that you’re wearing making you look taller than you are. 
Steve licks his lips, having to fight the urge to just meet you halfway, throw you over his shoulder and get the hell out of here so he can have you all to himself. 
Your eyes are locked with his, a blush creeps up on your face and you grow flustered beneath his stare, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you raise your hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear – good, nothing changed in those two days. 
His excitement grows, the closer you get, he has nearly all forgotten about his friend next to him, about the other people in this room, but the reminder that it’s not just you and him in this room, catches up quickly, when the smile falls from your lips and your eyebrows furrow as a hand on your upper arm stops you, not enough to startle you, but enough to make you turn around in and look away from him. 
Steve’s own smile falls, and he straightens his back even more. 
He no longer sees your face, your expression or your reaction, but he sees him, Jacob Leeney. And the sight of him alone, is enough to turn the fire that you lit up inside of him, into raging flames. – And not because of the rivalry that was once between them, but because of what he had found out about you and the football captain not too long ago. 
Steve can’t hear what he’s saying to you, but the smile, the smirk on Jacob’s face makes his blood boil. The look in his eyes as he stares you down, making him clench his jaw. 
He pulls you into a hug, hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades, but not quite staying there, he moves it lower and lower until it rests dangerously low on your back as he hugs you for longer than necessary. 
“Damn,” Eddie mumbles from beside him, “Leeney’s about to get another best fuck of his life,” he chuckles, repeating the words that the jock had said to him months back. 
And it does little to calm Steve down. 
“I mean, unless they’ve seen each other this week before, I heard that he was back in town… a few days ago,” Eddie shrugs, watching him closely. 
He watches the way you take a step back, putting distance between you and Jacob after you pull away from the hug, but his hand lingers, not on your back anymore, but now on your elbow as he taps his fingers against your skin, talking to you with a look on his face that gives away his intentions. The sparkling in his eyes matches the one of his own, he wants you, he wants you badly. The interaction between you seems so… trusted, intimate. 
And then, Steve registers what Eddie had said to him, just now. 
A few days ago. 
Steve freezes. 
The cold shudder that runs through him, weakening the flames that just ignited. 
Is that why you canceled your plans with him?  
Is he the reason why you haven’t called? 
Did you stand him up for Jacob?
Were you with him? 
Did you let him kiss you? 
Did you let him touch you?
Did you forget all about him? 
He can’t decipher his own emotions at this very moment, too many are running through him, anger, frustrations… and a very ugly emotion that he won’t admit to feeling. 
He takes a deep breath, unable to hide the frown on his face as he watches you. 
Steve knew it, he knew that his own rule would come to haunt him, and he suddenly feels a deep regret for suggesting the inclusivity that allows you to see other people, he doesn’t want you to do that, he doesn’t want you to see other people, he wants to be the only one for you. 
He is watching you, so closely, so intensely, glaring at the touchy man in front of you, like he’s ready to light him up with his own eyes for putting his hands on places only he should be allowed to touch. 
Eddie slaps his shoulder, “I’ll be right back,” he announces before he scurries away from Steve who refuses to tear his eyes off of you.
He continues to watch you like a hawk, eyes not straying away from you and the man before you, and despite the intensity in his gaze, he is blind to your reactions, to the subtle, tiny steps you take to put distance between you and Jacob. All that Steve can see is the burning red that flashes in his eyes every time he touches you.
He sees the way your shoulders shake from laughter, the way you brush your hair back as you tilt your head up to look at him. 
And the more time passes as you stand across the room, spending time with someone who isn’t him, he begins to grow impatient, restless. 
You should be here, with him, by his side. 
And he wants to show you that the only one you need is him. So, without a second of hesitation, he slams his drink on the table, and he lets his feet carry him over to you, no longer wanting to stand there and watch how someone else might steal you away from him, he won’t let it happen. 
He let it happen with Nancy, he probably would’ve let it happen again if he was still with her, if this was her with Jonathan in front of him, he would’ve looked the other way, despite the aching in his chest.  
But you aren’t Nancy, and his feelings, his reactions, his action that he’s about to take, didn’t fully sink in yet. 
Once he is in earshot, Steve hears Jacob’s annoying, flirty voice. 
“You’re the prettiest girl at this party.” 
Your giggle follows, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl – if he wasn’t so driven by jealousy, and blinded by anger, he would’ve heard how fake it sounded.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” 
Jacob chuckles, opening his mouth to speak, to throw some lame pick up line at you, probably. 
But Steve doesn’t let him. Stepping up beside you, he places his hand on your back first, before he slides it down to your waist, gripping it tightly. The feeling of your body beneath his palm, your warmth and the way you melt into his touch after you turn and tilt your head to look at him, makes his stomach flutter pleasantly. 
You step closer to him, relaxing further when he squeezes you with his large hand, though your eyes are wide and your lips are parted as you stare at him. 
Right now, he can’t even find it in himself to care that your friends could see the intimacy between you and him, all he cares about is you and dragging you away so he can finally have you all to himself. 
“Can I talk to you?” He asks, calmly. 
Your wide eyes spark with curiosity as they look into his own, your glossy lips parting further for him as you come up with words, only to be cut off by Jacob.
“Oh hello, Harrington, long time no see!” The jock grins.
Steve clenches his jaw, but still turns to face him, biting back the distaste on his tongue, he nods at him, “yeah, yeah man, I’ll take her for a minute, okay?” He mumbles with squinted eyes and a fake smile on his lips as he points to you. 
Before the blond can even respond, Steve’s hand leaves your waist, and moves over to your wrist. He grabs your much smaller hand and holds it tightly, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you away and begins to walk, basically dragging you out of the room, and you don’t protest, you follow him, without a single word, slamming your drink on the counter on the way out.
You both walk into the crowded hallway, and he pulls you closer to him when you pass by a group of guys who are talking rather loudly. He pushes you towards the stairs, bringing your hand up a little as he gets behind you.
He doesn’t even bother to look out for your friends, they aren’t on his mind right now and he finds himself not caring about who could see you together. He also doesn’t care about one of his many rules that he is about to break when he pushes you into an empty bathroom. 
You switch the light on and let go of his hand when you walk in further. 
Steve turns around to close and lock the door, his fingers linger on the handle as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 
“What’s wrong, did something happen?” You ask. 
He opens his eyes again and turns around to face you, he raises his hand up, running it through his styled hair, he licks his lips as he lets his eyes roam your body for a second, taking a better look at the dress he hasn’t seen on you before, it must be new. 
The light that shines on you from the ceiling is golden, making your soft skin glow, making it look even more delicate, more desirable. Your chest rises up and down heavily, a worried expression etched in your beautiful features as you stare at him with furrowed brows. Your pouty lips parted. 
Can he blame Jacob for trying to go after you? Not really. 
“Nope, nothing happened,” he mumbles as he makes his way over to you. 
You shake your head a little, frowning, “then why–”
He practically lurches forward, cupping your cheeks, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, the way he wanted to, all night. 
You squeal in surprise, a noise that only fuels his lust even more, prompting him to deepen the kiss roughly. He can taste the sweetness of rum and pepsi on your lips, the strawberry from your gloss, he can taste you, he can smell the intoxicating scent of your perfume, he can feel your arms around his shoulders now as you start moving your lips against his, picking up the pace to match the speed of his own. 
He moans when your fingers get lost in his hair and your nails graze his scalp as you try to pull him closer against you. 
He licks your bottom lip, parting it with his tongue so he can slip it into your mouth. You let him. His palm slides down to your jaw, he holds it there for a moment as his other hand moves down to your hip, gripping it tightly as he presses you against the counter behind you, fingers now playing with the flimsy material of your sundress. 
A needy moan blesses his ears, the delicious sound rushing to his cock, making it stir in his pants that are now getting way too tight around his groin. 
You place your hand on the back of his neck as you place your other on his chest, pressing yourself further against him as you kiss him with whimpers and a neediness that he thought only he was feeling. 
God, he missed you.
But, did you miss him? 
Did your lips touch someone else’s when you weren’t with him, where you were supposed to be? 
The flames that are still raging inside of him, sparking a new kind of anger in him at the thought of it, it prompts him to do something that he has never done before – he bites your bottom lip, making you wince and moan at the pain. 
He pinches your chin between his fingers, pulling away from the kiss to look at you. 
With furrowed brows, you open your eyes to look at him, leaning back in to steal a kiss, but he keeps you in place, ignoring the whine that falls from your lips.
“Jacob Leeney, huh?” He mutters, instantly clenching his jaw after saying that name out loud. “Why did you talk to him, hm?” 
Steve moves his hand under your dress. 
“W-What?” You ask, shakily. “He was just talking to me about college.”
Right. That is the reason why he looked at you like he was ready to tear your dress off and devour you, right then and there. 
“Right,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth in anger. 
You stare at him with a frown on your face, tilting your head a little as you reach your hand up to wrap it around his wrist. And then, realization flashes in your eyes and your lips twitch a little. 
“You plan on fucking him tonight, Blondie?” He sneers, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. 
You raise your eyebrows, pressing your lips together, he watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow. 
The silence between you is nearly deafening, he can feel your breath on his thumb as he still holds your chin, he waits for you to answer his question.
Your eyes crinkle, and your lips curl into a smile before you suddenly burst into giggles, making his irritation feel worse than before. 
Steve’s muscles tense up and he bites the insides of his cheeks, pressing his knee in between your thighs, he holds you tighter. 
“Why are you laughing, huh?” He asks, as he leans closer to you, cupping your jaw again, he tilts your head to the side, making your giggles die down the moment he latches his lips onto your neck. 
You suck in a sharp breath. 
“Mmm, nothing,” you murmur, “w-what if I am? What if I do plan on fucking him?” 
Steve has to hold back to growl, threatening to escape as he presses another rough kiss to your neck, his fingers now digging deeper into your hip. 
“Well, I have a little priority here, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin. 
“Wasn’t it you… the one who said no exclusivity, Steve?” 
His breath stopped for a moment, regret gnawing up in his throat like vile. He wants to back out of that rule… but you are not his, so he waters it down. 
“New rule then, Blondie,” he mumbles, not stopping with the kisses on your neck, “we leave with each other when we are at the same place. So, meaning today it’s me.” 
You furrow your eyebrows at his words, questions already lingering in your mind. 
You would always choose Steve. 
There is no one else you would go home with. 
And you can’t help but want him to know, but you don’t get to tell him because just as you open your mouth, Steve starts kissing your neck differently, intensely, roughly. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and blessing your delicate skin with hickeys as though he wants to show everyone that you’re his, that you belong to him. 
And you do, you do belong to him, but he doesn’t know it. 
He doesn’t know that your heart is his, that your mind and body is in his possession. 
He doesn’t know how crazy you go over his touches, how your heart flutters at every slightest touch of his, how weak and vulnerable you feel when he holds you, how no one else could ever come close to make you feel the things that he can make you feel. 
“How many drinks did you have, Blondie?” 
“J-Just half of the drink I left downstairs,” you say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck. 
“Just that?” He asks, “you’re not drunk, are you?” 
You shake your head quickly, “no, not at all.” 
“Good,” he nods. 
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers on your ruined panties, he pushes them aside and slips his long fingers through your folds, dipping them inside of you before he pulls them back out to tease your clit, digits now coated with your slick. 
You jerk a little, wrapping your arm around him so you can hold onto him, a needy moan escapes your mouth. 
You could have had this on Wednesday night, you could have had this last night, but you were too busy worrying about something that filled your heart with pain. 
“S-Steve!” 
He gets lost in his feelings, lost in the rage, in the possessiveness and the urge to show you that he should be the only one for you. His teeth graze your neck, his lips suck harshly on your skin as he spreads you open with two fingers. 
You mewl when he starts pumping them inside of you, in and out, deeply and slowly at first. 
“Who are you so wet for, huh?” He asks, pulling away just enough so he can look at the marks he left, appreciating the sight in front of him for a second, before he pulls your face towards him, gripping your chin tighter than before, his thumb now lingering on your bottom lip. “Tell me, Blondie” 
You open your eyes, revealing to him just how dark they are, how much lust lingers in them. 
“You, Stevie! Just you!” You whine needily before you wrap your lips around his thumb, catching him off guard, once again. You swirl your tongue around it, looking into his hazel eyes as you start sucking, you watch the way they widen and darken, the tension in his jaw now leaving as he is only focused on this, on you. 
“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, picking up the pace of his fingers, he drags them out of you and slams them back in, nearly moaning himself when he listens to the squelching noises as he finger-fucks you, “just me?” 
Your jaw drops and you throw your head back, letting go of him to hold onto the edges of the counter, he has got you pressed against at. You nod quickly, “yes, yes! Just you, only you!” You ramble as you squeeze your eyes shut again, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside of you. 
“Good.” 
Steve can feel how you clench around him, how you’re already so close even though he didn’t even get started yet. He leans in to peck your lips as he curls his fingers inside of you, and he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it slowly. 
He feels himself growing harder – the feeling of your tight, wet walls around his fingers being too much, along with the needy moans that keep falling from your pretty lips. 
He stares at you, watching the way your nipples poke through the thin material of your dress – of course, you’re not wearing a bra. You bite your lip, your brows are knit together, and your head falls to the side as you let yourself get lost in the feeling he provides you with. 
Not Jacob, definitely not Jacob. 
The jock could never make you feel this, he is so sure of it, and yet, Steve can’t shake the thoughts of you and him together. 
Would you be this wet for him too? 
Would you moan so prettily for him? 
Would you be so needy for him? 
The anger just won’t leave him, it refuses to, it has him in its tightest grip, urging him to prove something to you. 
His chest heaves up and down heavily, his darkened eyes are nearly black now. 
You’re close, he can feel that you are with the way you’re clenching around him, but he doesn’t let you cum like this tonight, so he pulls his fingers out of you. 
Your eyes shoot open and your lips part as you’re about to protest, pouting at him. He grabs your hips with both of his hands, turning you around abruptly, he bends you over the counter and presses himself against you, and he chuckles darkly when you gasp at his action. 
Steve reaches for the hem of your dress and he flips it over, exposing your ass to him and the lacy thong you’re wearing, he groans at the sight of it, unable to hold back, he rears his hand back before he smacks his large palm against your skin, slapping your ass harshly. 
Steve has never, never treated a girl roughly before, not any of his hookups, not Nancy, but then again, he never had this much fun with any of them. Letting go of his inhibitions, taking what he wants for once, and the fact that you let him, and even love it, makes him go feral.
But as the realization sinks in of what he had done, his eyes widen as fear rushes through him, worried that he had gone too far, but you ease his mind with the filthy whimper that sounds through the room as you press your ass against his dick, rubbing it against him as though you’re asking for more. 
He can’t help but chuckle, the shock and the fear vanishing just as quick as it came. 
“Oh, you like that, Blondie?” He asks as he presses his palm against your ass, this time not slapping it, but grabbing it roughly, making you whine again. “Of course you fucking do,” he murmurs as he lets go, only to smack you once more, making you gasp his name in pleasure. 
“Please!” 
He looks at your reflection in the mirror, needy eyes meeting his. 
“Please what?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans, he reaches for the condom in his back pocket – mentally thanking his needy self for placing one there before he left his house, in hopes that he would get this. 
“Please, fuck me!” 
He pushes his jeans and boxers down, just enough to free himself, not wasting any more time, he rips apart the foil and throws the empty packet on the ground, making quick work of rolling the condom over his length. With his chin against his chest, he looks down, stroking his dick for good measure, his spit curl falls in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way, he looks up through hooded eyes, glancing at you through the mirror, he almost wants to chuckle at the desperation in your eyes, but it gets stuck in his throat when you push your ass back against his dick, whining. 
His stomach flutters seeing you so desperate for no one but him. 
He grabs your hip with his left hand, pressing himself against you, he teases both you and himself by slipping his shaft through your wet folds, he watches the way you look at him, begging for more with your eyes as you push yourself up a little. 
He presses his palm against your lower back, pushing you down so your chest is flush against the marble counter, he lines up with your entrance and pushes inside of you slowly. Waves of pleasure rush through him in an instant. You scrunch your face up, lips parting as a sigh escapes you.  
You throw your hand back, reaching for his forearm, you grab it tightly as you shut your eyes and drop your head a little, your hair falls in front of your face, hiding all your pretty features.
Steve looks down, watching his cock disappear into your weeping pussy. 
“You take me so well, holy shit,” he murmurs under his breath. And it was the truth, you take him like no other, making you the most addictive.
He sinks into you, deeper and deeper, stretching you out and splitting you open, the tension inside of him grows and his heartbeat increases. He pulls out again, watching the way the condom around him glistens with your slick – how he wishes that he could feel you without it. He slams back in, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He starts thrusting, in and out, deeply and slowly at first, but with an intensity that makes you open your eyes again.
“Steve!” 
“That’s right,” He grunts, reaching his hand forward, he grabs your hair and tilts your head back up, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he moves his hips faster, quickening his pace until he’s pounding you. “Look at who’s fucking you right now, Blondie.” 
The loudest moan falls from your lips, and you instantly bring your hand up to cup your mouth, panic flashing in your lust filled eyes. Despite the loud music, you are scared that someone might hear you, and it only prompts him to fuck you harder and rougher against the counter, holding you tighter as heat spreads in his chest – who do you want to hide from? Your friends, or Jacob? 
But while Steve worries about something that isn’t even on your mind, you are so far gone, so lost in the pleasure that you feel because of him, your insides so sensitive already, yet aching for more. You focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you, how heavenly it feels to feel him inside of you, to feel him in your stomach. 
You are so drunk on him that there is not a single thought in your brain, only him. 
No one has ever done this to you, no one has ever made you feel so weak, so submissive, so lost in the heat of the moment, no one has ever taken such control – you wouldn’t have let them, only he can have this. 
Your eyes turn glassy, rolling back as you throw your head back, your weak hand falling from your face again. 
“Yeah, as if that asshole could fuck you like this,” he grunts, letting go of your hair and moving his hand forward to cup your cheeks, “say it. Say no one can fuck you like this, Blondie, because I know it’s true.”
Your walls clench and flutter around him, a cry leaving you as he pulls your ass up a little, slamming in and out of you, hitting the spot that makes tears fall from your eyes, making him even more aroused than before. 
“Only you, Steve!” You sob as a tear spills down your cheek and onto his thumb. 
Your knees buckle and your body begins to tremble, sobs and moans turn into needy whines and whimpers, your flustered face decorated with pretty tears making his muscles tense in his stomach. 
You try to keep quiet as you press your lips together, trying to breathe calmly through your nose despite the pounding in your chest, when he suddenly changes the pace again, pounding you so hard that he knocks you forward, hitting so deep inside of your squelching pussy, that you can’t help but cry out loudly as stars blur your vision. 
“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!” 
Steve nearly busts, eyes widening at the way you chant his name so desperately. His hips stutter a little and he has to suck in a sharp breath, eyes shutting for a moment. He twitches inside of you, and it doesn’t help that you keep clenching. 
The sound of the music, of laughter and voices outside are so far away, the only thing you both hear are your moans and how wet you are as his skin slaps against yours. 
He slows down a little, enough to make you whine again, to make you move back against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. 
“F-Fuck,” Steve moans, he opens his eyes again, reaching forward, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you up and against his chest before he lets his hand travel down your stomach, he pushes your dress out of the way, and his fingers find their way to your clit. 
A high pitched moan echoes through the room, your body shakes harder and you grab his forearm tightly as he rubs circles on your sensitive nub. 
He presses his lips to your neck, moaning himself as the tension in his stomach grows bigger and bigger. He kisses your delicate skin, his mouth brushing the dark marks he left. 
You cling to him, nails grazing his skin, you press the side of your face against his, staining his cheek with your tears.
“I know, baby, I know.” 
If only he knew just how such a simple yet special word affects your heart, making it beat faster and harder in your chest, setting all your insides on fire and igniting something in you that throws you into a pit of love and glee. 
Steve had never called you this before, and you could only dream of such sweet nicknames, until now. 
Your eyes roll back again, eyelashes fluttering as you squeeze them shut completely, mouth ajar as filthy noises fall. You’d fall over if it wasn’t for his strong arms holding you up, his fingers moving so fastly on your clit, his dick so deep inside of you, his lips biting gently on your skin, all it takes is another rough thrust and your body begins to shake for a different reason, you fall apart for him, once again. 
You don’t even feel yourself drooling, you no longer feel the tears spilling down your cheeks. 
“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the spot behind it before he grabs your chin and tilts your head to the side so he can press his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft kiss as he keeps fucking you, chasing his own high. 
Steve furrows his brows, his muffled moan vibrating against your lips as he gives one last powerful thrust and spills into the condom, secretly wishing that he could spill inside of you and paint your walls white instead. 
His body relaxes after the high it had been on for the past minutes, muscles loosening, but lips still moving gently against yours. 
Both yours and his moans die down after a moment, but you’re still panting, trying to catch your breaths as you pull away from one another. You open your eyes, and look into his, the blackness slowly fading away and you see the pretty hazel color again. His tongue licks his bottom lip, eyes flickering between your own and the marks he left on your neck. 
A lazy smile appears on your face and you feign confidence as you tilt your head to the side and reach your hand up to move the spit curl away from his forehead, the tips of your fingers brushing his skin, he holds you tighter in response. 
“I didn’t think you could get so jealous, Steve,” you whisper, ‘jokingly’ but most of all, painfully to yourself.
You’d hope that he was jealous, that all of this was the result of the burning red emotion, but why would he feel jealous over you? 
Just the presence of Jacob was enough to bruise Steve’s ego. That’s all that it was.
You know he never liked the jock, and the fact that he got his hands on you first, must’ve hit a nerve. But it has nothing to do with you. Steve is not jealous of who you sleep with, he doesn’t care. He is just bruised cause he felt threatened with an ex hook-up you had, afraid of them stealing you for tonight.
Steve huffs at your words, shaking his head at you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, cursing under his breath. 
“Well, did you think I’d let him steal you away from me…?” He asks, clearing his throat as he adds, “tonight?” 
And then he looks down, not wanting to show his face, to show how jealous he really is. 
He doesn’t need you to know that. 
He slips his hand between your thighs again, adjusting your panties and putting them back in place before he fixes your dress, pushing it back down over your ass. 
Your eyes soften at his action, heart fluttering in your chest. 
It’s not the first time he does this, he always takes care of you – he cleans you up, he helps you put a shirt on your body whenever you stay over, whenever you’re too weak to move. He is good to you, gentle and soft, and that is dangerous, because despite the thoughts in your head, the logical part that tells you the truth, his actions keep putting false hope into your heart. 
You grab the counter, and on shaky feet, you step closer and hold onto it tightly, watching as he fixes himself next, throwing the condom and the discarded foil into the trash, he tucks himself back into his pants and steps towards the counter beside you to wash his hands. 
His lips are stained with your lipstick, his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed – he looks so cute like this. 
You tear your eyes away from him and finally look at your own reflection, your eyes widen and you gasp in shock – not at the mascara that runs down your face, the messy hair or just how puffy your lips are, no, this is not exactly an unusual sight to see, but the marks on your neck are, because they are so much bigger and darker than they usually are. 
You throw your hand up towards your neck and turn to face him, “what the fuck, Steve?” 
He winces, quickly drying his hands before he turns to face you, as well. Eying your hand that is covering the hickeys he left, your big eyes filled with panic. He can’t help but think you look cute like this, with your hair all messy and your lips curled into a pout. 
“H-How am I gonna hide–”
He grabs your face and pulls you into a soft kiss, just a quick peck, one that is enough to cut you off. 
“You think I’m done with you and we’re gonna go back to the party?” He chuckles, caressing your cheek as he pulls away from your puckered lips, “no, we’re leaving, Blondie.” 
You gulp at his words and squeeze your aching thighs together as excitement rises back up in you. 
“So, fix yourself and meet me downstairs,” he murmurs, placing another soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away. “I’ll wait by the front door.” 
He takes another look at your neck, hiding his satisfied smirk by turning around. He unlocks the door and opens it, leaving you alone in the bathroom as he makes his way downstairs to find Eddie or Robin, to announce that he will be driving home a very sick Blondie. 
While a smirk keeps playing on his lips, you are panicking in the bathroom, not knowing how to hide the marks he left, what lie to come up with this time if Eddie sees and asks questions again. 
You do your best to fix your hair, running your fingers through it and wiping away the mascara streaks on your cheeks, and the smudged lipstick, that you only now realize, is still on his lips, he didn’t even bother to wipe it away – what an idiot. 
You step back and take a look at your dress, smoothing it down and moving your hands back to your hair. The marks on your neck are so strong, so very visible, you’re not even sure if foundation and concealer will be able to hide this. A groan falls from your lips. 
You should do the same to him, he surely won’t fix it with makeup. 
You press your palm against your neck, testing out how it will look if you just go out like this. 
“This looks so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes. 
You pray that you won’t run into any of your friends on the way out, all you have to do is make it downstairs and to the front door. You haven’t seen much of Eddie before, and Robin is too busy with Vickie anyways. 
You take a deep breath and then you step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It’s not as crowded as it is downstairs, but there are still a few people you have to pass, as you awkwardly keep your hand on your neck, pretending to scratch it. 
You feel eyes on you, but you don’t bother to turn around to look at them, not even caring if they heard you and Steve – as long as your friends didn’t hear, you’re good. 
Your legs are shaky, and walking in your platform heels feels like a workout after Steve just railed you into oblivion, your stomach still flutters, yet feeling empty at the lack of him. 
You walk down the stairs, carefully. You hope that your knees won’t buckle. 
The party is still in full swing, some Billy Idol song blaring through the speakers as the living room is still filled with dancing people. Red solo cups are everywhere, empty bottles and cans litter the counters and tables – poor Vickie will regret throwing a party when she wakes up tomorrow morning. 
Your eyes fall on him, the smug look on his face making you huff in annoyance. Steve enjoys seeing you struggle after what he just did to you, he licks his lips as his eyes run up and down your body, they flash with amusement when they fall on your hand, you see the way his shoulders shake, he is chuckling at you as he plays with the car keys in his hand. Smug bastard. 
You roll your eyes at him, and turn away, looking around to see if any of your friends are around, but the only people you see are strangers and a few known faces from school, you sigh in relief, knowing that you won’t have to lie into Eddie’s or Robin’s face. You return your gaze to Steve whose face is suddenly no longer as smug as it was a few seconds ago, his eyes aren’t even on you anymore, but rather on someone behind you as he looks over your shoulder. 
Someone calls your name, someone who is the reason for the rage on Steve’s face that you had already seen before. 
You turn around when your name is being called again, to find Jacob walking towards you. Oh. 
You grow flustered knowing that the fucked out look on your face is so very obvious. You can’t even hide it. 
He catches up to you, and he reaches his hand out to place it on your upper arm, “hi, there you are,” he smiles, towering over you. He is tall, much taller than you, even taller than Steve. 
You greet him back, forcing a smile. 
He furrows his brows as his eyes scan your face, his smile falling a little, a frown appearing instead, “are you okay?” He asks, worriedly. “Do you feel sick?” 
You shake your head and open your mouth to speak when the words get stuck in your throat after his hand leaves your arm and comes to rest on your face instead, surprising you and angering Steve. 
“Do you need me to take you home?” He asks, caressing your cheek. 
You would have moved, but you are frozen in place as you stare at him, completely caught off guard by his action and the look in his eyes. 
“I-I…”
A different hand appears on your lower back, one that your body instantly recognizes, because your skin heats up and your chest blooms with warmth – it’s scary how well your body knows him. 
Steve pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you, “I got her, she’s in good hands, Leeney.” 
Sometimes you wish that he knew how you felt about him, how your heart nearly explodes every time he says something only a boyfriend should say – maybe then, he would take pity on you and your heart. 
You melt into his touch, the smell of his cologne is so intoxicating. 
Jacob retracts his hand, he looks between you and Steve, his shoulders slumping a little as he steps back, he looks down at you, nodding, “alright.” 
“Come on,” Steve murmurs, squeezing your waist as he begins to pull you away, wanting you away from the jock and towards the front door. 
“Bye Jacob–”
“Wait,” he rushes forward, and reaches for your hand, placing a folded note into your palm. “Here, I’m not making the same mistake again.” He gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, not waiting for your response, he steps away and takes another glance at Steve, before he turns around and leaves. 
You stare at the note in your hand, you don’t have to open it to know what’s written on the paper. 
You fail to notice the absolute rage in Steve’s eyes, how much more intense it is than before, how tense the muscles in his jaw are, how it takes everything in him not to slam you against the wall and kiss you in front of Jacob and everyone else. 
He pulls you out of the house without a single word, he grabs your hand instead as he leads you outside, he shuts the door and the sound of music and the many voices begin to fade away as you both make your way to his car, which he parked on the side of the road. 
Your heels click against the cobblestone, your hands hold tightly onto his, you’re quiet, and so is he, but a storm is raging in his mind, and everything he felt before, now feels so much worse. 
Can he keep you when there’s other people who want you just as much as he does? – And even, in different, much more intimate ways? 
He saw the way Jacob looked at you, he wasn’t only interested in another quick fuck, he wanted more, and it irritates Steve, it makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, it makes his heart clench in his chest – it shouldn’t, there is nothing more between you than this, and yet, he is scared to lose it, the little secret that you both have, he isn’t ready to let it go, he isn’t ready to let you go and watch you fall into someone else arms. 
He wants to keep you, and he will do everything to make it stay that way. 
He knows that there is only one way to show you that he is the only you will ever need. At least, for now.
He opens the passenger door and lets go of your hand so you can get inside, eying the note that is still in your other hand. He closes the door once you’re seated, and he makes his way around his BMW, when he gets inside as well, he notices the now unfolded note in your lap and the number that’s written on it. 
He grits his teeth but bites back his bitter words. 
You won’t call him, he will make sure of that. 
It’s not easy to focus on the drive when his mind is in such a whirlwind and his eyes keep glancing back at the note in your lap, that you folded back together again. 
You aren’t looking at it any longer, your eyes are focused on the road and the passing trees. 
“What do you plan to do with that number, Blondie?” He asks, unable to hold back and hide the jealousy this time. 
You narrow your eyes at him, taking a look at his hands, you see how hard he is gripping the steering wheel when you take in the sight of his knuckles. The veins in his hands nearly popped. You gulp as your eyes move along his arm, muscles that are hidden beneath the black sleeve of his shirt peeking out just a little, his cheeks are red, his jaw clenched. 
He is angry, but a part of you can see through your insecurities. 
It’s not only his ego that was bruised, it’s not only the anger that shines through, there is more, so much more. 
The jealousy that only you ever felt is lingering in his eyes. 
He is jealous. 
Steve is jealous over you. 
And there is really no reason for him to feel that way, but you can’t stop the rush of excitement and happiness that floods through your body. 
If he felt that way before he dragged you into the bathroom, over an innocent conversation, what will he do now that Jacob has made an entirely new move?
Will you get another taste of what he gave you before?
Will he call you baby again?
You’re stepping into a dangerous territory, you know it, but the thrill over it makes heat pool in your stomach. 
“I don’t know, Lego Head,” you shrug, trying to keep a straight face as you look at him, “maybe I’ll keep it… You know, for when you don’t answer your phone.” You lie as you pick the note back up. 
Steve huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. 
He rolls down the window, giving you no time to react, he snatches the note from your hand and wastes no second to throw it out onto the road, letting it get lost in the darkness. 
“Hey!” You gasp as your eyes widen. 
“Whoops, my hand slipped,” he flashes you an innocent smile as he closes the window again. 
“What if I want to call him!?”
Your question makes him grip the wheel even tighter, knuckles turning white. 
“You don’t need him,” he mumbles. 
You sit up straighter, raising your brows at him, “oh really? I don’t? Why’s that?” 
Steve can’t take it any longer, the feelings inside of him boiling over, controlling all his actions now. 
He pulls the car off the main road, and drives into the isolated wooded area that leads to a stream, a hidden part of Lovers Lake that he only ever came to when he needed to clear his head. 
He slams his foot on the brakes and turns off the car, turning off the lights and unbuckling the seatbelt, he turns to you in anger, “because you literally just said no one can fuck you like I can!” 
Your heart begins to race, goosebumps rise on your skin, and you press your palms against the leather seat beneath you. The giddiness inside of you is now so difficult to keep hidden. 
“Ah, so that should make you exclusive,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side, “okay, well, maybe he got better–”
You don’t even get to finish your sentence, you don’t get to taunt him anymore as he turns his back to you and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and rounding the car to get to you, he rips open the door on your side. 
“You don’t learn, do you?” 
“W-What?” 
“Get out.” He demands, not nicely. 
You frown at him, watching his stance and how angry he looks at you. “What the fuck–”
“Get out,” he repeats, in a much calmer yet angrier voice. 
You shiver at his command, and you take a deep breath as you unfasten your seatbelt, your heels hit the grass as you get out of the car. Steve places his hand on your back and pushes you out of the way so he can close the door before he opens the one to the backseat. He glares into your eyes, “get in.” 
Your frown transforms into a look of complete confusion as you look between his hand and the seat that he points at. 
“You’re making me change seats?”
He steps closer to you, “get the fuck inside, right now.” 
The demanding, aggressive tone in his voice doesn’t make you question him again, you swallow harshly and turn around, you place your hands on the leather seats as you crawl inside, moaning in surprise when he smacks your ass again.
He chuckles darkly behind you, “you really like that huh?” 
You glare at him over your shoulder, earning another slap to your other cheek, making you jerk and whine. 
He chuckles again and follows you inside, closing the door behind him, “noted.” 
The leather beneath you is cold, and you grip it tightly, sucking in a sharp breath, and just as you go to turn around and sit down, Steve’s strong hands grab at your hips, flipping you over and manhandling you underneath his body as he forces you to lie down on your back. He pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them, he presses his palms flat against the seat on both sides of your head. 
A shiver runs down your spine, not from fear, but from excitement, because he probably didn’t want you to realize he was jealous, but he is showing you. He is clearly showing you and you can’t help but feel absolutely happy, accomplished. 
You know that you’re in for something when you look into his eyes – you can’t even find the right words to describe the emotions that are lingering in them, but they make your inside flutter so wildly, you feel the need to clench your thighs together as he looms over you, but you can’t, he doesn’t let you. 
His nose brushes against yours, his hair falls in front of his eyes as he inches closer to you, his breath kissing your skin. 
“Has anyone ever put you in your place, Blondie?” He asks as he drums his finger along your shoulder, hooking it around the strap of your dress. 
“W-What?” You stutter, hating how weak and shaky your voice sounds. 
“I’m taking that as a no.” 
Steve drags the strap down, and he leans down to press his lips against your shoulder, “I wanted to be nice, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, “wanted to take care of you, but fuck, you leave me no choice.” 
You squirm beneath him, digging your nails into the flesh of your legs as you furrow your brows at his words. 
His lips ghost over your collarbone, his hand now pushing your dress down a little, he exposes your chest to him, and he traces the outline of your breast before his fingers pinch your nipple, making you whine again. 
“Time for you to understand–” He murmurs as he plants a kiss to your jaw, “-- that I’m the only one you need.” 
His movements are soft, his touches are gentle but to your surprise, they don’t stay that way, after a few more kisses, he flips the bottom part of your dress over, bunching it around your waist, he hooks his finger around your panties and tears them off of you, throwing them over his back, not caring where they land. His fingers trace your legs, hands finding their way to your heels, he unfastens the straps around your ankles, and takes them off before he returns his attention to where you need him the most. 
He teases you with his fingers, torturing your clit and chuckling darkly at the whines that start filling the space around you. 
Steve had been intense and rough before, but one look into his face shows you that you will get more tonight, so much more. 
He splits you open with his fingers again, sinking them into your soaked hole, he fucks you with them, he taunts you with his words and sucks more marks onto your skin, littering the other side of your neck and your chest with hickeys. He makes you see stars with the way he curls his digits inside of you and rubs your clit. 
To your surprise and confusion, he doesn’t let you cum, he pulls his fingers out and stops touching you when you’re about to fall apart, just like he did before in the bathroom. Nothing like this ever happened before. 
You don’t think anything of it at first, not when he seems desperate to fill you up in a different way. He fumbles with his pants and pushes them down, along with his boxers. He rolls a condom over his length again, one of many he has in the glove compartment because sometimes you two don’t even reach a bed when seeing each other, rushing to do it just as he did earlier, your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking, red tip. 
“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist and pulling your weakened body on top of him, you instantly reach for his shoulders, grabbing them tightly as he gives you no time to react before he makes you sink down on his cock – you don’t mind. You are so needy, so wet for him that your juices soak your inner thighs. 
But you need to feel his skin on yours, so you reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it over his head, he leans forward as you rip it off of him. You throw it on the seat and wrap your arms around his naked shoulders, pressing yourself against his hairy chest.
You are the first to start moving, rolling your hips and riding him slowly, but he isn’t satisfied with that, he wants something else, he wants more. 
Steve makes you bounce on his dick, he holds your hips harshly and uses you as though you’re a fleshlight, filling you to the brim and slamming you up and down on his dick, fucking you rather disrespectfully. 
He makes you fall forward, as your eyes shut at the roughness and the intensity. He is buried so deep inside of you, you’re not sure if you have ever felt this before. Tears blur your vision again that night, moans turn into whimpers and whimpers into cries, the pleasure so strong, so overwhelming. 
You throw your hand against the fogged up window, slamming your palm against it, leaving a handprint there for him. 
No words escape you, not even his name, the only thing you can do is fall limply against his body and hide your face in the crook of his neck as drool starts coming out of your mouth but the moment it touches his skin, Steve grabs the back of your neck and pulls you back to him again, so he can see your face. 
“Does he even get to see you like this?” He grunts, fucking up into you and watching the way you squeeze your crying eyes shut. “Drooling? Crying? I bet I’m the only one you’ve ever been this cock drunk for… aren’t I?” 
You nod your head wildly, panting and gasping as pain and pleasure mix together. He thinks it’s just physical, but there is so much more to it. You knew you would turn into this for him and just him, you’ve always known.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Steve lets go of your neck, making you fall back against him, he decides to tease you more by smacking your ass, causing you to jolt and whimper, filling him with satisfaction. 
He makes your pleasure the more unbearable, causing you to clench around him. 
And just like before, just as you’re so close to reaching your peak, he stops your movements all together, filling you with anger now, making you snap out of the haze he put you into. He stills and grabs you tightly, so you won’t move, he lifts you up and off his cock, biting back a groan. 
“W-What the fuck, Steve?” You cry out, “I-I was so close!” 
His eyes are nearly unrecognizable when he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, forcing you to look at him. The angry sight in front of you, only makes you clench around him even harder. 
“You’re not cumming until I say so, Blondie.” It was stern, but Steve had a point to make, he needs to make it happen. 
You aren’t even aware of what is going on inside of his troubled mind, you could never even guess, not even when he flips you over and throws you down under him, placing your left leg over his shoulder. 
The position is quite cramping, but you forget about any kind of pain, when he sinks back inside of you and starts pounding into you with a force that makes the stars shine brighter and your heart race faster. 
Steve is not even focused on his pleasure, despite how good you feel around him, all that he can think about is your pleasure. He gives his all, he gives everything to kill any memory of what any of your other hookups did to you, of the pleasure they made you feel, of the pleasure he once made you feel. 
He snaps his hips into yours, fucking you so deeply and roughly, making his dick ache in pleasure. 
He surely never fucked anyone this way before. He never felt this angry before.
He watches you closely, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, the way you grip the leather beneath you, nearly ripping through it with your nails as tears of pleasure stream down your face and you tilt your head to the side with furrowed brows, your tits bouncing as he slams you back and forth on the seats. 
Your moans are so loud that anyone who were to pass by, would freak out and almost faint or call the cops. 
He is not even touching your clit, not even grazing it with his fingers, not giving it any pleasure again… yet. But he feels your fluttering walls, how tight you are getting around him, how high pitched your moans are getting – you are close, so close. 
And so is he, he keeps thrusting in and out of you, not tearing his eyes off of your beautiful face as he chases his own high, roughly and deeply. Your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as he finishes into the condom, groaning as your walls grip him tightly. 
Steve pulls out of you reluctantly, stopping your pleasure once again. 
He pulls your leg off his shoulder gently and places it back on the seat, giving it a squeeze.
His chest heaves up and down, he breathes heavily as he stares at you, biting back the chuckle when your eyes shoot open and a bewildered look crosses your face, the tears in your eyes still shining brightly as you raise yourself up on your elbows, frowning angrily at him. 
“You– I’m going to fucking kill you, Steve, it’s not fair!” Your bottom lip trembles, you are clearly very frustrated with him. 
He looks down to hide the amusement on his face, taking the condom off, he ties it up and throws it on the ground, making a mental note to throw it away later on. 
Steve tugs himself back into his boxers and pulls his pants up, not bothering with his belt just yet. 
He shakes his head at you when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding yourself from him. He hooks his hands around your knees, pulling you closer against him before he tears them apart again, exposing your glistening swollen pussy to him. 
He licks his lips as he hooks your leg around his hip, holding it there as brings his other hand back to your center, he bites down on his lip, looking at you with mischief in his eyes as he delivers a slap to your clit. 
“Wha– Steve!” You gasp in surprise and if he weren’t so determined, so centered on you, he would have been surprised by his action too. 
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, using his pointer finger to tease your slit, he spreads your folds apart, and slips his middle finger and ring finger into your sopping pussy, he focuses on your face. 
Your angry features slowly relax again, mouth parting as he starts to move his fingers again, this time he does aim for your orgasm… and more. 
He moves slowly at first, rocking his fingers in and out of you, moaning himself at the noises he draws from your pussy. 
Despite the pleasure that you’re falling back into again, you grow flustered at the noises and raise your hands up to your face, covering it and hiding yourself from him, but your action only earns you another slap to your clit. 
“Uh uh,” Steve shakes his head at you, letting go of your leg, he reaches forward and grabs both of your wrists with one hand, dragging your hands away from your face, “don’t hide from me.”
“But–”
He curls his fingers into your g-spot, tearing a gasp from you. 
“No buts,” he grumbles, as he moves steadily, fingering your pussy roughly now. He angles his hand differently, the end of his palm now brushing against your aching clit every time he thrusts his fingers deeply into you. 
He shuts you up quickly, making every word, every sentence get caught in your throat. 
His left hand fondles your boobs, your waist, your stomach, your hip – he touches you everywhere, leaving every inch of your skin burning with desire. His fingertips dig deeply into your leg as he keeps you spread open, his thigh keeping your other leg from closing, as he abuses your cunt with his fingers that are much longer than your own. 
Your back arches in pleasure, your sensitive core crying for more. 
The feeling inside of you is different, new, but you aren’t surprised by it, he edged you three or four times tonight, tears of frustration fell from your eyes, those tears that are now caused by pleasure and sensitivity. 
Your whimpers are so erotic to him, just like the wetness he can hear as he is knuckles deep inside of you, stretching you open. He can see the goosebumps on your skin and the way your stomach tenses up, the way your breathing stutters. 
You are in bliss, he can see it on your face, there is not a single thought in that pretty head of yours. 
He leans down, pressing into you as he inches closer to your face, pecking your lips, “no one else can make you feel like this… no one.” He whispers against your lips, placing another kiss upon them before he moves to your marked up neck, ghosting over it and inching down to your chest, trailing kisses along the way to your boobs. He wraps his lips around your nipple, looking up at you, he begins to suck, adding more pleasure to your body. 
You belong to him. 
“Steve!” You whimper, throwing your hands into his hair, you let your fingers get lost in it. 
He moans against you, quickening the pace of his fingers, curling them even harder inside of you, making you shudder at the feeling, jolting even when he presses his thumb against your swollen clit. 
You tremble beneath him, the wave of pleasure being so strong that a sob falls from your lips, your fingers curling into his hair roughly, “fuck… baby,” you whine. 
A surprised whimper falls from his own lips, the nickname stopping every thought in his mind, for a second. 
Baby, Baby, Baby… 
No one has ever called him that, no one. The fact that you are the first, somehow makes it better, and he doesn’t even know why. 
The coil inside of you grows bigger and bigger, an unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your lower stomach, making drool form on your tongue and stars blur your vision. Your nerves feel as though they are on fire, your skin prickling as he fucks you roughly. 
“I-I’m so close,” you whimper and scrunch your face up as you move your hips a little, meeting his thrusts. 
He is so lost in you and your moans, he doesn’t even realize that he is biting, tugging on your nipple with his teeth until a new, higher moan escapes you. 
“O-Oh my god,” you whisper shakily as your eyes roll back, “S-Steve! That feels so good!” 
“Yeah?” He murmurs against you, lips returning to your neck, he pecks it a few times as he looks down, watching the way your thighs tremble, the way the muscles in your stomach tense so tightly and your chest rises up and down so much heavier than before, “your thighs are shaking so much… holy shit.” 
The pressure inside of you becomes so overwhelming, it feels a lot, it feels too much. 
“S-Steve,” you tremble, “t-that feels weird.” 
Your voice sounds so small, unsure, yet the moans won’t stop escaping you. 
“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers as he lets go of your leg, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, he wipes your tears and brushes your hair out of your face, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip, “just trust me… let go for me.” 
You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, not even when he starts peppering your face with kisses. 
The pleasure is too much, the pressure makes you panic slightly, but he doesn’t stop, if anything, he fucks you harder and faster with his fingers, keeping them curled inside of you, his palm keeps brushing your overstimulated clit. He is hoping to get what he has been seeking. You haven’t trembled this much before, and he is confident, he is so confident that you won’t forget this, that you won’t forget how he made you feel, that you won’t forget him. 
“C’mon,” he murmurs against your lips, “I know you want to.”
Your bottom lip shakes, the pressure threatening to explode inside of you, every inch of your body now burning and quivering. 
You let go of his hair and throw your hand down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, your eyes open, and you look at him through your blurry vision. 
Your moans and the squelching that gets louder and louder, sounds that are like music to his ears, making his stomach flutter and his dick twitch again – to his own surprise. 
“I-I can’t– too much, Steve!” You whine, nearing an edge you have never touched before, “I’m gonna–”
You never get to finish your sentence, because as Steve plunges his fingers in even deeper, and curls them harder. You can only throw your head back, a mix between a squeal and a whimper falling. 
Steve nearly stops all of his movements when you clench around his fingers like a vice. 
Your hips jerk upwards as liquids shoot out of you, and he gets to where he wanted. 
“H-Holy shit–”
Steve’s eyes widen, a chuckle of amusement and excitement leaving his lips, he stares at you in awe. Surprised at the tent in his pants, he is rock hard again. 
He keeps pounding his fingers in and out of you, not stopping his movements just yet. With a smirk, he leans down to kiss your cheek, cooing at you, “you’re such a good girl for me.” He says possessively. 
Your walls unclench around him, and he thinks it’s all, when you suddenly clench again, tighter than before, another shockwave rushes through your body, and you squirt even more, the leather beneath you becoming even wetter than before. 
Steve’s hand is drenched, up to his elbow, and so is the front of his jeans, his stomach and the window behind him. The evidence of how good he made you feel is all over his seats, filling him with pride. 
A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, he feels like he’s on top of the world, he feels like a fucking king again, knowing that he brought such pleasure to your body. 
He never even thought that this was possible, that this move in porn movies is nothing but a myth, but he had to try, he had to try it with you. It would have shamed him before to admit he had been watching more porn than usual just to do the things he sees with you, but now? He feels like he is the most intelligent person in the world.
Your body falls limp, whines and whimpers still filling the space around you, tears roll down your cheek as you’re trying to catch your breath. 
Steve pats your cheek, caressing it gently as he stares at you fondly, “hey, are you okay?” He whispers, unable to stop himself from pecking your lips. 
You nod weakly, still needing a moment to come down from the high. 
He keeps kissing you, playing with your hair as he caresses your skin, pulling his fingers out of you after a while, making you whine again. 
You open your eyes, struggling to keep them open after the intense orgasm you just had. You look into his eyes, they’re filled with victory. A proud smile playing on his lips. 
You raise your eyebrows when you notice the drops on the window, the wet seats, his soaked hands and the wetness beneath you. 
Heat rushes up to your cheeks, embarrassment rushes through you and you can’t help but gasp as you look around the mess that you made. Tears blur your vision, “o-oh my god!” You say weakly, shakily as you start crying, catching him off guard, “I-I’m so sorry, Steve!” 
You press your palms against the wet seats and push to sit up. 
Steve shakes his head at you, he cups your cheeks and shushes you by kissing your lips again, “fuck, Blondie, don’t cry – holy shit, that was so fucking hot,” he chuckles, “it’s just leather, sweetheart. And honestly, this feels like a fucking victory to me.”
You blink through your tears, looking at him with big and glassy eyes, your heart still pounds in your chest, shame swirling deeply in your chest. 
“Really?” 
He nearly faints at the look in your eyes. 
Who would’ve thought that Steve would ever get to see you like this or that he’d get to be the one to make you come undone so intensely? 
You are so vulnerable, right now. It tugs at his heartstrings, knowing that you struggle with emotions, that you hate showing weakness and tears – yet here you are, even if it’s only out of shame, it shows him that you trust him, even if only a little. 
You’re unaware of the fluttering in his chest that you cause, the warmth around his heart as he stares at you. He traces your cheek before he slips his hands down to your waist. 
You look so fucking cute. 
How can he not adore you when you look at him like this?
He gulps as he is completely aware of the way his heart feels. 
You’re going to be a problem, that’s for sure – but he can’t find it in himself to care, not now. 
He sits back and pulls you along with him, dragging you into his lap, he surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shaking, hot body. He pulls you into him so he can hug you, he cups the back of your head and makes you relax against his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, feeling the need to treat you gently, sweetly. 
Your breath hitches in your throat, his actions doing nothing to calm your racing heart.
It takes you a moment, but eventually, you calm down and close your eyes as you bury your face in his bare chest, his hair tickling your cheek a little. Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, making your heart race. 
Your body is aching, your legs are trembling, you nearly squeal when his crotch brushes against your center as you try to move closer to him.
“Wait,” he whispers, he grabs your waist again and changes your position, moving both of your legs over his thighs instead, so you don’t have to straddle him, and then, he pulls you back into his chest again. He brushes his fingers against your upper arm, stroking your skin softly, “is that better?” 
You nod. 
“Good,” he whispers, letting all his emotions guide him as he presses a kiss to your temple. 
“Y-You made me squirt,” you whisper, blushing. 
He chuckles, looking down at you and the way your cheek is pressed against his chest, “yeah Blondie, I made you squirt. I never did that in my life, you never did that in your life, we should put a memory plaque here.” 
Finally, a giggle falls from your lips, and you look up at him, amusement shining in your eyes. 
“I need a shower and sleep for like… three days straight.” 
Steve chuckles, squeezing you tighter, he finds himself liking the feeling of holding you this way, he can’t help but want to pull you closer. 
“I’m happy to provide all that for you,” he smiles down at you. 
Steve likes to see you in his clothes, he likes it when you take showers at his place and make his bathroom smell like your shampoo and your sweet body wash. 
He missed it last night. 
He clears his throat, his smile falling a bit, “why didn’t you uh… call me the past two days?” 
You hesitate, not wanting to show your face to him, you keep your head down. 
“Oh uh… I felt sick, nauseous, probably because of something I ate, maybe it was Eddie’s attempt at the homemade burrito…”
Steve’s mind was plagued with ugly thoughts after seeing you with Jacob, but this is beginning to ease his mind a little. 
“Wait so,” he blinks, sitting up straighter as he continues to look down at you, “you were home?” 
You nod, meeting his eyes, “where else would I be?”
It’s not exactly a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. You had an appointment in the morning, one that you had been nervously awaiting for weeks. 
The tension that remained leaves his body completely now, relief rushes through him, making him relax fully. 
“I thought… since Jacob was back–”
Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, before a smile appears on your lips. 
“Aw, is Stevie jealous and worried that someone is going to take his place?” You ask him, taunting him a little. 
Yeah, he actually is. 
But he can’t tell you that, can he? 
He pinches your ass with his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips, “don’t get all bratty now, or I will show you how no one can replace me… again.” 
You’re a little taken aback by all the comments, by his actions today, by the softness of his touch, right now. He didn’t fight you on it. He just told you to not be bratty instead of telling you to stop thinking that way.
Today, he treated you as though you were his. 
He acted out of jealousy and was possessive over you, and in the end, he pulled you into his arms, treating you with such gentleness that it will surely leave a stain in your heart forever. 
This is dangerous, he is dangerous. 
He is giving you a glimpse of something that you will never have. 
He is showing you colors, you can’t ever see with anyone else. 
And maybe, this should be enough to make you run into safety, to protect your heart from the pain it will suffer when it’s all over. 
But in what world, would you ever run from him?
You know how this will end, but it won’t stop you from kissing his lips and letting him into you. 
He can break your heart and shatter your soul for all you care. 
It’s all his anyway. 
-
Eddie looked all over for you, the backyard, the kitchen, even the bathroom and the bedrooms, he was sick with worry as he searched for you. He got distracted when Robin forced him into a game of beer pong, with Argyle and Vickie, and lost sight of you. 
The girl ended up calming him down, when she told him that Steve took you home, you looked sick apparently. But Eddie knows better than that. 
He knows deep in his gut that his suspicions were right, that he wasn’t thinking into it too deeply. 
On his way out of Vickie’s house, he bumps into someone, turning around to apologize, he finds a very drunk Jacob, he raises his hands up, slurring out an apology, but then a confused frown appears on his face when he seems to recognize him. 
“Munson, you’re friends with her, right?” 
“Huh, with who?” Eddie mumbles, tilting his head. 
Jacob says your name and Eddie blinks a few times and slowly nods, “best friends actually, what of it?”
The tall jock smells like beer and weed mixed together as he steps closer, invading his space a little. 
“Well, I mean, is she dating Harrington or something?” Jacob asks, shaking his head. 
Eddie raises his eyebrows, curiosity sparking inside of him. 
“Um…” He could say no, he definitely could, but Jacob seems like a source of information right now, and he decides to use this opportunity to find out more, “what makes you think that?” 
“Well, the fact that this guy cockblocked me two times tonight is the main one. Tried flirting with her and he just pulled her away and even dared to glare at me as if I were the one interrupting his conversation, man." Jacob is slurring, rambling, and he just looks like a guy that lost the opportunity, not someone who would push you into a date or something. 
But Eddie is stunned by the revelation, so he pressed forward.
“Two times?”
“Yeah, the first one he took her somewhere as soon as I started talking to her, and the next he interrupted us so he could leave with her... Say sorry to Harrington for me, she didn't tell me she was dating him,” he mumbles, waving his hand as he rolls his eyes and steps.
Eddie’s gears work, trying to figure out a way to confirm all of this, but for now, the information is enough, his suspicions only growing with certainty. A small honest smile appears on his face and he pats Jacob on the shoulder.
“Thank you Leeney. I'll make sure to let Stevie know.” 
The blond nods and steps away, giving him a weak smile before he walks off, leaving Eddie by himself. 
His dark brown eyes flash with understanding and realization, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he puts all the puzzle pieces together. 
He brings his hand up to his chin and shakes his head when he thinks of the marks on both yours and Steve’s skin. 
A scoff falls from Eddie’s lips. 
“Chandler and Heidi, right.” 
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @joekeerysmoles @ibellcipem @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn628 @corrodedcorpses @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
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daisymbin · 3 months
Text
so? what's it gonna be, princess? - choi seungcheol
warnings: none!!
pairings: choi seungcheol x reader
genre: best friend to lovers (as always... zzzzz)
word count: 1.8k
requests open!
check out my masterlist!
‘’cheollie, i think i will be running a little late. it started pouring out of nowhere and i don't have my umbrella with me,’’ seungcheol could practically hear the pout coming from you through the phone, ‘’please help me tell the boys im sorry and that i'll be there as soon as i can.’’ today was yet another friday evening where the boys had planned a group dinner to catch up with everyone which happens once every 2 weeks. 
‘’you're pouting arent you?’’ your best friend teased you through the phone. ‘’no im not..’’ you lie, but unbeknownst to you, seungcheol is sitting in his car; parked just outside your company's lobby waiting for you. he smiles as he watches you furrow your eyebrows and look up at the sky; watching the pouring rain, and he sees your pout growing more evident. ‘’don't you regret turning me down this morning when i offered to drive you after work?’’ he chuckles to himself as he continues to tease you; he fumbles reaching for an umbrella in the backseat, ready to walk towards you. 
‘’maybe a little…but my office is in the complete opposite direction.. i didn’t want to trouble you.’’ you tried justifying. ‘’its been 13 years now that we've been friends, how many times do i have to tell you that you're never a bother or trouble to me? you know i love helping you out and doing things with you. even if its just driving with you by my side.’’ you felt your stomach do a little flip at your best friend's words and you try to shake the feeling away. seungcheol watches as you brace yourself, getting ready to run in the rain to cross the road, most likely to get to the bus stop. ‘’WAIT, STAY THERE!’’ he shouts through the phone and you all but halt your movements all together. ‘’huh? what do you mean?’’ you asked as confusion took over you. ‘’hello?’’ you prod again when he doesnt say anything back. ‘’cheol??’’ this time you remove your phone from your ear to look at the screen, had the call been disconnected?
‘’princess!’’ your head whipped around at the sound of that. you could recognise his voice anywhere and yet, you didnt exactly believe it. what is he doing here? why would he be here? you watch as seungcheol run out of his car holding an umbrella over his head, ‘’what are you doing here? i thought i told you not to come? i could have made it to dinner on my own..’’ you say as you started to feel bad. ‘’in this heavy rain? its gonna take you forever!’’ he chuckles lightly as he reaches his arm out to put over your shoulder, getting you under the umbrella with him. ‘’yeah but still.. its so inconvenient for you.’’ seungcheol watches as your pout slowly returns. all he can think about is how cute and pretty you look, and how soft your lips would feel against his. 
‘’nothing is ever inconvenient when it comes to you. did you forget why my nickname for you is princess in the first place? did you forget the promise i made you when we were kids? i said i'll always treat you like the princess you are, didnt i?’’ he asked as he tugged you closer to him and start walking back to his car. ‘’cheol, of course i remember, but no one ever really holds onto promises they made when they were kids. it was just all fun and games!’’ you laugh as you hit his chest lightly with your fist playfully. seungcheol catches your hand and held it in his for a second before letting go. ‘’i didn't think it was just for fun and games…i meant what i said back then & i still do.’’ his face turned serious before it was quickly replaced by his boyish shy smile that you love so much. he reached down to open the door to the passenger seat, ushering you to get in. 
you watch as he closed the door to the passenger seat and quickly ran over to the driver's seat. ‘’what was that about?’’ you asked as soon as seungcheol settled in this seat. it doesnt go unnoticed by you that half of his body is wet; drenched in rain, clearly from shielding you with the umbrella better and not himself. you heart aches at that a little. ‘’what was what?’’ he questioned back, looking at you with confusion swimming in his brown orbs. you took in a deep breath and let out an audible sigh, ‘’you mean what you said back then and you still do?’’ you laughed before continuing playfully, ‘’aww, does that mean that my cheolie is still in love with me after all these years?’’ you teased jokingly as you think back to when you were both 21, your best friend had drunkenly confessed to you in a game of truth or dare with chan, minghao, soonyoung and joshua that you were in fact his first love when you were both younger. what he failed to mention however is that he was still in love with you at that time. 
‘’cheol, im just joking. dont look at me like that.’’ you say as you shift your eyes towards the road; finding his burning gaze too hard to keep in contact with. ‘’don't look at you like what?’’ his voice came out a lot softer and huskier than he'd like. not that seungcheol was trying anything, but his throat suddenly felt so so dry. was he about to have this conversation with you? ‘’i don't know, you just look so serious. i was just kidding. come on, start the car, or we'll be late.’’ you unintentionally whined, hoping that he will let it go and drop the subject. but seungcheol caught on to your nervousness, he always does. you have your tells when you're nervous and seungcheol knows all of them like the back of his hand. he knows you oh so well. 
feeling a sudden surge of confidence from the fact that he made you nervous, inevitably, your best friend turned cocky. ‘’so what if i am?’’ he asked as he leaned his face against his fist that his biceps were resting on the steering wheel. ‘’what?’’ you asked as you furrowed your eyebrows at him. seungcheol could see the slight irritation dancing in your eyes. he knows you think he's fucking with you again like he always does, except what you didn't know was all his playful flirting? yeah he meant those. but you? you could play along with his playful flirting but joking about feelings and being in love? that crosses the line for you. not funny. at all. 
‘’i said, so what if i am? so what if i am still in love with you after all these years?’’ truthfully, seungcheol felt confident and cocky, but that was before he actually said those words out loud. now? his heart was thumping so hard he thought it might jump right out of his chest, but of course, he didnt show it, he tried his hardest not to at least; always keeping that small but nervous smile on his face. ‘’if this is another one of your stupid jokes, stop it. its not funny. you know i hate when people joke about feelings.’’ your irritation had grown tenfold by now. ‘’start the car cheol, we'll be late.’’ 
‘’but we're already late,’’ he says as he debates in his mind if he should hold your hand. ‘’and besides, don't you think i know you well enough by now to know what not to joke about?’’ he watches as your eyes soften and reaches for your hand. you look down at where you are both linked: your hands, and silence takes over you. ‘’so, should we walk into dinner holding hands and let the boys plan our wedding or are you going to reject me and let this car ride be the most awkward we've ever been around each other?’’ seungcheol all but nervously asks, jokingly of course.
‘’is this really how you ask someone out? that's so corny and cringey. no wonder you've been single all these years!” seungcheol lets out a breath of relief when he hears your sweet laugh and sees a smile finally break out on your face. ‘’is the reason i'm single all these years really because of how corny and cringey i am or is it because of how in love i am with you that i stayed by your side and took care of you the best i knew how to at whatever age it was, that i always looked out for you no matter where we were, be it at a party, in class, in school, at a dinner functions, anything. that i tried my best to never let you feel alone and to know that i always believe in you no matter what negative things that pretty little head of yours tells you when you go to bed at night? and look at you now? look how far you've come.’’
seungcheol held your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of your hand. you felt tears lightly prickle your eyes and you blinked them away, ‘’thank you, cheol..for always being there for me even when i didn’t know i needed you.’’ he now held your hand up to his cheek, still intertwining your fingers. ‘’like today?’’ he asked with a shy smile. ‘’like today..’’ you smiled back. ‘’so what's it gonna be princess? are we picking out a wedding destination or are we sitting in awkward silence?’’ he teased. ‘’why can't you be normal and just ask me to be your girlfriend like everybody else?’’ you ask as you tried tugging your hand away from him but he didn’t let up, it only made his grip on you tighter. ‘’where's the fun in that? and besides, you answering my question will tell me if i have a girlfriend or not.’’ seungcheol already knows your answer to his question, but he still had to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it so bad. 
‘’hmm..,’’ you looked away from him and pretended to think for a second, ‘’you know The Maldives has always been my dream destination for travelling…a wedding there would be pretty don't you think?’’ you turn back to look at your boyfriend with a faux face of being in thought. seungcheol didnt know he could smile so big but in that moment he did, ‘’i think anywhere in the world would make for a pretty wedding destination as long as you're the bride, princess.’’ seungcheol finally lets go of your hand, but only to now cup your face in between his 2 hands.  he kissed you once on your forehead, ‘’you know i love you right?’’ he asked as he looked into your eyes, his usual playful and mischievous brown orbs are now replaced with love, adoration and sincerity. you smile as you answer, ‘’you know i love you too, right?’’ and that was all it took for seungcheol to finally kiss you on the lips. ‘’i think i love you more.’’ he just always has to win, doesn't he?
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astralis-ortus · 4 months
Text
against the world
✱ boyfriend!bc × fem!reader
— for as long as i love you.
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w.count → 2k genre → angst, fluff, a dash of comedy warnings → reader mocked by a character, self deprecating thought a.n → based on this request! took me a while to figure how to write because brain did not want to work together with the pictures i had in mind but we're here! it's a fun one to work on (despite the angst)(i actually love the angst) and i hope it's up to your expectation!<3 ⋆ see masterlist
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the bus ride felt like forever.
honestly, you weren’t even sure why you ended up arguing with chan in the first place. hell, you couldn’t even remember what even really irked you about his response. all you remembered was about feeling upset and ended up lashing out at chan to the point where he decided to head back to his studio despite just coming back the hour prior, just so he doesn’t say anything he might regret.
when he still hadn’t returned hours later, however, guilt started to dig its sharp nails into your sore heart.
you knew you had to let him cool his head—you understand that, but you can’t sit still knowing he’d likely lock himself in and drown himself in work. you can’t, especially when you knew for a fact he hadn’t got anything to eat since you two were planning to go on a date had the argument never happened. he hasn’t been on top of his condition as is, and you won’t be able to forgive yourself if this whole absolute ridicule of a situation you caused made him fall sick.
hence, after your nth call went straight to his voicemail, you know there’s only one thing left you could do—go to his studio and apologize.
“thank you,” you offered a smile at the familiar security guard, bowing your head enough as you entered through the trainee and artist entrance of the building. usually, either you or chan would offer him a snack or coffee whenever you got there together, but with all the chaos happening inside your head, all you could remember to grab was the light meal you had hurriedly prepared for chan as an apology.
“bang chan is still in his studio,” the security guard quietly informed with a knowing smile, abruptly stopping you in your track with your eyes wide at him, “most of the staff, trainee, and artist have left for the day, but you could let me know if you need access to the rooftop. the weather is good enough for you to talk there.”
you blinked at his offer, a little stunned at the conclusion he took just by looking at you. is it that obvious…?
“it’s going to be okay; fights are bound to happen between couples,” he continued lightly with a tender smile, as if reading the thoughts passing your mind, “as long as you love and care about each other, there’s nothing you two can’t handle. don’t worry.”
choking up a breath, you hurriedly thanked the security guard and walked past the familiar hallways leading to your boyfriend’s studio. tears were pooling dangerously in your eyes, threatening its way out as you replayed the passing advice in your head. he’s right—as long as you love and care about each, there’s—
“hey! you! stop right there!”
the loud echoing voice snapped you out of your thoughts, again halting your steps before you reached your destination. despite your racing heartbeat at the sudden loudness, you try your best to seek for the other soul around—leading your eyes to land at a female figure at the end of the hallway.
“oh,” you immediately bowed your head as soon as you noticed the identity of the staff rushed towards you—one you recognize as a part of division 2, according to an exchange she had with chan a few months prior during one of your visits. “hello, i just—”
“who are you? how do you get in here?” the sharpness in her voice made you wince; startled and confused. you’re certain she’s aware of your presence before—distinctly remembering how chan awkwardly introduced you as to her own request, understandably wary of an unfamiliar face lurking around a private section of the company.
“right,” you shook your head, ridding your mind off of the uneasiness you picked up, “sorry, you probably don’t remember. i’m chan’s girlfriend. we met a couple months ago? i remember chan introdu—”
“girlfriend?” she scoffed, not even letting you finish your sentence. the way she shut you off left a sharp sting in your heart, but even that wouldn’t compare to the way her icy gaze pierced right through you—pricking and prodding every inch of your appearance, finalized with a condescending snicker.
“another crazy fan, huh?”
you felt your heart sink at the accusation. dating chan, you knew it would come with the bad alongside the good. you understood that, and you knew better than anyone to focus on the flowers and butterflies chan made your everyday look like while paying zero attention to the odd snarky remarks here and there. though it sure has been quite some time since the last time someone accused you of being delusional, but to be completely honest with yourself, it didn’t make it hurt any less.
fingers tighten around the strap of chan’s meal bag on your hand, you try hard not to let yourself crumble as you attempted to defend yourself, “no, i’m not—”
“besides,” cutting you short, she took a step closer and shoved her fingers on your shoulder, “you need to wake up. why would chan even date someone like you?”
you know you’re not perfect. you know that despite the amount of love you have for chan, there’s no promise of a perfect future between the two of you. you know that there’s a possibility of a life where you have to live without chan, and the blame will most likely be on you—because you’re not pretty enough. you’re not talented enough. you’re not someone of a similar background. you’re not even anywhere close to being on chan’s level, and it’s all because you’re you.
“seriously, get a grip,” she hissed, digging her fingers onto the bone of your shoulder while you desperately bit your lip, trying to contain the tears threatening to fall. “you’re just some lowly, delusional fan. don’t even—”
“don’t even what, noona?”
both you and the staff immediately snapped your eyes towards the figure behind her; heavy, firm steps towards you with his jaw tense and a silent rage burning in his eyes. she immediately scrambled away from you, hiding her hands—ones nearly pushing you to an endless canyon of despair.
you’ve never seen chan that angry.
“i-i just—”
“she’s my girlfriend,” chan emphasized through gritted teeth, taking your freezing hand in his trembling one, “and you do not talk to my woman like that.”
“i was just looking out for you!” she attempted to defend herself, fear present in her eyes as she attempted to look straight into chan’s eyes. “you know how crazy these sasaengs have been these days! i just—”
“stop!”
your body involuntarily jumped at the sudden raise in his voice, eyes wide as you looked at him in surprise. his face was red—but even from your point of view, you could see he was hurt.
“no one gave you the right to talk to my people like that,” chan towered against her as he makes himself clear, "especially towards my woman. you don’t—”
“channie,”
your voice was soft, but it was enough to quiet down the anger burning inside chan. yes—his priority is to keep you safe.
shifting his attention entirely towards you, chan felt his heart drop—your eyes were red, trails of tears apparent down your cheeks. your fingers were ice cold against his burning skin, and the way he felt your body tremble broke his heart.
“baby,” chan cracked a weak smile, trying to ease the tension on you as he ran his palms against your arm, “are you okay? need me to carry you?”
you quickly shook your head, sniffles escaping past your lips as your nerves slowly calmed down. you’re just so, so tired—and all you need is chan.
“let’s head to my studio, okay?” his voice was soft, arms wrapped around your frail figure as he leads you down the empty hallway, leaving the still stunned staff behind. he’ll deal with that tomorrow; because now, your well-being mattered most to him.
as soon as you got to chan’s studio, he immediately locked the familiar green room and covered you up with a blanket—ones he kept especially for you, keeping you warm as he quietly cuddled you on the small couch. your faint sniffles turned into sobs, and as the sense of safety finally settled in your bones, you finally let yourself cry into chan’s arms.
chan simply stayed silent; warmth of his arms surrounds you whilst he lets you pour your feelings out.
he heard almost everything the staff had said to you, and he’s mad at himself for not being able to protect you from those words. he should’ve been there with you, keeping you safe from the unnecessary hate just because you’re his girlfriend. he should’ve stayed with you instead of running away. he should’ve—
“i’m sorry for lashing out on you,” you clutched onto his hoodie, voice coming out weak as you try to regulate your breathing. “i didn’t know why i was so upset. i shouldn’t have done that to you. i’m sorry.”
“i’m sorry too, baby,” he pulled you closer into his arms, letting you nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “i shouldn’t have left you home alone, let alone for hours. i just—i could’ve handled it better. i’m sorry.”
a hum escaped your lips along with a soft shake of your head, showing your disapproval to his apology. “no, channie. i understand why you feel like you need to leave to clear your head. just… i’m worried because you didn’t answer my calls, and i know you hadn’t eaten anything today, so—”
“wait,” chan gently pulled away and looked at your flushed face, light trace of his fingers fixing the stray strands off your features, “you called? i didn’t hear my phone ring—or buzz, as a matter of fact. when did you call?”
“last was an hour ago, i think?” you leaned onto chan’s warm touch. “i don’t know. i was hurrying—ah,” eyes suddenly wide, you prodded your finger at the bag chan had set aside on his desk earlier, “i brought you some sandwich to eat. it’s not much, but you need to eat, channie.”
chan was stunned—he felt warm.
he’s used to being left alone to sort his feelings. he’s used to being treated as if his emotions were worth nothing, and he only mattered if he did something for others. chan is used to feeling invisible—but with you, he felt seen. not because of what he’s trying to prove, but because of the simple fact that he’s… him.
clearing his throat, chan immediately flashes a smile at you. “let’s eat first, yeah?” he hummed, voice noticeably lighter as he gently moved you off his lap and grabbed the little bag. “you should eat too. you spent a lot of energy crying.”
“but—”
“no buts,” he playfully glared at you, lips pursed in protest, “you came all the way here for me, it’s only fair i share my food with you.”
“after this,” finally unpacking the sandwich and handing you his other half, “we’ll order something else and some ice cream while i play you some of the songs i was working on. sounds good?”
the way your face lit up was enough of an answer for chan—your excited nods were merely a confirmation.
“alright, alright,” he chuckled, fighting off the urge to pull you back into his arms. instead, chan fished for the phone in his pocket and handed it to you. “your pick, baby.”
“yes! i’m—wait,” pressing on the power button, you blinked upon realizing how the screen remained unchanged despite your attempts. “did you forgot to charge your phone, channie?”
Chan grimaced. You could see how he’s slowly tracing his steps throughout the day—until a split second of realization flashed past his eyes. His lips turned into a little grin; one he always wears when he realizes he did something wrong.
“…did i?”
You’re out of words.
“channie!”
“hahah—i’m sorry!”
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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aayakashii · 3 months
Text
I received a super cute ask requesting a hc of the Jabberwock boys getting a plushie from the MC, but tumblr effed up my post for some reason?? So I'm posting again!
ANON THAT WAS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST AND I LOVED WRITING IT!!! ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ Thank you for sending it!! I based each plushie on the animal that's been assigned to their chibis, I hope that's okay!
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How Jabberwock boys react after receiving a cute little plushie from MC
Otonashi Towa – bee plushie
Towa is a little bit confused because plushies aren't a huge part of his life and he never really played much with any.
But receiving anything from you makes him very happy because you're one of his favorite people, so he loves it regardless!!
He loved getting a little chubby bee because bees like flowers and he likes flowers so!! They're basically the same!
Towa likes his new little friend so much that he keeps it on him 24/7, even when he's frolicking in the Jabberwock meadows.
Which in turn makes the plushie all damp and dirty, but please don't be upset!
He tries giving it a bath every now and then, but having fun outside is one of the things he loves the most...
So the fact that he takes your gift with him every single time just means he treasures it a lot!!
He keeps on putting dandelions on the bee though, so keeping it clean is a hard task. But it's all because it remembers him of you! He has no regrets.
Speaking of regrets, be ready to get a teary-eyed Towa handing you the plushie, asking you to sew it back together after some bad encounter with an anomaly from time to time...
He will take a lot more care next time!! He promises!
Shiranami Ren – shark plushie
At first, he's gonna look at you like you grew three heads all of a sudden.
Why would you give him a cute gift like that? Do you want something from him???? Also does he look like someone who likes plushies cmon MC-
Yes. Yes, he does love plushies. And he is absolutely in love with your gift.
Ren will mostly keep his new friend inside his room, away from prying eyes (Haru's eyes, he means).
But after a while, he might stuff it inside his backpack whenever he has an exam or something hard he gotta do, because he considers it his moral support (also it is adorable and looking at cute things is great for your health-)
Mostly, however, they'll hang out together inside his room. Ren will hug it while playing one of his mobile games, and he swears the plushie is giving him a little bit more luck when he pulls the gacha...
After a while, Ren might begrudgingly ask you if you know how to sew little clothes, because he saw online how some people buy tons of clothes for their nuis and he kinda wants to do the same...
Don't laugh though! It took him a whole lot of courage to come ask this of you! He'll kick you out of his guild if you laugh!
Please sew clothes for his shark friend. Ren wants little cosplays of his favorite games and you're the only one who gets him.
Sagara Haru – kangaroo plushie
Oh no MC. YOU ARE GIVING HIM A NEW CHILD?????
"Why didn't you tell me you were expecting our kid?! I will take full responsibility, let's get married and take care of him together and–"
"Haru. That's literally just a plushie I sewed for you."
"Haha, I know!! I'm just joking, I'm just joking!! You ARE the other parent, though."
Needless to say, Haru absolutely loves it to death, and he WILL keep making jokes like that forever, even if you two are just friends and never even smooched.
He also takes it everywhere, but mostly because Peekaboo loved the plushie just as much as him and is convinced he is a big brother.
Like father, like son...
Peekaboo insists Haru puts the little plushie right beside him on his baby wrap, just the head peeking out so it can "breathe and watch everything" properly.
With all the hard work Haru does, the plushie also gets a bit dirty, but he cleans it thoroughly almost everyday! Can't have his youngest son dirty, right?
Haru lets Peekaboo keep it during the day, but during the night, he takes it to bed with him, on the rare occasions in which he sleeps for more than 3 hours
He loves cuddling his plushie son and might ask you someday to make more friends for it!
Of course, he does that by joking about how you two are ready to expand the family, and how he would like to have more kids. He's just a silly goofy guy like that.
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Note
📝- "Is that my shirt?" For Theo Nott
"that's when I love you, that's when"
warnings: alcohol consumption and implications of smut
It was a mistake; you both agreed. Well, you hadn’t actually talked about it, but you knew it was a mistake and were sure Theo would also agree. 
You blamed Gryffindors and their parties and most importantly, the right amount of Firewiskey in your system convincing you that dancing and being close to Theo was a good idea. 
You went from dancing, to your hands running up and down his chest and his tugging possessively at your hips; you were lucky everyone around you was also drunk and wouldn’t remember the way you two acted. 
So, dancing escalated to a heavy make out session by the stairs, which led you right to his bed. Every time you remember that night you feel your whole body heat up, come alive and almost beg for more. But you won’t give in to these thoughts, mainly because you value your friendship way too much.
That is what you say to yourself at least, because you don't want to admit the truth.
What is left of that friendship, anyway? You avoid him almost everyday now, can’t stand to be near him without touching him. His stare sends shivers down your body and you blush like a second year.
You want to grab him by his tie, and smash your lips on his. Actually, you want him to grab you and kiss you without ever intending to stop. But you know him way too well, to know that he would never do that, he is way too subtle and cautious with his feelings and who he lets in.
That morning, the one after the party and after everything that followed it, you ran before he woke. You grabbed whatever clothes you could find and sprinted to your dorm, carefully so no one would notice you. As you laid down in your bed, you felt an ache inside your chest, an emptiness that could only be filled by him. Too bad that could never happen, a voice inside you muttered.
It’s been almost one month after that night, one month since you and Theo have had a proper conversation. You desperately want to know how he is doing, how that essay he was telling you about went, what his last letter from his father said, and most importantly; how he feels after everything that happened.
Did he like it as much as you? Does he remember every detail as clearly as you? Did your touch leave behind an itch- a burn, like the one his hands left on you? And most importantly does he miss you like you miss him?
You put on his shirt, the one you wore that morning, and get ready for bed. You want to sleep everything off. Every emotion and thought tied to him, it feels unbearable when you realize that you will never get to live what you crave most.
It is merely a fantasy inside your head and nothing more. For all you know, he regrets everything or doesn’t remember much. It might be nothing to him, but it is everything to you and that tears through your chest, rips you open, leaving you exposed and hurt.
As you move in your room, trying to find your notebook or a book; anything to distract you, you hear a knock on the door. It is a Saturday night and your roommates are having fun somewhere, but they must have forgotten something. 
“Come in.” , you shout absentmindedly 
And when you don’t hear your friends voice but instead a nervous cough you turn your body quickly in his direction. In front of you stands Theo, after what feels like forever, looking at you with sad-disappointed eyes, as if wanting to beg for something but unable to find the words. 
You stare at him also, it is the first time you are alone with him again and you want to cherish every second. Because you know soon, all that will be gone.
He is the one to speak first, and break the awkward silence 
“I...is that my shirt?”, he says making your face turn red from the embarrassment.
“Yes, uh- I took it, I meant to give it back, but I…didn’t. Sorry.” (Sorry for leaving like that, sorry for avoiding you, sorry for being too big of a coward to tell you how I feel)
“It’s alright, I’ve just been looking for it and couldn’t find it, now I know why.” ,he says calmly willing himself to give you a reassuring smile while his hand scratches the back of his head.
“Give me a minute, I’ll go change and hand it to you.”, you quickly say, using the shirt as an excuse to avoid him once more
You walk past him, without caring to hear what he says, but he stops you.
He grabs your wrist, gently, and looks at you with eyes that beg; beg you not to leave him, and fix what’s “broken”.
“Stop running away”, he says annoyed , “Please.” , his voice filled with complaint and disappointment, his hand wrapped around your arm now, sending jolts down your body
“Alright.”, you sigh “Say whatever it is you want to say, and get this over with.”
“Is it that terrible for you, to be in the same room as me?”
“No, no it isn’t.” 
“Then why do you keep avoiding me? Why are you running away?”, he says loudly, closing his eyes while his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Because…because you know why”
“Why did you leave that morning?”, he finally says
“I-�� you let out a tired laugh “I was scared of what you would do when you woke up and saw me, I was scared of the ending.”
“So you decided to end it yourself." he shakes his head annoyed and looks up before continuing "Don’t I get a say in this? Shouldn’t you have given me a choice first? Before blowing it all up?"
"Oh come on, what would have been different if I’d stayed? Would you have kissed me good morning and played with my hair? It would be awkward, more awkward than it is now.", you say, anger and poison coating your tongue
"You don’t know that. You don’t even know what I want, and you don’t care to know. You have made up this version of things in your head and are following it blindly. Without looking at what's infront of you!", he exclaims raising his hands in a defeated manner.
"What is there to see Theo? It’s ruined now, we can’t be friends, not like we were. And, frankly I don’t want to be your friend, I don’t want to be just your friend. So really what am I missing?”
He doesn’t give you time to process what he is about to do next. And he doesn’t give time to himself to kiss you properly. Your kiss is messy and it tells you everything he can’t put into words. His lips are angry and his mouth forces your lips to part, beautifully for him. His hands tug at your hips, marking you as his, possessively and longingly. And your hands land on his hair, tugging at the roots as he bites your lower lip. 
“You are stubborn and an idiot.”, he says breathless
“I-“ you try to say but a kiss on your neck, that then turns into a soft kiss on your lips, interrupts you.
“Don’t ever run away like that, you can’t do that. You talk to me, or scream, but you don’t leave. Not like that.” he says looking in your eyes, his gaze more powerful than the Imperius Curse.
“Yes.”, you whisper and let him kiss you again.
“So what does this mean?”, you break the kiss to ask
“That I am inlove with you and I don’t want to just be your friend either.”, he says smirking
“Good.”, you grin and spread kisses along his jaw and neck
“Keep the shirt by the way, I like it on you.” he says sighing as you pull at his hair, to expose his neck.
And the next time you wake up, he is in your bed and you are in his arms, without the intention of ever running away.
fin ❤️‍🩹
Theodore Nott masterlist & celebrate my academic hardships
reminder: I will answer everything, until my inbox is empty, but while taking my time <33
thank you for reading and sending in messages and asks, and excuse the mistakes, I suck at proofreading :)))
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love4myg · 3 months
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accidental meetings | myg
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summary. navigating through awkward apologies and shared meals with your cute neighbour may promise more than just an unlikely friendship.
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pairing: yoongi x f!reader
word count: 3.2k
warnings: alcohol consumption
a/n: (this note has been edited) this was supposed to be oneshot and it ended up being apart of a mini-series…idk how we got here, but here we are :> hope you guys enjoy reading!!
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< prev • next > | series masterlist | main masterlist
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Your knuckles rapped against the door rhythmically for the second time.
Your eyes were unfocused and blurry and you could barely stand properly, having to hold onto the wall to prevent yourself from stumbling.
Everyone knew that going out to drink on an empty stomach was a bad idea. The lack of food had let the alcohol take its effect on you much sooner than you had anticipated, and your stomach lowly grumbled at the lack of food.
But when Maya—your roommate—had eagerly dragged you out of your dorm as soon as you returned from dropping all of your study materials back at the library, you didn't have the heart to say no.
A part of you also wanted to celebrate the end of your exams differently. Usually, the end of exam season meant catching up on all the shows you sacrificed watching to study. But going out for drinking also seemed fun.
You regretted your decision the moment Maya abruptly left the club with a random tatted-up guy, leaving you alone amidst the sea of drunk strangers and sweaty bodies. You too, left soon after, not wanting to deal with any creeps that could sour your happy mood.
How you managed to get home in one piece, you weren't sure. You were sure, however, that you had paid the taxi driver double the amount that was due. The overwhelming need to fall into the comforts of your bed seemed to have dulled your thinking, which is why your only annoyance grew with every second that you spent outside your dorm, waiting for Ari—your other roommate—to let you inside.
"Yah, Ari! Let me in you freak!"
You brought your hand up to knock again when the door swung open.
"Fuck's sake, Ari, thought you—hic—thought you were gonna lock me out forev-."
Your slurred words are cut short when your gaze is lifted from the ground to the man who stood in front of you.
His hand rubbed at his eye while his other roughly ran through his hair in an attempt to tame the dark, tousled locks. He stared at you with furrowed brows.
You tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes.
"Did you shape-shift or something? What's up with yo—hic—your hair?"
You stepped closer to the stranger and reached out your hand when it dawned on you, hands freezing a few centimetres in front of his hair.
"Shit. You're not Ari, are you?"
The stranger shook his head.
"No, sorry. I think you got the wrong apartment."
His voice was deep and hoarse, still laced with sleep. You felt a pang of guilt in your stomach for waking him up in the middle of the night.
"But the door says seventeen though?"
You blinked blankly at him and another small hiccup escaped you as he looked up at the door. You followed his gaze to the bronze numbering which read seven and not seventeen.
"Shit, 'm so sorry for waking you up, I swear that it said seventeen, I'm really sorry."
Your hands came together in front of you as more apologies tumbled last your lips. Honestly, you barely knew what you were saying, but you felt your embarrassment taint your cheeks with a familiar warmth.
"It's fine, don't worry."
The man's words were awkward and you mumbled a final apology before you moved away. Your apartment was only ten doors down, but the carpeted hallway seemed to stretch out for an eternity. You couldn't deny the eerie feeling that clung to the cold lights and caused small goosebumps to erupt across your skin.
Fuck, you had seriously lost it.
You took a few steps with your hands dragging across the pale walls.
"Actually, do you want me to bring you down to your door?"
You look back to see the boy who had already closed his door behind him as he made his way to you. His skin was pale and it almost seemed to glow now that he had emerged from the shadows of his apartment.
Or maybe he was your guardian angel, and a ring of light was going to appear above his head. You were seriously considering the possibility. Why else would a random stranger be so kind to you?
"You really don't—hic—have, I've already disturbed you enough."
"I don't want to worry about you passing out in the hallway. I'm not sleepy anymore anyway, so it's fine."
You gave him an apologetic, timid smile.
"Thank you, uh-."
"Yoongi."
"Yoongi," you repeated. The words bounced off your tongue with ease.
You moved closer to him and ended up clinging to his arm instead of the walls. He lightly froze at your sudden touch but you don't notice.
Your steps are weak but you managed to get to your apartment with the help of his body that guided you.
Yoongi knocked on the door for you and Ari opened it within a few seconds.
"Ariiii!"
You tumbled into her hands and wrapped your arms around her in an uncomfortable embrace.
"Oh my God, ___?" Ari's eyes moved from you to the brunette who stood outside.
"Thank you so much! I'm very sorry if they said something," Ari said, offering the man an apologetic smile.
"No worries, it's fine." His hands rubbed against the back of his neck softly. "Have a good night."
"You too."
She closed the door sharply and Yoongi heard her voice scolding you as you simply giggled. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back to his apartment, eyebrows furrowed in thought.
He knew that he had seen you before—you were too memorable for him to forget. But to his frustration, he couldn’t exactly place when and where.
A small sigh left his lips as he knocked on his door. Leaving his keys inside wasn't ideal and he hoped that Jungkook would wake up to his knocks and let him in. However, he couldn't bring himself to regret walking you down the hallway or blame you for possibly being stuck outside for the rest of the night.
Instead, he found himself wishing to meet you again.
────
The elevator doors opened smoothly and you stepped outside, heaving a heavy bag of groceries in your arms. You supported the bottom of the thin plastic, begging the universe to not curse you and cause the plastic to rip a few doors away from your apartment. 
It had happened before and you still remembered the awkwardness in the air as you scrambled to grab a pack of pads as a group of boys walked past.
You scrunched up your nose and squeezed your eyes as the memory brought waves of embarrassment to course through you. You shook off the feeling as you began to walk along the empty hallway.
Except, it wasn’t exactly empty. Your eyes fell on a boy who sat crouched on the floor with his back against the wall. His dark hair fell in loose waves over his forehead and you noticed a silver earring that lightly glistened on one of his ears. You were sure that if it weren’t for the plaid, red shirt he wore, you would have missed his presence completely.
You unknowingly tilted your head to the side. His features were oddly familiar, from the curve of his nose to the shape of his narrow eyes and his plump bottom lip. 
He was pretty, you wouldn’t deny that. Even with the defeated look on his face.
As you got closer to his figure, realisation dawned on you. This was the guy who helped you to your apartment less than a few days ago.
You felt your cheeks turn warm.
You would’ve speed-walked to your apartment to avoid another possibly embarrassing encounter if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes had already met yours.
His eyebrows rose slightly in recognition and he immediately pushed himself to his feet and cleared his throat awkwardly.
You lick your lips before giving him a small smile. It was already too late to try and pretend you hadn’t seen him, so you went with the only option you had left; to walk over to him.
“Hi,” you said, keeping a smile on your face.
“Uh- hi.”
You had never wished for the ground to swallow you up more than you did at that moment. You were usually good with making awkward atmospheres comfortable, and you had no idea why your brain seemed to be malfunctioning.
“Yoongi, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think I ever got a chance to apologise to you properly for waking you up that night. I genuinely am sorry, I usually know my limits with alcohol and I don’t know what happened that day,” you said with a dry chuckle. 
Yoongi’s eyes crinkle into a soft smile and you swore that you felt your heart skip a beat. 
“And thank you so so much for bringing me to my apartment, I swear I would’ve ended up sleeping in the middle of the hallway if it weren’t for you!”
“It was nothing, don’t worry.” Yoongi waved his arm in the air as if he were swatting away your words. “I’m glad that I was able to prevent you from sleeping in the hallway.”
You both laughed and you noticed the way his smile stretched out to reveal his gums.
“Oh, I don’t think I got a chance to introduce myself. I’m ___.”
You shifted your groceries to one arm as you outstretched your other. Yoongi took it, his grip soft as he shook your hand. The touch lingered for a few seconds longer than it should have and even as you pulled back, you felt the ghost of his skin on yours.
“So, uh- what are you doing sitting outside your apartment?”
“Ah, that-.” He brought his hand to rest against the back of his neck sheepishly. “-I kinda got locked out. I don’t bother taking the keys since my roommates are usually home, but they’re out today and none of them are picking up their phone.”
As he spoke, his eyes glanced down at his phone. You noticed the array of cracks that spread across the black screen, mimicking the intricate pattern of a cobweb.
“Oh, I think know how you can get in.”
You had learned the hack from an action book you had read a few years ago. As you placed down your bag of groceries against the wall and fished out your wallet, you hoped that the hack wasn’t something that only worked in movies and books.
You looked through your cards and picked out the first unimportant-looking one you found, which happened to be a voucher for the new restaurant that had opened a few blocks down from your apartment complex.
You stepped forward and slid the card into the crack of the door where the handle was as Yoongi watched in curiosity.
You pressed down the card. It took more strength than you anticipated, as the lock didn’t move an inch. You tried again and you felt Yoongi take a step closer to you.
You begged the universe to be on your side. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of the only cute guy who had made an effort to talk to you.
“It’s fine, I can just wai-.”
The card slid down and a small click was heard as it pushed the lock back into the door.
“I can’t believe that worked,” you said, disbelief laced in your voice. However, the joy from your success was short-lived as the door opened up and your plastic card fell to the floor in small pieces.
“Oh my god, thank you so much, seriously.”
The excitement in Yoongi’s voice died down as soon as you turned back to look up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“No problem.”
“I’m sorry about the card,” he said and it was your turn to swat away his apologies.
“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I owed you anyway. I guess we’re even now.”
Yoongi nodded and stepped inside. He picked up the pieces of plastic from the ground and handed it to you, noticing the broken lettering which he worked out to spell the name of the new restaurant that had opened up nearby.
You picked up your bag of groceries from the floor.
“Again, thank you. See you around,” he said with a small wave of his hand.
“Bye!” You mimicked the wave.
Yoongi couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt that twisted in his stomach as he watched you walk away. The restaurant wasn’t exactly fancy, but it was expensive enough for a college student. He softly shut the door and brought his bottom lip between his teeth in thought.
Maybe he could make it up to you.
────
Yoongi was the last person you expected to be greeted by outside your door on a Tuesday evening. But there he stood, sporting a plain, white t-shirt under a denim jacket.
“Oh, hi! Was not expecting you,” you said. You didn’t realise how unwelcoming the words sounded until they tumbled from your lips, but Yoongi didn’t seem to catch on.
“Yeah, uh- Look, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that you broke your voucher tryna help me so I got you this as an apology.”
He held out a brown, paper bag in front of him and you realise that the lettering printed on it read the name of the restaurant. You caught a glimpse of the plastic packaging of takeaway which confirmed your suspicions.
“Yoongi, I couldn’t possibly take this. I helped you out because you helped me out, and the voucher wasn’t even that big of a deal, genuinely!”
You reached out your hand to push the bag towards him again, but his grip persisted.
“Please?”
The word fell from his lips softly, almost a whisper, and you felt your heart skip a few beats. His eyes fell on yours for a split second before he broke his gaze. You didn’t have it in you to reject his kind gesture, but at the same time, you felt guilty if you did accept it.
“What about we share it? That makes it fair, right?”
“I- I don’t know-.”
“Please?” You’re voice mimicked his tone from when he had spoked the exact same word. “I’ll feel too guilty if I just take it. My roommates are both out for the night, so we can eat it together if you want.”
Yoongi hesitated, but the idea of spending time with you felt nice.
“Okay.”
Your lips curled into a bright smile as you invited him inside. Yoongi waited for you to close and lock the door, and followed you as you led him to your kitchen. He placed the paper bag onto the smooth, marble countertop as you pulled out two plates from the white cabinets that stretched up to the ceiling.
You began to take out all the containers and spread them out over the counter.
“There’s so much bro, I would not have been able to finish this,” you said with a smile that Yoongi returned.
“I mean, you could’ve shared it with your roommates.”
“Mhm, I guess. I rather share it with you though.”
The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned pink as he let out a timid chuckle. Honestly, you didn’t know what gave you the confidence, but you enjoyed the reactions you garnered from the brunet boy.
He helped you as both of you filled your plates with food. The aroma that easily spread across the kitchen made your mouths water, and you dug in as soon as you brought over chopsticks and spoons for the two of you.
“Damnn, this is good,” you said with a moan of satisfaction. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you spoke and Yoongi hummed in agreement. His own eyes fluttered shut as he savoured the taste.
“So, what do you do?” You asked before putting another spoonful of food into your mouth.
“I’m in a band. That’s why I moved here, actually. The other members thought we’d be more productive if we all lived together but I’m starting to doubt that."
You chuckle. “A band? Damn, that’s so cool."
Yoongi shrugged his shoulders. “I mean it is and I love all the members and all but...it can get tiring sometimes, y’know.”
Even though you couldn’t exactly relate to him, you nodded understandingly with a hum.
“You should play me one of your songs!”
“Uh- no.”
You shot him a scowl at his immediate rejection of the idea.
“Whyy? I won’t judge, I swear.”
Yoongi closed his eyes with a playfully pained expression on his face as you practically begged him for a chance to listen to one of his songs.
“I’ll show it to you eventually. Maybe.”
“Yah! No maybes, you’re definitely showing it to me next time!”
Next time. Yoongi couldn’t wait for the next time he could see you again.
A smooth conversation ensued after you both had taken a few more bites of the food. You felt oddly comfortable in front of him. You didn’t feel the need to cover your mouth when you laughed or hold back on your words, didn’t feel the need to hide away any part of yourself.
You felt like you could be yourself, and the feeling was strange. It caused a tug of warmth in your heart.
Soon enough, both of you had scoffed most of the food. You began to store the rest of the takeaway in sealed bowls and Yoongi moved to the dishes in the sink.
“Ah, you can just leave them, I’ll do them later,” you said, but Yoongi washed them anyway. A part of you was grateful that he did, as washing the dishes was one of your least favourite chores.
You took the plates he had rinsed and placed them into the dishwasher. Silence filled the air, only broken by the quiet ticking of the clock that hung on your wall, but the atmosphere was far from tense or awkward. Neither of you felt the need to try to start a random conversation and simply focused on the tasks at hand.
“Thanks so much, for the food and the cleaning up. I really do appreciate it!” You said as you wiped your hands dry on a small cloth.
“It’s no problem, really.”
You opened the door for him as he slipped into his shoes.
“We need to actually go to the restaurant someday, get the full experience y’know?”
Yoongi smiled with a nod.
“We can arrange a day over the phone if you want?”
“I’d love that!”
Yoongi fished out his phone from the back pocket of his darkly coloured jeans in an instant and typed in your number as you called it out to him.
“See you soon, ___.”
“Byee.”
You gave a quick wave of your hand which he returned before he began walking back down to his apartment. You couldn’t hide the content smile on your face as closed the door, eagerly grabbing your phone from the counter.
Yoongi sent you a text less than a minute later, and you added his number to your contacts.
You too couldn’t wait for the next time.
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natsglorifiedsimp · 9 months
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Something Changed 2
A/N: You guys asked for it.
Taglist: @queen2234 @pipsipey17 @casquinhaa @natashajumpinoff @natsxwife @dark-hunter16 @i-lovescarlettjohansson @mrsrushman @tropicals-things @alianovnasposts @nova-kyle @jusnough @splzq @yellowthingsstuff
Part 1
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Tasha's POV
"Hey, Maria!" Natasha called.
Natasha noticed the subtle eye rolling of Maria. She squinted her eyes. It was unusual for Maria to act like that especially cause she's been helping her get to date you.
"What do you want Natasha?" she grumbled.
Natasha was taken aback by this. "Jeez, I'm just asking about Y/n." another eye-roll was given to Natasha. "Have you seen her? I haven't seen her on campus."
"Glad you noticed, Natasha" she sarcastically said. Maria feigned a thinking posture and started to glare at Natasha, "Let's see hmm" Maria said with diction.
"How about the fact that you've been ignoring her since you and Wanda dated and now she's gone off to Los Angeles leaving us behind because of you!" Maria gritted her teeth trying to contain her anger because you were in the hallway where students were passing around thinking Natasha and Maria were doing a secret drug deal.
"W-what?" Natasha stuttered. "I-I haven't ignored her."
"Save me the drama, Natasha. All you think about is yourself." Maria said.
Natasha was so confused. She didn't know what she did to you. She hurriedly texted you, hoping you'd give her some explanation but all was left delivered. That's not usually you. You always reply as soon as you see the message pop.
Natasha back reads you guys' conversation. Seeing if there were any clues on when are you going to LA or something that would hint at anything.
But all she saw was how she neglected you. She could see in every message how much you needed her. She missed your rants, your rambles, and everything that you guys would do when you hang out.
She broke her promise.
Y/n's POV
LA was different. The school was fine so far. No one dumped milk on your hair yet. No one made fun of you yet. And you were hoping it would stay that way.
The new environment was hard for you. It is hard to start a conversation with people when you don't know who they are. Natasha always does the talking. But somehow in this world, you are the one who needs to adjust.
Even if the people were friendly, throwing a smile at you or saying hi, somehow you still felt timid and awkward. You were scared to make friends.
Cause you know they will leave again.
Natasha did. What could any of these peer's differences be?
You cried every night knowing you had no one cared. That even if you consider them your best friends they will never think of you the same way. You were an option. You are a pawn to someone's real agenda.
You cried because you knew how much you cherished friendships. You knew to yourself that you would care and love people and go out of your way just to be there for them.
But somehow with you, it was always the opposite.
You are left alone, and when you thought someone cared...
She never really was.
Natasha's POV
She tried calling you a million times, even called your parents just to have a chance to talk to you. To apologize. But you were too far gone.
She may have found the love of her life but she left you. She left you feeling like she didn't care. She disregarded your feelings and put herself first. She took advantage of you.
Natasha regretted everything that she did. Everything that she broke. She knew how much you value friendships and she also knew how to break it.
There were no more Y/n. The laughter you shared is now a glimpse of memories that she wished would last forever. Love may have come her way but she didn't have to run you over just to find it.
You were her person.
But i guess...
Loving involves losing right?
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
Text
Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 
Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 
First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 
It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 
The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 
As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 
Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 
Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 
Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 
Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.
Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 
Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 
"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 
"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 
"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 
"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 
"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 
"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 
He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 
Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  
The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 
 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 
Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 
"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"
They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 
Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 
A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 
Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.
"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 
Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 
He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 
“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 
Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 
The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 
“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 
One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 
“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 
Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 
Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 
He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 
Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 
“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 
Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 
“Did he do that?” He asked. 
Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 
Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 
“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 
It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 
Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 
As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 
"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 
“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 
The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 
Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 
“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 
The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 
“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 
This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 
"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”
"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 
Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 
Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 
Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 
Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 
“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 
Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 
 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 
"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 
 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.
 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.
"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”
"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 
Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 
"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 
"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 
“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 
He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 
“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.
One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 
The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 
It was fake as hell, but it worked. 
“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  
 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 
xXx 
Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 
He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 
It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 
It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 
They really were looking for someone. 
Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.
Them. 
Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 
“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 
She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 
His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.
“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 
Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 
Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 
Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 
"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 
"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 
He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 
Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.
Food workers.
Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 
"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 
Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  
‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 
“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 
Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 
"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 
Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 
Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 
Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 
Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 
What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 
Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 
‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 
Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 
Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 
Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 
Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 
It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  
Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 
Worse?
This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 
Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.
Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.
What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 
“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 
The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order. 
1K notes · View notes
monimccoythings · 1 month
Text
Mending each other's hearts II
Jesus, this took forever. I'm having so much fun writing this, for real. However I think I'll have to do a third part because GOSH do I love angstiness and suffering. One thing I also love is Jean being a wingman and such a cool friend I want to work more with that.
tw: logan is a caveman and a brute, and possibly emotionally constipated, really; a bit angsty.
I have no idea about clubs, I just googled New York clubs and picked the coolest looking.
tags: @kathieycarrerarosshley (I'm not sure if there's anybody else, sorry, I don't usually check the notes :()
Part I │ Part II (You're here!!)
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He basically jumped down the stairs, nearly crashing into several innocent students. Like Hell he was going to allow you to do that to yourself. You were not some cheap whore who did one-night-stands. You were so sweet, so innocent, that the thought of having anyone touch you inappropriately, rubbing themselves against your body, tainting you with their dirty hands made his stomach churn and his claws start to come out.
Despite running as if the literal Devil was chasing him, all his efforts were for nothing, because when he barged through the front doors of the mansion he could already hear the gears of your car speeding up, miles away. Fuck, he was too late; but maybe, if he traced your scent, if he went now to his motorbike he may be able to catch you and stop this madness. As he turned around, he narrowly avoided his keys being psychically thrown towards him. Jean looked at him with a determined look on her face.
“Lavo, go. NOW.” Her voice commanded no objection, and for once, he would happily obey orders.
He usually was very careful with his motorbike, an old lady deserved to be treated with respect, but not tonight, there was not a second to lose. Muttering a quiet apology to his dear ride, he sped off towards the city, silently praying to a god he didn’t believe in that you hadn’t done anything you would regret later.
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You felt a sense of excitement settle in your lower belly. Look at you, a grown adult, dressing up all cute and going on your own adventures in the Big Apple, you felt like you were going to squeal like a little girl, either that or you needed to stop the car and puke.
You knew exactly where to go, where the good stuff would be; under normal conditions you wouldn’t be allowed in, so that’s why you were planning to use your powers to sneak in. Maybe you were just some plain teacher at a private school for mutants but that didn’t mean you didn’t have tricks up your sleeve.
A sudden memory of the real reason this was all about, made your heart twist with ache and longing. The memory of Logan and Jean in that empty classroom would be forever engraved inside your mind, a confirmation that no matter what you did, you would never be enough. No. You mentally slapped yourself. You couldn’t keep torturing yourself like that. The only thing invisible about you were your powers. Tonight, you were going to feel beautiful, appreciated, and most importantly, desired. A pang of anxiety hitted you, what if nobody notices? The real possibility of being made into a fool once again was scary and nearly made you turn away and return home with your tail between your legs. They will. Maybe it was that part of you that had been kicked long enough talking, you would never know, but it gave you enough confidence to keep going.
You made sure to park your car as far as you could, you didn’t want anything to associate you with that little stunt you were about to pull. You casually walked into a nearby alleyway to turn yourself invisible, the last thing this night needed was a public scandal. 
There was truly something magical about walking down the street while you were invisible, it made you feel confident and powerful. Nobody could harm you if they didn’t know you were there. You watched couples pass by pampering each other, a group of drunk college freshmans trying their best to walk in a straight line, you could observe every single detail on them without feeling like a creep. Sometimes you wondered why you didn't have your mutation on at all times. It certainly would make your life easier.
Before you knew it, you had already arrived at your destination. Taking advantage of some rich boy skipping line, you glued yourself to his back and entered, making a little squeal that startled the poor security guard.
The place took your breath away.
Lavo was one of the most exclusive clubs in all of Manhattan. One night there (paying the entrance and restaurant, of course) would probably cost you half your salary. You knew Charles could afford it, but you weren’t going to ask him to bill the start of your party girl era.
A sudden realization left you filled with embarrassment; you had entered, now what. In a desperate way to fit in, you decided that the most suitable course of action would be to look for a place to turn visible again and go for a drink.
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Logan lost count of how many traffic laws he broke that night, he didn’t really care. All he wanted was to reach you. Each time he imagined a worse scenario that somehow always ended with you in the arms of another man, enjoying his caresses and kisses. He panicked, making his grip on the handlebar painfully tighten. He didn’t know why he was feeling like that, and he also didn’t know what he would do if he found you with a suitor.
He wasn’t impressed at all by the imposing building, and he was less impressed by the regulars. Bunch of spoiled rich brats, if someone asks him.
The security guard wasn’t in the mood to let him in and less while looking like that, but since he didn’t have time nor the patience to deal with any form of bullshit, he opted to launch him across the street with a single punch instead of pulling out his claws, leaving the crowd completely silent.
The inside was as bad as the outside, or even worse. He didn’t like that place at all, too many people, too much noise and too many smells. It overwhelmed him. How the fuck was he supposed to find you there. He showed his way among the crowd, ignoring the grunts and complaints from the people surrounding him, fuck them all. His heightened senses were practically screaming at him to go wild and ravage the place until he got you.
His hunting instincts told him to look for some dark corner where he could keep a close watch on the entire club, it’d be easier, and quieter for him. He could do without all that modern music drilling his ears. Some goddamned peace and tranquility would help him focus.
He didn’t need to wait for long until his eyes settled on you. On the dancefloor, with a glass in your hand, and a man glued to your back with his lips dangerously close to your neck.
Logan saw red.
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As you took a sip of your grasshopper, you wondered why you had been worried in the first place. Just one look at how that dress hugged your ass and you had several men eating from your palm. You had to confess that even if it flattered you, it was a bit suffocating having that much attention all of a sudden.
The man you had picked for the night, Kelsey? Kevin?, you hadn't heard it well with the lous music, was actually kinda nice. Out of all of the men that surrounded you he had been the only one to actually try to start some friendly conversation before hitting on you. That sweet attempt just earned him some brownie points. That and that body which seemed to have been sculpted by the gods. Damn, what did they feed him?. His hands moved closely to your hips, and you couldn’t help but wish those arms that held you were bigger, and hairier. You shook your head. Focus on the Adonis right behind you. The one who was going to make you feel so good tonight. You could already imagine it.
But fantasies were just that. Fantasies.
An altercation snapped you out of your daydream. Someone was pushing his way quite violently towards the dancefloor, and by the sound of those screams of protest he wasn’t being very gentle.
The blood froze in your veins when you saw who was approaching. No. How. Why. Millions of questions ran through your mind, your body screaming at you to run, but you were paralyzed with fear.
You had never seen that look on Logan.
Feral.
Wild.
Monster.
You had heard people describe him with those words since the very first day you had met him. Coming from both humans and mutants. You had never paid them any attention, being so confident in knowing that despite his gruff exterior, inside there was hidden a golden heart just as big as his muscles. But now you were considering that despite knowing that, maybe the others had some point in their arguments.
You would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a little.
He was getting closer. Unconsciously, you put yourself in front of your dancing partner, despite knowing that whatever little mutant trick you had was useless against The Wolverine’s blind fury. Yet, you weren’t going to let some innocent civilian get hurt because your friend was pissed at you for whatever stupid reason.
His eyes were unfocused, darting from one person to the other like a wild animal. You weren’t sure if he was able to see you at all.
“Logan. What are you doing here?” You tried to keep your voice steady, knowing that when he got like this, anything could really set him off and then all Hell would break loose. He grunted and finally looked at you. Pupils dilating when he got a better look of you in that dress.
“Home. Now.” Among all the noise it was hard to understand him, but whatever he’d said you were sure it wouldn’t benefit you in the slightest. It didn't help that those words resembled more growls than actual speech.
Your new friend, supposedly Kevin, tried to step forward, foolishly thinking he had a chance against one of the most vicious mutants to ever exist. Logan looked at him with barely restrained rage, breathing heavily. His stance, along with the strength the air came out of his nostrils reminded you of a bull ready to attack. You started fearing the worst.
Within a blink, Logan had grabbed your arm and was forcefully dragging you towards the emergency exit. You slammed your heels against the floor, trying to keep you grounded in your spot, but that only seemed to make him angrier. Quickly reaching down, he scooped you up and carried you over his broad shoulder, making you drop your drink and leaving you mortified to the point of nearly accidentally outing yourself as a mutant in a room full of people.
After what felt like the longest time of your lfe, you two made it outside that place and after several kicks and threats, he finally put you down in an alleyway where all the shame that filled you, all the embarrassment, turned into rage.
Why.
Why couldn't he let you have this?
Why wouldn’t he allow you to move on?
Why did he have to keep breaking your heart over and over again? Hadn’t you suffered enough?
You screamed at him, you pushed him and insulted him until your voice became hoarse. The force of your screams were drowned by the sound of an incoming storm. And he just stood there, taking it all in stride, just looking at you, like a marble statue. A less wise person would have thought he was bored, just waiting for you to scream your heart out and finish your tantrum. But his eyes, oh his gorgeous eyes that always made you melt, were filled with emotion. Could be guilt, could be pain, could be grief, they were passing far too quickly for you to notice.
Yet he still didn’t say anything which only fueled your anger. The nerve of him, the fucking audacity. You felt mocked, humiliated, the laughingstock of Xavier’s School; a silly woman in her early thirties with a pathetic little girl crush on a man who wouldn’t give her the time of the day.
You slapped him as hard as you could.
Probably not the smartest thing given his bones were made of the toughest metal to ever exist which you instantly felt when your hand made contact with his cheek. You bit your lip, trying to swallow down the agonizing scream of pain that was crawling up your throat to get out.
That made him react, his expression changing into one of concern. He tried to say something, move closer to you and check your hand, but you stepped back, your back pressed against the brick wall.
Holding your injured hand with your other, you lowered your head. Rain started pouring on you both, drenching your carefully groomed hair and wiping all that expensive makeup away. But at least it would hide the tears that fell freely though your cheeks. 
What a mess you were, drenched like a wet cat, with your makeup ruined and sobbing while the man of your dreams just watched you with pity. You should leave and lock yourself in your room. Turning invisible again, you tried to make your exit towards your car, knowing it would be a long walk full of cries and sobs, but his arm blocked you, damn that sharp sense of smell. you turned around and his other arm blocked you again, effectively trapping you between himself and the wall.
Suddenly you found yourself very tired, of his games, of being screwed over and over again, of your emotional burst. You just wanted to go home, take a bath, and sleep. You couldn’t do this anymore.
“Please. I want to go home.” There must have been something in your voice so broken that caused him to immediately take action. Logan suddenly had the decency to look a bit ashamed of himself, after that stunt he pulled off at the club, however you couldn’t care less right now. Muttering a quick ‘yeah’ he slowly pulled away from you, and awkwardly stepped back.
Not being used to walking on heels, you would have fell face first against the ground, putting the icing on the cake of that terrible night, had not a pair of strong arms caught you and lifted you into a bridal carry.
Not so long ago, you would have been all over the moon at this gesture. Logan Howlett, the hunk of the X-Mansion, carrying you like a princess. Yeah, the old you would have loved that.
Right now you were feeling too emotionally numb to care. Even when his arms pulled you closer to his chest, even when he softly pressed his lips against the crown of your head.
You just couldn’t feel anything.
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roosterforme · 2 years
Text
Red Flags, Green Flags | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Hangman complains about his date’s red flags, but Bradley thinks this girl sounds amazing. 
Warnings: Fluff!
Length: 1900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Check out my masterlist for more.
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Hangman tossed some darts listlessly at the dartboard and sighed.  "What's your problem, man?" Bradley asked. "You look miserable tonight." "Yeah, you usually get off on beating us at darts. What's wrong?" Phoenix asked.  "I have a girl meeting me here for a second date in a little while," Hangman drawled, sipping his whiskey. "I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have asked her out again." Payback snorted. "What's wrong with her? She not hot enough for you?"
Bradley rolled his eyes. That was probably the case as each girl Jake dated somehow looked more like a model than the previous one. "Nah, she's real cute," Hangman said, scratching his chin. "She's just giving off some red flags for me. I think I was momentarily blinded by her face when I asked her out again, because she's definitely not my type." "What red flags does she have?" Phoenix asked, taking her turn at darts.  Bradley settled into his seat to listen. This ought to be good. "Well, she's really close with her family. Likes spending time with them," Jake said with a frown. Bradley's brow scrunched up; he thought that sounded pretty nice, actually. "And she volunteers all the time. At the library and the animal shelter and the soup kitchen. She's always so busy, it took forever to even schedule the first date! So I don't see this lasting past tonight," Jake added, finishing his drink. "She sounds pretty good to me," Bradley said cautiously. Actually she sounded really great. "You could always volunteer with her one day, then you'd get to spend some time with her." Jake scoffed. "I'd rather just find a girl who wants to spend her time with me," he said, flashing his charming smile. "This one is finishing graduate school for social work and likes to take her grandma to bingo. Plus, she definitely seems like the kind of girl who would wanna hold hands all the time." He grimaced as he finished.  Bradley just gaped at the other aviator, rendered speechless, because Jake had just described his dream girl. Cute, smart, helpful, loving, independent, and kind. And if she agreed to a second date with Jake, then she was definitely interested in him. "What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?" "Oh shit, there she is," Jake grumbled, setting down his glass and heading toward the bar. Bradley stood up and stared as Jake approached a beautiful woman with a stunning smile.   "Is he for real?" Bradley asked Phoenix in a dreamy voice. "She's awesome." "He's an idiot, but we already knew that," Phoenix told him with a smirk. "Why don't you go talk to her, Rooster. She's adorable." Bradley shook his head. "I can't, Nat. She's on a date with him!" But the more Bradley watched you and Jake together, it seemed like you weren't really into him either. You were smiling, but it wasn't reaching your eyes, and you had your arms crossed as Jake chatted with you. "Hmmm, fuck it," Bradley muttered as he took a deep breath and headed for the bar.  ---------------------------------------- Jake was nice and attractive, but he wasn't really doing anything for you. And now you were starting to regret agreeing to meet him here. You'd been contemplating calling him all day and canceling for tonight and any future dates, but you ultimately decided to give it one more shot.  But now you weren't paying any attention to him at all, because your eyes just landed on the most handsome man you'd seen in a long time walking up to the bar near where you were standing. He was literally the definition of tall, dark and handsome, and wearing a fun Hawaiian shirt. And he was looking right at you.  You felt yourself smile at him like an idiot when he grinned at you from behind Jake. He had a mustache that somehow made him look cute and playful. You wished he would say something to you. Oh shit, you hadn't heard anything Jake was saying.  You tried to pry your attention away from the newcomer, but then he rested a hand on Jake's shoulder and said, "Hey, Hangman, you gonna introduce me to your new friend?"  His voice! You were biting the inside of your cheek to keep calm, because this man's voice was sexy. Like pillow talk sexy, and making out in a movie theater sexy.  "Uh, sure," Jake replied, looking mildly annoyed. "Y/N, this is Rooster. Rooster, this is Y/N." "That's a pretty name," Rooster told you with a crooked grin, and it took you a second to realize he was talking about you. "Thanks," you replied with a laugh. "Rooster must be your call sign? You're an aviator, too?" "Yeah, my name's Bradley." "Bradley, it's nice to meet you." You liked his name, and his silly call sign. You liked the way he was looking at you and his kind brown eyes.  "Jake didn't get you a drink? That's not very nice, Jake," Bradley said to your date who just shrugged. "I'll get you one. What do you want, Y/N?"  You had to bite your lip before you accidentally replied with 'you'.  "Gin and tonic," you told him, and you watched as he was instantly flagging down a bartender. His huge bicep was flexing below his sleeve as he leaned against the bar and turned toward you. "So, Jake was telling us all about you," he said, and you were surprised once again to find Jake was still in your proximity, because Bradley had your full attention now. "Really?" you asked, eyeing Jake, surprised he would have been telling anyone about you. There wasn't much to tell after the first date. He didn't seem that interested in you, and you hadn't even kissed him goodnight.  "Yeah, he said you're getting a master's degree, and that you like volunteering and hanging out with your grandma," Bradley said, handing your drink to you when it arrived.  "Um, yeah, I do," you said with a blush as Jake smirked at you.  But you turned your attention back to Bradley when he spoke again. "That's cool. I volunteer with Big Brothers and Big Sisters as a youth mentor. And I used to love knitting with my grandma when I was a kid. I'm still pretty good at it, actually." Your jaw was hanging open, and you were having a hard time speaking. Was he for real? You took a sip of your drink and tried to gather your thoughts. Was it okay to ditch Jake and hang out with Bradley instead?  "I volunteer a few times a week, but I always make sure I have time to take my Nana to bingo," you said with a laugh when Bradley smiled at you. "You're really a youth mentor?" "Yeah, last week I took some kids on a hike to the state park beach, and Wednesday evening I'm going to teach them how to bake a cake," he told you before finishing his beer and setting down the bottle. "That's sexy," you said, surprising yourself and Bradley. But you didn't regret saying it. Not one bit. Because Bradley's cheeks flushed pink, and your eyes were drawn to his scars that you were itching to touch.  A startled laugh escaped his lips. "You think so?" "Yeah," you said, nodding your head fervently. Bradley shifted closer to you, and you noticed that Jake was nowhere to be found.  ---------------------------------------
Bradley liked you. A lot. You were absolutely gorgeous to look at, but you were also smart and funny and interesting. The more he asked you about yourself, the more interested he was.  You told him about school and your family and how much you loved going to the beach. And now you were so close to him, you were tracing his watch band with your fingers while you talked.  "I think it's sweet that you used to knit with your grandma. Mine is practically a professional bingo player, she wins almost every week. And she's really cocky about it too," you said, and Bradley laughed. "She is! She likes to gloat about it when she plays shuffleboard." "She sounds fun," he told you. "And just so you know, I'm pretty good at bingo, and grandmas love me." "I'll bet they do." You actually giggled. He was making you giggle. God, he didn't want this night to end. He was trying to think of a way to ask you out, without making it awkward for you or Jake. "So what kind of cake are you baking on Wednesday?" you asked him playfully.  "Not sure yet, but I was thinking about chocolate. You wanna come over and help?" Bradley couldn't explain it, but the idea of you helping him with the baking project had him excited. "You could stay and hang out afterwards. Maybe we could watch a movie together and have some of the cake?" "Are you asking me on a date while I'm technically still on a date with Jake?" you asked him with a grin. "Oh, your date with Jake ended a good thirty minutes ago," he informed you with a very serious look. "Now you're on a first date with me. You having fun?" You started laughing and looked away as your cheeks flushed. "A lot of fun, actually. I like you. You had me at youth mentor and really sealed the deal when you offered to feed me chocolate cake." Bradley couldn't stop smiling. "Can I get your phone number?" "Yes," you replied, and Bradley noticed you and he were standing so close now, your bodies were practically touching.  He watched you type your name and number into his phone as he asked, "You'll come over on Wednesday then? For our second date?" "Yes," you replied, handing his phone back to him with a smirk, but your lips were twitching like you wanted to laugh.  "Since we're going out now, is it cool if I kiss you?" Bradley asked with a smirk of his own. Your lips looked so soft, and Bradley really wanted to touch you.  You smiled up at him and said, "That was pretty smooth," before running your fingers along his scarred neck and up into his hair, pulling him closer.  Bradley leaned down until his lips met yours, and it was the perfect kiss. You were perfect for him. He put his hands around your waist and pulled you a little closer, kissing you a little deeper.  When you pulled back, you pressed your lips together. "Text me your address and I'll be there on Wednesday. For cake baking assistance and our second date." "I will. I can't wait to see you again," Bradley replied, and it was the truth. Bradley walked you to your car, and with one more sweet kiss you were gone. When Bradley went back inside to settle his tab, Jake approached him. "You stole my date," Jake drawled, shaking his head but smiling. Bradley just grinned at Hangman. "It's pretty funny when you think about how she completely ditched you for me. Maybe I'll let you give a speech about it at the wedding."
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SO FLUFFY! Thanks for reading!
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fanficsformyfaves · 3 months
Text
I Don't Wanna Live Forever Pt.2
Rhea Ripley x Fem Prostitute!Reader (Pt.1)
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WARNING: ANGST, Depressive Episode, Harassment, Bar Fight, Violence, Confrontation, Confessions, Hurt to Comfort
PREFACE: Reader was Rhea's favorite girl to call on a Saturday night, but little did she know that the wrestler was falling harder and harder with each visit
A/N: Special Appearance by The Judgment Day!
Shed a couple tears over this, but it's cool
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The radio silence was unbearable. It had been weeks and with each day that passed, I began to regret what I did more and more. If I'd truly done the right thing, why didn't it feel like it? Why did it feel like I'd just lost a part of myself losing her? I had only myself to blame, so it was unfair of me to be angry at her, but I was.
I was angry at the longing stares and the gentle caresses against my bare skin. I was angry at the inside jokes and little secrets that were shared beneath her sheets. I was angry at all the nights we spent in each others arms. All the things that got me in this mess in the first place, but most of all...I was angry at myself.
Angry that I was too much of a coward to tell her that her feelings were in fact reciprocated.
With where my head was at and how devasting everything was, I decided to completely resign from the service that was using me. In no world could I imagine continuing to be in other peoples beds, when all I wanted was to be in hers. Out of every low point I'd hit before, this was by far the worst one.
I could barely get out of bed without tears immediately streaming down my face. Days felt empty and nights felt suffocating like my body knew something was missing. Even simple tasks like eating and breathing had now become burdensome.
I didn't know whether or not I'd make it out of this one, but by some miracle, I was met with a chance at starting over.
An old friend of mine that used to work with me in the same service recently reached out upon hearing about my departure from one of the other girls. I found out, shortly after leaving, that she got a job at a bar closer to the city and that they were hiring new drink-runners. The pay was decent and I needed something to keep me busy, so of course, I said yes to being interviewed.
I sent in my resume, went in on Monday and the next morning, I got a call saying I was hired, which brings us to right now.
The night started of fine with me just serving the drinks and food, when I heard the bell signaling someone came in. It was a group of obnoxiously loud men that immediately had me and my friend rolling our eyes. I picked up some menus and reluctantly headed over to the table they chose.
"Welcome, what can I get started for you guys?", I say,
Placing down the laminated papers.
"No fucking way!", I heard one of them exclaim,
And when I turn to see who it was, my heart dropped. It was a guy that I previously serviced.
"Yes?", I asked,
Playing clueless.
"Oh, come on, don't tell me you don't recognize me...or the fun little night we had"
I could tell by the way he slurred his words that he was incredibly drunk. His group immediately began snickering and raking their eyes up and down my body.
"I'm sorry, sir. You must be thinking of someone else"
"Nah, I'd recognize those tits anywhere", he declared,
Causing 'oohs' to echo from the table.
I held my composure and took a deep breath through my nose.
"Excuse me, gentlemen", I said,
Walking away and heading back to the bar.
"What's up?", my friend asked,
Seeing the irritated expression on my face.
"Old clients at table 6"
"Ugh, again? Do they not have jobs? They're here every night"
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, you haven't been scheduled past 8 yet, so you were lucky enough not to run into them", she explained,
"Well, I guess I'm shit outta luck now", I joked.
And as if the universe couldn't have had worse timing, another group walks in and the sinking feeling in my chest had now become a burning sting.
"Wait, isn't that-"
Before my friend could get her words out, I immediately hid in the kitchen. I hear her calling out to me as I left, but didn't bother turning back to look.
Out of any place on earth and out of any bar, she just had to show up at the one that I work at? This had to have been some sick joke. What was I meant to do now? It's not like I could just leave and risk getting in trouble on my second week.
I stayed still a few minutes to recollect myself and once I was successful, I take in one last deep breath, before heading back out.
"You've got this", my friend reassured,
Handing me four menus.
I made my way towards her table and the closer I got, the harder it became for the both of us to ignore the other's gaze.
"Welcome, what can I get started for you guys?", I say,
Putting on my best customer service voice.
"I'll take chicken tenders", the one with the mullet answered,
"We both want steaks, medium rare", the tallest added on,
As I jotted down their orders.
"Alright and...for you, miss?", I asked,
The hesitance in my voice giving my nerves away.
"Just some gin for now", she answered,
Avoiding eye contact.
As painful as it was, I decided against asking any further questions at the risk of making things any more uncomfortable.
"Those should be right out", I nod my head,
Walking off, but as I was headed towards the serving hatch to put the orders in, I felt a hand grab my wrist.
"What time do you get off?", the asshole from earlier questioned,
Causing me to rip my arm away.
"Excuse you", I scolded,
Going to turn away, when he grabbed me by the arm next. I could feel the panic start to set in and my eyes start to water.
"Get off, seriously", my words trembled,
"Oh, what? Does the slut think she's too good for m-", his sentence was cut short by a tissue holder hitting the back of his head,
Causing him to fall over.
"She said get off", Rhea warned through gritted teeth,
"Handle this, I'm taking her home", she ordered her friends,
They all turn to each other smirking, before sauntering over to the table full of the guy's friends. They all immediately took off, leaving him behind to fend for himself.
"Come on", she urged,
"My shift isn't over", I shakily muttered,
She sighed, taking out her wallet.
"Dom, make sure to let the manager knows what happened and that (Y/N) went home", she instructed,
Pulling out a couple hundreds, before dropping them on the table.
"You got it, mami", he said,
Picking up the guy and dragging him outside with the help of the other two men.
"Wait, what are they-"
"Doesn't matter. Come on", she throws an arm over my shoulder,
Leading me outside and helping me into her car. The last thing I saw before driving off was the three men completely pummeling the guy into a pulp. Not to say he didn't deserve it, but, I still couldn't help but feel uneasy.
The car ride wasn't much help either. Besides the quite hum that came from the engine and the passing cars, it was mostly silent. She must've noticed, as her hand gently gripped my knee in an attempt to calm me down.
"Are you hurt?", she finally spoke,
"My arm's sore", I answered hesitantly,
Causing her to let out a shaky exhale through her nose.
He did yank me pretty hard, so I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up to a handprint on me.
"We're almost at mine", she lets me know.
As if I didn't already recognize the street we were on. I mean I'd been down this road too many times not to.
"We're here"
She pulls into her driveway and gets out to open my door for me. She then leads me into the house, urging me to take a seat on the sofa.
"I'll get an icebag. Wait, here"
"It's fine-"
Before I could object, she had already left the living room.
The tension was so apparent, I felt it in my bones. She was cold and guarded, but I had no right to fault her for it. I was the one who ended things and now, I had to lay in the bed I made.
She returns with the ice and lifts my sleeve to press it against the bruise, causing me to wince at the ache.
"Who was that guy, anyways?", she questioned,
"An old client. I don't work there anymore though"
For the first time this whole evening, her eyes finally met mine.
"What?"
"I quit last month. I couldn't do it anymore", I admitted,
As her gaze softened.
"Why?"
"It's not important", I tried to brush off,
"(Y/N)"
"It doesn't matter-"
"(Y/N)", she called sternly,
Causing tears to prick at my eyes.
"Did someone hurt you?"
"No-"
"Then what?"
What was I meant to say? That I was the cause of my own hurting? That I left the only life I'd known because someone showed me that I deserved better than that? That that person was her?
"Then...what?", she pressed further.
With a single tear rolling down my cheek, I finally confessed.
"Because of you", my voice waivered.
Her eyes widened, as she slowly put the icepack down.
"Since the last time we spoke, I've been going through the worst time"
A tear rolled down my cheek and my entire body began to chill. Her brows met in a sadness that was too deep to describe.
“I thought I could get over it, but I couldn’t have been more wrong and it didn’t hit me till I left your house”
“Then why did you?”
“I…”
It was as if all the words were caught in my throat with no way out.
What was I meant to say? What could I say? Anything I thought of wouldn’t excuse the way I’d walked out on her. I would be lucky if she could’ve even look me in the eyes again, much less forgive me.
“I was a coward”
She shakes her head, averting her gaze down to her lap.
“So much so that it made me lose you”
I hear a sigh and I couldn’t decipher whether she was disappointed or annoyed.
“I should’ve stayed. I should’ve given this a fighting chance. It was unfair, cruel and undeserved. You were the first person to show me kindness and it scared me. I didn't know how to receive that kind of care and I know that isn't an excuse, but that was the reason and I can't tell you how sorry I am"
The silence was the most painful part. It sent knives straight through my chest and there was nothing I could do to alleviate that burn.
“I understand if you want me to leave. I deserve that”, I sobbed,
Picking at the lose thread on my uniform, when she takes my hand.
“I don’t want that”, she finally spoke,
"You leaving did hurt me and it was something that I thought I'd be angry for, but...I wasn't. I was sad. Sad because I thought you didn't care for me the way I cared for you. You were my favorite part of every single waking moment. Your laugh, your smile, the way you talk, the heart you have, I've never seen anything like it"
I felt every piece of me break with each word.
"This whole time, that's all I could think about. That you didn't feel the same", she continued,
Gathering her own tears now.
"Rhea", I muttered,
Taking her face into my hands.
"You don't understand how much I love you"
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saturnville · 4 months
Text
centavito, jude bellingham
pairing: jude bellingham x she (black fem oc/reader) warning: none. just short. content: he wants her back and the chance is small, but he bets on his lucky coin that it'll work in his favor. song reference: centavito by romeo santos. an: it's been over 6 years since I wrote a football-related fic, so please give me some grace lol. and ofc, when I saw that there weren't many jude fics with a black reader/oc, I had slide one in there.
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“I learned my lesson and I have been miserable without you. Please…one more chance.” 
The coin he twirled in his pocket was warm. His hands had fisted it tightly the entire walk to her front door. When he spoke, he turned it between his index finger and thumb over and over. There was only one way that it could go and that was up. So he hoped. 
She heard the voice of her grandmother in her ears as he took in his words. “If he fools you once, that’s on him! But, if he fools you again, he can’t be solely responsible. So, some people do change and I’m not gonna tell you he hasn’t, but it’s up to you to discern that for yourself, baby.” 
He didn’t cheat on her. He wasn’t mean, conniving, or deceitful. He simply didn’t appreciate her. When his life turned upside down and he became the wonder boy of the world, he forgot about her. She was pushed into the shadows when he promised she’d always be in the light. 
Suddenly, her rants about university exams and assignments weren’t interesting. Her love for the arts wasn’t fascinating. Long nights watching La Casa de Papel in her living room weren’t fun. Their nights in the kitchen trying new recipes were no longer a priority. She was no longer a priority. 
So, she left. She slid the promise ring off her middle finger, dropped it on his nightstand, and with tears in her eyes (and her head held high), she gathered her purse and went back to her apartment. She gathered all he’d gifted her and placed it in the box meticulously. Clothes and jerseys, books and letters--all prepared to be put into storage until she figured out where she truly wanted them to go. 
And just as she prepared to move the boxes into the storage unit after they’d sat in her bedroom corner for 17 days (yes, she counted), he was on the other side of the door, stopping her in her tracks. 
He looked fatigued, which could be credited to being a high-profile professional athlete, or as he put it, “Sleepless nights without you.” 
At that moment, he appeared so small. Not physically, per se, but emotionally. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, were dull and glossy with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. Regret?
And when he spoke, he sounded like a chile who was trying not to choke over his words as he fought back tears. 
“Jude…” she said quietly, blinking back tears. Her hand was still tight around the door knob. “I don’t know.” She wanted him, sure, but she wasn’t willing to put herself in the position through an even worse heartbreak. But, at the same time, she believed what she’d said. 
“I’ll be better for you. I can’t lose you forever. One more chance, darling…please.” She’s never heard him beg in such a way. It made her insides stir.
Her jaw shifted as her eyes darted across his face, searching for any hint of dishonesty. Nothing or the sort. His eyes spoke what his mouth didn’t and it overwhelmed her greatly. I’m sorry, darling. 
“You love me?” she questioned after some time, her thick eyebrows furrowing. She wiped away the fallen tear that sped down her cheek. 
Jude nodded quickly. “I do. More than you know and more than I’ve shown you.” 
Her eyes moved quickly—she was thinking. He continued to fiddle with the coin in his pocket. Except his movements grew quicker as the anticipation grew.
“One chance,” she said after some time. “And you earn it.” 
Jude released the breath he was unaware he held and thanked the heavens above. Slowly, she moved out of the way to allow his entrance into her apartment. He closed the door behind him and pulled the coin from his pocket. Heads. 
 He smiled small. Little cent. The odds were finally in his favor. 
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heckyeahponyscans · 7 months
Text
One of the benefits of vending at real-life toy shows is you get to chat with real-life people. I complimented a guy's shirt and found out there are marble racing leagues, I helped a guy track down some Shopkins because the ones belonging to his daughter (now a college grad) had accidentally been donated to Goodwill and she was nostalgic for them, and I learned that the vintage action figure of Allura is still one of the few toys she's had.
I also talked with a woman who asked if I had any Cabbage Patch Kids in my booth. (I did not.) She said, "I had one as a child and I always wonder . . ." She smiled, looking across the booths full of toys.
She got her Cabbage Patch doll in 1983, the year of "the craze". They were THE big toy. No modern toy that can compare to that phenomenon. Parents were getting into fistfights over these dolls, buying them from scalpers, or standing in long lines.
The woman at my booth said her aunt was the one who stood in a long line to get her a Cabbage Patch doll; she smiled as she described the doll, she obviously remembered it so well.
Then she said: "I used markers to give her makeup. I wanted to make her beautiful, but my father didn't see it that way. He saw it as me ruining the doll that it took so much effort to get. In anger, he threw it in the trash right in front of me."
She kept smiling wistfully as she was talking, without any apparent ire, even though after all these years she was at a toy show "wondering" about her doll.
As a collector, I love finding a mint condition toy. But when I was a child I cut holes in the vintage baby doll diapers (because I didn't like baby dolls but did like stuffed animals) and I gussied up Little Red Riding Hood's hair with streaks of eyeshadow that never washed out. I do not think it is possible for a child to "ruin" a toy. (Unless they make it physically unsafe to be around).
The purpose of a toy is to bring a child joy, fun, and help them grow. Sometimes that will mean dolls with cut hair, action figures dramatically buried in a grave after an imaginary battle, or, yes, Magic Marker makeup on dolls "to make them look beautiful." And if a child regrets what they did to a toy, that too helps them grow. Learning that a doll's hair, once cut, remains cut forever is such a mild and safe way to learn the importance of foresight.
For an adult looking back on childhood, it can seem idyllic. But one of the main experiences of childhood is a lack of control over your own life.
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But a child should at least have control over their toys.
Adults: if you want to guarantee that precious toy you spent so much money on stays pristine . . . buy it for yourself and put it on your own shelf. It is not a child's job to be a caretaker to an object for twenty years.
I hope that lady finds her Cabbage Patch doll.
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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months
Text
safe like a pinky promise
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is protection'
rated m | 2,744 words | cw: alcohol, steve is drunk, minor violence (mostly just the threat of violence) | tags: protective eddie munson, protective steve harrington, post breakup, getting back together, exes to lovers
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In hindsight, Steve should’ve been smarter about coming to this bar alone.
He’d only ever been there with Eddie and his friends, and while they weren’t the most popular, people knew not to mess with them or anyone with them. Without their protection, without Eddie’s protection, Steve was kind of asking for trouble.
Especially when he showed up already drunk, causing a scene at the bar in the middle of Corroded Coffin’s set.
He’d been having fun, or trying to, at his house with Robin. But when her parents called and insisted she come home, she left him with a buzz and a loneliness he couldn’t do anything else with.
He missed Eddie. He’d fucked up so bad and now he had to miss Eddie forever. Or maybe not forever. Maybe if he just showed up to support him like he used to, maybe if he bought him a drink and asked to talk, maybe if he kissed him in the bathroom and asked him to come home with him…
The bar was packed, way busier than it ever had been before. Most of the crowd was younger, but definitely older than Eddie and the band. He could see some older guys in the back corner and the regulars at the bar.
The room was spinning as he tried to get eyes on Eddie. He just needed to see Eddie.
Eddie was on stage, the poor lighting doing a shitty job of making him look like the star he was. Steve would need to talk to the owner about that soon. His boy should shine.
Well, he wasn’t really his boy anymore, or ever. That was the problem.
Steve had run. Despite Eddie always insisting that he was a runner, Steve had been the one to book it the moment Eddie wanted things to be more serious.
Even Robin told him it didn’t make sense. Steve was the commitment type, craved permanence from someone in a way that most people their age didn’t even think about.
The moment Eddie offered that to him, he left.
He regretted it every moment since.
Eddie’s voice filled the bar, the drums and guitar of his bandmates loud enough to make the walls shake. It was all Steve could focus on.
He didn’t know how people were having regular conversations right now.
“‘Scuse me!” Steve yelled to the bartender, who was pouring a beer from the tap. “Did you guys not know they were playin’ t’night?”
He could kind of register that he was slurring his words a bit, but couldn’t do anything about it. He hadn’t been drunk in a long time, he forgot the way his head buzzed when he was.
“They play every Tuesday night, son. Why?” The bartender handed the beer
Steve wasn’t usually an asshole, not anymore. If he was, it was unintentional.
But this was about to be very intentional.
“So you just expect them to sing on a dark stage?” He managed to not slur too much that time, wanted to express how serious it was that Eddie wasn’t getting the right treatment. “How’s he sposed to be a rockstar?”
The bartender crossed his arms, unamused at Steve’s questioning.
Steve didn’t care. Eddie deserved better than a half-assed attempt at a bar.
“He’s so good! And you don’t let him be.” Steve wasn’t sure if that made sense, but the bartender seemed to get it.
“Listen, kid. I dunno who served you before you got here, but you’re not gonna cause a scene, alright? Just go get some fresh air and wait for your friend.”
“He should have better lights!”
A man at the bar stood up and took a step towards Steve. “Hey, you heard Ernie. Go get some fresh air before you do somethin’ stupid.”
Steve should probably listen. Robin would tell him to listen.
The bar was suddenly very quiet, the music on stage paused and voices of people nearby so quiet Steve couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Why was he even mad?
He looked over to see Eddie on stage, looking around the room with his eyes squinting.
Right, the lights.
“He’s gonna be famous someday and it won’t be because you helped. Maybe you should buy a-” Steve felt his stomach turn. Shit. “A um.”
The man across from him mistook his stumbling over words and fists as a threat, and before Steve knew it, he was pushed against the wall by the bar.
“You listen here, kid. Don’t know why you showed up already so drunk, but you best leave before this turns into a serious problem. Ernie does these boys a favor lettin’ them play for tips at all. Start causin’ a scene, they won’t be able to come back, ya understand?”
The hand balling up his shirt was large, and the man’s face was red with anger.
Steve never backed down from a fight though.
“If nobody stands up for them, they’ll just keep playin’ for free. This place doesn’t even get people like this unless they’re playing.”
Just as Steve closed his eyes and expected a fist to the face, he was released and fell down against the wall. He looked up to see Eddie, guitar slung over his back, talking to the man who was holding him against the wall.
He couldn’t really hear what they were saying, too distracted by the way Eddie’s curls framed his face. They were always perfectly messy, falling in a way that would probably look terrible on someone else. But it was Eddie, and everything looked good on Eddie.
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice brought him back to earth and he suddenly realized the entire band was standing behind Eddie, and all eyes were on them.
“They don’t even know you’re a rockstar, Eds,” Steve whined. “I tried to tell ‘em and they thought I was gonna be a problem.”
Eddie waved the guys away, handing his guitar to Gareth before leaning down to help Steve to his feet. “C’mon. You’re drunk as shit.”
Steve couldn’t really argue with that, and arguing would maybe make Eddie take his hands off of him, so fuck that. Eddie’s hands belonged on him. 2+2 was four and Eddie’s hands should be on Steve.
“Eddie, they don’t even turn the lights on!” Steve fell against his chest, mumbling into his shoulder. “No lights!”
Steve breathed in Eddie’s scent, sweat and body wash mixed up just right to drive Steve crazy.
But Eddie didn’t do it to drive Steve crazy, not anymore. Not since-
“Did you drive here?” Eddie asked, luckily keeping his arm wrapped around Steve as he guided him out the front door.
“No. Walked.” For some reason, he felt chastised, like maybe Eddie was disappointed in him, but he didn’t know what for. Maybe drinking? But Eddie liked to let loose sometimes too. It wouldn’t be fair of him to judge Steve for finally letting go a little.
“You walked? From where?”
“My house.”
“Steve, that’s three miles away.”
“Is it?”
Eddie pulled him to the back of his van, leaning him against the back doors and taking a long look at him.
“Does Robin know you walked here?”
“She isn’t in charge of me, I don’t have to ask for fuckin’ permission-“
“Get in the van.” Eddie tugged him to the passenger door, opening it for him and waiting for Steve to get in. “Do you need help?”
“No. I can do it.”
Which was a lie, and they both knew it, but Steve was not about to admit out loud how little control he had over his own limbs.
It became clear the moment he tried to step up into the van and his foot missed making contact by a solid six inches. He would’ve fallen flat on his face if not for Eddie’s strong arms wrapping around him and lifting him into the passenger seat.
Eddie closed the door and got into the driver’s seat, not even turning the radio on as they drove. They were heading in the direction of the trailer park, not Steve’s house, and Steve tried not to feel smug about it.
“Why did you come tonight?” Eddie finally asked, his knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. “Why are you drunk? And why did I have to rescue you from getting another concussion?”
“I just miss you.”
It was simple. That’s what it all boiled down to.
Steve missed Eddie, missed being able to just show up for him when he wanted, missed playing with his hair when he was asleep because that was the only time he sat still enough for him to do it. He missed the way he kissed the freckle closest to his ear when he was trying to calm him down after a nightmare. He missed making him laugh.
“Steve, you-” Eddie sighed and turned the radio on. “You can sleep it off and I’ll bring you home in the morning.”
“I don’t wanna sleep it off. I don’t want you to ignore me.” Steve crossed his arms, protecting himself from whatever words Eddie would throw at his chest. “I want you to miss me too.”
The turn into the trailer park was silent as Steve’s words surrounded them.
When the van was in park in front of Eddie’s trailer, he turned to Steve.
“I do miss you. I miss us.” Eddie wouldn’t look at him, but Steve could tell he was trying not to cry. “But I can’t talk to you about it until you’ve slept this off, okay? Whatever you’re feeling now might be gone in the morning.”
The adrenaline wearing off was enough for Steve to feel pretty sober, but he could still see double and the van felt like it was still moving under him, so he knew he was too drunk to have the conversation now.
“But in the mornin’?” Steve’s head felt heavy.
He was reaching his least favorite part of being drunk, the exhaustion phase, where every movement felt like it was in slow motion but the world around him was speeding by and his body felt numb. He closed his eyes as he waited for Eddie’s response.
His eyes shot open when he felt Eddie’s finger brush against his pinky.
“In the morning, we’ll talk. Pinky promise,” his pinky wrapped around Steve’s, squeezed, and didn’t let go.
Steve looked down at their joined pinkies, thought about how something so small made him feel so safe, and nodded once.
Eddie helped him inside, one arm around his waist and humming a song Steve vaguely recognized as they walked down the hall to Eddie's room.
“Couch?” Steve asked.
“Don’t want Wayne to wake you up when he gets home.”
Steve was helped out of his shoes and jeans and tucked in on his side of the bed.
He curled up under the blanket, breathing in the scent of Eddie’s shampoo on the pillow.
He drifted off to the warmth coming from Eddie’s side of the bed and the sound of Eddie humming that familiar song.
******
“...need ya to be careful, Ed. He really did a number on ya last time.”
Steve blinked his eyes open as he processed Wayne’s voice on the other side of the door, a voice he hadn’t heard in months. A voice that used to be warm and comforting for Steve from a person who placed his trust in Steve to not hurt his nephew.
“I think I did a number on him, too.”
Steve’s head was pounding, but not in the way of his usual migraines. He hadn’t been hungover in a long time, but he was quickly reminded of why he hadn’t bothered to drink in so long.
“I’m headin’ to bed. Be good to each other.”
Steve heard Wayne’s bedroom door close and Eddie’s door open. He didn’t pretend to be asleep, even though it would have given him at least another few minutes of soaking in this feeling of being Eddie’s before things turned sour. He looked at Eddie, who stood at the edge of his bed, his fingers curling around a loose thread of his blanket.
He was nervous.
He hadn’t been nervous when Steve broke his heart, he’d just been angry.
He hadn’t been nervous when they first kissed, he’d just been ready.
But he was nervous now and Steve knew that meant he needed to lead.
“Hey.” Steve’s voice was rough, more than just the usual morning rasp from disuse. “Can we talk in bed?”
They were known to have nightly talks facing each other in bed, sometimes still sweaty and breathless from sending each other over the edge, the honesty easier when the outside world felt far away.
Eddie must have recognized Steve’s intentions as he got under the blanket, facing him in bed with a nervous smile on his face.
“Hey,” Steve said again, barely more than a whisper.
“Hi.”
“Sorry about last night.” Eddie shrugged, but Steve pushed on. “I shouldn’t have gone to the bar at all. But I definitely shouldn’t have caused problems when I got there. I’m sorry I made a scene.”
“It’s alright, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand was inching closer to Steve’s between them. “Why were you drunk?”
“Robin and I were hanging out and she kept trying to bring up how I haven’t tried going out at all since-” Steve breathed out. “Since I ruined everything with you. And she said if I wasn’t gonna make it right with you, I should at least try to find someone who might make me happy. And I didn’t know who would! It was you for so long and you’re the only person who could make me that happy. So when she left I went from drinking a couple beers to drinking a few shots of the whiskey my dad didn’t take with him. And then I just…missed you.”
Eddie’s hand finally found Steve’s, his fingers curling against the back of his hand.
“I always miss you, but it was worse when I was alone and drinking. I was drunk enough to think walking to the bar was a good idea, which it clearly wasn’t-”
“I dunno about that. You’re in my bed again and that’s not all bad,” Eddie interrupted, a small smile threatening to break out into a much bigger one. “We aren’t doing anything else, but can I kiss you, Stevie?”
“Please,” Steve breathed out.
It had been four months, two weeks, and one day since the last time Eddie kissed Steve.
But this kiss felt like no time had passed at all, like they’d pick up exactly where they left off before Steve ruined it.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Eddie said against his lips, opening his eyes to see what was going on. “What’s goin’ on?”
“I’m just sorry that I let myself ruin what we had.”
“Sweetheart, listen to me.” Eddie cupped his face in his hands, forcing eye contact. “You did screw up. I can’t lie and say you didn’t. You had every chance to talk me through what was going on in your head and work it out in any other way, but you didn’t. That hurt me, but it also hurt you. And I should’ve tried to talk after. I shut you out and didn’t leave much room for you to make it right. That part is on me.”
“It wasn’t up to you to-”
“No, it was up to us and we’re young and stupid and have no idea what we’re doing so of course we’re gonna fuck up. We can love each other and still be stupid sometimes. But maybe next time we won’t forget that we love each other, huh?” Eddie kissed the tip of Steve’s nose. “Do you still have those thoughts?”
“Which ones?”
“The ones telling you that you can’t have someone who makes you feel safe.”
Steve looked at the only person on earth besides Robin who ever made him feel truly loved and protected.
He thought about how his last words to Eddie before last night had been spewed in anger, but were born of pain and mistrust in his own ability to be loved. He thought about how Robin told him the only way to be loved was to just let it happen, even when it was scary.
“I do still have them, yeah.” Steve leaned in to give him a kiss on the lips, soft and slow. “But you’ll protect me, right?”
“Every day, sweetheart.”
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beatrixstonehill2 · 6 months
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"Hey, I'm going out for a pack of smokes, need anything?" Michelle asked her younger brother, Sean.
"Sure, I'm almost out. Do you need any money?"
She smacked her giant, octuplet-filled belly. "What? As if.... I'm just gonna find a few guys to fuck for cash, should be no problem with my belly this big."
"Of course.... why didn't I think of that?"
"You're so naive, little bro...." Michelle giggled, giving her belly another playful smack.
"You know, when mom and dad asked if you could live with me, since I had an apartment and you were couch surfing, I didn't quite imagine what that meant."
"I hope you aren't regretting our little arrangement. All the free sex you could ever want with your dreamy older sister?"
"No, definitely not! You know how much I've always fantasized about you..... I just had no clue you were, well...."
"A forever-pregnant whore?"
"Not the words I'd use, but yeah. When did you start prostituting? I thought you went away to college. I didn't want to ask the last few months because I thought it might be rude."
"Awwww, well yeah, I went to college to pursue a Master's in Engineering. All was going well, until my horny-as-fuck sorority sisters convinced me to start partying, take every drug under the sun, and abuse fertility drugs and IQ-lowering drugs to be 'more fun', which I am now, to be fair. Always carrying at least sextuplets, and I'm down to a 62 IQ, from around 170...."
"Holy shit, no wonder you're so different and, well, no offense but all you think about is getting high and having sex."
"See? More fun. Long story short I dropped out because schoolwork was getting in the way of drugs and fucking, and it turns out, fucking is a great way to score more drugs! Win-win. Now is this little interrogation over so I can go out in my little nighttime stroll outfit and get my brains fucked out for some cigarette money." She gave her brother a kiss, deep on the lips, giggled as she wiped as a line of their saliva, then merrily walked from their apartment, bobbing her hips, tits bouncing.
Sean stood there, knowing she'd be back in an hour, and they'd probably chainsmoke and fuck. But he instead got on his jacket and shoes, and took a big wad of money out of his wallet, waiting for her to get to her usual spot along the park near their apartment, before heading out. Since she was a proud little whore, he might as well pay her for sex, the thought of paying his older sister to fuck her in the middle of the park at night made his cock instantly hard. She was such a trainwreck, but he and the rest of their family was far happier to see her become a massively pregnant drug-addicted slut than an engineer. It suited Michelle so much better to be so round and dumb.
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