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httpsryu · 1 month

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the cc; campus crush

pairing: kim minjeong x fem! reader

summary: kim minjeong feels her heart rush at the sight of the cold-hearted rich girl

category: enemies-to-lovers(in minjeong's head)

genre: very very slight angst, fluff at the end

warnings: y/n is kind of mean (ITS IN HER BLOOD)

Hong Y/N, the youngest daughter of one of the richest conglomerate family, a real life nepo baby whose life has been granted since the day of her birth.

Much like her old sister; Hong Haein, Y/N is known for her cold-stoned face and cold-hearted soul. No one dares to even step in front of the pretty female.

Kim Minjeong on the other hand, oh how she wishes she was able to run into the raven-haired student that roams the campus.

"Isn't it crazy how I only saw her walk by once and I never saw her ever again?" Minjeong rants to her best friends while reading a news article about Y/N and the recent collaboration with YSL.

Jimin looks up from the medicine book, pushing her glasses up. "Well, you two may have different schedules."

"Or, she's only here once in a while?" Aeri assumes. "Like look at her family, college is probably like a hobby to her."

How could college be a hobby when the love of her life is sitting right here in the library.

"Her shoe game always kill." Yizhou scrolls through Y/N's Instagram and looking at the high heels in each post with envy. "You better get on that before some other man does."

Aeri laughs at Yizhou's words and for her friend to have so much hope in the latter. "That's if you ever see her again gracing these college floors."

Minjeong could only grumble under her breath, throwing a rolled up straw wrapper at Aeri. "At least have faith in me, yeah?"

"I have faith in you." Jimin says, raising her hand in support of her friend which earns a smile from the puppy-like female.

Minjeong stretches her arms, letting out a noise in content of how the stretch felt before throwing all her books and notebooks in her bag.

"Going home already?" Yizhou pouts, not wanting the other to leave. "But who will I bother now?"

The short haired rolls her eyes at her friend before pointing at the Japanese and getting out of the chair she's been in for 4 hours. "You can bother her, she's not even doing anything besides watching that dumb rom-com."

"Will we see you in tomorrow's morning lecture or you're skipping again?" Jimin asks, eyes still focusing on the materials written down in the medicine book. "Just wondering if I'll need to bring four or three cups of coffee."

Minjeong contemplates for a second. "I'll show up."

"Okay! See you tomorrow."

For some strange reason, Minjeong will score high on exams yet her overall class grade drops because of lame professors counting attendance, the short-haired has no choice but to start showing up again.

With a hum in response, Minjeong slings her bag around her shoulders as she turns towards the door of the library. She looks down on her phone, checking for any important emails from any professors.

"OW!" A voice gets the short-haired's attention off her phone. "Could you at least watch where you're going?"

OH MY GOD?

Hong Y/N, the girl of Minjeong's dreams.

You pat off your clothes, afraid of dust flying onto your cropped blazer that you JUST got yesterday while shopping with your sister and brother-in-law.

The short-haired is caught in a trance at how beautiful your voice sounds. With a pretty face of yours and a music-like tone of a voice, she doesn't mind dealing with that cold-heart of yours.

"You're not going to apologize or anything?" You ask, glaring at the female in front of you.

Right.

"My bad, I got distracted." Minjeong nervously giggles, not that she's afraid of you but because you're standing in front of her. "I'm sorry for not watching my direction. If you want, I can pay for your clothes if anything is wrong with them."

If Yizhou was here, she would laugh in Minjeong's face at how much of a simp she already was for a girl who BARELY pays attention to anyone.

You look at the puppy-like female, no expression on your face. "No, you don't have to do that. It'll just be a waste of my time."

"Let me treat you out to coffee then!" The other spits out those words in a flash, her eyes full of determination of some sort. "It'll at least ease my mind."

You actually have no time for anything.

"It doesn't have to be today! Or tomorrow or the day after that." Minjeong exclaims, her eyes are puppy-like as she stares down at you. "Just, when you want cofffe, let me know."

And before your mouth forms a response to say, the red haired girl is already off on her heels and walking.

"I don't even know her...?" You speak to yourself, hold on your handbag tightens as you proceed to walk into the library with the same face you had on the entire time.

Being the youngest daughter of the Hong family isn't the easiest. Sure, others may argue that you got everything handed to you since the second you were born. You admit that they're correct, you were born in a family full of money.

Being born into one of the wealthiest family in South Korea already had a career already chosen for you.

But, it's not something you'd want to do for the rest of your life.

It's different for your sister and brother. While Haein is good at her job and takes charge while also being confident about it, Soocheol was adamant about extending his resort business. And you; you hated being in the business industry. Whether it'd be retail or resort, you'd be homeless instead.

"Y/N, keep your head in the game." Your father's voice brings you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to your senses. "You're going to be working alongside your sister after college so you need to make sure you're paying attention."

You let out a nod, apologizing under your breath as you pay attention back to the board where your brother-in-law is talking about the results of kicking out designer stores that aren't reaching their sales. Whatever that was.

"If we let that happen, we'll be required to pay a penalty fee if they found out due to the branding." Hyunwoo explains to your father.

You let out a bored sigh, looking across the table at your brother who's cluelessly flipping through the papers then at your older sister who is sat beside you, at ease listening to everything being said.

"Stop sighing." Haein warns you, worried that you'll get a scolding from your father at home during dinner. "Just endure it."

You pout your bottom lip out in response, picking up a pen and doodling on the papers that were handed out to you earlier before the meeting. Oh, how you wish you could be anywhere else but here.

"On the topic of counterfeit products, it may affect how the overall sales in a whole range." Hyun-woo points at the estimated percentages.

Fighting to urge to let out another sigh, you rest your chin in the palm of your hand trying to pay attention to whatever your brother-in-law babbling about now.

While trying to look interested in the contents of the screen, you can't help but to think back on what happened earlier on campus and the encounter with the puppy-resembling female.

How come you've never seen her before?

How were you even going to get coffee with her if you don't know the girl? Not saying you would but maybe; if it ever comes down to it; then it will.

"We will take a look and come up with appropriate measures." Your father said, giving a look to your brother to write that down. "Meeting done."

The way everyone in that room can see how your eyes lit up at those last two words from your father. Everyone exits the meeting room, besides your family. Rolling your eyes at what this may mean.

Another lecture on being professional as a Hong family member

Possibly a really good vacation trip out of nowhere

"Hong Y/N, just why do you think you can behave the way you do?" Your father clicks his tongue in a scolding manner, pressing the button on the remote which rolls down the blinds of the meeting room so other employees would not be able to see.

You look down at your hands, not wanting to make eye contact with the angry man.

"I understand you're the youngest but Y/N, you need to realize that you've been off the hook since birth." He continues, letting out a deep sigh after. "You need to start taking things seriously, you are not a kid anymore."

Without letting you say a word, you hear the footsteps of him leave the room with the door clicking shut behind him.

There it is again; the stupid burden falling and feeling heavy on your shoulders. Your body starts trembling and your tears can't stop falling from your dagger-like eyes.

"Y/Nnnie?" Your brother softly calls out, walking over to where you sat. "Are you crying?"

Your brother-in-law's hands you a tissue.

"That's why I told you to endure it." Haein warns you.

Soocheol pats your back. "You know how father is like. He's serious when it comes to business."

"Don't comfort her." Your sister takes Soocheol's hand off your back. "She needs to learn and grow from this."

Hyunwoo calms his wife down. "Honey, let's not stress her out."

"That's right! She's already startled by father's words from earlier." Your brother defends you.

The older female shakes her head, disapproving the two males. "Once you're all settled down, come to my office for a talk, Y/N."

Soocheol gasps, placing his hand over his mouth in a way to not frighten you (it didn't work). While your brother-in-law could only give you a 'good luck' look as he goes back to his office. Soocheol shortly leaving afterwards after getting a phone call from the chairman (your grandfather).

Clicking on the button of the remote to draw the blinds back up, you stare through the windows and across into where your older sister's office is at. She's furrowing her brows upon reading some critical conditions and you know she's unhappy with something.

With a sigh to calm down your nerves, you quietly exit the meeting room and walk across to knock on the CEO's door. Seeing her through the clear glass door, she brings her hand up which prompts you to walk in. Each step you take, nerves are taking over as you walk towards her desk.

"I'm not being tough on you because I want to." She looks up, crossing her arm. "But because you're a smart woman, Y/N. We just want to push that towards the business that's been in the family."

Business this! Business that! Why does no one ever want to hear what you want to do?

"Do you get what I'm trying to say?" Her brow is raised, looking stern yet she means no harm. "Push through for a few more years, alright?"

You want to laugh-out of absurd. Everyone always tells you that as long as you listen to father and grandfather, you should be set. After all, we were born and raised into a conglomerate family. One of the wealthiest at that.

Yet, why does it bother you when you know you're set for life?

"Are you listening, Y/N?" Haein says, waiting for your response.

"Yes."

With a hum in satisfaction, Haein leans back in her chair. "Okay, meeting done."

With a small bow, you can only walk out of your older sister's office feeling disappointed in yourself.

Minjeong sighs while taking a seat in the back of the lecture room waiting for the class to start and for her friends to get here. She can only get her materials out and prepare for class in the meantime.

While opening her tote bag, she hears the lecture room's doors open again, indicating that another person also decided to come early. Looking up, still tired and out of her mind, to see who the other person is; Minjeong suddenly sits up and instantly widens awake.

What are you doing here? You were in this class? How come the others never told her about you?

You stand up straight, bag clutched in your hands while looking effortlessly beautiful in a vintage Chanel long sleeved blazer which hugs your waist perfectly along with a white turtleneck and a matching vintage Chanel skirt. And rarely; a backpack is hugging your back.

Minjeong has to give it you; she does admit that your shoe game will always do the outfit even more attention. Valentino heels seems to be one of your favorites.

Oh; how down bad Minjeong is for this classy lady in front of her.

You and her make eye contact. You look at her, realizing that it's the same puppy-eyed girl from yesterday. With a small quiet sigh, you walk up the lecture room's stairs.

The short-haired feels her breath hitch at the sight of you walking, omg the universe is blessing her with all of these Y/N moments.

"Is anyone sitting here?" You ask, the same cold sounding voice like yesterday but oh does Minjeong love the way your voice sounds. (she can never be your hater like the others are)

The ginger shakes her head immediately. "Please sit!"

'Strange.' You talk to yourself in your own thoughts at how eager that girl sounded.

Nonetheless, you sit in the seat next to her. Taking your backpack off and placing it aside before staring at the side view of the red haired. How strange yet intriguing she is.

Minjeong can see from her peripheral vision, her ears starts heating up and she can't help but to awkwardly turn to you. Expecting you to look away, you continue staring. Same unfazed cold expression that you're known for.

"W-why are you staring at me?" She asks, unsure of what to do or say.

Getting a shrug in response from you, you sigh before turning your full attention to the front of the room.

"What time does this class end?" You look down at the watch sitting on your wrist, ready to bolt out of here before getting yet another scolding from your sister.

"9:45."

With another sigh escaping your mouth, you sit up straight while continuing to stare at the whiteboard against the wall.

Minjeong wonders how long you've been in this class for. Perhaps; it's your first day.

The door opens again, this time with two loud voices and one voice shushing them constantly. A specific ginger short-haired hides her face from them, on purpose (and to also not mess up her love life).

"Oh! Minjeong is here today!" Aeri looks up, ready to wave at the named girl before trailing her eyes over to the figure next to her and her mouth instantly hangs low.

You nod to yourself at the recent information. Her name is Minjeong? Somehow; that name matches the puppy-like student.

"Let's not bother her." Jimin pushes both Aeri and Yizhou to rows a couple behind the first before sending a look over to her best friend.

The Japanese fights the urge to look back, whispering to Yizhou. "I thought Hong Y/N dropped this class?"

"She probably had other things to attend to." Yizhou whispers back.

Clearing your throat, you turn towards the female besides you.

Minjeong fidgets with her hands before she too turns to face you.

"About that coffee-" "-Would you like to get coffee today?"

The both of you stare at each other, until she lets out a laugh which caught your attention. Suddenly, you're staring a bit harder at her, focusing on her features a bit longer than you normally would focus on other people. And you cannot help but to wonder why once again, you've never seen her before until now.

"Would you like to get coffee with me today after class?" Minjeong asks, a smile on her pretty lips as she patiently waits for your answer with nervousness rushing through her at the expression of yours.

You clear your throat again, pulling away from the eye contact as you stare back at the front while ignoring the way your cheeks suddenly feels warm. "Okay, then."

Your answer simply means yes.

To Minjeong, that answer sounded indecisive almost.

"Your treat, correct?" You ask, still ignoring the weird heating effect on your cheeks.

The puppy-like female is doing summersaults in her head, jumping up and down mentally like an overly excited puppy who's ready to tackle down their human.

"Yeah! Of course, it is!"

may 8, 2024; publishing date

i LOVED qot SO MUCH so of course i had a bit of inspo for this small short, characters from queen of tears are NOT mines (all rights go to the writers) leaning to writing another part to this (maybe?)

#kpop x reader #kpop imagines #aespa x reader #minjeong x reader #kim minjeong x reader #winter x reader

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ellemj · 7 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 10 (FINAL PART)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

*Read parts 1-9 first for the full effect!*

Summary: Everything is out in the open between you and Bucky now, but there are two rules for your new secret relationship.

Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing, possessive!Bucky (hehehe), maybe fluff (?), profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: We've finally reached the end. I think I'll miss this version of Bucky and reader but I'm pretty excited about the work that I'm planning on putting out here next. Hopefully everyone's okay with the conclusion of this, I didn't want to have anyone riding off into the sunset or anything, but I also didn't want to have a horribly sad ending, so this felt right. You guys should totally let me know in the comments what kind of things you'd like to see from me soon! I don't know if I'll take specific requests anytime soon, but I'd love to at least find out what might get you all excited. Thanks for the umpteenth time to @littlemiss-yeehaw for being the best cheerleader and warnings-writer out there. She also draws some unbelievable shots of Bucky based on scenes in these fics.

In the shower, on the hotel bed, in the chair by the window, hell, even on the floor when the two of you rolled off of the bed in the heat of the moment. You’d successfully christened every surface of your hotel room before the clock ever struck midnight. You hadn’t meant to go at it like horny teenagers who found themselves home alone for the first time, but that’s what happened. It’s like you were both thinking about how this may not continue once you get back to the compound tomorrow morning, so you fit as much as you could all in one night.

Now, you’re laying side by side in bed. Your most recent tryst involved you on your hands and knees with Bucky doing all of the right things behind you, and it thoroughly winded you both. You listen as your collective breaths fill the air, the two of you each coming down from your post-orgasmic highs.

“Do you think Dr. Raynor will figure this out?” You ask softly, raising a hand and wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. Bucky laughs and turns his head to look at you. He still can’t get past how pretty you look after doing such dirty, animalistic things with him. Even without the super soldier serum decreasing his refractory period to mere minutes, he thinks he’d be recovered and ready for round five just from looking at you like this.

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

“It’s on my mind, yeah.” You admit. You’re probably more worried about it than you should be, but deep down, Bucky’s worried too.

“So, how do you want to handle it?” Bucky asks, fully rolling onto his side to face you.

“Maybe we just wait and see what she has to say after observing tonight’s mission and then go from there. I don’t want to say anything first and give her anything to use against us.” He’s listening to your words, honestly, he is. He doesn’t think he could ever miss a word you say. But he can’t stop himself from reaching over and running his fingertips along your flushed cheek. You turn to look at him and he lets his fingers ghost over your lips and down the column of your throat until he reaches the notch between your collarbones. His eyes linger there for a moment. Something’s missing.

“You never gave me my dog tags back.” He whispers. You’re not wearing them, and neither is he. So, where are they?

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure when to give them back.”

“Bullshit, you wanted to keep them.” Bucky teases. You push his hand away from your neck at the accusation, but can’t stop the smile that’s creeping over your features. Fuck, he’s so into you. He closes the distance between the two of you and places his body carefully over yours under the covers, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Even just kissing you sets off fireworks inside of him.

“They’re sitting on my nightstand, back in the compound.” You tell him, hoping it doesn’t make you sound too obsessed. You had planned to give them back all week, but avoiding him made that a little difficult, so instead you left them sitting beside your bed. It was sort of comforting to see his name every night before you fell asleep, and every morning when you woke up.

“Keep them.” He insists, pressing another kiss to your soft, soft lips. You get lost in the moment, focusing on the feeling of his tongue working against yours, his scent enveloping you in the most consuming way, and his weight keeping you pinned to the mattress. You could stay like this forever.

This, of course, is when Bucky’s phone would ring. He groans in annoyance as he breaks the kiss and touches his forehead to yours, looking down into your eyes.

“Tell me not to answer it.” He pleads. You purse your lips, knowing it’s probably someone from the team calling with some kind of update or new order. Bucky groans again before rolling off of you and snatching his phone off of the bedside table. He answers it and puts it on speaker, confirming that it’s someone from the team.

“Hey, sorry to call so late. The threat has been neutralized so you guys can head back now and get some sleep, we’ll debrief in the morning.” Sam sounds tired but calm, so it must have been more of a nuisance situation than a major threat. Bucky closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with his vibranium hand.

“Sounds good, we’ll be back soon.” He grumbles. You can tell he’s annoyed that you won’t be staying the night here. When he hangs up the call, he lets out a deep sigh before sitting up on the side of the bed, with the covers gathering around his waist. Without thinking, you crawl up behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him from behind. He stiffens as if he didn’t expect your touch, but that just makes you lean into him more, resting your chin on his shoulder. You feel him slowly relax and having that effect on him warms you to the center of your being

“We’re going to go home, get some rest, and debrief in the morning like this was any other mission.” You say, attempting to be reassuring.

“That’s what you want? To pretend like this was any other mission?” He questions, running his hands over where your arms are wrapped around his abs.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant we don’t have to run in and tell everyone that something might be going on between us.”

“Might?” He chuckles. You feel his abs shake beneath your hands as the melodious sound leaves his lips. You never heard him laugh much before, and you didn’t expect to like it as much as you do.

“Hey, I told you that I fell for you, and you said fuck, I’m cumming. How am I supposed to know you feel the same way?” You tease, letting go of him and laying back on the bed, drawing the covers up over your naked body. He turns a bit to face you and starts pulling the covers away from you slowly.

“Y/n…” He says your name with so much genuine feeling that it sends tingles throughout your body. Has he always said your name like that and you just never noticed before? Yes. “I made you wear my dog tags while I fucked you.” What the hell does that have to do with what you just said? He can see the confusion on your face and it brings a smile to his. He slides back under the covers next to you and begins peppering kisses across your shoulder and collarbone.

“Bucky…” Fuck, if you start saying his name again there’s no way either of you will make it back to the compound tonight. He quickly makes his way up to your face, attaching his lips to yours for a moment and then tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. It’s the nicest way anyone has ever shut you up.

“I wanted to be able to pretend like you were mine. I fell way before you did.” He whispers against your lips. Holy shit. He feels the same way. Bucky Barnes feels the same way about you as you feel about him.

You know that you have orders to head back to the compound, and neither of you are the type to disobey orders from above, but how are you supposed to pack up and head out after finding out that you have feelings for each other? You can’t stand the thought of traveling back to the compound tonight knowing that you’ll have to put on a show and pretend like nothing happened here. So, why not delay a bit and take what you want one more time?

That very rational thinking is what inspires you to slide your hand between the two of you and wrap your fist around Bucky’s already-hardening cock. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your small, soft hand wrapping tightly around him, and he wonders how he went so long without having you this way. You’ve been right across the hall from him all of this time. You’ve been going on missions with him for the last two months, giving each other shit nearly every waking moment, and completely missing what had been there the whole time. Love. He won’t say it out loud yet, he doesn’t want to scare you off, but that’s what it is. He’s sure of it. He loves you. He may not say it but he can damn well express it.

That’s how Bucky finds himself, for the fifth time tonight, guiding the tip of his cock inside of your perfect cunt. He’s done this enough times now that he knows as soon as he bottoms out inside of you, you’ll tense up and scrunch your eyes closed, trying your hardest to adjust to his size. He watches as you do just that, and then he feels your entire body relax beneath him and he knows you’re ready. He pulls one of your legs up and over his hip as he begins fucking you into the mattress. When your eyes flutter open to meet his, he has to go completely still inside you so he won’t cum right then and there. You laugh to yourself. You know what eye contact does to him and you love it.

“What’s the matter, James? Keep going.” You taunt, wiggling your hips and forcing his cock to slide into you another inch. He’s only halfway inside of you. He breathes out a slow, calming breath before leaning down and nuzzling his face into your neck, letting his cock sink into you slower than it ever has before.

“You like rushing me, don’t you?” He asks, giving your cunt gentle thrusts. A soft hum leaves your lips at the pleasure that’s beginning to build in your lower stomach. You’re so focused on the feeling that you don’t even acknowledge his question. “Don’t rush me tonight.” He buries himself to the hilt before stilling once more, drawing a whine from your lips. “We’re making love, not fucking, sweetheart.”

---

A few hours later that same morning, a very uneventful debrief took place in the conference room at the compound. You and Bucky turned in your mission reports, leaving out the details of what happened in the hotel room, and then you were dismissed to have a few hours of freedom before having to meet with Dr. Raynor.

Everyone probably assumed that the two of you went off to your respective rooms upstairs, but it took little convincing to get Bucky to sneak over into yours. When he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the first thing he noticed was his dog tags, right where you said they were.

You kick your shoes off by the door and walk over to sit on one of the small gray chairs that you have off to the side of the room, feeling surprisingly nervous that Bucky Barnes is seeing your room for the first time. Nervous. After everything the two of you have done this week? You’re ridiculous. You watch him as he crosses the room and scoops the dog tags off of your nightstand. He stares at them in his palm for a moment, and for a second you worry that he might pocket them. However, when he turns to you with a soft smile and a mischievous glint in his eye, your fears are assuaged.

“Do you have any rules? For this thing that we’ve got going on?” Bucky asks, taking the free chair across from you and setting the dog tags flat on the coffee table that separates the two of you. You tilt your head to the side, studying him closely. You see what he’s doing. The first night, while under the influence of that chemical, you gave him one rule: no kissing. He returned with his own rule: wear his dog tags while he fucks you.

“I have one. We keep this a secret, just between us, for as long as we can.” You respond, letting your eyes trail over his physique. He’s sitting in your chair the same way he sat in the chair in the hotel room last night. The man knows how to demand attention without saying a damn word. You watch as his licks his bottom lip and then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Fine. It’s a secret.” He agrees, his gaze briefly lingering on your neck. “But I have one rule too.” He reaches out with his flesh hand and begins sliding the dog tags across the table toward you. “You’ll never take these off again.”

BONUS CHAPTER

TAG LIST:

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #mcu #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut

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inthewychelm · 2 years

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i am screaming bc of this wip, god why did i choose to become an artist

#have only been workinh on this for one day #tbh most of it has been done this morning #but constantly staring at a screen for three hours at a time all day is Bad #my eyes are dizzy #my back is killing me #my neck feels like its stuck #not enjoying this sudden burst of obsessive inspiration #but hey atleast its lookinh great so far #i'll probably post the final tomorrow if i finish it

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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months

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"Stevie, I am begging you, please don't tell Wayne."

Eddie was bleeding.

He was on the floor and he was bleeding.

Steve was standing in the doorway, shocked into silence, watching Eddie try to put pressure on a wound that should have mostly scarred over by now.

His last checkup had been good, they'd even said the stitches could come out on his next visit, and he could officially start physical therapy.

So why was he fucking bleeding?

"Dammit. Can you grab a wrap from my room?" Eddie asked him, tone entirely too calm.

"Shouldn't I take you to the hospital?" Steve managed to ask.

Eddie's head turned to him, eyes widening as he seemed to realized what was happening.

"No, I- this is kinda normal? It's happened a couple times," he tried to smile, shrug it off.

"A couple of times?! Eds, this isn't normal. They gotta stitch you up better or something, c'mon I can take you," Steve leaned in and tugged on the arm he was using to hold himself up, ready to take his weight and help him out the door.

"No!" Eddie sighed. "We can't."

"I can call Wayne, then, and he can come get you-"

"Stevie, I am begging you, please don't tell Wayne."

Steve froze.

How long had Eddie been hiding how bad this was?

"You haven't even told Wayne? Eds, you should be mostly healed. You were mostly healed at your last visit! What's happening?" Steve was doing his best to stay calm, but calm went out the window when he thought about Eddie being taken from them long after the threat was gone.

"I ripped a stitch a few days ago, so I've just tried to be careful, but sometimes I move wrong. It'll stop bleeding in a minute. It looks worse than it is," his eyes were pleading for Steve to just drop it, let him handle it on his own.

But Steve was not about to let something go wrong, not when it came to Eddie.

"I'm taking you to the hospital. I'm calling Wayne. You can hate me if you want, but I'd rather that than have to tell Dustin that you bled out on your fuckin' bathroom floor." Steve put his hand over Eddie's on his side, applying more pressure. "Can't believe you ripped your stitches and didn't tell anyone."

"I was handling it!"

"Poorly. Handling it poorly."

Eddie huffed, but surprisingly didn't argue further.

He actually stayed quiet for most of the ride to the ER, even kept his gaze lowered when Wayne walked into the room he was being stitched back up in.

He remained silent on the ride home, preferring to ride with Steve while Wayne followed behind in his truck.

He didn't wait for either of them before making his way to his bedroom.

"Thanks for callin'," Wayne said to Steve as he watched Eddie close the front door behind him. "You can head out, I'll stay with him until the kids come by tomorrow."

"If it's alright, I think I'd like to stay," Steve hesitantly replied. "I'll take the couch. Just don't wanna be too far."

Wayne looked him up and down, much like he'd done the first night Steve refused to leave Eddie's side in the hospital.

Whatever he found, he seemed to accept, smiling at Steve.

"Might as well stay in his bed. Gotta keep a close eye on that one," Wayne winked and walked inside without an answer from Steve.

A close eye was really all Steve had intended, but of course, when they woke up tangled together the next morning, his intentions started to shift.

They shifted more when Eddie, half-asleep and on some minor pain meds, pressed a soft kiss to Steve's chest before falling back asleep.

——————————————————————

I could have done anything with this line and I chose dramatics. Happy Tuesday.

ATTENTION: I reached 5! This is 1/5 and the rest will probably be posted throughout today.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #wayne munson

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hunnystufff · 4 months

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read from the beginning

< Pages 109-118 - 119-127 - Pages ?? >

First of all: Pre-order for Morning Starship VOL 1 is ending tomorrow! So if any of you want to grab a copy, you should do it now!

I do plan on opening a pre-order again probably in December? Or January 25!

And secondly: Guess who forgot to post pages again? Right, I did.

BUT! Here they are! And you guys are now on the same page-count as everyone over on Insta, but since I tend to upload more pages at a time over here, you might soon be the ones with a little head start!

I also started Chapter 9 on Patre0n, after ages it seems, and I also FINALLY finished the whole story-board of the Comic! Only around 65 more pages to draw :')

Also little self-Ad and how to support me and my art if you want to!:

I opened Pre-Orders for the second batch of "Morning Starship VOL 1" You'll be able to order it until tomorrow!

I also opened Pre-Orders for a Comic that Includes my Patreon-only Comic "Nachtklang" and my Halloween Comic "Too cute to kill!"

I also have a Patre0n where you can support me! (This includes the NSFW-Chapter of Morning Starship, Nachtklang (a 46 page long Harringrove Comic and a new Halloween Comic that is 23 Pages long!)

I aaaalso accept Commissions from time to time, so just ask me if you are interested and I'll give you all the information!

Uh yeah- enough of advertising myself :') I hope you all enjoy the new pages! ❤

#harringrove #steve x billy #harringrove fanart #billy hargrove #steve harrington #comic #morning starship #billy x steve #just them being idiots #and Billy can't accept love because “what is this??”#Steve will show him!

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annwrites · 2 months

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exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt 1 | pt3 | pt 4

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.

— tags: conversing, getting to know one another

— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification

— word count: 6.2k

— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.

Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!

The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.

Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?

You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.

You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.

People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.

Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.

When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.

You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."

He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."

You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.

Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."

In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."

"Did you eat already?"

You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."

He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.

"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"

Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."

He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.

You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."

You look at him. "Ok..."

The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"

You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.

"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."

He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"

You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."

Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.

You shrug. "It's fine."

He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.

"Do you know anything about her?"

You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."

Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.

He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.

Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.

"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.

You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.

Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.

You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.

"Turn around."

Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.

Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.

You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.

When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.

You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."

You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.

"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.

"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."

"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.

Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."

You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."

"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."

You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.

"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.

Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.

"Just what?" Lexi prods.

"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."

Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.

Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."

Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.

"What do you mean by abusive?"

She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."

Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.

He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.

You put your things away, then look to Nate.

In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.

"You ready?"

You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.

Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.

Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.

You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.

Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.

It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.

But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.

He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.

And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.

He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.

“Do you sleep with this?”

Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”

He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.

In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.

He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.

Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.

And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.

It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.

You need him.

You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.

He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.

He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”

You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”

He nods.

He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.

He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.

He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.

You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.

He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.

He closes the doors in front of him.

What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.

He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.

He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.

Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.

He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.

He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.

And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.

Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.

You walk over, sitting in it.

He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.

“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Your brows furrow. “Do what?”

“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”

You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”

He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.

You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?

And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.

You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.

He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.

He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.

“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”

You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.

If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.

“What if it wasn’t?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”

You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.

“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.

“You won’t.”

You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?

You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”

He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”

“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”

He grows silent.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”

He doesn’t elaborate further than that.

“So…what’s your favorite color?”

He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”

Somehow it seems fitting for him.

He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”

“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”

He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”

You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”

He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”

“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”

He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”

Your brows furrow. “Who?”

“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”

“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.

He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”

Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.

“How come we were never friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”

You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”

“You know what they say: opposites attract.”

You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.

He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”

To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.

“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”

“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.

“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.

“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”

Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.

So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.

“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.

"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”

Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.

And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.

“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.

“Psychotic?”

You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”

He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.

“Have you ever dated before?”

You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”

He looks over at you. “Never?”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”

His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.

It surprises him.

“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.

You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”

He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.

No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.

He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?

God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.

But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.

“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”

You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”

He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”

You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.

You clear your throat. “My turn.”

He lays back again.

“Can I ask about your dad?”

He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”

“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.

Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.

He stands and you fill with guilt.

You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.

“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”

He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.

Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.

Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.

He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”

You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”

He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.

“Like what?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”

You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”

“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.

You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.

“Okay.”

He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.

You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”

He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.

“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”

You gently take the dress from him.

He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”

Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.

While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.

He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.

When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.

You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.

You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.

He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”

You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.

He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.

You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.

He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.

He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?

He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.

You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.

Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.

He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.

“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”

“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.

He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.

Today will be one step closer to getting that future.

He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.

He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.

Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x reader

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eufezco · 2 years

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DADS — Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/N — Just some headcanons of them as dads. I'm going through a writer's block and this is the only thing I've been able to finish 🥹 I'll try to post something better tomorrow english isn't my first language

BILLY HARGROVE

Billy would go so soft for a baby girl. He would learn how to tie her hair into ponytails, braids, buns and actually be good at it. She would have his dark blonde hair with some curls too, her eyes intensively blue like his dad and a beautiful smile like his. The rest of her little face would be just like yours. Your nose, your lips, your cheeks. It was the perfect combination of you two. Billy would drive her to kindergarten and school every day, sending deathly glances to any boy who gets suspiciously close to her.

Really attentive during your pregnancy and always tries to hide how soft he gets when he sees you carrying his child. Billy also gives the best back rubs ever, his hands are big and strong, his fingers skilled as nobody's. He's always up to help you relieve some stress, you sitting in between his legs and sighing at how his hans worked on your back.

Billy's dad was an asshole and he needed to ask someone for help so he would end up going to Max's mother, the woman really glad that he comes to her before making the same mistakes as his dad. She'd teach him how to cook some basic dishes, what you could and couldn't eat, what he needed to bring to the hospital by the time you gave birth, and how to make you feel better like holding your belly from behind, helping you to shower, foot massages...

Hate to say this but he hates when the baby cries at night and would probably let you go to take care of her every single time. He would make it up for you in the morning tho, letting you sleep more time and him taking care of the baby.

Billy would never admit it but he secretly loves when Max interacts with the baby. He would act all stubborn when Max and you play with the baby, you smiling when Max softly puts her headphones on the baby's ears and play some soft music. The baby humming and trying to grab Max's walkman. Billy would watch the scene from the distance with butterflies in his stomach.

Billy would love wrapping the baby with his leather jacket like a burrito. The baby snuggling and enjoying his dad's cologne and Billy just rocking her between his arms.

He would quit smoking or at least he'd never do it around the baby. He stopped when you got pregnant, and it was pretty hard for him at first. Billy would go on night walks alone just so he could smoke but when you started to feel pain, puking, and basically needing him by your side, Billy forgot about smoking.

His favorite part of parenthood is admiring how pretty his baby girl is. She'd have these deep blue eyes just like him but she'd have the same features as you, making Billy love her even more if possible. Sometimes he would just lay on the bed with her, bumping her nose, squeezing her cheeks, or tickling her belly. The baby trying to suck on his dad's fingers every time they got close to her face, trying to grab them with her tiny little hands, and Billy just tickling her palm, making her giggle.

EDDIE MUNSON

Oh, he would rock with a little girl with the same deep brown eyes as him and with his messy curly hair too. You adoring how your daughter looks just like his dad and thinking of how she would probably inherit Eddie's personality and hobbies too (not the drug dealing, of course) like playing guitar and playing D&D.

Eddie would buy her every metal band t-shirt he could find, even if she was still a baby and won't understand nor enjoy that type of music. If there wasn't her size, he'd just use one of his on her. Eddie's shirt being bigger than the toddler and making her look like a ghost walking around the house.

Of course, Eddie stopped smoking before the baby was born, when he heard you coughing one time. Also stopped drug dealing a long time ago. He probably kept doing it after you two moved in together so he could maintain you two and not only live with your salary. But he'd find a proper job and he'd love it. He’d work at a music store, surrounded by tapes and vinyls of his favorite artists and recommending customers the best guitar for them. Nevertheless, his favorite part of the work was getting home to his baby girl waiting for him and clumsily walking to him just for Eddie to pick her up in his arms and devour her with kisses.

He's a fun dad, he's always up to play or spend time with his daughter even if he is busy doing something else, like practicing with Corroded Coffin. Eddie would stop the rehearsal immediately and the boys wouldn't care less because they also loved spending time with the little girl. But your daughter only likes one of Eddie's friends, and that is Dustin. He is always super thorough with her, tickling her belly when she was a baby and making the little her softly kick her feet and move her small arms full of joy. Dustin would also give to her all of his toys from when he was younger, her loving every action figure and every dinosaur. He's your trusted babysitter when Eddie wants to take you on a date.

Eddie would buy her her own guitar. When she was a toddler, he got a toy guitar for her so she could familiarise with the instrument, the baby just pinching the strings without any sense. When she started growing up, Eddie go t her a real one and he'd teach her some basics so she could decide if she liked it. Also, he'd sit your daughter on his lips and play piano, the two-year-old girl hypnotized by the melody her dad was playing, even though her favorite part was when Eddie let her smack the keys with her tiny hands.

Sometimes his sleep was so deep he wouldn't hear her crying at night and he'd feel guilty in the morning for you having to wake up, you assuring him by kissing his cheeks that you didn't mind. But other times Eddie would wake up even before she could start crying, it was like a sixth sense.

The baby loves playing with Eddie's long hair, sometimes pulling it hard enough to make his dad whine. Her curls would be crazy, he learned how to control them in two ponytails so they wouldn't get on her face. When she was a baby and couldn't complain about her hair, Eddie loved trying different hairstyles on her, using water to create a perfect mohican on her that got your mouth open once you got home from work "She's a rockstar." Eddie would allege.

JONATHAN BYERS

I see Jonathan with a baby boy. He's got some experience being a father figure to Will so he knows how to handle a little boy. If it's a girl, he'd have heart eyes all the time. I mean, he had El but she was already a teenager when she moved with them to California, so a little girl would be a dream for him.

He panics all the time during your pregnancy, thinking he's gonna hurt you or that he's gonna mess it up at any time. The truth is that he's super careful with you and it was practically impossible for him to hurt you, even unintentionally. Jonathan would insist on sleeping in the couch, alleging that it is for you to have more space but he's just scared of hurting your belly or you not sleeping well because of him. You'd wake up in the middle of the night and go to the living room, shaking Jonathan carefully and telling him that you couldn't sleep without him.

Jonathan relies on Joyce a lot, he'd even take notes of every advice his mom gives him, and he's got so many questions because he wants not only to be the best father but the best partner for you too. His dad was an asshole so he knew specially what he didn't have to do and what he would've liked his own dad to do, so he just needed to know what he could do for you.

You'd basically moved in with the Byers house during your pregnancy, all of them being super supportive and helping you both through your pregnancy. El and Will being the best entertainment when Jonathan was working, Hopper cooking the most delicious food you've ever tried and going to the grocery store when you were having cravings, and Joyce buying a bigger bed to Jonathan's room so you could sleep together.

The baby would be Jonathan's new favorite thing to photograph. He didn't like polaroid cameras until you got pregnant. Taking pics of you sleeping, of your and his hand on your belly... He would always have a camera around to photograph his child: playing in the park, on the first kindergarten/school day, when you dressed him up as a pumpkin during the first Halloween, and with his tiny and round face stained with cake on his birthday... Jonathan would be always taking pictures of you and the baby, keeping the polaroids in his wallet, in the glove compartment of his car, and even stuck on the wall of his place of work.

He's the one waking up in the middle of the night when the baby cries. Whispering to you to go back to sleep and kissing your forehead. Stumbling on his feet, trying to get to the baby's room as fast as he could, not even thinking of letting you handle the situation. Once the baby stopped crying, he would take him to your bed, lying him in between you two and Jonathan with one of his hands always having some type of contact with the baby to know that he's fine.

His favorite part is putting the baby to sleep. He's a pretty calm guy so it's quite easy for him to transmit that calmness to his son, the baby humming and squirming in his dad's arms at how comfortable he was and probably would start crying the moment Jonathan puts him down on his crib. He'd also help you to sleep later, having your head resting on his lap and playing with your hair until you fall asleep.

He's always telling you that you are the best mom or that you are doing so good with the kid, kissing your cheeks and giving you the best heartwarming compliments, basically making you feel so loved. Joyce told him that some new mothers sometimes felt like they weren't doing good enough for their children, so he's always making sure that you know how well you are doing and how happy and healthy your baby looks thanks to you.

STEVE HARRINGTON

Best dad ever. He would only have eyes for you and your daughter, Steve literally lives for both of you. Probably he wouldn't wait until your girl is one-year-old to start talking about having another child.

The happiest man alive when he you told him that you were pregnant. He'd kiss and talk to your belly all the time, resting his hand there, applying lotion to your stretch marks, and always making sure that you're feeling comfortable. It was like your daughter could feel when Steve was around because she'd start kicking you like crazy. "We can't wait to see you, baby.","I love you too baby, but you need to let mommy sleep."

Your baby was so loved even before she was born. And so were you during your pregnancy. Steve was by your side every minute of it. He'd cook you the most delicious meals and the sweetest cakes to help your cravings. Steve would make sure that you were drinking enough water, he'd help you to shower, and make you feel beautiful. Hugging you tightly against him, massaging every aching part of your body, and basically not letting you get up from the couch unless you needed to use the bathroom.

Steve would fall asleep with the baby between his arms all the time. Him sitting on the rocking chair next to the baby's crib falling asleep at the same time as your daughter and forgetting to put her in the crib, you going to the room to know why Steve was taking so long just to find that cute scene. Also, him sitting on the couch after work with the little girl peacefully napping on his chest, his arms wrapped around her so she didn't fall. When she was old enough to have a proper bed, he'd lay down with her and hug her against him, tell her a story and she would be sleeping in less than ten minutes. The little girl sighing in her sleep thanks to how comfortable her dad was.

Steve is always so warm, the baby loves being between his arms. When she was a toddler, she would cry her lungs out until Steve picked her up and peppered her small face with kisses while hugging her. At nights, she would sneak into your room and lay between you and Steve, or by your side so you could hug her and Steve could hug you both.

Steve's favorite part of coming home from work is finding his daughter waiting for him to play with her, you'd tell him that he needed to rest, but there's no way he's going to sleep instead of playing with her, he wouldn't care about if he's exhausted. He'd also love when you and her would fall asleep waiting for him. He'd give each of you a kiss and get into bed too.

He loves movie nights with you and her. Steve would rent movies for her all the time. He knows her favorites and he could watch them with her for the entire day, he'd find himself after mumbling the words of the Disney songs. When she was a toddler, Steve would fall asleep during the movie and when you'd shake his shoulders softly to wake him up, he'd say that 'there's no strong plot'. You'd smile at him. 'Of course not baby, it's a movie for children.'

Steve would sit the baby on his lap and try her to say 'daddy'. He could be there for hours, smiling at his daughter when she would try to mumble something similar to what her dad was saying, waving her hands happily and letting her head fall into Steve's chest when she was tired of trying. He'd kiss the top of her head and let her rest before keep trying. "Baby, I need to feed her-" Steve shushed you, and you raised your eyebrows. "She almost got it..." Both of you looked at the baby babbling until she got to say clearly the word 'daddy'. "Yes, yes, yes! That's my girl, well done!" Steve kissed all her little face, making her giggle.

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hells-wasabii · 4 months

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Hi I was hoping if maybe you could do Velvette and Carmilla (poly or separate whichever you want to do) with a fem s/o that had a very abusive ex while she was alive like both physical and verbal abuse. She also has a hard time going out because she is terrified that she might run into them again. No pressure though hope you have a good day!😁

A/N: I'm so sorry i didn't write over the weekend, I got so busy it was ridiculous. Should be back to our regularly scheduled broadcast tomorrow! I'll be honest, this ask resonated with me, I immediately knew that I was gonna enjoy writing this one and you'll see why. Like i did last time, I'll be putting one drabble on one post and the other on a separate one with the ask included!

Character: Velvette

Type: Fic (Velvette x fem!reader who had an abusive ex, Angst, Fluff)

She was going to destroy them. And whatever was left of them when she was done, no one would dare touch, else they also wanted their lives burnt to ash.

Velvette was furious, livid. Needless to say, the influencer was on a war path.

Truly, she was glad that you weren’t here to see her like this. You didn’t need another reminder of that stain of a soul, though she wasn’t just going to lie or keep you in the dark. You knew where she was and what she was planning. You had been in tears when she told you in soft whispers that it was going to be okay, that she was going to ‘take care of it’. She was surprised that she had been able to keep her cool until she had left the flat.

Honestly, the influencer knew that she wasn’t supposed to know about the bastard yet. You had wanted to tell her on your own time and she respected that. But that didn’t mean that she hadn’t already suspected. When you would get nervous out in public, looking out into crowds like you were expecting to see a ghost. The flinching early in your relationship anytime she’d so much as graze your arm.

It figured that they were in hell too. It made sense, all things considered. Plus they were probably slippery enough to stay out of the path of any angels during exterminations

It had been such a peaceful day too. The both of your schedules had aligned, Velvette was between projects and you hadn’t had any real plans until later in the night, which said plans were with the overlord anyways.

It had been so long since the two of you had enjoyed a lazy morning together. Velvette was more than content simply enjoying each other’s company on the couch. You had been entangled with your lover, your arms loosely wrapped around her waist while you rest your chin on her shoulder, watching her scroll through her current feed.

She remembered so clearly how tense you became when she came across the picture. Some club goer that she would have completely ignored other wise, had it not been for the fact that you had started trembling. And then you flinched when the overlord had reached out to cup your cheek. She was quick to assure you that you had nothing to apologize for when you offered a dejected ‘sorry’.

And that was how Velvette found out about your only other serious relationship and the story of your death. Through needless apologies and countless tears.

Now, the influencer found herself storming through the halls of Vee Tower with one destination in mind. Vox’s office.

“Vox I need your help.” These were the first words out of her mouth when she burst in through the doors to the video star’s office

“Velvette, I thought you were taking today off?” The video star startled, quickly closing his current video feed. He seemed more than he would have usually. Whether it was because he hadn’t expected to see her or because of how angry she looked, the influencer didn’t know. And frankly, she didn’t give a shit, either. He could keep watching the radio demon like a creep later.

The video star leaned back in his seat when Velvette didn’t offer an answer. So instead he gesturing for the younger overlord to sit. She did not. Lacing his fingers together, Vox took in the sight that was Velvette. She was angry, that much was obvious, but why? She didn’t have any current projects that he could think of, so what in the literal hell could have her so vexed?

“What’s got you on a war path today my dear?” Though his smile didn’t meet his eyes. No, he knew something was very wrong.

“I need a favor.” This seemed to get his attention. In reality, Velvette rarely asked for favours, instead preferring to get shit done herself. Even rarer still, she was here, asking him in person instead of calling or texting him.

Vox turned to her fully now, a serious expression settling upon his screen. “Of course, what do you need?”

“Your reach is farther than mine,” She admitted, her voice soft, betraying the unbridled rage that dwelled beneath the surface. Reaching into her bag she pulled out a photo of demon who had summoned her ire, sliding a photo across his desk to show him. An eyebrow raise, the older sinner took the photo in his hand.

Mostly uninterested, Vox really wasn’t sure what he was looking at. The picture was ordinary, some demon taking a selfie at a club. Looked like some regular old schmuck to him. Returning his gaze back to his youngest cohort, he found her glaring at the offending photo so hard that he was surprised it didn’t burst into flames right there in his hand. Just to be safe, he put the photo back down on his desk.

“And what exactly did this poor bastard do to piss you off this bad?”

“That’s the fucker who used to beat on my girl.” Velvette all but hissed out, glarring down at the picture. Then, she spoke again, softer, her voice nearly trembling as a more grave expression took to her face. “They killed her, too.”

Vox froze, his screen flickering as his own temper spiked at the revelation. You were good for Velvette. He actually liked you, which was more than he could say about any other demon that the influencer had brought around the tower. Val liked you just as much. He was going to be pissed if he was left out of the fun, the video star noted as he shot the moth demon a quick text to get his ass to his office. Vox’s lips split into a vicious grin, his voice low, practically a growl as he forced out a: “Well, lets get to work then, shall we?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin imagine #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #the vees #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel vox

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sunnys-out · 9 months

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I've loved you for so long (1) | Lucy Bronze

A/N: Hello! I haven't written in so long but here is something that I have been working on since the WC (she's a short one I know). I didn't post it earlier because I was moving and starting a new job but everything has calmed down and I had time to edit it. Please let me know what y'all think and hopefully, I can post the 2nd part soon! If you like my writing maybe through in a suggestion and I'll try my best! :D

Content: Angst, Fluff if you squint

{Word Count: 2004}

______________________________________________________________

I've loved you for so long

Oh, I'd forgotten how it feels

Feelings come back strong

'I've Loved You For So Long - The Aces'

Lucy and I had met, informally, in 2015 in Canada, we never played against each other in that World Cup but that didn’t stop us from bumping into each other at Tim Hortons. The couple of times that we ran into each other at the World Cup caused small conversations and laughs that left me wanting more. God, even just her smile left me wanting.

I didn’t message her throughout our respective seasons right after the World Cup but sometimes I’d click on her Instagram profile and just scroll and see her thrive in Manchester City. Well I did drum up the courage to message once.

‘It’d probably be weird if I messaged her out of the blue right?... I mean it has been weeks since Canada?’ I told myself as I lay on my small apartment couch in Portland.

My thumb hovered over the send button with a slight tremble.

“Fuck it” My thumb harshly hit the screen and the quick ‘Wanted to say that you had an amazing tournament. Shame we never played against each other ♥️That goal against Canada was a banger meant to send that in Canada lol!” message was delivered.

I swear I threw my phone onto the other side of my couch and took a shower not expecting to see two notifications sent five minutes after me.

‘Lucy Bronze liked your message’

‘Lucy Bronze: ‘means a lot. Hope to see you again soon, miss world champion ⭐️⭐️⭐️’

I didn’t notice the smile growing as I looked at the notifications on the screen. I probably read it 20 times, setting the phone down on my coffee table and pacing the room debating whether I should respond or what I even should respond with.

“Lucy is funny, maybe I can joke about how it’s been long or maybe just a ‘feeling is mutual’” I said aloud to myself.

‘Why am I getting worked up about this?” My hair is now messy by how many times I redid my ponytail pacing the room for 13 minutes. I kept procrastinating and just settled with getting ready for bed.

‘I’ll just respond tomorrow,’ I said, confidently, plugging in my phone and placing it on my nightstand. That sentiment lasted about 2 minutes before I walked quickly back into my room picking up my phone, opening the message, and liking Lucy’s before responding.

Y/N: I would love to see you again! I hope it's somewhere other than Tim Hortons even though I loved that place lol 🙂

My phone immediately locked as I got into bed and turned away from my phone. I closed my eyes tightly trying to go to sleep quickly so that in the rare probability that Lucy would continue the conversation, I could deal with it tomorrow morning, maybe ask Klingenburg for advice. Though she might scold me for fraternizing with the enemy, jokingly of course. Defenders knew other defenders right? Kling would find it funny that a right winger is flirting with a right back.

My thoughts were interrupted by one vibration and then two more in succession. My body slowly turned over to see my phone lit up still and then slowly dimming. My hand, subconsciously, went over, picked up my phone, and opened the messages seeing Lucy liking my message.

Lucy: Let me buy you a cup whenever you’re in Manchester; there are some cafes you’d like here.

Lucy: I would love to show you around 🙂

I smiled at the messages and immediately replied without a second thought

Y/N: I will let you know because I do need a vacation 🥲

Y/N: And I would love to give you a tour of Portland, the coffee capital of the world. Worth it.

I stared at the messages until I saw a little heart appear on my last message. The little dots of a message incoming made me nervously tap the side of my phone.

Lucy Bronze: I’ll take that as a promise 😉

Y/N: And I expect that cup of coffee in Manchester is a promise too ☺️

Lucy would only like the message and I would promptly go to sleep after waiting 15 minutes for a message that never came. I tried my best to not think about it but the feeling that came from reading her messages and the smile that would creep onto my face…I wouldn’t forget.

Hayley Raso came into my life slowly after that. Glances turned to long stares. The lingering touches throughout practice became more than a pat on the back for a job well done. The smiles and laughs echoed off the walls of Providence Park as we walked to our cars until it was just to my car.

The weekly movie nights at my place turned into watching a show and cuddling together after practice for days on end. Another toothbrush appeared in the bathroom and suddenly my queen-sized bed wasn’t as empty.

Mornings were met with a quick kiss, a hug from behind, and sweet nothings whispered in each other's ear.

Going to practice wasn’t done alone anymore and it was nice to have someone waiting on you if you had to stay behind to see the physio.

It was easy since we were both playing for Portland at the time and the team weren’t surprised when we told them.

Little by little the Australian would appear in my Instagram photos and I in hers.

The one that “broke the internet” was Hayley’s post of her kissing me on the cheek at the end of a game when the USWNT and Australia had a friendly. The one that sealed the deal for everyone was my Christmas post of photos of the party I had at my apartment. One, a particular one at the end, Hayley was in my lap while I kissed her.

Something, however, nagged at me every time I saw a certain person's name pop up “Lucy Bronze liked your post” but I ignored it. I now know it was the feeling of the “what if” and “what could have been”.

‘Did Lucy not want this with me? Maybe that’s why she never followed up. I probably said something to scare her away. Hayley didn’t run away’ I remember thinking to myself and as if on cue two arms snake their way around my waist.

“Everything alright babe?” Hayley said into my back, I, immediately, felt my shoulders relax at the sound of Hayley’s voice.

I whispered, “I'm alright, just read some rude comments. You know how some people get”. I lied to Hayley; I was happy in our relationship and shouldn’t be wondering about the “what could have been” with someone that wasn’t her.

Hayley would then go on to say that she’s told me to never look at the comments because when have the mean ones ever done something for us? She’d led me back to the bedroom to get ready for bed as we had an early practice but not after she promised to take my mind off the “negative comments”...it worked.

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She Believes Cup March 6th, 2016,

Lucy Bronze’s POV

We hadn’t played the United States in Canada which is a shame to not be able to play the future World Champions. Once, we had heard that we would be playing them in the She Believes Cup. I was excited for multiple reasons.

The US call up was released and I would be playing against (y/n). Since the World Cup, (Y/N) was making a name for herself as a strong right winger and playmaker for Portland and the National team.

On the pitch, she seemed cold and intimidating, but I met her as the complete opposite.

I was able to just watch her tap her lip with her finger with her US cap on backward as she decided which pastry she wanted with her coffee at that Tim Hortons. She whistled quietly as she waited her turn and then adorably, fumbled through her order. Then humming to herself happily as she waited on the side with her warm croissant covered by a napkin.

I was in awe of her. I had seen her play before and was always impressed by what I’d seen but never played against her.

As I went up to order my own coffee and pastry I noticed her scrolling through her phone, laughing to herself. (y/n’s) eyes crinkle when she laughs or smiles really big. She hadn’t noticed me when I stood next to her, also waiting for my drink, there I took notice that she was at least three inches above me and that she sticks out her tongue when she is reading something.

I breathed in and said loud enough for her to hear as she read, “I won’t tell your trainer if you don’t tell mine” I shook my little bag containing the coffee cake I had just ordered. I chuckled at the little jump she gave when she noticed me.

“Shit, sorry you scared me” a nervous laugh leaving her mouth

I extended my hand, “Sorry bout that. I’m Lucy, Lucy Bronze with England”

She completed the handshake, “(y/n) (l/n) with the US…obviously” She pointed to her hat that had USA stitched on the back.

The conversation had good enough banter that we both remained at a table for about 2 hours talking about life and football. I could tell you that I fell for the way she looked at me with her gentle (y/e/c) eyes as she described the antics of her new golden retriever puppy named Chili she had adopted when she went to Portland.

I never really was intimidated or made nervous by any American player, especially on the pitch but watching her warm up with an icy cold expression during the She Believes Cup match made me question if the person I met at Tim Horton’s was the same person.

I don’t think I was nervous but I lost count of how many times I would try to get a glimpse of her as she warmed up. Every time I did I’d feel the blush on my cheeks as I remembered the short text conversation that we had shortly after the World Cup.

I regretted so much for not following up immediately; I got scared. If (y/n) asked me today why I didn’t respond, I wouldn’t have known what to say to be honest. Lack of courage was what Jill had told me as Jordan patted my back while reading the messages.

The moment that I finally gained the courage to message (y/n) on Instagram to invite her to Manchester for a visit, was the day when I saw the picture of Hayley Raso kissing her cheek at a friendly. It was the first thing I saw when I opened the app to message her.

I remember my stomach dropping like the feeling when you don’t feel the bottom of a pool.

I had it all planned in my head that she’d accept and I had a mini itinerary in my head of things she would’ve enjoyed and sightseeing spots. But the photo of her with her face buried in Hayley’s neck as she hugged her made the feeling worse.

Raso had beat me to (y/n) and she didn’t even know it. I kicked myself for not being brave. I would’ve had her in my arms sooner. I tell her all the time that I fell for her immediately and from meeting her I wanted more of her every passing day.

Just seeing her across the field filled me with the tucked away feelings I had for her. I remember thinking…What I would have given to be there again talking about the most mundane things over coffee. Hearing her try her hardest to tell a joke but failing as she laughs remembering the punch line or even unconsciously speaking with an English accent when we spoke… God, I really loved her for so long.

#woso #wwc 2023 #lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #lucy bronze x reader #barca femeni

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