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scuderiahoney · 9 days

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Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 5

Summary: one plane ride, a little sunburn, and far too many margaritas to count. 6.0k words

Warnings: alcohol, mention of previous sports injury

It’s a lazy Saturday morning. You’d showed up at the house an hour ago and planted yourself on the couch. Charles had been in the overstuffed armchair, and he’d barely batted an eye when you walked in, too engrossed in his TV show. Lando and Max had wandered downstairs eventually, and piled onto the couch with you. One by one, everyone else wakes up and comes downstairs. They have practice in a couple hours, but none of them are in a rush. Instead, they all choose to scatter around the living room. Charles turns on Planet Earth. Everyone’s engrossed by it.

“Hey, my aunt wants to know if we still want the house for spring break,” George says, looking up from his phone as a school of fish swims by on the TV screen.

Lando, whose head was previously buried under a pillow, sits up. “Obviously.”

“The house?” Oscar asks, and when everyone turns to look at him, he deflates. “Sorry, none of my business.”

George’s phone rings, and he answers and wanders off into the kitchen, chattering away. You’re perked up now, blinking around the room. There are smiles on everyone’s faces, now, at the mention of spring break. You’re all in desperate need of some time off.

Max turns to look at Oscar, arms raised above his head in a stretch. “Piastri. D’you have any plans for the break?”

“Not really?” He says, shrugging.

Max nods. “Cool. You do now.”

Max flops back over onto the couch, and so does Lando, effectively burying you once again.

Oscar turns to look at you, brows furrowed. “What did I just sign up for?”

You sit up from underneath Lando and Max, who groan loudly. “George’s aunt has a really nice beach house. We go there for spring break.”

Oscar raises his eyebrows. “Oh. You know, I didn’t mean to invite myself, and you guys-“

“Shut up,” Lando says, face half buried in the arm of the couch. “You’re going. It’s tradition.”

…..

The only thing worse than navigating an airport is doing it early in the morning with 6 hockey players in tow. You’d think they’d be good at travel with all the away games, but they’re not used to having to get themselves places. Lando almost leaves his luggage at the house, Max almost forgets his whole wallet, and you’re sure Alex would’ve been left behind completely if it wasn’t for Lily. Oscar’s the only self sufficient one, likely because he’s been living on his own for so long now. You think of him having to travel to games with his old team, wonder if he wandered around airports alone, and your chest aches. But he’s next to you, smiling brightly, suitcase in hand and clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. Lando’s ordering a beer from the bar. It’s 6am.

Max tries to usher the whole group towards the gate, like he hasn’t been the most scatterbrained person all morning. You let him feel like he’s in charge. It helps his ego. It’s not long before people get distracted- George wants a bagel, Charles wants to look at souvenirs, which is ridiculous considering you haven’t left yet, and Lily wants coffee. Max looks panicked as everyone starts to wander.

You clear your throat. “Okay. Lily, George, and I are going to that coffee shop,” you say, pointing at the one nearest your gate, “to get breakfast and coffee. Charles and Max will go in the shop. The rest of you can join whichever group, or you can wait at the gate. We’ll all be back here in 20 minutes.”

Max looks relieved, even as Charles drags him towards a stand full of license plate magnets with names on them. You head for the coffee shop, and find Oscar’s opted to join, too. Lando and Alex stay at the gate, guarding all the suitcases.

An hour later, you’re all seated on the plane, much to your and Max’s relief. George booked the flights for everyone so he could use his parents’ airline miles, and so you have no idea where you’re sitting until you actually get on the plane. You slip into your window seat, and Oscar stops at your row with a smile. He’s in the middle. George is on his other side. Up ahead, you see Lily, Alex, and Charles, and Max and Lando in front of them. You pity whoever the stranger is that will have to put up with Max and Lando in their row. Oscar helps put your carry on up above, and everyone settles in for the flight.

After takeoff, you push the window shade up. The sun is just barely starting to rise, and you’re already exhausted. Oscar leans close to peer out the window. He hums softly, pointing down below.

“You can see the house from here,” he points out, and you laugh.

He’s right. You can. The house, the ice rink, the soccer fields, they all disappear below. You wave goodbye, and Oscar laughs and does the same. Then you lean over and fall asleep, head resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind.

…..

The eight of you descend on the beach house in a flurry of activity. It’s bright and sunny out, and you all wear sunglasses as you haul the luggage into the house. George points everyone to their rooms- you’re glad to learn you have the same one for the third year in a row, up on the second floor, with a nice view of the ocean and a room to yourself. Lando and Oscar are sharing, as are Max and Charles. Lily and Alex get a room, and George gets his own room. Charles offers to take your luggage upstairs for you, and you accept happily.

By the time everyone returns downstairs, you’ve made a grocery list. Max looks at it over your shoulder and nods in approval. There’s a little store within walking distance that should have everything you need. When Max suggests you all go to help carry bags, Lando groans loudly, already complaining about a headache or a sore back or whatever ailment will get him out of it. In the end, it’s you, Max, Charles, and Oscar who head off to the grocery store.

When you get back, you unload things in the kitchen, the four of you moving around each other with ease. Oscar drops the juice and you giggle, Charles hugs the bag of cheese puffs to his chest like a little kid, and Max starts pulling ingredients to make a late lunch.

“M’hungry,” Lando calls out.

“Thought you had a headache,” you call back, smirking as he walks into the kitchen.

“Back ache,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly. “Come on, you know plane seats suck.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you hand him the bottle of painkillers you picked up at the store. He gives you an easy side hug in thanks. Lando offers to help Max make lunch, and you retreat to the back deck for the first time this trip. You breathe in deep as the sun hits your skin, as the sound of the ocean fills your ears. It feels like the whole world is in front of you, stretching on and on.

Oscar walks out behind you, doing basically the same. “Wow.”

Alex and Lily are down near the water, and when he spots the two of you, he waves you over. “Low tide!” He calls out, grinning widely. “There’s starfish!”

You turn to Oscar with a grin, and then the two of you run down the shore to meet them. The stress of the school year starts to slip off your shoulders. For now, it’s just sun and sand and nothing else.

…..

Spring break, as it always does and definitely should, tastes like pineapple and coconut rum and frozen margaritas made in the ancient blender that somehow still works. It smells like sunscreen, the reef safe kind that Oscar insists everyone uses. It feels like sand stuck between your toes, like the crash of the waves against your legs, like the heat of the sun on your skin.

“Why couldn’t you guys be, like, professional surfers?” You ask, face half pressed into the giant beach towel you’re laying on. “This is where I’m supposed to spend all my time, not in an ice box.”

Max laughs and tosses a foam football at you. “You chose the school, too, you know. And you love watching hockey.”

“Max would be shit at surfing,” Charles pipes up, and though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses you can tell they’re crinkled with amusement. “He is not very good at balance. Like Bambi.”

Max scoffs, picks up the ball he’d thrown at you, and chucks it at Charles’ head. Charles dodges it with a squeak and runs after it in the sand. Max follows, likely afraid of the retaliation that’s coming his way.

“Osc, you’re from Australia,” you say. “Have you surfed?”

Oscar’s laid out next to you, in the shaded portion of the blanket thanks to the umbrella George put up. He burns easily, apparently. You’d told him that you weren’t surprised, based solely on the pale tone of his skin, and he’d glared at you unhappily and then chased you into the waves. Now he lays there, face smashed against the blanket, same as you. It’s mid afternoon. He’s usually a bit sleepy in the afternoons, you’ve found.

He nods, prying one eye open. “Not any good, though.”

You scoff out a laugh. He grins back at you. There’s sand stuck in his eyebrow, and you’re about to reach out and brush it away when a shadow falls over you. You look up and find George standing there. Lily, Lando and Alex are following him up the beach.

“Margarita time?” George asks, grinning happily. You push yourself halfway up, propping up on your elbows, and nod your head. “It’s always margarita time, Georgie.”

Dinner that night is grilled shrimp and veggies and bread warmed up in the oven that all the boys eat too much of, promising not to tell their coaches. Someone asks Oscar to say “throw another shrimp on the Barbie,” which then devolves into bad attempts at Australian accents, which then further devolves into bad attempts at everyone’s accents. You’re left laughing so hard your stomach hurts, the sun setting, the warm ocean air washing over your arms on the back deck.

Oscar’s sitting next to you, and he wipes your tears of laughter away with a napkin and says, “You alright, love?” in what can only be a bad attempt at Lando’s accent.

You snort with laughter. The noise sends Oscar into a fit of giggles, too, and soon the two of you are bent over in your chairs, heads bumping into each others, as Lando tries to insist he doesn’t sound like that and Max assures him that he definitely does. When you finally catch your breath and sit up, they’re moving on to mocking Sebastian’s accent, because they always start making fun of their coach eventually. Lily’s watching you, though, a knowing look in her eyes.

You sit on the beach blanket next to the water after dinner, another margarita in your hand. There’s far too much salt on the rim- courtesy of Alex, who’d coated nearly the whole cup in it- which makes it taste a bit like the ocean. Oscar’s sitting next to you, a cup of his own in his hand. The sun is low in the sky, the horizon turning the lightest shade of purple as it turns to night. Oscar’s bare thigh brushes against yours, and you hold your breath.

The back door to the house slides open, and you turn to look. It’s Charles. “We are going to the store,” he calls out. “Are you coming?”

You wrinkle your nose. “None of you are driving, right?”

Charles shakes his head. “We will walk. We want snacks, and we are out of tequila.”

You nod. “I’ll stay here!”

“Me too,” Oscar adds.

“Okay, I am trusting you two,” Charles teases. “Don’t burn the house down.”

Charles calls out something unintelligible and probably not in English. Inside, you hear Max yell for him, also not in English. The door shuts. Oscar sucks in a sharp breath. There’s tequila in your bloodstream and salt on your lips and the heat of his leg next to yours. You close your eyes, the sea breeze dancing over your skin, and you can still feel his lips on your cheek after that game, weeks ago now. You sit for a while, basking in it.

A few minutes later, present day Oscar’s shoulder bumps against yours. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. His cheeks are rosy pink. You wonder if he’d put enough sunscreen on.

“This is really nice,” he says, softly.

The sand is turning cold beneath your feet. You shiver slightly. He leans into you, warm arm pressed to yours, thigh pressing tighter against your skin. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Mhm,” you agree, blinking softly at him and biting your lower lip, just to watch and see the way his eyes dart across your face. “George’s aunt is a sweetheart for letting us stay here.”

Oscar hums in agreement, but he shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead in a soft swoop. “I meant… this.”

He nudges his leg against yours. Your stomach lurches in the best kind of way. He’s leaning back on the heels of his hands and staring at you while the waves crash onto the shore. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand, tiny grains of sand rolling between his skin and yours. You feel the electricity simmer up your arm and zap down your spine.

“Oh. Yeah,” you say, nodding in agreement. “It is.”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He’s so close you swear you can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it’s just yours, pounding in your chest, going wild over the way he’s staring at you. He lifts his hand from the sand, the one farthest from you, keeps his other arm pressed to yours as he turns just slightly. When his hand comes up to cup your cheek, it feels so familiar. You remember blue paint on his thumb, brushed off on his pants, the poster leaning against the wall and his lips on your cheek. You want it again. You want more. You swear he leans in.

There’s a loud noise from inside the house, and he drops his hand into his lap. Your heart twists in your chest. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips on your skin when the back door opens. George yells something about playing flip cup. You don’t want to play flip cup- you want to stay here with Oscar and let him kiss you like you thought he was going to. But his hand is in his lap now, and he smiles sheepishly and starts to stand up, and you wonder if you imagined all of it.

…..

Two nights later, when everyone has gone to bed, you find yourself still wide awake. You’re buzzing, probably from the afternoon coffee you grabbed with Charles and Oscar at the cafe down the street. Max had said it was a bad idea. Charles is dead asleep upstairs, because caffeine has never really affected him. You’re busy thinking about two nights ago, Oscar’s hand on your face and the way he looked at you. You know it happened. You swear it happened. He’d been about to kiss you. Right? Maybe you're imagining things. Maybe it’s all in your head.

You’re sitting on the couch near the window, the glass of water Max poured you before he went to bed sitting half empty in your hand. You nearly spill it when someone clears their throat. You know without turning to look that it’s Oscar.

You stare out the window at the ocean. “Might go take a walk down by the water,” you suggest, just to see if he takes the bait.

Oscar hums. “I’d better go with. For safety, you know.”

You nod in agreement, not really seeing the need to protest. It’s a silly excuse, but you want him to come with. The two of you head for the doors, slipping in sandals along the way. The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly as you make your way down the beach. The sand is still sun warmed but cooling fast. The crash of the waves against the shore makes you sigh softly.

Oscar’s only a few steps behind you. The moon isn’t out yet, but you catch sight of a few stars in the sky. You stop at the spot where the waves meet the sand, and he walks up next to you. When you turn to look over your shoulder, all the lights in the house are off except the living room light the two of you left on. Oscar looks, too, and then steps closer. You feel like you should hold your breath, but you don’t. The air smells like salt. You wonder if the smell has seeped into Oscar’s hair and skin, or if he still smells like his shampoo and body wash. You hate that you know the scents of both.

“I love the ocean,” Oscar says, not for the first time that day.

You nod. “Me too.”

His fingers brush against yours where your hands hang at your sides. It sends a zap all the way up your arm, straight to your spine. Does he feel it too? That giddy feeling in your chest? The anxious feeling in the back of your brain? The want, deep in your gut, that makes you want to turn and press your lips to his. Does he feel it, too? You’d take a kiss on the forehead. Or another kiss on the cheek. Or just- if he would just move his hand a couple inches, just intertwine your fingers with his-

Like he’s read your mind, he does. He twists his fingers between yours loosely. You nearly choke on your own breath. Get it together. Your heart aches. You need, you want, does he?

“I…” he starts, then stops.

You turn. He’s already looking at you, face half lit up by the light on the back deck of the house. His lips look soft. They were, the one time you’ve felt them, pressed to your cheek in that hallway. His fingers fidget in yours, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The waves crash onto the shore over and over again. The sleeve of his hoodie brushes against your jaw when he cups the side of your face in his other hand. This time, you’re sure of it. You know what’s coming. He leans in, and you close your eyes.

If a kiss on the cheek sent butterflies wild in your stomach, this sends them through your whole body. Every nerve is on fire when his lips meet yours. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been waiting for so long. He’s warm against you, and his hand leaves your wrist to wrap around your waist and pull you close, and he tastes like rum and salt and smells like sunscreen. You tilt your head and let him deepen the kiss, let him take the lead, let him in. He’s smiling into it, and it makes your heart ache. When you tangle your hands in his hair, you can feel the sand stuck there, can feel the salt that still coats the strands from his swim earlier in the day. His hand slips to the back of your neck to hold you closer, and you melt for him, for the way he holds you so carefully and so surely, the warmth of him burning up your skin. He giggles into the kiss, light and airy and so Oscar it almost hurts, and you can’t help but match it.

He kisses you for what feels like forever. You can’t find it in you to complain.

…..

The rest of spring break tastes like coconut rum and tequila and Oscar. It feels like sun and sand and his hand wrapped up in yours, sneaking away at any chance you get. It smells like sunscreen and his cologne on the hoodie you stole from him, and it sounds like seagulls and his laughter, and the words he whispers into your ears when nobody’s nearby.

He steals you away while you’re in town, wandering the shops with everyone. He’s good at melting away into a crowd- and it is crowded, it’s spring break and everyone’s had the same idea as you. You hide in a souvenir store while you watch your friends disappear, and you don’t even feel guilty about it. You can’t, not when Oscar’s tangling his fingers with yours and pointing at a little beaded bracelet he says would look good on you. When he takes it up to the counter and buys it, and then loops it around your wrist for you, you feel absolutely giddy. You feel it even more when he kisses your temple sweetly. You rejoin the group a while later, just as they’re starting to worry. Nobody notices the bracelet, but you run your fingers over the beads all day.

Later in the week, he suggests a trip to the ice cream shop when everyone’s half asleep, mid afternoon. You’re tired, too, but when he says it, you suddenly feel wide awake. Once the two of your are out of sight of the house, he pulls you under his arm, hand squeezing at your shoulder the whole walk there. He buys you ice cream and shares his with you, too, and when he stops to kiss you on the walk back he tastes sweeter than ever.

There’s a lot of that- kissing. Anytime the two of you are alone. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Like the two of you have been holding back for so long that you can’t quite find it in you to stop. You sneak out of your rooms after everyone has gone to bed and meet on the beach at night, just the sea and the stars bearing witness as it all falls into place. You point out constellations, and Oscar tells you about the night sky in Australia, and how it feels different here. He finds you seashells admiring the way and gives them to you at night, and you start doing the same, each of you building up collections. They cover the empty space on the nightstand in your room.

One afternoon, you walk to the park nearby, all together, with a little picnic. It’s sweet- Max and Lando throw a football back and forth, and you sit in the grass and have cheese and crackers and fruit and watch people pass by. Eventually, George, Alex, and Lily head back to start dinner, and then Max, Lando, and Charles leave to pick up drinks on the way home. You and Oscar linger, though. They make it so easy to sneak away, really. You take the chance to lay on the blanket with him, your bed on his stomach, staring up at puffy white clouds in the big blue sky. His hand draws patterns on your shoulders.

When you finally head for the house, you walk past a set of soccer goals on a patch of grass. It’s easier, now, especially because it’s not the field where you got hurt. Oscar squeezes your hand anyways. It’s sweet. Something makes you slow to a stop. There’s a ball sitting there, in the middle of the field, black and white in stark contrast to the green. You drop his hand, and he makes a mild sound of protest. You walk over to the ball and toe at it gingerly, feeling the way it rolls under your foot.

He just eyes you carefully,

“We’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he nods. “I just…”

You can’t explain it. For years, you’ve never wanted to go near a soccer field or goal or ball. For years, this idea has brought tears to your eyes. But right now, you want to try. Oscar takes a step closer. He’s smiling.

You kick the ball at his feet. He passes it lightly back to you. The two of you exchange a look and take off down the grass together. You zig zag to every corner of the grass, not trying to get anywhere in any sort of hurry. You build up speed as you get closer and close to the goal, passing the ball back and forth with him. It feels good, to move your body and feel the grass beneath your feet. To feel the ball bounce off your shoe, to watch him accept the pass that you’ve placed so perfectly. You’re rusty, stiff, out of practice, but a little part of this still feels like home. There’s an achy feeling in your body that starts to melt away.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing, at first. He passes you the ball, and you’re in range of the net, and- you dart around him, eyes on the prize, now. He laughs, tries to go after you, catching on nearly immediately. But you’re too good at this, too fast- he’s used to blades on his feet and ice beneath him, not tennis shoes and grass and a ball rolling in front of you. You look up, find the goal, see your spot, and kick.

It sails through the air, hits the net, and falls to the ground. Goal. Behind you, Oscar cheers loud enough that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s all still there. That you’re really playing soccer, in front of a crowd again, scoring a goal, taking your team to a victory. You soak it in, for just a moment.

When you open your eyes, you’re on your back, staring at the sky, Oscar’s face looking down at you. His brows are furrowed.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks.

You shake your head. You know the tears in your eyes must contradict that. Oscar shifts on his feet for a second and then collapses to the ground next to you, legs kicked out away from yours, his head right next to your shoulder. The two of you form a little v on the grass, staring up at the sky.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed that,” you admit. “The… running, and the chasing, and the… scoring.”

His hand brushes against yours, then comes down to lay flat atop the back of it. His palm is warm and soft. You try to breathe normally. It’s easier said than done.

“You could always try again,” he says, quietly. “Do a club sport, or a league of some sort…”

You shake your head. “Nah, my knee is already starting to hurt.”

You rub your fingers against the ache. He sighs, heavily, and squeezes your hand. You turn your head to look at him. He’s close, closer than you realized. It wouldn’t take much for you to lean in, and nobody else is here, so you do. Just a short kiss, because you’re laying on a soccer field and there are kids and families nearby. But you want him to know how much this means to you. When you pull away, his cheeks are pink, and you think he understands.

Eventually, you know everyone will start to wonder where the two of you are. So when Oscar stands up and offers you a hand, you let him pull you up off the ground. He brushes grass off your back, and when you get back to the house, you head upstairs to change and hope nobody questions the grass stains on your shirt.

One night, after everyone’s in bed, you curl up on the beach on a blanket, your head against his chest. You listen to the waves and stare up at the stars. He draws lazy patterns on your back, his hand against your bare skin under the sweatshirt you stole from him.

“This is a real thing, right?” He says, quietly. “Not just a spring break thing?”

You smile into his chest, your cheeks suddenly warm. “God, I would hope so.”

“Okay, cool,” he says, in a very calm voice, like you can’t hear the thud of his heartbeat. “Cause I‘ve wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you murmur back.

Then he kisses you again, hand under your chin to pull your face to his. He’s a little sunburnt, and you can feel the heat of it on his skin when you brush your lips against his cheeks. Then again, maybe he’s just blushing. The way he smiles makes you think that might just be it.

…..

Keeping it from the rest of your friends is sort of… unspoken. It’s easy, like this, just the two of you. Easy to kiss and hold and talk and laugh without the pressure. You try to remind yourself that it’s okay to take it slow. That you have time to figure things out. And it’s easier to figure things out when you don’t have 6 other people’s opinions on it, let alone the whole team’s once they all find out. Whenever someone walks into the room and Oscar pulls his hand from yours, he scans your face, like he’s checking to make sure it’s okay. You always smile in return, and he lets out a little relieved sigh.

The very last night, you all order large amounts of pizza and breadsticks, and you spread out on blankets on the beach for dinner. The sun is low in the sky, and everything is golden. Oscar finds a spot next to you, laid out on the blanket. Max is already talking hockey plays, Lando listening intently while Alex rolls his eyes. George, Charles, and Lily are chatting about starfish. And Oscar is watching you, eyelashes fluttering against pink tinged cheeks. He’s being painfully obvious. When you smile back, you know you are too. For a moment, though, it doesn’t matter. Nobody’s paying attention anyways, as he brushes his fingers against the back of your hand where it lays on the blanket. It’s just you and him, for just a moment.

The next morning, before you head to the airport, you wake up early and find Oscar in the kitchen, cutting up fruit. His hair is a tousled mess, eyelids heavy, but when he sees you, he smiles, bright and warm and sweet. You walk over and slip between him and the counter, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I was busy, you know,” he mumbles, though he doesn’t pull away when you lean in to kiss him.

“Mm,” you sigh. He tastes sweeter than normal. He’s definitely been sneaking bites of fruit as he goes. “Mango. My favorite.”

His cheeks are flushed. “Thought I was your favorite.”

You shrug and wink. “Close second.”

He swipes a piece off the counter behind you and presses it to your lips. You give him a closed lip smile as you eat it, feeling warm all over. He leans in and kisses you again when you’re done chewing, and you have the sudden, strong urge to pull him close, to press your hips into his, to let him pin you against the counter. But your friends are probably all about to wake up, so instead, you pull away and press a finger into the swell of his cheek. He laughs and kisses the furrow between your brows.

“Heading home today,” he mumbles, smile falling slightly.

You nod. “But it’s not just a spring break thing, remember?”

He nods again, the smile coming back to his lips. “Yeah. Just. Do you think we need to tell them?”

You know what he’s talking about. Or who he’s talking about, really. You tilt your head, chewing on your lower lip. “Do you think we need to?”

He sighs, nose bumping against yours. “They’re your best friends.”

And. Oh. Right. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, that it’s not just his teammates and your friends. It’s Lando and Max. Your chest twists. You like that it’s just you and Oscar, but you think about them, about how you share everything, and you wonder if they’ll be upset. Not even that it’s him, but just that you didn’t tell them. On the other hand, they’re likely to get overprotective and weird when they do find out. Max banned a guy you went on a date with from all parties your sophomore year, until Charles told him off for it, but by then it was too late. The guy was a jerk, which was half the issue, but still.

You blow out a puff of air, and then you have an idea. “I might… tell them I’m seeing someone, to start,” you suggest. “Just not who. Just… someone. Is that okay?” You ask.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he says.

“Okay. Cool. Me too,” you say with a nod.

Oscar giggles. You hear a door open, and footsteps. He groans, and you lean in one last time to press a kiss to his lips before you slip away. You sit down on a barstool just before George walks in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning,” he says, voice scratchy. “Ready to go home?”

“No,” you admit, and Oscar hums in agreement.

When he dishes out the fruit to everyone later, he gives you most of the mango. You grin up at him, wide eyed and feeling so, so happy. When you break his gaze and look across the table, you find Charles staring back at you, a knowing smirk on his face, and you wonder if you’ve been caught. Maybe you just look like a girl with a crush. You still feel like one, really.

You all walk down to the water one last time, dipping your feet into the waves as they crash against the sand. Oscar’s hand brushes against yours as he does the same. You don’t want to ever lose this feeling. The sun on your skin, the water tugging at your feet, and Oscar, next to you, feeling the same way you do.

When you pack the bags into the Uber to head for the airport, you feel a wave of sadness wash over you. You want nothing more than to stay, to never worry about school again, to let Oscar wrap you up in his arms and never leave. You pout, and Max catches you, laughing and pulling you into a loose hug.

“It’s okay, Bunny,” he murmurs, ruffling your hair. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

You don’t say it, but you think it- he and Lando are graduating this year. There’s a good chance they won’t be back next year, too busy with work or real life or whatever comes after college for them. Your heart twists. And Oscar- will he still be yours by then? Not just a spring break thing, you remember, but you have a strong urge to plant your feet in the sand and try to keep them all here. You watch your friends pack bags in the trunk and tease each other and laugh and your chest aches.

“Hey,” Lando says, quietly, sneaking up your other side. “We’ll be back.”

He knows. Max does too, but Lando really knows, because you think he feels it too. Max is trying to play hockey after college, but beyond beer leagues and pickup games, this year will be it for Lando. Senior year is exciting, but it’s a year full of lasts, too.

“Promise?” You ask, quietly.

He links his pinky with yours. “Promise.”

So you climb into the car, and you end up wedged between Oscar and Charles in the row of seats at the back of the car. Max is in the front seat, chatting away to the driver, and Lando’s already leaning his head against the door, half asleep. You press your shoulder into Oscar’s. He spots your hand on the seat between you and reaches out, brushes his fingers against the back of your hand. When you lean your head on his shoulder and let your eyes fall half closed, nobody questions it- you do it to all of them, all the time.

The beach house disappears in the rearview. Oscar presses a kiss to the top of your head when nobody’s looking, and you start to believe everything will really be okay.

bunnyrabb1t

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen33, and 53 others

bunnyrabb1t truly a spring break to remember forever

landonorris still annoyed you and @/oscarpiastri didn’t bring me ice cream back :(

oscarpiastri You were invited & you called our ice cream trip dumb

landonorris doesn’t mean i didn’t want ice cream

lilymhe always a trip to remember with you babe!

bunnyrabb1t ilysm bb 😘

alex_albon hey. back off 🤺

oscarpiastri 🩵☀️🌊⛱️

bunnyrabb1t 🩵🌅🐚🕶️

charles_leclerc 🤨

carlossainz55 charles you are just jealous he is actually on her instagram before you

notes: hiiiiiiii hope this one was worth the wait!! if you are one of the people who told me you were staying up late for this: go to sleep! this is me tucking you in! see ya soon!!

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11

(crossed out means i was unable to tag!)

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ew-selfish-art · 10 months

Text

DpxDc AU: Soulmates only meet in the afterlife...And Danny is dead half of the time.

It was the general consensus that Soulmates did indeed exist, and that there were a couple of hints to know if your soulmate was, but you wouldn’t know for certain until you died. This was often devastating for widows of non-soulmates but... Widows could hear the voices of and feel the phantom touches of their Soulmates. That after their loved one passed away, they didn’t truly leave them.

Soulmates always traveled to the infinite realms together in a pair, unwilling to pass on without the other. This leads to the ghosts that seemingly never moved on and gave Danny so much grief, they needed to pass the time until their loved one died some how.

Danny dies and feels himself talking to himself more often while transformed into Phantom, kicking butt and taking names aside. Just small things to reassure himself, nothing more than an instinct to process the situation he was in with this insane life he was living.

I’m going to be okay, I’m going to get out of this.

I swear to all the ancients that Casper High better make a statue in my honor.

Mom and Dad don’t mean it.

The fundraiser to rebuild Poltergeist Avenue is going to be ridiculous.

Mom and Dad wouldn’t mean it if they really knew.

Nasty burger really should rebrand but my goodness is this the best shit ever.

It takes a few years to think about the fact that he might have a soulmate who could hear him- how unlikely would that be though? It’s not like he was haunting the person, so it probably wasn’t any big issue. Was there a proximity thing involved? Clockwork sighs and gives him no true answers.

...

Tim has been hearing the voice of his Soulmate for years. Not...All the time though. He’d mapped out the time frame by which he did hear the additional male voice, accumulated enough data to determine a general profile and geotagged a few of the landmarks mentioned to find the most likely town. Restaurants, street names, highschools, and notable names all help Tim to find what he’s looking for. The concerning amount of comments on his soulmates parents make Tim’s blood boil and motivate him all the more.

Thing is...Amity Park is under a complete media blackout. The challenge nearly makes him swoon, as if his dead soulmate were leading him towards his favorite hobby (taking down corrupt groups of assholes with too much power, cult or government, was his ideal pass time). He just wants to know who his soulmate was. He wants to know who is waiting for him.

Arriving undercover and unannounced as a random tourist, Tim cannot find his soulmates grave. Can’t find anything about the person who died all those years ago and had spoken in his ear ever since. He’s about to storm the Mayor’s office, his plans for the GIW already in motion, when a ghost attack begins.

Phantom arrives and suddenly Tim understands who exactly he’s been looking for. Getting into the crosshairs of the fight, Tim pulls a few RR moves and Phantom cautiously approaches him after capturing the assailant ghost.

“I’m here because you’re my soulmate, and it’s very interesting that you only talk to me during non-business hours. Care to explain what you’re doing between 9 am and 3 pm, Monday through Friday?”

“Uh... High school mostly. Wait you can hear me? You’re my soulmate?”

Cue Danny de-transformation, explanation of his death and ability to die on command, and Tim’s very softball interrogation with his presentation on how he found Danny through the small conversational phrases.

They kiss as the GIW headquarters explode in the background.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc crossover #dp crossover #danny phantom #tim drake #this could work with a number of other soulmates in the JL #It would be interesting with Jason or Damian also since they've died and come back #that got more complicated than i wanted to write tho lmao #soulmate au

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surielstea · 2 months

Text

Midnight Meetings

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Eris are secretly mates and refuse to get caught, despite being deep in love.

Warnings: MINORS DNI | 18+ | smut | P in V | Fingering | praise | rough sex | pet names | overstimulation ||| lots of fluff :)

6.8k words

A/N: not proofread!

I knocked on the dark green door in front of me before backing away and hugging my navy blue cloak tighter to my body, my hood covering my face entirely as I stared down at my feet.

The door quickly swings open, revealing a curious red-headed male. I smile and even if he could only see the bottom half of my face, he'd recognize my grin anywhere.

"You don't look suspicious at all," Eris drawls as I welcome myself into his apartment. "Well, it's not like you can come visit me." I shrug off my cloak and hang it on the coat rack. "I would winnow right into your bedroom if you allowed me to." He states and I shake my head incredulously. "I have no doubt you would."

I whirl around, looking up at my mate with yearning eyes. "I missed you." He sighed, his large hands coming up to cup my jaw. "It's only been a few days." I excuse and he presses a kiss on my forehead. "A few days too long." He corrects, moving down and kissing the tip of my nose. "I'm here now." I remind and a smile curves his lips before I rise onto my toes and connect our lips, my chest pressing against his as I wrap my arms tighter around the back of his neck.

When I back away he looks at the clock on the wall, nearly a quarter past midnight. He knows I have to leave at dawn, less than six hours from now I'll be out of his grasp and back in my Court. "I'm so sick of these secret meetings." He grumbles, hands traveling from my jaw, past my shoulders, to my hands where he intertwined our fingers. I nod in agreement, tired from the amount of winnowing it took to get here.

"We should just tell your little group." He suggests as he pulls me over to his couch. "Are you kidding? They'll burn me at the stake." I snort and he plops down onto his sofa, I waste no time straddling his hips as he leans his back against the armrest, staring up at me lovingly. "Fire's such a horrible way to go out." He states, holding up his hand and I marvel as a small flame emits from the center of his palm. I grin wildly, the small fire flickering as I cup my hand over it, but it doesn't burn, it almost tickles with the way it dances along my skin.

"I love it when you do that," I murmur and he makes the flame slightly larger, illuminating my face and I can't help but unabashedly stare. "I could set entire forests to flame but you like this, a fire no larger than a candle." He observes and my eyes flick up to his, the fire reflecting in them. "Well anyone can have power, it takes control to do this." I cup my hand over the flame entirely and it goes out, his fingers curling around mine.

"You can thank my father for that." He grumbles and I shake my head. "It's different, more gentle." I smile. "Setting worlds to burn is all your father's doing, but this, you get this from your mother," I explain and he blinks, his cheeks staining with color. He swallows thickly before replying, "I love you." Is all he can get out and I giggle at the idea of making Eris Vanserra's mind go blank. "Love you too." I cup his cheek with my other hand before leaning in and slotting our mouths against each other.

The kiss alights like an ember, sparking flames to run down the line of my spine, his hands coming to my waist to keep me still, hugging me to him as if he needed me so much closer. "I missed you too," I whisper onto his lips. "Missed you so much." I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, burrowing into his warmth— afraid it would disappear and I'd be left in the cold, as well as the dark without his fire.

His hand comes to my cheek and he pulls away, thumb running over my bottom lip as he does so. "I don't want to waste our whole time having sex." He muttered and I smiled cheekily. "You think it's a waste?" I tease, hands coming to his shoulders.

"No. I just, I like talking too." He explained and I smiled before leaning in and pecking his lips. "Only teasing Eris." I hum in between kisses. "We can talk as long as you want," I flip off of his lap and cuddle into his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder while my leg hooks around his torso. "Well, you can talk to me until dawn." I correct and he releases a long sigh at the limitation, his hand tracing up and down my arm, absentmindedly drawing hearts and spelling out his name.

"What do you have going on tomorrow?" I ask, my hand slipping under his shirt in craving for his warmth. "Lashing from my father, brothers trying to kill me, the usual." He lowly whistles and I frown, propping my chin up on his collarbone, staring up at him. "You don't even have any... General stuff going on?" I ask and a small smirk pulls at his lips.

"General stuff?" He mocks and I bury my face back into his chest. "Shut up, I don't know the terms," I murmur with embarrassment as he chuckles. "I'm the General of armies, there's no war ongoing at the moment." He informs and I roll my eyes. "Isn't there some preparation you need to do?" I flip back into his lap. "Are you calling war on me?" He arches a perfect brow and my other hand slips under his shirt.

"No Sir." I shake my head, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He lets a low grunt slip from his lips at the nickname and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his middle and propping my head up on his sternum, staring into his amber eyes as he watched me through his lashes.

"You just love to tease me don't you?" He hums, his hands coming to my waist and I nod brightly. "Because I'm the only one who can get away with it." I croon and he fights back a smile because he knows I'm right. "How so?" He tilts his head as if he doesn't already know he's head over heels. "Making you stumble over your words is so cute." I hum, nails lightly dragging along his toned abdomen. "I do not stumble over my words." He states it as if it's a fact. "Sure you don't my lord." I jeer, the nickname has his ears perking up, the casual intimacy making his body unsure how to act.

Eris had never gotten the love he deserved as a child, his mother gave him a peck on the cheek every now and then when he got to see her, but after his brother was born all of her attention quickly went to him. Eris understood, he was in his twenties by then, helped raise each of his brothers, and made sure they got the necessary love he didn't receive. Some of them were poisoned by their fathers' words and manipulations, the horrid male pitting his brothers against him, the boys he raised only for them to try and stab him in the back in foolish desire to become the sole Heir.

That's why when I met him, actually met him, I gave him every bare inch of my love, force-feeding it down his throat if I had to, in need to make him feel as cherished as he should've as a child. It pains me to know his father still has control at times, to think about the main reason I wasn't allowed to publicly love him.

My family was one thing, they truly loved me and would eventually understand why I was with Eris, but Beron, he'd use it against him, threaten me at every chance he got and it'd work on Eris. No matter how safe I was, if Beron somehow got his hands on me Eris didn't know how he'd act, doubted he'd even think beforehand, which scared the ever-living hel out of the prince.

"Have you gone quiet because you're afraid of being too tongue-tied?" I smile at him, my hand now running through his auburn hair. He nods silently and I giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I love you." I hum and he pales, the light dust of freckles along his cheeks coming to show. "My gods—you can't— it's mean of you to just say that." He stutters out and I snicker. "So flustered over a few words." I taunt and he releases a huff of defeat.

"How is it mean?" I ask, pushing the hair away from his eyes, and combing my fingers through the soft locks. "You say it so casually," His large hands drag up and down my waist. "It's odd how easily you say it." He explains and I smile softly at him, lifting from his chest so my face is hovering above his. "But it's how I feel." I reason with him and he looks up at me, his dark lashes fanning over his eyelids. "I mean it, I do love you." I reassured, remembering the first time I said it to him, how he carried me straight to the closest bedroom and didn't let me leave in the morning, said I had to stay another day as he held me to his chest and forbade me from leaving until later that night.

"I love you too." A genuine smile coming to his features, one of his hands reaching up to cup around the back of my neck, his thumb stroking over the line of my jaw. He pulls me down and I allow it, slotting my lips onto his. Warmth blossomed in my chest as his silken lips met with mine yet again, my mouth molding to his like he was made for me, made for kissing me only.

It doesn't take long until we're out of breath, his tongue in my mouth as I part my lips for him willingly, his hands running over any point of my body he could reach, hand on my thigh, pulling me higher up onto him. Sighs of devotion filled the silence of the room, his scent enveloping me, warm cinnamon and campfire embers surrounding me as I pressed my chest to his by arching my back.

He smiled into the kiss, using his hand on my cheek to guide me away from his lips, which I reluctantly pulled away from.

"What happened to talking?" He says and I frown. "I figured we had a better use of our mouths." I shrug and he sighs contentedly, wrapping both his arms around my middle and pulling me down onto him, flipping onto his side so we could lie facing each other, heads resting on the same pillow. "I don't want you to leave." I frown and I mirror it. "I don't want to either," I mutter. "And I'll have to leave a little earlier so I can shower the 'you' off of me," I add and he rolls his eyes, leaning down and stuffing his nose into the crook of my shoulder. "I like when you smell like me," He mumbles into my skin. "Tell those bastards who you belong to," He hummed, his tone determined and I let out a quiet laugh. "Mine." He mumbles into my neck, pressing soft kisses to my neck, up the column of my throat then back down to my shoulder. "All mine." He whispers, hugging me impossibly closer. "All yours." I soothe, scratching his scalp and he groans at the feeling, burrowing deeper into my shoulder. I smile and press a kiss to the top of his head.

I allow silence to settle over us. I knew he was tired, he had a meeting with his father and all his advisers today, which would drain anyone. He wrote me a note saying he needed to see me, that he didn't want to talk about what happened, just that he wanted me in his arms. I showed up as early as I could, which was midnight. The Night Court stays up late, making it far too difficult to sneak out.

His fingertips traced random shapes along my waist, then his name over and over again.

"Hey, Eris," I call. "Hm?" He mumbles back tiredly, fighting off the sleep in hopes of spending more time with me before I disappear in the mornings. "Do you want to get married?" I prompt and his ears perk up, eyes peeling open as he backs away from my neck so that his attention is entirely on me. "If that's what you want," He murmurs, eyes watching mine as if trying to get a read on my emotions. "It's just that, Rhys said the other day that you need to prove your loyalty to the Night Court since that whole Nesta thing didn't work," I explain and he's now fully awake. "What are you asking?" He runs a hand down my spine and I swallow. "Why haven't you proposed to me?" I frown and a small smile spreads across his face. "Because you're not a battle strategy my fawn." He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips. "I don't want to marry you just because Rhys said so, I want it to be authentic." He hums, hand intertwining with my smaller one. "But I do, want to marry you." I reason with him and he grins childishly, kissing me again. "Then we'll get married." He whispers. "During the meeting next week Rhys is going to ask you what you want," I mutter and his head comes up to my face, rubbing over my cheekbone. "And I'll ask for your hand," He nods, understanding. "Exactly." I smile excitedly, hopeful that others will assume we fell in love after marriage.

He stuffs his face back into my shoulder, his embrace around me like a fireplace, reminding me of cuddling beside the hearth with a cup of tea just as hot.

My hands return to his hair, nails scratching his head lightly, sending him into a comfortable slumber, sleep finding him in the best of places with me in his arms as if he's never felt more secure than he did now.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The hewn city always gave me the shivers, I hated being in this place, hated every inch of the Court of Nightmares, my birthplace, my childhood home. It was cold here, the feel of a cold spider crawling down my spine was at a constant.

Eris stood in front of the entire inner circle like an interrogation. We were discussing the peace treaty Rhys has been working on for quite some time now. Seated at a meeting table made of solid black marble, the chair I sat in was a matching color that ate up any light around it. Azriel stood behind me, his hands resting on the headrest of my seat, refraining from pouncing on the Heir at any given moment.

"If you think for even a moment that my father will sign your little settlement you've either been brainwashed or you truly are the brute I thought you to be." My mate hums towards the high lord and I mentally curse him. Can't you just act civil towards them for a moment? I ask and a smile curves his lips, which is all the response I need. The spymaster lets out a low growl behind me, his hands digging into the material at the back of my chair. I reach behind my head and set my hand atop his scarred one, calming him down. Eris noticed the couch and watched as the spy master's fingers intertwined with mine, the future high lord noticeably grinding his teeth. I flashed him a pretty smile that mirrored his previous one.

"We don't need your father, we need the High Lord of the Autumn Court." Feyre stared and everyone's head whipped to her. "Would you sign it? If given the title?" Feyre asks and Eris tilts his head with a sloppy smile. "Perhaps," He shrugs, I have to physically hold back from rolling my eyes. Always one for the dramatics.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cassian bristles. "Well once I'm in power you can't be sure of where my loyalties lie, and after you rejected my proposal—" He says pointedly at Nesta. "There's no knowing who I might turn to after becoming High Lord." He lets on and my stomach twists anxiously, despite knowing where this was going Eris had such a way with his words that had even me believing he'd betray us if given a better offer.

I'm starting to second-guess this plan. I confess to him, something warm breezes over me, flames spreading across my mind to calm me. There's nothing to worry about my fawn, it'll go as intended. He reassured but the fear on the edge of my mind remained.

"You can't have her." Cassian grits out, crossing his arms over his chest and I'd never seen him look more intimidating, even on a battlefield that fierceness was nothing compared to the pure loathing in his eyes. "I don't want Nesta," Eris scoffs at the Illyrian, lazily looking at him. "Then what do you want?" Nesta leaned onto the table, narrowing her gaze on him.

Eris looked at every set of eyes at the table before lastly meeting mine. His stare doesn't falter for even a moment, so confident when he looks at me like he's got no fear in the world. "Her." He states, voices steady and certain.

"Absolutely not." Azriel rules from behind me, I look to Rhys who seems to have the same opinion as the shadow singer. "Find something else, you can't have her." Rhys orders in a voice that reminds me solely of the most powerful High Lord. "You were so eager to sell Nesta off, when I asked for her hand you gave her the decision." Eris reminds and Rhysand's jaw clamps shut, muscles feathering along it. He releases a breath of annoyance, looking at me. It's up to you. He says into the chambers of my mind I have sectioned for him and him only, not allowing him to see my thoughts of Eris, I won't let him find the mating bond, gods forbid the memories.

I remove my hand from Azriel's and fold my hands in my lap anxiously, Rhys has just put the fate of this court in my hands, but more selfishly, the outcome of my relationship with Eris. I swallow thickly, my eyes flicking up to the Heir to Autumn. I can feel everyone watching me, intently staring as if trying to read my answer before I even reply.

"If Beron dies and you come to power, if you promise to sign the treaty I will marry you," I say meekly as if this wasn't my idea. I can practically feel Azriel seething behind me. He's always had issues with his temper and I wonder if he'll pounce on Eris yet again depending on what the Prince says next. "A bargain then." He smirks and I nod. My eyes flick to Rhys as I stand, Eris does the same. We meet in the middle, his left hand reaching out. The hands that have felt every inch of me, the hands that have cradled me as well as fucked me.

I set my palm into his, the familiar feeling has them slotting together perfectly. I look into his eyes and a searing pain etched itself onto my left hand. I don't look away from his eyes. I wanted to feel the burn, relishing in the feeling of the bargain marking me, making it clear to my family that I am his and he in mine, in one way or another.

The pain ceases and I'm hesitant to pull my hand away, I haven't felt his warmth in a week. He takes his hand away first and I follow the action, looking down at the tattoo that tainted my hand, intricately designed lines and patterns running along the back of my palm, coming up and looping around my ring finger like a wedding band, his to match exactly. I look to my family across the table, all the way on the other side now that I stood by Eris, it felt like some kind of metaphor that I couldn't shake.

"Settled then?"

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"What an absolute bastard." Rhys groans, flopping down onto the couch. I anxiously watch the Inner Circle as they all settle into the sitting room. "I wouldn't have accepted the proposal if he had ill intent," I mumble, coming to his defense as much as I could without raising suspicion. "You shouldn't have," Cassian says, taking a seat in his designated chair. Nesta went back to the House of Wind, Amren and Mor went back to their respective apartments, and Feyre had gone to bed early, leaving me with the three winged males.

"This Court was at stake," I argue. "This Court would've been fine," Rhys states. "We could've found something else, anything else." The high lord sighs. Azriel was utterly silent, which frightened me. "Eris always has an ulterior motive, whatever he wants with you scares the shit out of me," Cassian explains with a soft expression and a frown rugs at my lips. "I understand your point, but you let me have a choice and I made it," I say, still standing, facing all three of them staring at me like overprotective brothers.

"What does he want with you?" Azriel narrowed his eyes on me. I pale, unsure what he meant. "You know something we don't." He stated, his voice certain. "I— I'm not sure what you mean." I crease my brows, the other two Illyrians look at the spymaster confused. He stood, leveling his gaze with mine as he towered over me. "What are you hiding?" His eyes analyze every movement of my body, taking a step back as he steps forward. His eyes were dark as he walked towards me.

"Az," I mumble, utterly passive under the shadow singer's gaze. "Nothing, you would know if I had secrets." I try to play it off with a soft laugh but it's futile. "Would I?" He grits out and I blink rapidly due to what felt like fear, not towards Azriel, never towards him. But what would he do if he found out? "Az, you're scaring me," I mutter, purposefully making my voice shake. It was a low move, but I knew it'd make him stop.

His eyes run along my features then back to my eyes. "I'm sorry," He places his hands on my shoulders. "I just, you're sure there isn't anything I should know?" He creases his dark brows and I swallow down my word vomit. The tenderness in his voice has me wanting to tell him everything. I take a deep breath, looking into his hazel eyes, and realizing the silence has stretched on for far too long I speak. "Nothing." I square my features and his hands slip from my shoulders. "I understand." He hums, backing away and brushing past me towards his bedroom.

I look at the two males still in their seats staring at me with raised brows. "I think I'm going to go to bed as well, it's been a long day," I mumble, eager to get out of there, and get to my apartment. "Of course, get good sleep," Rhys says, I look to Cassian and he gives me a nod. I return it before winnowing back to my apartment.

I release a long sigh, walk into my office, and shuffle through my drawers until I find a piece of note paper and a pen, I quickly scribble onto it.

Are you still here? I write, watching as the paper disappears from thin air, impatiently I wait for a reply, rocking on my heels until the paper appears again, fluttering down onto my desk with familiar handwriting on it.

Miss me already?

I roll my eyes at the words and quickly jot down my reply with the neatest brand I can muster.

Maybe just a little, will you answer my question now? He's quick to reply this time.

I am. Want to come back?

Why don't you come to my apartment?

I watch the note disappear and I anxiously click my pen repeatedly as I wait for him to reply, taking longer than it should've.

Oh? Now look who's trying to get caught?

Eris, will you come or not?

Give me a moment Love, I'll be there.

I smile at the note, allowing it to rest on my desk as I walk into my bedroom, shuffling through my nightgowns. I find my softest one, a pale yellow chiffon that ends at my thighs. I strip from my heavy dress, pushing it down my hips before hopping out of it. I had the gown back up into my large closet, placing it on the rack for later wearing, then moving back to my bedroom where I left the nightgown on my bed.

My brows crease when the yellow fabric is no longer fanned out on the bed. "This is awfully short," A voice hums in the dark room and I jump, my head whipping to a familiar silhouette holding up the pastel dress. "Don't you think?" He flicks his eyes up to me and my ears perk up as a cheeky grin spreads across my face. "Want to put it on me?" I suggest, taking a step towards my mate. "I'd rather be the one taking it off." He intones and I roll my eyes, sauntering over to him until we're nearly chest to chest. "I'll let you do that too." I raise my arms up and he smiles, slipping the dress over my arms, passing my shoulders, bending down, and pulling the pretty dress past my hips. He looks up at me from his knees and I smile down at him, my hand going into his hair.

"My pretty fiancé." I tease and he presses a kiss to my thigh, his bright eyes never leaving mine. "I love this," I say, hand coming down to caress the side of his face. "Love what?" He arches a brow curiously, my fingers coming under his chin and tilting his head higher up. "Love that I have Eris Vanserra down on his knees for me," I mutter, bending at the hips and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I think I love it too." He confesses as my hand leaves his chin and cups around the back of his neck.

He stands up, my head tilting with him, lips never leaning as he places his hand on my waist and walks towards me, guiding me with him until the backs of my thighs hit the plushness of my bed. I smile, detaching our lips before hoisting myself onto the bed, crawling further up until my back is resting on the headboard.

He wastes no time in mounting over me, arms coming to either side of me as his lips slot against mine yet again.

I arch my back as his hands press against my waist, my chest pushing up against his. "It was a mistake to put this dress on," He murmurs into my mouth and I sigh breathlessly. "Whys that?" I mutter. "Because now all I want to do is see it on the floor." He purrs and a smirk curved my lips. "Then what are you waiting for?" I taunt. His fingers make quick work of slipping the thin straps from my shoulders.

He tugs it down my thighs, forcing it past my hips and throwing it off onto my floor, exactly as he promised. I was left in nothing but my undergarments, feeling particularly bare I began to work on the buttons of his shirt, pulling them undone as I worked lower and lower, as soon as I reached his waist where his shirt ends, I began unbuckling his belt.

He does the rest of the shirt for me, not daring to break our kiss, his mouth staking claim on me like a ravaging beast needing to feed, and I was the only sustenance around. I get his belt off, the rattling of it familiar as it clatters to the floor.

My arms trail up his arms that framed either side of my head, feeling up the Heirs biceps, nails clawing down his back as his hips drag along mine.

"Eris," I pant out. "I know." He nods, understanding exactly what I was feeling in my chest, the bond between us growing every time he touches me, that tether, impossible to ignore, glimmering between us as his left hand roams every inch of my bare skin.

I breathe a sigh of satisfaction once his palm finds purchase at my breast, groping the sensitive flesh.

I moan into our kiss at the feeling, our kiss that was all tongue and teeth, hurried passion with a hunger I knew well. His hand leaves my breast much to my dismay, instead, he shucks off his pants. I smile excitedly as two of his fingers dip down past my pantie line, pinching the lacy undergarment between his fingers. "This is okay?" He whispers breathlessly against my lips and I nod with a needy fervor. "More than okay," I murmur and he wastes no time, lips crashing back down onto mine and he's pulling off my panties, discarding them along with the rest of my clothes on the floor.

"Touch me," I beg as soon as the cold air hits my wet core, clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Eris, please," I whine and he presses a kiss to my forehead, hand raking down my body. "Tell me how." He hummed and my brows creased in perpetual need. "Your fingers, inside," I murmur out with creased brows and a corrupting smile curves the Heirs lips, his thumb finding my clit.

A gasp racks through me at the intense feeling, two of his long fingers dragging through my soaked folds. "You're soaked." He observed and I nodded, showing him just how much I'd needed him all day today, knowing he was in my court, in my grasp, but I couldn't have him, not until now.

"Fuck, feels good." I sigh contentedly as his thumb begins circling tightly around my puffy clit, sensitive to his stimulation. "Yeah?" He hovers over me and I nod with my eyes clenched shut, reveling in the way he lathered his fingers in my slick.

His fingers enter me, two at once. My breath hitched and my heart rate doubled at the intense heat that overwhelms my body. He doesn't wait for me to adjust, and begins pumping his fingers in and out of me at a rapid pace, hitting deeper every time— he finds that spongy bundle of nerves deep inside of me and I scream his name, hands feeding into his hair as I grip his hair between my fingers, whining as I beg for him to abuse that spot.

He does as told, palm resting against my clit and pushing down onto it, allowing me further friction as I begin grinding down onto his hand, fingers scissoring inside of me, doing wicked things that have me pulling his hair and moaning ridiculously loud.

"I'm close," I mumble out, tears welling in my eyes at the immense pleasure. "Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers pretty girl?" He asks and I nod, opening my eyes to look up at him. He looked like an angel from this perspective, his hair hanging over his eyes as I ran my hands through it, pushing it back so I could see his lust-blown eyes.

"Eris— I'm cumming!" I confess and he smirks above me, thumb flicking over my clit, causing my legs to jolt as I reach ecstasy, finding that high and grasping onto it for dear life, riding it out as my grinds come to a stop and his fingers, slowly, slip from my entrance. I looked at him with a fucked-out expression, watching as he took his fingers into his mouth, licking every drop of my release off of his own hand.

I clench my legs shut, whimpering as my orgasm lingers on the edge of my mind, another one would quickly be approaching if I got any form of fraction between my thighs.

"Wanna, make you feel good too." I blink up at him helplessly and he sloppily grins down at me. "Want your cock." I mumble, already knowing what he wants of me. His eyes practically glow golden at my behavior, his member straining against the last remaining fabric between us and he removes it, his sex springing up against his abdomen, precum seeping from his tip. My mouth waters at the sight of it, hand coming to it and swiping the pearl of white away, bringing it up to my lips and licking it away.

He presses his core into mine, his heavy cock dragging through my folds, lubing himself for my pleasure. I hum in want, in pure need, for more. He strokes himself once, then twice. His tip red and angry as he aligns it with my slit and I bite my bottom lip, forcing myself to stare as he pushes in, inching himself deeper and deeper.

"So, big," I mutter incoherently, too cock-drunk to recognize anything else. The stretch was far from foreign but gods did it feel good, my walls hugging his thick shaft, pushing inside of me further and further. My breath quickens as he presses against that bundle of nerves— then goes further.

Tears spring to my eyes at the pleasurable pain, nails digging into his shoulder as his hips finally hit mine and I release a gasp of relief.

He looks at me reassuringly, my eyes catching contact with his. "Hard, go hard," I beg. "Want you feral," I mumble. "You're so good for me." He mutters, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead as he pulls all the way out to his tip, and without warning— slams back in, moans ripping from my throat at the sudden change of pace, his thrusts becoming animalistic as he hits home, every single time.

"Fuck," any brows crease together, nails now making red marks down his back that rippled with muscle. He drives into me with sheer fervor, not letting up for even a moment as I contract around him with a sharp breath, feeling every ridge and dip of his member as he uses me like a sleeve, molding to him and him only.

"You're so fucking tight," He grunts out, hips rolling over mine. Tears roll down my face but he doesn't care, he continues fucking me with an unmatched speed. "Eris, too much," I whine out, gripping his back, attempting to find purchase anywhere I can manage. "Be a good girl and take it, yeah?" He hums, lips finding mine again, shutting my complaints up and hammering into me.

"I'm gonna— I'm so close," I mumble into his mouth and he nods. "Me too baby," He reassures over the sounds of his tight balls slapping against my ass, hips clapping against mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, finding every crevice it can manage and I just allow it. Let him take over my entire body, reaching a headspace that made me entirely passive, just wanting his hands on me, anywhere, everywhere.

"You going to cum on my cock my girl?" He asks and I nod earnestly, tear-stained cheeks flushed pink from the exertion. "Please, can I?" I wasn't above begging, I was ready to get down onto my knees if it meant I could have that sweet release, so close I could almost taste it— feeling that knot tighten in my core. "You can," He allows, and with another thrust of his hips, grinding them down onto mine and rolling over that perfect spot inside of me I'm reaching that

Warmth blossoms in my abdomen as I feel my orgasm crash over me like a wave of pure pleasure. I clench tightly around him, walls fluttering around his cock and then his warm seed fills me, letting out a groan of my name as his release pumps into me. He lets out a shaky sigh as he works himself down from the intense high, slowly removing his heavy shaft from my entrance and flipping down beside me.

Pants for air fill the room, the cold bedsheets feeling like heaven on my hot skin, still, I burrow into Eris. Flipping onto my side and resting my head against his chest. His hand comes into my hair, dragging his fingers through it as we regain our breath, my hand on his abdomen, tracing random shapes on the muscle.

"Do you want to stay the night?" I ask after a stretch of comfortable silence. "You have to be gone by dawn but, a few hours of sleep couldn't hurt." I excuse and his hand in my hair halts. "You have no idea how enticing that sounds." He sighs. "Then stay." I look up at him, blinking slowly as exhaustion took me full throttle. "Okay." He nods. "Okay." I smile, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet— contradicting the events that just took place. "Let's get you cleaned up first."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I woke up to the birds outside my window cooing their morning song, I released a soft sigh and noticed a heavy weight around my middle. I peek my eyes open, looking down at the familiar arm that belonged to my mate. I mumble a chain of incoherent sounds, my hand sliding from my forearm up to his large bicep, the feel of his muscles having my body set to flame. I flip around and look up at the pretty male, his red hair cascading over his eyes messily. I drag my fingers through it, pushing the strands away so I can look at his features.

The sunlight seeped past my sheer curtains, shining softly down into his sharp features. He seemed so at peace with his head on my pillows, his arm around me. I move my hand from his hair down to cup his cheek. In the sunlight, I can see each one of his freckles so clearly I swore I could lie here and count them all day.

I wonder why I don't admire him more in the mornings, he truly was meant to be admired during sunrise.

I quickly realized I never saw him during the mornings because I was too busy collecting my things and rushing out of his apartment to get back to my house before anyone noticed.

"Eris." I spring up, shaking his shoulders. "Eris, wake up." I urge. He peeks one eye open with a grimace. "Everything's okay," His hands come up to the sides of my face, his immediate response to comfort me even half-asleep. "No, Eris you have to go," I say clearly and he mumbles something I don't understand. "What's wrong?" He asks, rubbing his eyes, clearly confused. "You fell asleep, you need to go back to Autumn." I reason with him and he groans, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back down onto the bed. "Does anybody come to your apartment in the mornings?" He asks. "No," I say muffled with my cheek smushed into his chest. "And do you need to leave anytime soon?" He adds and I shake my head. "Not until late afternoon," I explain and he pulls me so much closer. "So what's the rush, Fawn?" He prompts and my ears perk up, realizing there was no real reason for him to leave so early. "I suppose there isn't one," I mumble, allowing myself to return to admiring his features, his auburn eyes not halfway open to stare at me back.

"Good morning." He says and I smile wildly, not realizing how badly I wished for him to still be around the morning after. "Morning my love." I press a kiss to the corner of his lips, he smiles at the feeling. "My betrothed is so pretty in the mornings." He hums his morning voice something I've rarely heard, the deep sound of it having my ears perk up. "Your betrothed?" I arch my brow and he nods tiredly, intertwining our left hands that were designed in tattoos.

"Mhm, now go back to sleep beloved." He pulls the blanket over our heads and I giggle, now enveloped in the dark with him. "I love you," I whisper like we're about to tell scary stories. "Love you too." He leans in blindly and somehow finds my lips, as if he knew where they were, and presses a gentle kiss to my lips, letting the blanket go in order to bring his hand into my hair.

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newfallstrangeleaves · 8 months

Text

Yandere in the apocalypse

Strawberries

M!Yandere X GN!reader Warning: stalking, mentions of killing. Summary: Continuation of the nightly visit story. The world has ended but that doesn't stop your yandere to prove (to nobody other than himself) that he can give you anything. He goes out of his way to get you something you want but things don't go as planned. Author's note: It was really nice to see the first part (and my first post) being so well received. Really thank you!!

Never will he be far behind. Always in the shadows watching over you. He truly is your guardian angel, undefeated protector, perfect boyfriend…

Though in a perfect world he would be close to you, show you how good he is to you. But because of the friends of yours most of the time Aaron has to go unnoticed. But the times he does get close, he cherishes.

The weather is nice and Aaron has spent the last 4 hours in a tree. Your group has made the decision to leave the city and head out into the wild. A decision he doesn't exactly agree with, for many reasons. Though your group has decided upon two night watchers now he dont believe for a second they could do a better job than him.

Half of the group has split up from camp and gone out to look for food. You sit together with a girl with dark braids and a blond girl, who looks to be in need of a shower soon. The boy is there too, blissfully unaware of his surroundings and listening in on the conversation.

“I LOVED to eat Moules frits, I could eat a whole bucket of those things.” The blond girl says.

"Oh, you snob!” The braided girl exclaims. “Can you say something normal like a burger?”

“But what is so weird about Moules frits? It's just Oysters and Fries! The blond pouts.

“Wrong! It's Clams not Oysters, you idiot.”

"You seem to know an awful lot about Moles frits, huh? Y/N, who do you think the real posh one is?” The blond looks over at you who throughout this whole conversation has just been smiling at the bickering.

“Donno, seems like a tie, or what do you think Max?” You turn over to the boy who nods eagerly. You and Max exchange a look as the blond one rolls her eyes over dramatically, but the action prones a laugh out of the three of you.

“What foods do you miss, Y/N?” Max asks when the laughing has died down. You think for a moment.

“Well, not the canned potatoes that's for sure, or any other canned foods for that matter. I miss fresh ones, oh I know, I miss Strawberries!” You say. “And actually at this point I would be happy to have any shape, dried or fresh doesn't matter.”

“Me too.” A voice from the bushes makes everyone jump.

Even Aaron is about to fall out of the tree. But when the other half of the group returns he swears over himself over the lack of awareness. But the conversation had made him think. If his love wants strawberries then she shall have strawberries.

When night comes he sneaks down from his hideout. A week ago they passed a small community, odd people and overly religious. They had only really gotten a picture of them though three men who were out looking for a friend of theirs. The men had invited them back to their community but luckily your group had declined the offer. Good thing your group had caught their off vibes too and decided not to risk it. But when the both of your groups had parted ways and one of the men decided to turn back to you, Aaron felt nothing good would come with a second encounter. So the man was killed and buried before sunrise. By then the group was up and away.

But the men at the time had mentioned a garden filled with vegetables and fruits. Perhaps a tactic to lure you into their claws. But right now it's his best bet in finding Strawberries.

Traveling alone ment moving at a much quicker pace. Perhaps he will be back to you in less than a week!

When he arrives he realizes the men weren't lying. If something they were playing it down by a lot. Aaron could see “the garden” from a mile away by the size of it. The only problem he is facing now is getting in. It is surrounded by a huge fence, barbed wires, then on top of that they have built six hunting towers to guard from any intruders.

He decides to wait until night time and while doing so he can feel his eyes grow heavier.

He wakes up (all stiff from sleeping in a tree) to the luck of a lifetime. Rockets are firing from the other side of the garden, somebody else is planning to break in too. He brings his handy pocket knife and while the guard's attention is elsewhere he takes the opportunity to run straight for one of the hunting towers.

He just needs a little bit of luck to not be spotted now. Despite having two hunting towers at each side of him that could easily spot him he hopes their attention stays on the forest for intruders.

The darkness hides him long enough to cut through the fence. His pocket knife pliers are weak, it takes time to cut through the fence. But not impossible.

As he works up a hole big enough for him to fit through he can hear the guards discussing, the weak attack was quickly disarmed. But Aaron can sense them being on edge for anything else to happen.

When he is through it's in and out. Their attention is not on the plantation but he still tries to hide amongst the greenery. It doesn't take long before he finds the red little berries. There are rows upon rows of them. They won't miss a few. When he is done collecting and placing the container back in his backpack, he turns to make his way out again.

Just as he feels confident he is going to make it without getting spotted he gets just that. Spotted. He crawls through his hole as bullets start raining around him. His only option is to run and find shelter amongst the trees. He sprints as fast as he can, the trees approaching quickly. Just a few more steps.

Then he feels one of the bullets hitting its target, a sharp pain shoots through his thigh. He lets out a cry of pain but with the adrenaline pumping his veins he doesn't stop.

He pushes further and further through the forest even though he is not as fast as he would have liked, the people deciding to go after him seems to have given up the chase. Their voices grow more and more distant by the second.

The following days are hard. He has to stop multiple times to not strain his wound too much. Worry starts to grow more and more each day. As he is slowing down you are walking further and further away. The fear something would have happened to you while he was away grows stronger by the day.

When the pain in his leg is unbearable as he is fighting to keep up a good pace he wishes he never left you. What if something has happened to you while he was gone? Why didn't he consider this before he left? How stupid he feels.

He lets out a sigh of relief when he reaches a small lake and in the distance he can see your figure walking out in the water with your pants rolled up. So peaceful. Finally he can allow himself to rest and to heal.

Mission accomplished too. He feels pride grow in his chest as he watches you. He can give you something nobody else can. He can't wait for your reaction. A smile only he could give you.

The next morning you wake up and the first thing you see is a small package with a note attached to it.

“Whatcha got there?” Ginny asks as she frantically tries to brush through her blond curls with her fingers.

“I don't know. Was here when I woke up.” You turn over the note and read what it says out loud.

‘Got these for you.

Until we meet, A.’

“A? There is no one here who starts with A.” Ginny says loudly. A ruckus begins amongst the ones that are awake. Their discussion is loud enough to wake up the rest.

“What do I do with these?” You ask.

“Leave them, it's not worth the risk.” Felice says and pulls her braids out from the shirt she just put on. “Come, you go with me from now on.”

Aaron limps over to the spot you sat at as he is fighting tears. The anger and disappointment bubbling up in his chest. He wishes he could kill them, hurt them as they have hurt him.

But all he does is pick up the berries.

He knows revenge will come in due time.

#yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere x you #tw stalking #post apocalyptic #yandere x y/n

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jxckchxmpi0n · 2 months

Note

"You can't keep pretending it didn't happen, cause guess what? it did!" prompt w/ ethan please 😁🙏

Stop Lying

Ethan Landry x Reader |m.list

summary: going to a frat party to celebrate surviving finals end up turning into a night of things you would never forget.

warnings: drinking, drugs (weed), cursing, kissing, fluff, angst,

word count: 2.8k

did not proofread.

I never know how to end stories.

It was the end of the second term. Your first year was basically over, you just had another ten weeks, and the summer was here. So, to celebrate you and the group thought it would be a good idea to go to one of the frat parties. Everyone was down to go except you and Ethan, who have been known as the nerds in the group.

You love school but you also love to party. You tell yourself that you only party during the summer, once school starts you have to "lock in" as Chad liked to call it. But after these last finals you thought that one party won't hurt.

It was already about eight pm when Chad and Ethan came walking into Tara's apartment. Sam was out with Danny, and Mindy and Anika were just going to pre-game with you guys and stay home. So, in the end it was only you Tara, Chad, and Ethan.

Ethan wasn't much of a drinker, so he didn't drink much before the party. You and Tara took about two shots. Chad had also decided to wait till the party just in case.

As the boys were waiting in the living room for you two Tara giggled to herself as she pulled out her makeup. "You know Ethan likes you right?" she set her bag on the desk opened it and reached for her eyeliner. You told her earlier that day that she could do whatever she'd like for your makeup.

"No, he doesn't, trust me he just sees me as a friend." you lightly shook your head as she reached for your chin to hold your face while she put on the eyeliner.

After about hour you guys were finally ready, the boys had also changed. Ethan was just in some slasher t-shirt and jeans while Chad was in a football hoodie.

Chad was the first to speak when he saw you both. "Whoa my god you two look stunning" he smiled at you while he leaned down to kiss Tara on the cheek. Ethan stood there looking at you like a fool. You didn't see how his mouth hung slightly open, and you definitely couldn't see how his hands were sweating.

"Yeah you- you guys look great." as he stumbled over his words Tara eyed him and watched how his eyes never left you.

"Well let's get going" Chad grabbed Tara's hand and made their way to the door, as you and Ethan followed them.

As you entered the house, a wave of alcohol and weed flooded your nose. You could already feel your hangover before you even drank. Tara grabbed your hand, dragging you to the kitchen. The boys followed close behind, you could hear their voices lightly, hearing both your name and Tara's.

Chad broke away from the three of you as he went to catch up with his frat friends. Tara also ended up leaving both you and Ethan. You stood in the corner with the shy boy, your drink, half empty. Looking over, you saw his was still full. "Come one, Ethan, let loose. You finished your finals. " You leaned into him so he could hear you, your breath tickling his ear. The light smell of gum and alcohol lingered on your breath.

"I just don't think I like drinking around these many people." he looked around and saw people dancing, drinking, smoking, all of the things you could imagine. You noticed the nervous look on his face, how he picked at the ring that hugged his middle finger.

You decided to lace your fingers with his empty hand, leaning in again. You said, "Well, we can go outside, get fresh air, and be alone?" Your voice was reassuring to him. He could feel his heartbeat traveling a million miles faster than before. Not trusting his voice, he just nodded.

As he followed close behind you, he could hear the party getting smaller. Realizing he was in the backyard with you, very few were out here. Just a few people here and there, mainly smoking and or making out.

As you sat down in the grass, you let go of Ethan's hand. Part of him wished for it back. It was comforting, as he sat down next to you he saw you were watching him. "What?" He felt his cheeks warm up. He felt his stomach flutter as you smiled at him.

"Nothing, just admiring you." You smiled and then looked away once you realized what you said. Trying to cover yourself, you quickly asked him a question, "So how do you think you did on the finals?"

His eyes met yours, his lips turned up as he saw the soft smirk on your face. "I think I did pretty good, I'm not doubting myself, but I'm also not puffing my chest out." You light laughed at his comment.

"What about you? How did you do?" He took a sip of his drink forgetting its alcohol, a sour look took his face as he spit it back in the cup.

You couldn't help but laugh as he tried to brush the taste off tongue. "It was fine," breaking every few words with your laugh. "I um- I don't think I passed them all, but I tried, so that's all that matters" taking the last sip of your drink.

The sour and burning sensation ran down your throat. "I'm sure you did great. You always do. " he looked down at you with a soft smile. You could never get over that smile. And how brown his eyes were, but in the night light, they looked black, and even then, you could still feel the warmth of them.

Setting your cup on the ground caused goosebumps to trail your body, making you shiver. "Are you cold?" Ethan watched you as you ran your arms up and down your legs.

"Ha no," he could see through you. Without thinking about he moved closer, wrapping his arm around your body.

Your body went stiff just for a moment, but once you felt him against you, it was like you melted. It felt so perfect.

As you sat there, you could feel him staring at you. Taking your head off his shoulder, you looked up, "can I help you? Your voice was soft and airy, not wanting to sound aggressive.

"Nothing, I just like looking." he looked between both your eyes, and then your lips.

"There's nothing much to look at," your tone changed duller than before, as if you were doubting him.

"That's not true," his other hand put his drink down then went to your cheek. He pushed a piece of hair out of the way, then rested him thumb on your cheek.

Part of you was living every moment of this, and the other was begging to leave. You watched his eyes as they looked at your again, then your lips. As you looked in his eyes, you saw what he wanted, the question in his eyes begging.

You couldn't deny it. You were begging as well, your eyes saying the same thing back to him, and without realizing it, your head shook up and down.

All he needed was that nod. Leaning in, you leaned in as well, your lips meeting. He was shy, not moving his lips of a moment. And it's like it clicked. Slowly, they moved, and as yours moved with his, he grew confident.

His hand cupping your face as yours goes to his hair. Those brown curly you loved so much, it's everything you ever wanted. The kiss started to get heated as you felt both yours and his breath hitch, your fingers softly pulling his curls, causing a groan to escape from his mouth.

The burning sensation in your lungs, begging for air. You didn't want to pull away, but you had to. Slowly, you dropped your hand, Ethan understood what you were doing so slowly his slowed his lips, still breaking the kiss but peppering your lips.

And as he opened his eyes, a voice rang through the backyard. "Ethan! Oh, shit there you're. " Without thinking, he jumped away from you, standing up as he heard his name.

Chad stood by the back door, drunk out of his mind. Tara behind him as he tried to get his roommates attention.

"A little help here?!" Tara's voice sounded raspy and distressed. Before you could process anything that just happened, you ran to help her.

"I think it's time to go." Tara herself was stumbling. Ethan took Chad as you helped Tara. You made your way to the car slowly but surely. Getting the couple into the car and getting them comfortable a job.

Chad kept wanting to run away, Tara just sat there, making fun of Chad. As Ethan decided he should drive, you sat in the back with the others to make sure they tried anything stupid.

Which left you unavailable to talk to Ethan about what had happened. Your thoughts swimming with questions wondering why he was so quick to leave, was he embarrassed? Did he not want to be seen with me?

And before you knew it, the night got away from you both. Taking care of Tara and Chad left you both exhausted, and then after you avoided him.

For a week, you didn't go over. You didn't see the group or anything. Ethan was confused because he thought the kiss was good, but as another week went by, he became angry. He didn't understand why, maybe it was at himself or you, but he hated that he could be mad at you.

You now just felt mad, not at yourself but at Ethan. Why make such a move then go and leave you like that? It caused you so much pain, everyone could see that. Everyone knew something was up, with both you and Ethan. You disappeared, and now all of a sudden, he's letting Chad pick the horror movies.

Something happened at that party, and they were both determined to figure it out. Tara went to your apartment to ask you questions, and without saying anything you told her everything, as did Ethan to Chad.

They both knew they needed to get you guys in the same room to talk it over, but how?

They had decided to lie to you and Ethan, Tara had told you Ethan was busy studying so he wouldn't be at the hangout tonight. And Chad had told Ethan that you were picking up an extra shift which made him sad rather than relieved.

As everyone started to show up, Ethan sat on the couch minding his business when he heard the door open. "Ahh, there she is!" Mindy's voice rang through the apartment, she was the first one to see you walk in.

As you said you said hello to everyone you noticed brown curly hair, Ethan had gotten up when he realized you were here. His heartbeat racing like it did that night.

Your face dropped its expression when your eyes locked with his, your heart screaming at him, the nervous sweat taking over your body. Your eyes glanced at Tara; she held a soft 'sorry' smile.

"Hey, Y/n" his voice was soft and light. Everyone had already moved on seeing the tension between you and him.

"Hey, Ethan" You didn't want to sound too mean, but you couldn't help the harsh tone in your voice.

"I was wondering if we could talk for a moment?" his hand came to rest under your arm. His eyes had a begging light to them.

"You know uh, Ethan maybe not right now. There's nothing to really talk about" As you spoke you could feel the tension grow thicker, your body wince as you saw the look in his eyes.

Ethan felt his heart shatter as you spoke, how your voice was cold.

"What do you mean? I haven't seen you in two weeks, since the party and I just wanted-" he was rushing through his words, scared as to what you were going to say.

"Ethan, look there's nothing to talk about. At least not right now, I just want to hang out with our friends" You dropped your arm from his hand, turning your body you made your way to the living room with the others.

Ethan stood there in anger; he didn't understand why you were acting like this. All he wanted was to tell you how he felt and how that night at the party changed him. All he wanted was to be with you, to have you in his arms again.

He watched you sit right next to Mindy and Anika which was the last straw. He walked over to you, hovering over you as you talked to Mindy, leaning down he grabbed your hand pulling you up.

"Ethan what the fuck" Everyone noticed his actions; Anika was about to stop him when she felt Mindy's hand on her leg.

"Shut up." his voice was harsh and angry. As he pulled you up to your feet, he then dragged you to the closest room.

The others just sat there watching you two run into the room. the door slammed, making an echo through the apartment. Giving each other all a look, they then hit play on the movie and turned up the volume.

"Jesus Ethan, what the fuck is your problem?" you ripped your hand from his grasp.

"What's my problem? mine? What's yours? we kissed at that party, and now you can't even stand to be around me. I don't understand. " His voice was rising, and all the emotions he was feeling were coming out.

"Look, Ethan, we were drinking -" your hand dragged over your face as you tried to come up with different excuses.

"That's bullshit! Y/n, you weren't even drunk! I wasn't even drunk!" He was throwing his hands around as he yelled.

"Ethan it's- I don't know what you want me to say!"

"I want to stop pretending like it didn't happen! Because guess what it did! And I don't know if it meant anything to you, but it meant everything to me! Y/n I love you, and I have for a while, and seeing you avoid me like this hurts me, " he stood next to you as close as he could. His voice trembled as he realized he confessed to you.

"Then why did you stand up like that? Why did you leave me so quickly when Chad came outside? If anything, Ethan, you hurt me! And fuck, it was everything to me but when you got up and rushed away I was worried it was all in my head!" Your voice was loud at the beginning, but then soften once you processed that Ethan had said he loved you.

He could help but bite his lip as he heard your words. His heart hurt as he realized he hurt you. Walking close to you, he looked between your eyes, taking a deep breath. As softly as possible, he spoke, "I didn't mean to hurt you. That's the last thing I want. And what I want is for you to talk to me because Jesus y/n you have me wrapped around your finger"

You smiled at his words, creating a little pain in your cheeks as they hurt from the smile, but it was all worth it.

You couldn't express what was going through your mind, but there was one thing that you knew you coukd do, and that was to kiss him.

Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him down to you, and your lips met his. All those emotions from the other night ran through your body again. The feeling of his dry yet soft lips drove you insane, Ethan didn't waste a second. His hand flew to your cheek, cupping your face. Slow, moving down to hold your throat, his other hand went to you wasit to pull your body flush against his.

Your other hand that wasn't tangled into his shirt was face slowly running to his hair. Your lungs burnt in the best way.

Breaking away, you looked at him, your eyes pleading a little. "I'm sorry. For ignoring you and not telling you how I felt, " your eyes trailed down to the floor, not wanting to face him fully.

His hand ducked under your chin, pulling your face up. "I don't want you to be sorry, ever." With that, he leaned down again, kissing you softly.

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream vi #jack champion x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #spider avatar #jack champion imagine #ethan landry smut #ghost face x reader #avatar spider #spiderman ethan landry #jack champion is all i think about #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water

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pedgito · 2 years

Text

alone, in my mind ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x afab!reader.

summary: so what if eddie munson had a really pretty face, it was just too good not to admire. so what if you liked to draw him in your free time, he definitely didn't mind. yet somehow, tutoring him still felt like the most scandalous thing you've ever done.

cw: 18+ content (minors, shoo!) afab!reader, virgin!reader, graphic smut (including p in v, oral, fingering, and all that jazz), orgasms, this is v dirty i'm sorry.

word count: almost 14k! don't judge me pls, i've been sitting on this for a few weeks.

prompt requests are always open!

alternate ao3 link

There was something therapeutic about sitting alone during lunch, watching chaos take place in front of you; from kids running around the cafeteria, traveling from table to table, conversing among themselves, yelling to each other from across the room, even standing up on tables like a stage and yelling out to the entire high school class. Eddie Munson was an enigma. You couldn’t figure him out. Other than him dealing you weed under the table and the occasional class you had with him, you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to him at one time.

So, he might find it slightly weird that you’ve drawn him in your sketchbook more than a few times. You couldn’t help it, that hair was just too glorious not to draw. But to be fair, you’ve drawn up a lot of the other students without speaking to them. A lot of it was pure observation—a student focused on a book they were reading, a group of the cheerleaders circled up and giggling among themselves, Jason Carver pictured in his actual form, the true evil of Hawkins. Sometimes you liked to draw devil horns on him for fun. No harm, no foul, you didn’t actually mean anything by it—you just hated how much he bolstered himself up at school, despite still paying you to write for his English homework. But hey, you gotta hustle where you can. He left you alone for the most part, anyways.

Once the bell rang and the last few stragglers were leaving the lunch room, you finally gathered your own things. Shoving the last minute homework into your bag and clutching the sketchbook to your chest, you leisurely walked your way to the exit. The sound of your pencil clanging to the floor beneath you had you pausing in your tracks.

Part of you just wanted to leave it, you had enough in your bag that it wouldn’t really matter anyways.

“Hey, this yours?” The voice asked.

You turned slowly, scanning the floor, stopping on the dirtied-up white sneakers that squeaked against the floor as they turned toward you. Of course it has to be Eddie.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You said softly, reaching forward to grab the pencil from him. The silence was apparent now, only the two of you left in the cafeteria.

“No problem.” He laughs slightly, “Oh hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” He leans in, lowering his voice—not that it really mattered since it was only you two, “I got a couple new strains in, if you want to meet up at the usual spot.”

Against your own rational thinking, your mouth spoke before your brain could process. “Sure.” You hadn’t even smoked the last bit of weed he’d sold to you yet.

He smiled, leaving wordlessly.

Sometimes it felt like life was happening around you and you weren’t even present, your body just did and said what it wanted.

“Oh, you fucking idiot.” You spoke to yourself.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Four o’clock. The woods just west of Hawkins High. Picnic table. That’s how you’d set up your meetings from the start. And of course, you were always right on time. Eddie however, he’d get here eventually. At least you hoped. Your shift at the Family Video started in a half hour and not that Keith would even take the chance to fire you, you just hated the idea of being late.

“Come on, Munson.” You grumble to yourself, checking the watch around your wrist. You sigh, sitting your bag on the table to grab your sketchbook, scribbling down a rough version of the wide expanse of trees in front of you.

“I’m late, I know.” A voice startles you from behind. The scream that leaves your mouth is involuntary, but you quickly cover it in an attempt to compose yourself.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie.” You tell him, pulling your hand from your mouth. “You can’t sneak up on people like that!”

“You okay?” He asks, chuckling lightheartedly. The question was genuine, though. The way his eyes connected with yours assured you of so.

“Sure, one tiny heart attack later.” You reply sarcastically.

“Hey, I was loud as fuck walking up.” Eddie says like he's trying to prove it to himself, pointing behind himself briefly. “You completely forget other things exist when you shove your head into that thing.”

You glance down at your book before promptly snapping it shut. “Shut up.” You say, no real bite behind it.

He threw his hands up in defeat. “Hey, just a harmless observation.” Not that you were bothered by him observing, but the fact that he had—it was surprising. He only ever talked about two things, Hellfire Club and D&D, which went hand in hand. But so much so, that he was almost hyper fixated on it.

“Anyways,” you say, shifting the subject. “I’ve got work in thirty—well, about twenty now,”

“Yadda, yadda, yeah—make it quick, I know.” He grins, placing his small chest of goodies on the table. You roll your eyes in annoyance, even if you weren’t really that annoyed in the first place. He slaps two baggies on the table, presenting them like prized possessions.

“Colombian Gold, Northern Lights.” He says, pointing them out individually. “Pick your poison.”

You tilted your head, deciding on which sounded better. Eddie interjects thoughtfully, “Personally, I’m a fan of that sweet, sweet Colombian Gold.”

You laugh quietly, nodding in agreement. “Fine then.”

“Twenty for the ounce.” He says, shoving the leftovers back into the metal chest.

You swing your bag around to dig for the pocket change, shoving your hand inside to grab for your wallet. But, there’s nothing there. Not the familiar chain or zipper that sticks out, nothing.

“Shit, shit.” You say suddenly, beginning to panic. You close your eyes shut, trying to retrace your steps. But it dawns on you, your wallet is probably sitting on your bedside shelf where you left it the night prior, coming back from your late night run to the store after leaving work. “I think I left my wallet at home.”

Eddie ponders for a moment, then shrugs. “Get me when you can, I know you’re good for it.”

You hated the idea of not paying him the money you owed, “I swear I’ll pay today. I can meet up with you after I get out of work or—“

Eddie snorts, walking forward and grabbing a pen that had fallen out of my bag during my wild search. He opens my palm, holding it firmly. He pulls off the cap of the pen, holding it between his teeth as he scribbles something on my hand.

You inspect it closely. It was an address. Eddie caps the pen and hands it back to you. “Can you stop there after work?”

You were apprehensive for a moment, but figured there couldn’t be much harm in it. “Yeah, I can try. I don’t get out until nine, though.”

“Works for me.” He tells you, shoving his hand in his back pocket to adjust the black handkerchief that was shoved in haphazardly. You snorted softly, shoving your things back into your bag as quickly as you could.

“Okay, well—I’ll see you then, I guess—“ You swung back around, coming directly in contact with Eddie’s chest, who hadn’t moved from his spot. Why hadn’t he moved? More importantly, why was he reaching down?

Fuck. You looked down to notice some of the papers from your sketchbook had sprawled out on the ground. You scrambled to gather the drawings back into the pocket of the book, hoping you could avoid another awkward encounter with Eddie today.

But, as luck would have it—“Damn, these are good.” Eddie says suddenly, holding up one drawing in particular, an offhand drawing off Steve while you had some downtime at work.

“Make sure you do my hair justice.” He’d told you. You laughed and smacked him in the back of the head softly.

“Is that Harrington?” He asks.

“…yeah.” You answer, trying not to die of embarrassment.

He glances at you, noticing your discomfort. “Shit, I’m sorry. Here.” Eddie hands the paper over, realizing he may have overstepped.

“Thanks.” You answer, taking the paper from his hand.

“Oh, hey-“ He interrupts, reaching down to grab another page that had fallen under the picnic table seat. “You forgot,” He pauses, looking at it closely, “one.” His voice is soft, thoughtful.

You curse inwardly, trying not to physically facepalm yourself.

“Is that me?” He asks, the smallest smile forming in his face. “Well, at least—-the back of me?”

You stutter for words, your brain suddenly lacking the English language entirely.

“Does my hair really look like that from the back?” He asks playfully, head tilted in curiosity.

“Ms. McNally’s class gets really boring.” You tell him, snatching the paper back. “Like, really boring.”

But no, his head definitely looked like that from the back, despite the unruly curls in his hair, there wasn’t a piece out of place.

“Glad to know the back of my head gives you some entertainment then.” It’s a lame attempt to lighten the mood, but it works. Your thankful his immediate reaction isn’t to find it odd or make fun of you, he almost seemed amused.

“Here.” He finally hands the page over. “No more peeking, I swear.”

You place the page back into your sketchbook carefully. Looking up, Eddie’s still standing there, though looking around aimlessly.

“Eddie, what are you still doing here?” You ask.

“Got another deal going on soon.” He tells you. “Top secret.” And if the wink didn’t make you blush, it was the grin that spread over his features, you shook your head and laughed it off.

“See you at nine, Munson.” You tell him, backpack slung over your right shoulder.

“Can’t wait.” He says playfully.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your bike squealed to a stop outside of Family Video, nearly burning rubber. Clocking in with thirty seconds to spare, you breath a sigh of relief.

“What’s got you riled up?” Steve asks, organizing the Horror section of movies from a few feet away.

“Nothing.” You grumble, setting your bag down and throwing the god awful work vest over your sweater.

“You just missed Keith, by the way.” He adds, shooting you a knowing but amused look.

“Thank god.” Keith had a small obsession with you, not that you were creeped out about it. He was just so hopelessly in love with you, which blinded his ability to see that you had no interest in returning the sentiment. “That’s the last thing I need.”

“It’s the undeniable charm you’ve got.” Steve jokes, shrugging casually. “The ladies and gents love it—right, Robin?”

Like a jack in the box, Robin pops up from where she’s squatted behind the counter.

“Stop teasing her.” Robin warms, throwing a VHS case at Steve’s head. It promptly smacks him in the forehead.

“Ow, what the hell?” Steve shouts, fingers touching his forehead for any sign of injury. Not that there would be any, Robin had barely hit him in the process and Steve was kind of dramatizing things. You’d still consider it one of his more positive traits, even if it did serve as more entertainment to you and Robin than anything.

“No, he’s right.” You play along. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

There’s a beat of silence and then you finally speak up.

“What do you guys make of Eddie Munson?” You asked, grabbing the stack of returned rentals to be checked through.

“The dude who’s been held back twice? Doesn’t he have that weird after school group thing he does?” Steve asks, looking between you and Robin.

“Yes.” You nod. “It’s a D&D club, Steve. Not a cult.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly. “He always seemed off to me.”

“Yeah and you were prancing around with Tommy and Carol most of junior year.” You reminded him. “Don’t you remember when Tommy hit me on my bike with his car during Spring Break? During that giant party he had at his house?”

Steve immediately looked regretful at judging Eddie.

“Thank god you found Robin.” You tell him, trying to make Steve feel less guilty about it all. Tommy had always been jealous of Steve, but Carol and her constant snarky remarks always egged Tommy on.

“Yeah!” Steve cheers, reaching over to high five Robin. She scoffs in annoyance, leave Steve’s unanswered high five hanging in the air.

“We both love chicks and boobies, it works out great.” Steve adds, returning hand to his side.

“He’s still learning.” Robin says quietly, leaning over toward you. “Why are you asking about Eddie anyways? Doesn’t he deal weed to the students?”

You shot Robin a knowing look.

“Oh. Oh.” She catches on. “Well, did something happen between you two?”

“No. Nothing, really. I just have to meet up with him after work and was wondering if I should be worried.” Robin didn’t seem to question as to why you would need to meet up with, which made you grateful.

“He doesn’t seem like that type of guy. Not to me, at least.” Robin assures, lowering her voice as the entrance bell jingled, signaling a customer. “But, you could always take your pocket knife with you.”

Your mouth dropped open at the suggestion, but to be fair, Robin just wanted to make sure you felt safe.

“Yeah—murder first, ask questions later.” You retort playfully.

“You’ve been watching too many scary movies with Steve.” Robin tells you.

“Hey, don’t knock ‘em til you try ‘em!” Steve says, greeting the customer as they walk by.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

You locked up for the night as soon as you could, making the short trek to your bike behind the back of the Family Video store. You pulled the small piece of paper you had scribbled on earlier, the address Eddie had left earlier started to smudge about an hour into your shift and you didn’t want to take any chances that it could last. And luckily, your mother had dropped your wallet off in the process of making her way to work that night, which was a lifesaver. The idea of biking home and then to Eddie’s made your legs hurt at the very possibility.

It was a ten minute bike ride away from the store, leading you down a long road that led to a dimly lit trailer park. The uneasiness set in immediately.

As if on cue, one of the poorly lit lamps sprinkled throughout the residence flickered a couple times before going out completely.

“Great. This is how I die.” You say to yourself, double checking the number on the paper so it matched with the trailer you were riding up to.

Everything seemed normal, the lights were on inside. Aside from the totally barren mobile home and Eddie’s truck parked in the driveway, nothing felt too grim about the whole situation. Normally, you’d be in a rush to get home and relax, but you knew your parents didn’t care one way or another, as long as you came home in one piece.

You sighed, stepping off and leaning your bike against the deck. If it wasn’t for the muffled music playing inside the trailer, you would assume whoever was there had left but forgot to turn their lights off. You reach forward to knock tentatively on the flimsy screen door.

There’s a rustling from the back of the home, the sudden silence of music being turned off, then a twisting of the doorknob as the door creaked open.

“Well, well, well.” Eddie says, grinning at you through the screen door. “I didn’t think you’d ever show.”

“It’s only five after nine, Eddie.” You tell him, reaching around into your bag to make things quick.

“It was just a—nevermind,” He mumbles quietly to himself, “Whatcha got for me, princess?”

You curled your head to the side subtly, but didn’t think anything of the harmless and playful endearment. Save it, bookmark it, stow it away for later. You slide him the twenty, he eyes it for a moment. “You know,” he begins, arm resting against the trim of the door, “I’d take that drawing of me over the twenty if you’re willing to fork it over.”

“Are you serious?” You ask, hand frozen in place from where Eddie was hanging onto the bill.

“Deadly.” He tells you, tongue smoothing over the teeth that showed through his grin.

You debated, not sure why he was so interested in the first place.

“Why don’t you want the money?” You ask.

“You’ve bought enough from me, I think that warrants a little discount.” He shrugs, like it wasn’t a big deal at all.

“You’re so weird, Munson.” You reply, pulling out the sketchbook and handing the drawing over.

“Got anymore?” He asks jokingly, albeit a little curious.

“I’ll let that remain a mystery, thank you.” You tell him, snapping the book closed. He holds the drawing up to the light, watching him scan over it admiringly.

“It’s really good, you know. You probably draw a lot of kids at school, don’t you?” He asks and you’re not sure where his sudden interest in conversation with you is coming from. Both of you didn’t interact outside of deals—this reality almost didn’t feel tangible.

“Sometimes.” You answer skeptically, “Not all the time, though.”

“We’ll, I’m honored.” He says, noting one of the small details in the background. “Did you make Ms. McNally resembles a hobbit on purpose?”

You snorted at that. It was something, in hindsight, that you’d completely forgotten about. “She was really pissing me off that day.”

“Nice.” He laughs to himself, finally setting the drawing down on a table out of view. “Anyways, don’t worry about the twenty. You’re covered.”

“You really don’t have to do that, Eddie. I can pay.” You felt guilty at the thought, but Eddie seemed pretty serious about the whole ordeal.

“Nope. We’re good.” He tells you, flashing you his trademark smile. He still hadn’t changed his school earlier, brandishing his Hellfire Club tee proudly.

“Okay,” You draw out, dragging the last letter a bit. “Well, I’ll see you at school tomorrow then.”

“Aye, aye.” He replied in mock salute, coming to stand at attention.

You couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the act, it was undeniably goofy, but adorable in its own right. He shut the door slowly, waving you a sweet goodbye as he finally disappeared.

And despite all efforts, there was one giant fucking elephant in the room that you couldn’t ignore–because not only was Eddie devastatingly beautiful, he was charming as hell, which was something you had overlooked for far too long.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Stupid. Fucking. Lockers.” You grumble to yourself, slamming the locker shut with every word. It was as if the world was setting you up for the shittiest day possible. It started with you sleeping through your alarm, burning the toast you’d made for breakfast, and somehow managing to spill orange juice all over your jeans in the small span of an hour–so not only were you on your second pair of jeans, you were ready to slam your head against the locker in defeat, ready to be put out of this complete, utter misery that had been your Friday morning.

“Woah, woah.” The voice carried down the hall, you peeked behind you.

Eddie Munson was heading right for you. You turned and sighed, slamming the locker again for good measure.

“Lucky for you, I’ve got just the touch.” Eddie assures you, wiggling his fingers in your face.

You tried to ignore every flipping feeling in your stomach at the sight of it.

It took him a second, but he swiftly lifted the locker door in a quick motion and slammed it close, that time for good. He’s smiling down at you–again, with that annoying, shit-eating grin.

“No. Don’t even start.” You tell him, finger pointing accusingly. “My morning has been horrible. I don’t need jokes, right now.”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to walk to English together?” He replied, looking slightly defeated. “If that’s okay?”

“Oh.” You frowned. It still didn’t feel right to be conversing in front of your peers, like it was almost illegal. “I mean, I don’t see why not. But, Eddie–”

“Yep?” He asks, turning on his heels. You both had English together, which most of the time, was spent staring directly at the back of his head because you couldn’t be bothered to listen to Ms. McNally’s grating voice for more than a few minutes at a time.

“Why are you talking to me?” You ask, genuine and honest. There had never been any reason not to before, but why now?

“You seemed a little scary–well, not scary, scary–but like, she could definitely break my fingers if I said the wrong thing to her–that type of scary.” He explains in one breath, fiddling with the rings on his right hand.

Fair enough, considering the pocket knife you did carry in your bag for instances like that. There were too many assholes and you had plenty of ways to deal with them.

“Ah.” You replied, as if it all made sense. “Well, the jury's still out.”

“I’ll try and remember that.” He tells you, laughing slightly. “I also just wasn’t sure you liked talking to anyone from school–I mean I get that, but I just wanted to make sure you knew that you don’t have to sit alone at lunch like you do–”

“I don’t mind it–” You interject.

“I know. I’m just saying. Our table wouldn’t mind. The guys usually don’t know how to talk to girls, so most of them don’t say anything anyways.” He assures you.

The friendliness caught you off-guard. It seemed genuine, but you were also waiting for the catch.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

The teacher slaps the graded test onto your desk, brandishing a bright red A. You quickly shove it under your textbook, glancing up as you hear the rustling of Eddie swiveling around to face you from his seat.

“All good?” You ask, mostly in an attempt to be friendly. But, you can’t help but notice the giant circled F on his paper. You’d heard lots of stories about Eddie and his inability to pass, being held back, and every lousy nickname that came along with that. People liked to pick on Eddie because he was different, he didn’t fit in with anyone at Hawkins, and while you might be able to get away with slipping under the radar–Eddie couldn’t.

“I could tutor you, you know.” You suggest, instantly regretting the words the moment they leave your mouth.

“Seriously?” He asks, looking caught off guard. “I appreciate it but–”

“Seriously.” You say, “English is my best subject and as long as you put in the same effort I am, I could at least get you up to a C.” In for a penny, in for a pound…I guess.

“That’s–yeah, that’s cool. I’m kinda busy with Hellfire most days though–” He starts, rolling the paper up in his hands. It was a small detail, but you noticed how often he used his hands when he liked to fidget, whether it be his rings or a poor piece of paper being strangled to death.

“Weekends are good.” You assure him. “I work a lot during that week so I wouldn’t have time anyways.”

Eddie nods slowly. He seemed apprehensive, like he didn’t really deserve the help you were offering. His jaw was clenched, eyes downcast.

“Eddie, I don’t mind.” You told him, offering a small smile to ease whatever worry he was feeling. “It's just–we’ll have to study at your place though, not mine.”

You didn’t even want to begin to explain the ordeal to your parents, as understanding as they may be–any site of a boy and your parents would be seething at the idea.

“My uncle is gone most of the time, so I guess that works out.” He shrugs.

The sound of the teacher clearing her throat from a few rows over interrupts you both. You roll your eyes inconspicuously, turning in your chair.

Eddie taps your leg softly, having already turned around in his chair. You look underneath the desk to find a small piece of paper between his thumb and middle finger. Prying it from his fingers.

You unfold it quietly, fingers smoothing over the creases in the paper. 'Tmrw at 4?' It read it dark blue ink. His handwriting wasn’t as messy as you expected, you quickly scribbles a ‘Yep :)’ adding the smiley face for fun. Maybe this was a good thing, you could make it a good thing. Helping someone bump their grade and maybe make a friend in the process—what’s the worst thing that could happen?

You slid the paper over his shoulder, ignoring the way his fingertips brushed against yours. You didn’t see him unfold the paper, but the way his shoulder shook with silent laughter was a good sign. He pocketed the paper for safekeeping.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, but what you couldn’t see was the same smile that Eddie shared with you.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

The cafeteria was already packed by the time you had arrived, the hustle and bustle of kids grabbing their food and chit chatting like it was musical chairs was enough to drive you insane. You quickly ducked your head, attempting to make your way to your usual spot in the corner of the lunch room.

The hand that grabs your wrist stops you in your tracks. There’s a moment where you’re ready to swing back in retaliation.

“Hey, want to sit with us?” He asks. He was really starting to throw you off.

The idea of going from speaking in short, clipped—and sometimes one word answers, to full fledged conversations was not something you were used to. The only two people you talked to that much, outside of your parents, was Robin and Steve. And maybe Steve was a cop out, you two practically grew up together, toppling over each other as babies.

“Uh, I don’t know—“ You begin, but the bellowing, boisterous voice of Dustin Henderson overpowers your own.

“Steve graduated already, you gotta make new friends eventually.”

That little fucking twerp. Him and Steve together in one place was a nightmare.

“I will murder you, Henderson. Don’t try me.” You threatened.

“You wouldn’t.” He counters.

“Try me.” You quirk your eyebrow. “Remember what Steve told you about summer of ‘84?”

Your voice was lowered, but it didn’t seem like anyone was paying any attention, aside from the people sitting at Eddie’s table. It was like they had front row tickets to the most talked about movie in town. Dustin’s eyes widened in fear.

“He also told me about that time you two—“ You quickly shoved your hand over his mouth, stopping him from saying what was possibly the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done. He muffled the rest of whatever he was saying into your hand.

“Don’t you dare.” You say seriously, fingers pinching the tip of his ear. His hands fly up, signaling his white flag of defeat.

“You’re so mean sometimes.” He whines, rubbing his tender ear.

“You’ll live, Henderson.” You assure him, bumping him aside with your hip to take a seat.

Eddie had been watching with intrigued amusement the entire time, not sure how well you and Dustin actually knew each other until now. And apparently, it was entirely too much.

“Not gonna eat?” Eddie asks, noticing your lack of a lunch tray.

“I hate big crowds. I usually just wait until everyone sits down.” You say softly, setting your bag on your knees to rest your arms on.

“Here.” Eddie says, sliding his uneaten apple and bag of carrots over like it was a game of poker and he was dividing up his chips. “For now, at least.”

“I’m fine, honestly.” You laugh lightheartedly, but take the fresh fruit and vegetable anyway.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your halfway through lunch when you lock eyes with Jason, who’s practically burning eyes into your skull. He motions toward the door leading to the back of the school, hoping you’d get the signal.

It made him look ridiculous more than anything. You’d already planned to meet up with after lunch earlier on in the week, but Jason never seemed like he was focused on anything other than basketball or Chrissy—which fair, Chrissy was a great girl.

You leave without much of a word, other than a smile and a pat on Dustin’s shoulder, hoping he’d get the message. He knew just as much as Steve did about your arrangement with Jason, considering Dustin and Steve were practically conjoined twins, at this point. He clears his throat, distracting Eddie with something about their meeting tonight so you could sneak away without worry.

When you’re finally outside, Jason is pacing, not nervously, but definitely impatiently. “You got it?” He asks.

You pause, “…Yeah.” You answer him, pulling the midterm paper out of your bag and handing it over, he quickly snatches it away and slides you over the money he promised.

“Jesus, Jason. This isn’t a drug deal. Chill out.” You finally find the courage to say.

“If anyone finds out about this, I could lose my chance at any type of scholarship, you know?” He tells you, and you don’t even want to begin to hear his sob story. His parents could buy his way into any school he wanted, though you appreciated his poor attempt to manage it himself.

“Hmm, well maybe—just maybe, you shouldn’t be asking people to write your papers for you then.” You snark back, zipping your backpack closed aggressively for good measure. “Figure this shit out yourself, Jason. I’ve got work, my own school stuff, and plenty of other shit to worry about. I don’t need you hounding me for a paper that you could finish on your own in a night if you actually took the time.”

“But basketball is my priority.” He tells you, you join in to mock him at the same time.

“Fuck off, Jason.” Enough was enough. Jason was nothing but a problem, even after all the pain and embarrassment he’d put you through a couple years prior. “Ask your perfect, pretty little girlfriend to do the work for you.”

And for once, he finally looked defeated. But, he was smart in not responding. He shoved his way past you, making his way back inside. You don’t remember how the arrangement between you two started initially, or why you fell pity to him after the stunt he pulled a couple years ago—you figured you were more desperate for the money at the time, sacrificing and swallowing your pride in the process. But now? Fuck that.

You could just ditch the rest of the day, which didn’t sound entirely too awful, but it was rash and you didn’t like to act on impulse, which you’d been doing entirely too much of lately.

“Pull it together.” You remind yourself before forcing yourself through the rest of what was already a horrible day.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Steve tagged along to lock up with you tonight, considering you two had plans to hang out tonight and he had picked you up from school that evening as a favor.

“What’s got you so tense?” He asks, swinging his keys around his pointer finger.

“Everything.” You sigh through clenched teeth, outwardly groaning as you take a seat in Steve’s car. “God, my feet are killing me.” You quickly toe your shoes off on the floorboard of his car and curl your legs up criss cross.

“Care to elaborate?” He pushes, backing out of the parking lot to pull out on the main road. “Everything is just like a blanket statement, you know. You know I’m never gonna repeat anything you tell me to anyone, ever.”

“Except Dustin.” You remind him.

“Okay, that was fair game. You told him some embarrassing stuff about me. I couldn’t just stand there and watch.” He laughs, you try to hold back your own laughter but it bubbles out soon after.

“It’s just—the shit with Jason, trying to keep up with school, my parents hounding me all the time, and then I promised Eddie I would help him with English—which, you know how my motor mouth works, once I get an idea it just comes out, it’s impossible to stop it.” And god was that a fucking breath of relief to finally let out.

“You’re still doing Jason’s schoolwork?” He asks, slightly disappointed in you. It was understandable, he hated him just as much as you.

“Only the important stuff. Essays, the higher graded stuff, you know. It’s easy money.” You tell him, but it sounds like a lousy excuse.

“Let’s not forget he embarrassed you in front of the entire basketball team and cheerleaders last year.”

“Which was partly your responsibility, Steve.” You remind him. But, it was so far in the past that you couldn’t be mad at him. Holding a grudge against Steve was like hating your own brother and you couldn’t do it. Your gut was pointing to every possible sign to say no to Jason, but Steve gave you the push you’d needed that night.

“I thought it was genuine. I’m sorry.” Steve tells you, you could see the way he paused, swallowed, thinking back on the memory.

“Anyways. I’m just stressed. Not that I can’t handle it, but Eddie’s been acting unnaturally friendly with me and it’s kind of giving me weird vibes.” You admit, like trusting Eddie was just too good to be true. Not weird in the way that made you want to run in the opposite direction, but the way that made your stomach clench in anticipation—and occasionally your thighs. Eddie had always been attractive, but only from a distance.

“Just keep your guard up, that’s always the best option.” He says honestly. “Not that you don’t already have the personality of a brick wall.”

You promptly hit Steve in the shoulder, watching him yell and reach for the spot where you’d landed the blow. “Ouch!”

“I'm not that boring you pompous ass!” You replied in playful disbelief. Steve slowly pulled into the driveway of his home, gradually letting the car come to a stop.

“Have you ever heard yourself talk?” He asks, voice teasing.

“And I sound like I have the voice of a thousand fucking angels, Harrington.” You assure him, shoving him to the side as you both raced to the front door.

“You mean a thousand fucking gremlins.”

You gasped outwardly, caught entirely off guard by his response. “Steve!”

⋆·˚ ༘ *

You wake up Saturday morning with everything Steve had told you fresh in your mind.

No getting too close. Don’t talk about anything personal. Take the arrangement for what it was. Studying, that was it. You rarely got nervous around boys, but Eddie, you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Which was exactly why your heart was pounding out of your chest as you knocked on his front door. You silently prayed he’d answer the door quickly, the sweltering sun doing nothing to help your pale skin. You pulled your shorts down where they had ridden up on the bike ride here, the unnecessary sweater covering your plain tee proving to be nothing but a giant heat trap.

“Princess.” There it was again, the soft tone in his voice and the teasing smile that painted his face. “Welcome to the Munson residence, once again.”

“I’m dying out here.” You deadpan, hiking your bag up higher over your shoulder.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie fumbles with the door knob, swinging the door open. “Come in.”

You quickly step inside, watching as he closes the door behind you. It wasn’t much cooler, but it was definitely a welcomed change from the heat outside.

“You know, the sweater might be your problem.” He says as he makes his way beside you, leading you toward the back room. “Not that I’m judging, I’m just sure you’d suffer from heatstroke if I left you out there another five minutes.”

“And then I’d come back and haunt the shit out of you.” It was a lame attempt at a joke, but the response from Eddie has you snapping back into defense mode.

“Promise?” Your cheeks burn a dark shade of crimson, which you lamely attempt to hide by turning to dig into your bag and fish out some of your English notes and one of the books the class was currently focusing on.

“I figure we should probably go over the paper from the other day, so I could explain what you got wrong and why, if you don’t mind?” You change the subject entirely, taking a seat on his bed. It smelt like fresh linen, it was made neatly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t that. Even you didn’t take as much time to make your bed that often, at least not as neatly as this. To each their own though—maybe Eddie was a bit of a neat freak, not that you minded.

“Sure.” He agrees, taking a seat on his bed beside you, although a comfortable distance away. You could appreciate him respecting boundaries, even if you could still smell the cologne he was wearing, not that it was distracting…at all.

His interest is genuine as you explain through the test, even if much of it isn’t sticking with him, he’s still asking questions and staying engaged more than you anticipated. Even you were ready for a break after an hour of endless talk of metaphors in literature and the re-explaining of Macbeth in detail.

“My fucking brain hurts.” Eddie sighs, laying down, hands crossed over his stomach. You try not to stare at the small patch of hair at the end of his stomach, leading down just past the tip of his belt. Or the way his surprisingly toned stomach stretches against the shirt he’s wearing—which was just a plain, black shirt, surprisingly enough. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen him without any type of Hellfire or metal band shirt on his body. Not that you noticed. Not at all.

Your brain finally stutters back awake at the feeling of his finger poking your thigh. “Huh?” You asks.

“I said, if you’re hot you can take off the sweater—that really can’t be comfortable.”

He was right, it wasn’t. But part of it was because it was like a safety blanket. Also, it was just one of your favorites. You let your brain run on autopilot, slipping it over your head. You tried not to think much of it, thankful your shirt was baggy enough that it didn’t reveal to much of you. Even if your shorts were scandalous in their own right. You had to pick and chose your battles.

You toss the sweater onto his nightstand, noting the paper that falls to the floor as a result. Your drawing, he’s moved into his room, at least. Which was both comforting and odd. You couldn’t understand the interest he’d had in it in the first place, but you weren’t really in a place to question it.

“I’ve been meaning to tape it up somewhere.” He mentions, noticing the way you stared at the lonely piece of a paper. “Not that my wall isn’t already covered in stuff.”

It was the first time you’d actually found the chance to take it all in. Posters, an amp—Eddie definitely came across as a guitar guy, so there wasn’t much surprise there, nightstands littered with random crap—your eyes immediately snapped toward the cuffs on the wall and quickly glanced over. There was no way you were touching on that topic, no fucking way.

“I’d be honored.” You joke, tapping your pencil against your notebook.

“Do you take it with you everywhere?” He asks curiously. “That sketchbook, I mean. I’ve never seen you without it until now.” He laughs innocently, adjusting himself to lean up and back onto his outstretched arms.

“It’s…in my bag.” You say quietly, almost embarrassed at the fact that he read through you so well.

“Can I see some other stuff?”

If there was a way to make you go into cardiac arrest with one sentence, Eddie Munson had found it.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to. I just think it’s cool. At least, from what I’ve seen.” He says openly, gesturing toward the drawing you had given him.

“They’re really not that good, a lot of them are just rough sketches and—I mean, you might find this weird but—“ Don’t mention that fact that you totally draw him a lot—like he won’t notice it the second he opens the book. You had a valid excuse, you just didn’t want to come across as a total creep.

“Just show me.” He smiles, nudging your leg again.

You reach for the book buried in your bag and hand it over. There wasn’t any shame behind the stuff in there, but the way everyone perceives art is so different that the idea of any type of comment or criticism was your worst nightmare.

He flips through slowly, landing on the particular one of Jason you drew from a few days prior. “Now that one’s spot fucking on.” He chuckles to himself, the tiny little devil horns was a nice detail, he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did in the process of drawing it out.

He flips through the next few pages, nodding silently. The anticipation driving a hole through your chest, you couldn’t even comprehend why you were doing this right now. Every single thing that Steve told you flew right out of the window.

He flips another page and you interrupt quickly, “Before you say anything. You have a great hair for drawing, I don’t mean for it to come off as weird but it’s honestly helped me improve a lot.”

“No, no.” He shrugs, “I dig it. I guess I’m kinda your muse, in a way.”

That’s definitely not where you expected that to go. Actually, it was completely left field. So many miles away from where you planned.

“Not exactly.” You assure him. “I just—your hair is really distracting in class. And your side profile is really nice—“ You can feel yourself starting to ramble, the giant Cheshire grin on Eddie’s face only making things worse. “I’m just going to shut up before I embarrass myself more.”

Eddie closes the book and hands it over gingerly, “I really don’t mind. I’m serious.” He means it, you know that. “It’s fucking ridiculous how detailed you are.”

“I-“ You laugh softly, “nevermind. Thank you. Just…thanks, Eddie.”

You were so pleased in the fact that if there was anyone to see your work, someone you considered more of a stranger than a friend, like Robin or Steve, that it was Eddie.

“Anyways, we should probably, you know, get back to work.” You interject after a while of awkward silence, not sure how to move on from the topic.

“Cool with me.” He nods.

The next couple hours pass quickly, finally packing up your stuff after the long tangent Eddie went off on about D&D and the inner workings of it, which was a lot more interesting than you expected.

“Oh hey, you ever get to try out the weed I gave you the other day? It’s pretty damn sweet, right?” He says handing you the pencil you’d lended him.

“Actually, I haven’t.” You admitted. “I’ve been so busy with work that I completely forgot.”

He holds the joint between his fingers like he’d been keeping it stowed away for safekeeping, waiting for the right moment.

“My parents are going to ground me for life if I come home high.” Okay, it was a bit of an over exaggeration, but still buried in truth, nonetheless. “Let alone even smelling like weed.”

“Do you not realize who you’re talking to?” Eddie asks, he tried to seem offended, but it definitely came off as more of a joke. “Come on, miss perfect. We can just smoke it outside.”

You scoff in annoyance, knowing you were far from any type of perfect. “I have to be home in an hour, Eddie. If you get me in trouble with my parents, I swear to god.”

“I know—you’ll murder me and bury me in your backyard.” He jokes, knowing it’s all mostly playful. “Then I’ll come back to haunt your ass.”

You chuckle, your own words coming back to bite you. “Promise?” You ask, in an attempt to one up him.

You weren’t really expecting a response, but he gave you one anyway. “Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.” Eddie teases, bumping his shoulder against yours.

You smiled to yourself, adoring the way that Eddie charmed himself out of any situation with ease. He lit up the joint on the short walk to the wooded area away from his home, safe from any random bystanders that may decide to wander by.

“First hit?” He asks, handing it over to you,

“Such a gentleman.” You reply, hand over your heart. You took a long hit, inhaling until your lungs couldn’t take it and the slight burn lingered in the back of your throat, breathing out slowly through your nose.

For the first time, the silence is comforting. You pass the joint back and forth wordlessly until there’s practically nothing left.

“The stars are so pretty here.”

“Yeah.” Eddie answered after a while, staring directly at you.

You tried to ignore it, the heat of his gaze burning into the side of your face.

“The deeper you get into the city, the less you can really see.”

He hummed to himself, “Totally.”

He hadn’t heard a word you said, too focused on the way you were mindless focused on the sky, mesmerized by something so simple.

“God, I don’t think I’ve ever been this high.” You sigh to yourself, feeling like you were having an out of body experience. Your body didn’t feel like you own, even these clothes felt foreign, the way you ran your fingertips over them. “You’re a really bad influence, Eddie.”

You finally lock eyes with him after a few minutes. He was in a complete daze, high out of his mind–you weren’t even sure if he was still on the same planet as you, which obviously, but there was no way he was leaving this picnic table without some assistance. You take a quick glance at your watch, feeling yourself jump back into reality almost immediately.

“Shit, I’m so dead.” You panic, clumsily placing your feet on the ground–any faster and you probably would’ve twisted your ankle. “I have to go, right now.”

“I can give you a ride, if you need it.” Eddie suggests, but it’s far, far–literally a galaxy away, from the safer option of biking home high.

“I need to ride off the smell anyway, I’ll manage.” You tell him, rather than declining his offer outright. You hesitate for a moment before lending your hand out, gripping his in an effort to pull him up.

“No smoke sessions tomorrow, Eddie. I’m serious.” You point an accusing finger at him, watching as he follows it, then looks up at you with his stupid, dopey smile. “I’m fucking serious.”

Super duper serious. Strictly business from this point forward.

“Fine.” He agrees in defeat, finding his own footing. “But, I’ll definitely feel like an ass if you don’t let me drive you home.”

There was no way Eddie could even put a coherent thought together right now.

“I’ll be fine. I swear.” You tell him, smiling sweetly. He didn’t seem like the type to push back thankfully and dropped the argument there. “See you tomorrow, Munson.”

You leave in a rush, blinded by the idea of having to explain any of this to your parents, and only once you’re home, after a very bumpy, sobering ride–you realize the one very important thing you left behind–your school bag.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

It shouldn’t be something you were worried about, Eddie had already looked through the one possession you were most insecure about–but still, the idea of being thrown so far off your game that you would leave your bag behind was enough to have you showing up at Eddie’s trailer bright and early, the morning dew still stuck to the grass and the birds chirping away at nothing.

You should have figured Eddie wouldn’t be fully dressed when he answered the door, but you weren’t really sure what you were expecting exactly. Still, the door creaking open and revealing a half naked Eddie, boxer-briefs leaving little to imagine–your eyes immediately snap back from where they’d lingered, because nothing about Eddie seemed little, not in the way he was towering over you, right now. Was he really that tall? Huh.

“What can I do for you on this fine–” He begins, voice still fighting through sleep, a yawn escaping him.

“I left my bag last night.” You blurt out. “I just need it back.”

It all seemed ridiculous, in hindsight—showing up like this.

“Uh, yeah–” He looks around, trying to gain his bearings. “It’s on my bed–I think.”

He nods in the direction of said bedroom, swinging the door open to welcome you inside. You side-stepped wide enough to avoid his shirtless chest, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like you were literally going to burst into flames at the slightest touch. Whatever high you had last night was gone, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that you still found Eddie attractive, sober or not.

You move around silently, flipping his blankets around to dig for your bag. He’s standing in the hallway now, just outside the doorway that leads to his room. His arms crossed over his chest tightly, still desperately attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Eddie Munson was nowhere near a morning person, but that made perfect sense in hindsight.

“Gotcha!” You celebrate quietly, throwing the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask—” His voice startles you, “how do you know Henderson?”

It was a weird way to start a conversation, but Eddie wasn’t one to dwell on semantics on proper conversation starting.

“Him and Steve are a package deal.” You explain, like it was the cure all.

“Oh.” You can see the gears turning in his head. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”

“I’ve known Steve since I was in diapers.” You admit, finally catching his gaze. “We’ve been friends for a really long time.”

“So that stuff at lunch the other day–” You had managed to push that so far out of your mind that you were surprised Eddie had even remembered. He was a curious person, you couldn’t really blame him, but the thought of explaining any of it to him was the last thing on your mind.

“Long story.” You laugh it off, feeling eager to escape now. “Anyways, I’ll be over at four. Is that still good for you?” You ask.

He nods silently, angling his body to let you through–because god, why was this hallway so fucking tiny? You clear your throat and quickly move past him, practically jogging toward the door. The faster you escape, the better.

“Later, Princess.” He adds–and you bite down on nothing but air, teeth clenched. He was trying to be coy and you knew it.

“Bye, Eddie.” You reply, lamely attempting to force the nervousness out of your voice. You’ve never forced your legs to pedal so fast in your life, feeling like jello by the time you arrived home.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Why the fuck do they talk like that?” Eddie asks, looking up at you from where he was stretched out on his bed, legs kicked up lazily behind. The soft sound of a random rock song you don’t know the name of playing on the radio to fill in as ambient noise.

“It’s archaic and prose.” You answer simply. “It makes a lot more sense the more you read it.”

“Well, I needeth a break, M’lady.” He jokes, forced accent and all.

“That actually wasn’t bad.” You admit, closing the book that you’d place between you both.

At some point, you’d ended up in a similar position, sprawled out beside Eddie, head resting in the palm of your hand.

“Not to boost your ego or anything, but you’re a pretty good tutor.” Eddie says, twirling the pencil between his fingers slowly.

“Whatever.” You shrug off lightheartedly.

And you can feel the impending question before it even leaves his mouth–blame it on your amazing intuition, but Eddie was also incredibly predictable sometimes.

“You want to know what Dustin and I were talking about during lunch, don’t you?” You ask, eyeing him carefully.

He shrugs, “I’m just a little curious, I guess.”

Fair enough. It might feel good to get off your chest anyways–not to mention half the school already knew about the instance.

“Jason asked me to meet up with him during that back to school bonfire they were having, right before Junior year–you remember? Anyways, I talked to Steve about it. He kinda pushed me toward it initially, he was the only reason I even went–I used to have a huge crush on Jason–horrible, now that I think about it. To make a long story short, he made this whole elaborate show about how he liked him and I ended up half naked in front of him, standing on the dock at his parent’s lake house, but the entire basketball and cheer team watched the entire thing happen. I didn’t realize until I heard them laughing from the bushes. There’s a picture, somewhere, I’m sure–I just try to block it out of my memory.” You explain slowly, enough time had passed that you could think about it without bursting into tears from embarrassment, but it was still terrifying to say out loud. “Steve felt really bad about all of it. I know he didn’t know any of that was going to happen, but I just took a lot of my frustration out on him.”

Eddie was eerily quiet, like he was attempting to soak all the information in. You tried not to gauge his reaction too much, knowing that pity was a normal reaction from most people.

“And then,” You say on a deep breath, “Steve and I got really drunk and made out and it was fucking weird. We joke about it now, but it was just…a lot of mistakes in one night, so I try to forget about it.”

“Good to know that Jason’s still a total dick.” He adds, not like that wasn’t already obvious. “I can’t believe you made out with Harrington.”

You want to gag at the long, distanced memory. “It wasn’t my best moment.” You agree.

“So, yeah–Dustin knows a couple secrets about me. And now you do–but if you tell anyone–Eddie–”

“I won’t.” You can see the seriousness on his face, coming from his voice.

“Swear?” You ask

“Pinky swear.” He answers, holding up his ringed pinky finger. You hesitate for a second before wrapping your own pinky finger around his.

He doesn’t let go. But to be fair, neither do you. He’s looking at you, not ogling, but admiring–although, it definitely could’ve been interpreted as him checking you out. You avert your attention to the intricate design of the ring on his finger, making some attempt to break the heavy, thick blanket of tension that had fallen over the both of you. It wasn’t like you’d never laid in bed with a boy before–you could lay and talk with Steve for hours, but Steve didn’t look at you the way Eddie did, not ever.

You clear your throat softly, twisting the ring with the few fingers that weren’t interlocked with his, both of your hands now resting against the soft duvet. “Is that a pig?” You ask lightheartedly. The answer never comes.

Instead, “Can I kiss you?” Eddie asks, almost too timid to be his own voice.

Your mouth hangs open for a half second, before you force yourself to pull it together. And you’re pretty sure your heart was making a desperate attempt at beating its way out of your chest. You nod slowly, leaning forward before you can even think about stopping yourself.

His lips were soft, gentle–but firm in the way they pressed against yours. You only had a couple other experiences to compare this too, but it was obvious that Eddie had confidence in his own abilities. You pulled back after a few seconds, wetting your lips nervously. Eddie followed the way the tip of your tongue dragged over them, the heat from the breathy exhale he let out fanning over your face.

“You never answered my question.” You say softly, eyes flicking up to look at him. His gaze still locked on your lips, you repeat yourself once more, this time calling him out directly. “Eddie, you never answered my question.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a pig.” He says, eyes finally locking with yours. “It’s a stupid fucking pig.” His voice is strained, breathy–and you’re just as sure as he is in the fact that you can’t believe this is even happening.

And even if you may end up regretting the decision later, you decide to put him out of his misery. Letting go of his hand completely, hand settling and finding a place to call home against the back of his neck, you pull him forward. He grunts slightly, almost inaudible as you press your lips against his own, more delicate than he had. In the way that he was entirely too sure of himself, you had restraint, hesitance. You let a long, breathy sigh and try to ignore the way your body shivers with nervousness and anticipation.

Eddie takes the opportunity to find his way past your lips, teasingly dragging his tongue against your own. Your brain could literally short circuit at the thought of his mouth being anywhere else on your body, even now you could feel yourself screaming internally and if you weren’t so goddamn turned on, you probably would just scream out loud.

His hand found your waist at some point, playing with the frayed fabric attached to the bottom of your shirt, kissing you fervently, playfully–and like the tease he’s proven to be, he bites down on your bottom lip gently, for good measure.

“Eddie,” You breath out, pulling back. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him, only following the way his hand is massaging the dip in your waist, “studying, remember?”

“Shit.” He curses to himself, allowing himself to drop back into reality. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You assure him, knowing that studying was the last thing you were hoping to focus on now.

“I didn’t mean to overstep, I’m sorry if–” Eddie starts, and you can’t help but feel like a sucker for the way his voice stutters over the apology. And studying be-fucking-damned, you had plenty of other time to help him out. You had to allow yourself to self-indulge, at least once, and regret it later.

“Fuck it.” You sigh, shoving your belongings out of the way and pulling him toward you again.

He immediately takes the advantage of being above you, slotting his own legs between yours, still remaining enough distance that you both wouldn’t simultaneously combust from the idea of grinding against each other, though you weren't sure how long that would actually last.

He delves into your mouth like you’re the last meal he’s ever going to have and Jesus Christ–-no one’s ever kissed you this way. You sigh openly, letting Eddie deepen the kiss further. You try to find every reason to pull away, but you’re drawing the biggest fucking blank, gasping softly when Eddie’s hands dip behind your lower back, grasping onto your ass and bring you closer. And there’s no way to ignore the feeling of Eddie’s groin pressed against you, dick straining against the material of his jeans. His openly sighs into your mouth, switching from sweet, closed mouth kisses to dirty, deep open mouthed kisses that leave you both begging for more. His hand slips between you both, palm coming to rest against your clothed mound. He stops for a moment, like he wants to ask permission.

“Eddie,” You say softly, almost startled by how spent you sound, “I don’t know if we should–”

You wanted to keep going–god did you want to, but there was a lot of shit you needed to figure out first. And luckily, this didn’t feel like a one off experience, the way Eddie looked up at you with his wide eyed gaze, lips still obscenely wet and puffy.

“I’ve never–you know,” You struggle to find the words, “I’m a virgin. You should probably know that.”

You had enough common sense to know that Eddie wasn’t, judging by the pack of condoms he never bothered to put in his nightstand drawer, it seemed likely enough that he’s probably fucked a girl or two before, not that you cared. You just weren’t sure if this was the right time to be delving into uncharted territory.

“Fuck, I-” He replies, slightly breathless, “We totally don’t have to. I didn’t really expect–I just wanted to kiss you at first but Jesus–you’re fucking amazing.”

You laugh openly, falling back against the mattress. The look on Eddie’s face was priceless, something you wanted to take a picture of and remember forever. But, the way his fingers accidentally drag against you from where they were now resting against your inner thigh are enough to shake you back into reality.

“Sorry.” He says sheepishly, dragging his fingers back.

You stop him on a whim. The whim being the fact that you’re just incredibly to horny to leave with the state you were in. Fucked out, without even being fucked properly.

“We can…if you want.” You suggest tentatively. “Just for a little.”

Teenage hormones were a hell of hard thing to overcome and you were desperately losing that battle.

“If you don’t want to it’s fine–I get that you’ve never–” Eddie starts, but you emphasize by dragging his finger up your thigh and right about the waistband of your shorts–similar to the one from the day before, short and just as scandalous.

“It’s not like I’ve never touched myself before, Eddie.” You assure him, feeling the way his fingers played with the fabric teasingly. “I’m a virgin, not a puritan.”

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He sighs, forehead resting against your shoulder. You jump at the first touch of his fingers against your bare cunt, and part of you wants to feel embarrassed about the wetness that had collected there, but you were way too horny to give a shit. “And so wet.” It comes out as a moan. A fucking moan.

It should be criminal how attractive Eddie sounds right now, fingers exploring a part of you that only you’ve ever known. He drags a single digit from bottom to top, collecting the wetness. The tightness of your shorts left little room for him to move his hand around and the contact was almost earth-shattering. He hesitates, taking a moment to circle around your clit. You sigh quietly, which he takes as a good sign, testing the motion out again, and again, until you’re practically keening from the pressure building there. The way his finger slips into you is jarring, how easily he moves past your folds, starting a slow, steady motion of guiding his fingers in and out of you, occasionally stopping to drag his fingers against the most sensitive part of your body, the only place you wanted him to be.

“Oh,” You moan softly, “fuck, please.”

Eddie could come at the sound of you, the way your voice squeaks in desperation. He chuckles softly, using his thumb to circle your clit, teasing and slow. You could get yourself there just fine, but the foreign feeling of a hand that wasn’t yours, knowing your body almost as well as you did, it was enough to have you squeezing down on his fingers in pleasure.

“More?” He asks softly, looking from his face had been resting against the middle of your chest, watching as his fingers disappeared into your shorts.

“Please.” You beg, almost desperate. His second finger joins the first, adding a nice stretch that you’ve never really felt like this. His fingers were so much bigger than your own, so much more filling. You gasp loudly at the sudden change in pace, closing your eyes in a bid to hide your own embarrassment at the sound of your own voice. When you finally pry your eyes open, Eddie is staring at you. You weren’t sure how long he had been, but his gaze is dark, hot–you want to disappear.

“I want to hear you.” He assures you, emphasizing his words by working his finger against your clit quickly, causing you to mewl in response, back arching off the bed. “You sound so pretty, princess.”

And if there was any other way to die, this is exactly how you wanted to go out.

The pressure builds and builds, Eddie finding every way to pull sounds out of you, some you didn’t even know you were capable of. You can feel the way he’s absently, but still gently, grinding against your leg, where he’d maneuvered himself after a while, in hopes of relieving some of the pressure off of his own issue. You could tell he was holding back, which made you feel slightly guilty.

The thought is immediately interrupted by your orgasm washing over you out of the blue, fast, nearly knocking you out from the feeling that spreads throughout your entire body. Eddie works you through the end, even when your body is oversensitive and tingling.

“Jesus Christ.” You sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

“Nah, just me.” He says cheekily, grinning.

You reach for the clasp on his belt on instinct, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “It’s fine.” He laughs softly, “Besides, the second you touch my dick, I’m done for.”

It’s absurd, but it makes you giggle to yourself.

“I’ll take care of it later.” He admits, adjusting the front of his jeans to provide relief. The thought of him in bed, dick in hand, had you squeezing your thighs together shamelessly.

“O-Okay.” You reply, pushing yourself up as he moved off of you. “Well, thanks—I guess?”

You both fall into a fit of laughter immediately, not finding any reason to ignore how ridiculous you felt. Not to mention that way your heart twisted at the way Eddie’s grin reached from ear to ear. It wasn’t a new thing exactly, Eddie smiled a lot, but you knew this one was reserved for both of you, and that had your stomach doing back flips.

“My pleasure.” He replies, putting on a fancy, pretentious accent. “Princess.”

“Why princess?” You ask curiously, wondering where the name fits in for you.

“I don’t know,” Eddie shrugs, sitting back on his heels, “You've always been little miss ‘pretty and perfect’ to me—smart, and you don’t really put up with anyone’s shit—I almost didn’t believe it when you asked me to sell weed to you that first time.”

“Thought I was gonna rat you out, huh?” You ask teasingly.

“Maybe just a little.” He admits, holding his thumb and pointer finger an inch from each other. You toss a pillow at his head, he takes the hit like a champ, throwing it softly back at you.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

You two spend the next couple weeks studying off and on, not really bothering to avoid hanging out at school. Dustin actually enjoyed it; since he practically worshiped Eddie and you were another friend he had to talk to, not that Mike Wheeler wasn’t sufficient enough, his mind was just flooded with girls and Dustin was so far from the precipice of females.

Even if you spent half of your study sessions making out, you still managed to get enough work done that Eddie was making a little improvement—not to mention the look on Ms. McNally’s face when she called him out in class and he answered her question correct—you would’ve thought hell had finally froze over. Study sessions went from a weekend basis, to Eddie showing up to your shift at Family Video to ask about a question on the homework on any given day, not trying to hide the fact that he wanted another reason to talk to you outside of school.

“If you manage to help him graduate, it will be a miracle.” Steve says one day, leaning in as Eddie left the store.

You show up at his door that night, ready for another one of your tedious study sessions. But he’s answering the door before you have a chance to think.

“My uncle’s home.” He tells, looking back over his shoulder. You’d gotten lucky with the past couple of weeks, timing your visits almost perfectly, so that they aligned with his uncle’s work schedule. But, you weren’t sure what to do now.

“Well, we can just study—it’s fine.” You tell him quietly, “or I can come over tomorrow?”

“No.” He all but blurts out, “Sorry—we, we can just take my van. I know a spot where we can go.”

You’re hesitant at first, but you agree—it’s Eddie, you knew it would be fine.

His van is incredibly spacey, to your surprise. It made a lot of sense, though. You could tell he’d had more than a few smoke sessions based on how it practically reeked of weed and his cologne. When you’re stopped at the spot—a wide expanse of trees covering a large area and a giant skull shaped rock in the middle, he swings the back doors open, giving you a better view of his setup.

“Skull rock, Eddie? Seriously?” You deadpan, climbing out of the passenger seat and to the back of his van.

“What?” He asks innocently, hands flying out to his side in question. “It’s a great spot.”

You could point out every surface that Steve had made out with a girl on that rock, from memory—despite wanting to know, Steve just hated keeping his sexcapades to himself sometimes. Either way, you couldn’t complain. It was quiet, secluded, you didn’t have to worry about anyone finding Eddie toking up in the back if he so decided, even if you didn’t plan to partake. And part of you knew, not much study was going to take place anyways.

“Can I draw you?” You ask randomly, Eddie peering at you from where he’s perched on the edge of his van. “Sorry, that was really forward—I just—“

“Sure.” He agrees, moving deeper inside the van, the night sky nearly swallowing the van whole. If it weren’t for the overhead lights, you wouldn’t be able to see more than a couple inches in front of your face, luckily they lit the interior up well enough.

“How do you want me, Picasso?” He asks, flaring his jacket out.

“Just sit—and, what are you doing?” You laugh, watching as he knelt down, chin on his fist, a goofy attempt at a heroic pose.

“Too much?” He asks, but he doesn’t need the answer. He can tell by the amused look on your face, so he shifts onto his backside, legs spread out slightly, one lifted up so his foot was planted in the floor.

“Act like we’re in your room, talking—just be comfortable.” You remind him, letting the pencil feel out the paper.

And you don’t think you’ve ever heard Eddie stay so quiet, for so long. But he’s watching you, just as much you had been watching him, fiddling with his rings occasionally.

“Something on your mind?” You ask curiously, about halfway through the sketch, “I can see the gears turning in your head.”

“Just thinking.” He says quietly, eyes still locked on yours. “I don’t want to distract you, though.”

Though, that was really the plan all along—so you took the bait.

“No, tell me.” You demand, setting the pencil and book down.

He chuckles to himself, “I’m just thinking about how I wanna kiss you right now.”

You smile knowingly, a little shy now by how intently he’s looking at you. “Then why don’t you?”

And like a dam breaking, he’s on you instantly, hands gripping under your thighs to lay you down on the blanket that was covering the expanse of the back of his van.

“Wait, the doors.” You tell him through quick kisses. “Close the doors.”

And you’re right. The last thing you need is someone walking up on two high school students getting hot and heavy in the back of a van. The doors slam shut and he’s finding his way back to you, eyeing your mouth greedily. Eddie had gotten more and more comfortable with maneuvering you around how he wanted, knowing just how to have you begging for more and more.

His mouth leaves yours, kissing the underside of your chin, your neck, the small part of your chest that was exposed to him. He wanted to worship you in every way and form possible. He’s got his dick pressed against your core, still jailed by the confines of his jeans, the coldness of the chain he had attached to his pants, the one bearing factor that was keeping you grounded. Otherwise, you probably would have left the planet already.

“Wanna taste you so bad.” He groans against your neck, free hand coming up to rest against your cheek, stroking the delicate skin. “Please?”

“Yeah,” You rush out, licking your suddenly too dry lips, “only if you let me taste you too.” You slip your hands in the waistband of your sweatpants, pushing them and your underwear down in one go. You definitely want to feel ashamed, but you can’t help yourself. He freaking out at the thought of your mouth around him, you could say the same for yourself.

You expect him to delve right in, devour you immediately, but he stills himself. He mumbled something into the inside of your thigh, you try not to think about it too much, opening your legs a little wider. He’s nipping and biting at the most sensitive parts of your skin, watching you squirm in anticipation.

And when the flat of his tongue finally makes contact with your core, you moan unabashedly, reveling in the feeling. His nose nudges at your clit, and the sounds—god, the sounds. You blushed a particular shade of red, ashamed at how well your body was responding to his touch.

“So pretty and perfect.” He says against your cunt, “Just like I suspected.”

You laugh at the absurdity of it all, moaning when he sneaks a finger up to join with the work his mouth couldn’t cover. He was working you up, he wanted you to come, but the fact that he already had you 1-0 was a crime and that just wouldn’t suffice.

He grabbed your hands, which had been laying useless at your side, and guided them to the beautiful mane of hair attached to him. You wrapped your fingers around the hair at tugged, ever so softly. The look on his face as he pulled back was something you’d never soon forget, mouth covered in your clear slick, his tongue reaching out to lick his bottom lip.

“Wanna suck your dick, Eddie.” You begged. “Please.”

The look of pleading you gave him had him melting in your hands. He wordlessly lifted himself to his knees, wasting no time to undo the buckle of his belt. You helped him along the way, unzipping and pulling at the waistband of his jeans. When you finally found the chance to switch positions, he was already pulling the top of his underwear underneath his ass, but you couldn’t be bothered to wait any longer. You moved on instinct, grabbing his dick in your hand and tugging on the shaft gently, testing his body out.

Even though you didn’t have much to compare it to, Eddie Munson still had the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen.

“Shit, say that again.” He groans, watching you lean forward to kiss at the tip. You hadn’t realized you even said that aloud until he was staring down at you, completely wrecked by the idea of you finding his dick pretty.

“It’s so pretty and perfect.” You tease, licking the underside of his dick in one, long stripe.

He curses audibly, head banging against the metal of the van.

You take him carefully, slowly. Maybe you’re doing everything wrong, but the moan that escapes him proves otherwise. His hand curls around the back of your head gently, guiding and setting a pace. He’s showing you what he likes, so you give it to him. You’re careful not to scrape against his shaft with your teeth, using your tongue to trace slow circles around the tip before swallowing him down in one go, it was a lot more than you could initially handle, it makes your eyes water and you pull back for a moment to catch your breath.

“Sorry, too much.” You apologize halfheartedly and Eddie gives you an incredulous look, both mesmerized and completely caught off guard.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He breaths out, eyes searching yours for a moment. “I don’t want to sound forward but I really wanna fuck you.”

If it was anyone else, they’d probably be dead. But, the way Eddie sounds almost desperate is the entire reason you’re nodding your head in earnest.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.” You agree, despite how terrified the thought made you feel.

“We can stop if it’s too much for you.” Eddie tells you, sincerity ringing through. “I’m serious.”

You nod, “I’m good, I swear.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Eddie has you wedged in between the makeshift pillow he made and himself, laid out comfortably on your side, naked from head to toe, and you try not to linger on the way he’s staring at your breasts, or the hand that’s running between your legs, dipping into your folds again. You adjust yourself slightly, legs widening at the touch. He’s gentle and you want to cry at the thought that someone would want to take so much care with you. He fingers you open slowly, swallowing your moans throat deep, lingering kisses that you never want to end. You can hear the wrapper crinkle between you, watching as pulls away to rip it open with his teeth.

Mesmerized as he rolls the condom down his shaft, you clench at the idea of him being inside. You didn’t want to think anymore, letting your body run on autopilot.

“We can go slow. Just tell me what feels good.” He reminds you, hiking your leg up against his hip, positioning himself at your entrance. You nod silently, bracing yourself. Your hand wraps around his wrist where he’s caressing your head, letting the slow, stretching feeling of him pushing inside take over your body. It stings, but barely—you nod again, looking up to let him know that this was okay, that you were okay.

He gradually picks the pace up, once he’s finally seated inside you and you’re accustomed to the feeling of him. It wasn’t until then that you realized just how noisy Eddie could be—moaning every obscenity under the sun into mouth as you swallowed up everyone with a kiss, gasping for air when he grazed your clit with his thumb from where it had been resting against your hip bone.

You can feel the way he’s holding back, not sure how much you could take. He’s gripping you tight, and you attempt to break him from whatever daze he’s locked himself into.

“Eddie, it’s fine.” You say breathlessly, “I can take it.”

And like that, he releases you, maneuvering you onto your back to adjust himself over you, pulling himself out to adjust before he’s careful thrusting back in, hand tucked under the soft skin at the back of your knee, bearing the weight you couldn’t bother to hold up.

He leans forward and mouths at your breasts, taking the time to graze his teeth against the tip of the the soft bud of your nipple, causing a gasp to bubble out of your chest. “Do that again.” You beg.

He laughs quietly, showing the other breast the same care, then switching back to the other. Fuck, it was so good. You’d almost been too distracted to realize the pace he’d picked up, more consistent as the sound your bodies coming together filled up the silence. That and the moans you couldn’t bother to keep quiet, mixing in with his own.

“Feel so good, princess.” He groans, mouth tucked away into your neck, mouthing at the skin there. “Squeezing my dick just right.”

Eddie has a filthy mouth, obviously. You were definitely bookmarking that for later.

“Wanna come, Eddie. Please.” You gasp, trying desperately to push back to meet the more desperate pace Eddie had set.

“Here,” He’s grabbing your hand, guiding it between the both of you, “wanna see you touch yourself, see if you can make yourself come as good as I can.”

Part of you doesn’t know how to respond, so you don’t, but you mindlessly obey the request at hand, circling your clit with your own two fingers, gasping at how sensitive you were. Fingers were one thing, but Eddie’s dick—that was something else entirely. You’re trying desperately to keep up, but Eddie can tell you’re overwhelmed, overworked, so he slips his hand against yours, helping you through the motion.

“You’re almost there, I can tell.” He murmurs against your ear, the hotness of his breath sending tingles down your entire body. “I got you.”

He moved your fingers with his, hips shaking sloppily, thrusting himself through his own climax, watching as your mouth dropped open in a wordless shout, orgasm hitting you in a flash of white, leaving you panting for breath when you came back to earth.

Eddie gives you a few minutes to settle, brushing your wild hair behind your ears and out of your face—he pulls out slowly, removing and tying the condom, discarding it in the front of the van inside of the tiny trash can nestled underneath the passenger side dash. He seems worried.

“It was good.” You assure him, hoping he wasn’t stressing over the idea of ruining anything for you. “I don’t really have anything to compare it to but if it’s anything like that, it was pretty damn good.”

He chuckles gently, his chest shaking at the motion. You finally have a clear view of some of the tattoos you never really noticed until now. Eddie had slipped his underwear back on in the process, helping you search through the flurry of mixed clothes to find your own.

“I guess I just wasn’t sure how we’d handle things after.” He says quietly, taking a seat next to. You see him reach for the pre-rolled blunt sitting in the ashtray and you grab his wrist, pulling it toward you.

“Well, do you want me to leave?” It wasn’t meant to sound harsh, Eddie didn’t seem to take it that way either.

“No.” He replies sheepishly, hands resting in his lap.

“Then stop worrying. Stop acting like you just scandalized me.” You laugh, poking his stomach. “I think we’re way past that.”

“God, because the sounds you make should be illegal and I don’t like being a one and done type of guy—“ Eddie would have gone on a tangent had you let him, but the gentle reminder you offered was enough to shut him up.

“Well, next time—“

“Next time?” He quirks up, eyebrows raised.

“Next time,” You repeat, feeling a little silly, “we’ll find out just how long the both of us can get. But, first—you gotta pass English.”

The exasperated sigh that Eddie let out was enough to have you curling forward in laughter.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” He smiles, reaching forward to kiss you, chaste and sweet.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x afab reader #i sat on this for too long and i'm starting to hate it GOODBYE #my writing #1kfic

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discordantwritings · 5 months

Text

Always Return to You (Shanks x Reader NSFW)

Warnings: Some guys being creepy, gn afab! reader, love confessions, slight exhibitionism (the tavern is closed but yknow), PiV sex, creampie, not beta read

WC: 2.8k

Summary: You and Shanks have been flirting for a while now and you can’t help but wonder if it’s just entertainment for him- or if he has the same feelings that you do.

Note: I mean there’s a reason he’s bagged Buggy and Mihawk. This man has skills. This man has swagger. I hope I captured a sliver of his BDE.

When the Red Haired Pirates rolled into town you always knew you were in for some long nights serving at the local bar. You didn’t mind though, they always tipped well, were significantly nicer than your average pirate, and then, of course, there was the captain.

You never know what to make of Shanks. Logically you know he’s got a huge bounty and a reputation for being one of the strongest pirates in all the seas. But when he rolls into the bar with a lopsided grin and the laugh of a man who doesn’t have a worry you can’t see a terrifying pirate.

His crew and him hang around your bar for a week every few months while they restock in a large port nearby and you can’t help but look forward to when his ship cruises in. You’ve built quite the friendship up with Shanks over the years, finding him easy to get along with and easier to talk to. The two of you have shared stories until the morning hours and despite everything he’s experienced he still cares and pays attention to yours as much as you do his.

And, if you are able to admit just to yourself, you love the flirting. Shanks flirts with everyone, and you’re no exception to his wandering gaze and cheeky words. Even though his affections are not only for you you can’t help but feel special when his eyes travel down your figure. You give it as good as he gives too and Shanks always loves it, but neither of you have ever crossed that line.

He’s a pirate captain. You’re just some server. It’s never going to happen.

But that doesn’t stop the pang of jealousy you feel every time you see him leave the bar with someone else tucked under his arm. You would never do or say anything but deep down you wonder how it feels to have that strong hand on the small of your back or that bright red hair in your fingers while his head was-

“Did ya miss me?” You almost drop a drink when you hear Shank’s voice right next to you.

Looking up you see him leaning on the bar next to you, that stupid lopsided smile on his face. You have to fight down embarrassment that he just caught you in the middle of thoughts about him. Having been brought back to reality you finally notice the rest of his crew taking seats in the tavern, rowdy in a way that makes you feel like you’re having fun as well.

“Do you think I wait around for you to come back?” You don’t look at him, just continue loading drinks onto your tray for the other large party of pirates here.

“Of course not.” He slides a bit closer and helps you balance the final drinks. “Just thinkin’ about how I missed lookin’ at you.”

You shoot him an annoyed look, but there’s no malice behind it. “Yeah, yeah. You say that to everyone.”

“But I mean it with you.” He fires back.

“Keep dreaming.” You say as you walk away to deliver the drinks.

“Always of you baby!” He shouts with a laugh, finally moving back to his crew.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the large grin that comes over your face. Shanks has a way of making the atmosphere lighter and honestly, you needed it tonight.

The Red Haired Pirates weren’t the only group in here tonight- some low level scumbags occupied half of the tavern and you cringed when you turned to deliver their drinks and got greeted with drunken catcalls. But you took a deep breath and pushed all your emotions down as you handed everyone their drinks. At least with Shank’s crew here you know someone will tip well tonight.

Throughout the night you hover around the Red Haired Pirates, seeking the kind reprieve from the more obnoxious guests of the night. Everyone is kind to you and you catch up on the adventures they had while they were away. You don’t pay special attention to Shanks, but you can feel his gaze on you whenever you’re around. The way he looks at you versus the way everyone else does- it’s hard to place what’s different logically but it just is. You feel safe with Shanks, no matter what you know that if you ever seriously said no he would back off, which is not something you’d trust most men to do.

As the night wears on everyone gets drunker and sloppier and the guests start getting worse and worse. It’s becoming exhausting to ignore the hoots and hollers mixed with nasty whispers when you bring the next round of drinks. The Red Haired Pirates have been slowly leaving as the night wore on and not having that buffer was starting to take its toll. Luckily, Shanks was still there.

Despite the amount of drink you know he’s had he’s surprisingly composed as he sits back in the wooden booth. His gaze has something stirring underneath it and you follow his sight line over to the other crew of pirates. Sliding him another drink you decide to question him.

“They a rival crew or something?” You can’t imagine that sloppy group could compare to Shank’s crew, but you weren’t sure what else it could be.

“No.” He doesn’t stop staring. “But if those dirty assholes don’t stop eye-fucking you they are going to regret it.”

Oh.

His words stop your thoughts in your tracks and you can feel your brain having to hard reboot. Your body has no issues though and you can feel arousal pool down in your belly.

“You don’t-“ You stumble over your words as your brain finally catches up. “It’s not a big deal.”

Shanks finally turns his gaze to you and seeing him serious is a strange feeling. “It should be. You want me to deal with them?”

You glance back over at them and then down to your watch. “It’s almost closing anyways. They aren’t worth your time.”

“But you are.” When he says things like that normally he’s usually smiling with a light tilt to his voice but this time he’s deep and sincere. Your heart goes head over heels in your chest.

“I have to- um-“ You point back to the bar where a few patrons are waiting to pay their tabs.

“I’ll stay with you while you close, alright?” His words calm you, no longer having to worry about if any of your more unsavory guests are going to try and hang around after hours. You nod and smile at him before walking back to the bar to finish up your night.

You’re not sure if Shank’s egregious glaring was the reason the final hours of the night went so smooth but you’re certainly not complaining. The rowdy patrons slowly filter out as you start to clean up and Shanks is surprisingly helpful, putting up chairs while you mop the floor. However, thoughts have been gnawing at the back of your head.

Finally having everything cleaned up and ready for tomorrow you and Shanks head for the door but you stop halfway and have to speak up. “Shanks, can I ask you something?”

He stops and turns on his heels, slight concern on his face. “Of course.”

“Do you-“ Embarassment works its way up your neck and you avoid Shank’s gaze. “I just have to know if-“

Shanks is patient with you, not speaking as he walks closer to you.

“Do you actually like me.” You finally manage to spit out. “Because we have this thing and it’s fun but sometimes I wonder if this is how you act with everyone or-“

Your words trail off and there’s silence. After a few moments you work up the courage and look up at Shanks. His bright red hair falls over his face as he seems lost in thought. You don’t notice his arm moving until his hand interlinks in yours.

“I don’t think like is really the word I’d use.” He brings your hand up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “Love might be more appropriate.”

“You can’t just say things like that.” There’s no hiding your embarrassment now, a blush probably covering every inch of your body.

“Why not?” He uses his hold to pull you in closer, your chest grazing his. “It’s true.”

“And you’re not just going to sail away and leave me here?” You squeeze his hand, searching in his eyes if he’s telling the truth.

“I always come back for you, don’t I? I certainly don’t keep coming back here for the food.” His eyes are shining and he has that signature grin back in his face.

“You��d keep coming back to me?” Your other arm comes up and drapes around his shoulder.

“Nothing could stop me.” There’s a sincerity and strength to his words that has you melting.

His face is so close to your now that he’s taking over your senses. You can smell the beer you’ve been serving him but the strong scent of the sea will probably always linger on him. You move closer, his lips painfully close to yours.

“Are you sure-“ You don’t even finish your question before Shanks has closed the small distance between you.

You’ve imagined what it would like to kiss him countless times but actually kissing him blows all of your fantasies out of the water. Slow but confident movements have you melting into him. His hand releases yours and snakes around to the small of your back, pulling your body flush with his. He doesn’t let up until you’re breathless, pulling away with a gasp.

Shanks rests his forehead against yours patiently giving you time to breathe again. Turning your gaze up you lock eyes with Shanks again and you see a flash of hunger in his gaze before he’s kissing you again. Your knees go weak and you feel the low rumble of Shank’s chuckle as he starts to lead you backwards until you feel the back of your knees connect with a table. Breaking away again you hop up to sit on the table, hands coming up to grab Shanks by the collar of his shirt to pull him in again. His legs go between yours, forcing your thighs apart as he leans over you.

“So.” His mouth comes down to your neck, words spoken in between opened mouthed kisses to the skin there. “You want me to bring you back to my ship now or bring you back to my ship after I’ve fucked you on this table.”

The moan that leaves you is involuntary and you hook your legs around his waist, hoping that answers his question for him. It doesn’t.

“Oh c’mon I want to hear you say it.” He comes back up to look you in the eyes. You try to turn away in embarrassment but his hand comes up and softly redirects your chin back to him.

“I want you to fuck me on this table.” You whisper, catching the way his pupils dilate at your words.

“That’s it sweetheart.” He returns to attacking your neck as your arms come up around his neck.

Using your grip you drag you hips up to his and grind down, moaning when you feel his clothed erection through the layers of fabric. Unable to help himself he ruts his hips into yours, biting down into your neck.

“Eager, aren’t we?” His hand is at the waistband of your pants, slipping under and down to your center. Fingers quickly find your folds and he chuckles when he feels how soaked you are.

“Been thinking about you all night.” You confess, lifting up into his touch.

“Fuck, me too.” He kisses you with a renewed heat and you gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers push into you.

Taking advantage of that his tongue enters your mouth and you let yourself be swept up in the sensations. Two calloused fingers scissor inside you and you grip Shank’s bright red hair at the base of his neck.

It isn’t long until Shanks is pulling his fingers out and you whine at the loss. You’re about to complain until you see him bring his fingers up to his mouth and lick your slick off.

“Shit you taste good sweetheart.” You moan at his words and the heels of your shoes dig into his back. “Should I get a better taste now or later?”

Damn him and his choices. “Later- I need you inside me.”

You both break away for a few moments to fumble with your pants and you kick yours off fast, the wood cold against your bare ass. When Shanks’ pants come down you can’t help but stare. He’s big and while you are slightly afraid he’s not going to fit you would be lying if you weren’t up for the challenge.

Shanks seems equally captivated by you, his hand pushing your thighs apart so he can get a better look. “I could feel you were soaked but damn, all this for me baby?”

“Just for you.” Those words seemed to be exactly what Shanks wanted to hear because he wastes no more time.

Gripping himself he drags the tip of his cock through your slick, mixing it with the precum leaking out of him. He slaps his tip onto your clit and your hands shoot out to his shoulders to stead yourself.

“Stop being such a tease.” You huff.

“Oh c’mon you know you love it.” But he relinquishes to you, lining himself up with your entrance.

Even just the push of his tip into you stretches you and you take deep breaths as he slowly sinks further into you. The stretch rides the line between pain and pleasure and you claw at Shanks’ back.

“You’re doing so good for me baby. Taking me so well.” He whispers in you ear, soothing you as you adjust to his size.

It takes you a bit for the pain to completely fade into pleasure as he sits in you as far as he can go. When you’re finally ready for him to move again you nod, and Shanks begins to move. His pace is slow and you feel every inch of him drag in and out of you.

“Fuck baby you’re so tight.” His head is pressed against your shoulder as he uses all of his self control to go slow with you.

“I just think-“ You cut yourself off with a moan as he bottoms out again. “That you’re just fucking big.”

Shanks laughs. “Two things can be true.”

You can’t stop the smile that comes over your face. His sense of humor was infectious like that. Your laughs turn into a moan as he picks up the pace, and you can’t help but feel like you’re being split in half. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he pulls you in for more deep kisses.

The slow build of your orgasm comes creeping up on you, your walls clenching around Shanks. You know he feels it because he stops kissing you to let out a deep groan as his thrusts stutter. It doesn’t take him long to recover though and when he trusts into you again it’s faster and deeper than before. His hand comes down between the two of you and his skilled fingers work your clit while he whispers in your ear.

“Need you to cum on my cock baby. Want you to remember this every time you work. Can you do that? Cum all over this table for me baby?” His filthy words and fast movements send you spiraling and it’s not long before you’re cuming with a scream.

Shanks isn’t too far behind you. “Where-“

You don’t need him to finish his sentence and you use the remaining strength in your legs to lock his hips to yours. He cums deep inside you with a shudder and you’ve never felt so full.

The two of you sit there intertwined as you both come down from your orgasms, heavy breaths the only noise in the room. When he finally pulls out you can feel his cum begin to leak out of you and you have to admit you love the feeling.

“I’ll be right back.” Shanks kisses your forehead as he walks away for a moment but comes back with a damp rag to clean you and the table up.

“So.” You link your arms around his neck. “I think you might have to carry me back to your ship.”

That lopsided grin is back on his face. “Baby if it were up to me I’d carry you everywhere.”

“So romantic.”

“Anything for the person I love.” He grabs your hand again, kissing your knuckles.

You know life will be hard with a partner who’s a notorious pirate, but you know your heart is his and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #shanks x reader #red haired shanks x reader #x reader #discordantwritings

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bananabeebenson · 10 months

Note

Romcom kind of idea: Helmeppo and Garp takes Koby drinking to relax since next day they have to start training some new recruits. At the bar Koby see a pretty lady and get pushed by the other two older marines for him to go talk to her. After talking, drinking and maybe even a little make out session with the lady, Koby goes home all relaxed and happy. Next day, still with a little hangover, Koby goes to talk with the new recruits just to spot who in the crowd? Cute lady!!!! And she looks just as surprised as him. What now?

Pairing: Koby x Reader

Warnings: None (SFW/Fluff and some awkward Koby)

Word Count: 1,940

Fic is under the cut

Requests are open

Koby should have known this was going to be a mistake.

Garp, the famous Hero of the Navy, had pulled only a handful of strings in pulling his two apprentices away from Marineford to an island only half an hour’s travel away, where a ‘perfect bar was calling them’. Koby had been trying to ignore their insistence that he join them. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t have enjoyed the idea of a couple of drinks possibly in the house, or Garp’s own tab, it was that the next day they would find themselves training their first new wave of Recruits. Koby and Helmeppo had struggled to get as far as they had come, fighting through tribulations and their own self-inflicted doubts to get to the point they were. Not to mention the thin ice they sometimes found themselves on due to their light association with Luffy D. Monkey. Not that they would complain. Garp’s name would usually be enough to back off most who threw doubts their way, or their own accomplishments they’ve managed in most locations. This had put them in good enough graces to finally take on a small group of new recruits to be trained. It wouldn’t be permanent, like Garp with them, but more so a temporary thing to last only a few months before they would be split apart and shipped off to different areas. Some would remain in Marineford, but not many.

“Come on.” Helmeppo spoke, tilting his head to the side just as the boat rocked to the right a little too hard. It wasn’t a Navy ship like they were used to, more so a simple Ferry built to withstand the waves of the Grand Line. It wasn’t something built to go for several days or harbor hundreds, thus it rocked in uneven motions, tossing the people who weren’t prepared for it back and forth. Compared to others, they were holding on just fine, with Koby’s hands gripping the side of the boat. He still couldn’t believe they had managed to convince him to come along. Maybe he was more stressed than he had realized over the situation.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” It wasn’t bitter, but he was pouting in a strangely young way, something to remind Helmeppo just how young the two of them were compared to others out here. He huffed.

“Don’t look so guilty and miserable about it. You’re acting like we kidnapped you at gunpoint or something.”

“You both threatened to, and I quote, carry me out here anyways. I don’t think I had much of a choice.” His smile was weary, small on his face. His goggles fell suddenly from a sharp rock and he steadied them back to the top of his head.

“Well, you needed to get out.” Helmeppo said. He nodded, agreeing with himself and propped up against the railing. Koby knew when he was fighting a losing argument, so he resigned himself to simply enjoy the quiet he would have before arriving.

The bar was definitely crowded with young, new faces that Koby had never seen before. Some older Marines, people he had seen around Marineford, were also there and nursing harder drinks in their reclusive corners. Garp and Helmeppo wouldn’t leave Koby alone, much to his own simmering annoyance. It wasn’t that he wasn’t unthankful nor wished for a lonely presence, but he did wish for some quieter drinking company. His own drink was fruity and light, something he could enjoy at least while he watched everyone around him continue to grow louder and louder.

Then, he spotted you.

It was a creeping feeling. A sudden realization that he had been staring at you as you laughed at something another person said, your own drink also being softly nursed with small sips. He didn’t even notice his staring or how he was acknowledging how you snorted into your hand when you laughed a little too hard until Helmeppo had noticed he was zoned out and no longer listening. Bending over his shoulder he looked over and grinned something broad and dangerous.

“Oh, spot you someone?” Koby jerked into a stiff seated position and quickly looked away from you, red burning across his cheeks. Garp’s attention was immediately dragged over when he tried to stutter an excuse, one that had Helmeppo smirking.

“What’s wrong? Got tongue-tied or something from a beautiful lady?” Garp slapped a hard hand onto Koby’s shoulder and his weaker drink was spilled, the shattering of the glass covered by the loud atmosphere of the crowd around. “I thought you learned how to talk to someone like that from me already. Or did you?” Garp shook his head and delivered another harsh slap, knocking him from the seat.

“Go talk to her.” Helmeppo said. “She doesn’t look like she’s here with anyone.”

Koby choked on a response to them and found himself urged away, shooed off with waves and hollering that followed his ever growing reddening ears. You were still where you were though, as they had said, you were alone. Whoever you had been talking to had moved on, perhaps to another face, and you were still nursing your own drink, twisting the straw that stuck out of it. You were dressed formally. No, not formally, but better than he was in his casual clothing that had been thrown to the back of his closet, almost forgotten about until this time. He felt underdressed compared to you and it made him hesitate even further. But the shame of what Garp and Helmeppo would do if he returned without at least attempting to speak to you far out-weighed any nerves of his attire, so he swallowed nerves down deep and approached you with the first thing he could say.

“I like the color of your shoes.”

He was doomed.

You blinked up at him in confusion, poised for a sip you would abandon in return for eyeing the man before you. Koby remained unmoving, hands sweating and flexing in his pockets as he tried to maintain some calm atmosphere about him.

Then you laughed.

“Well, I’m glad I suppose. I like them too.” You looked him over once, twice, then shifted on the seating you had been perched on. A bench, definitely meant for outside, had been pulled in. “Did you come over here to speak only about my shoes or….”

He definitely did not.

“I-I came over to talk to a pretty lady like you.” Garp would have been proud of his word choice, but the ever flustered Koby was slowly curling in on himself, turning away to hide his embarrassment. You found it charming. Cute, in a way, and masked your giggle around the rim of your cup.

“Well, aren’t you a charmer?” You asked. The teasing tone did urge him to look at you and you were so nice when you spoke. Up close like this he got to smell the perfume you had on, something sweet to lure him in a bit closer, which helped to ease up his nerves. “You look a little uncomfortable though. You sure that’s why you’re over here?”

Busted.

“I-It isn’t that I don’t want to talk to you. My friends just, ah, they saw me looking at you and just, well.” He choked and you fought your grin until he found his words. “They…wanted me to try talking to you.”

“I’m glad.” He blinked, looked you over once, then blinked again. “No, really. I promise, my friends dragged me out here too for some celebration I’m not even a part of. Or, well, I don’t want to be a part of.” You spared a glance to a gathered group of young, fresh faces to the far side and he followed it. They were drinking heavily, a few encouraging the others as fresh shots of something strong and smelly passed around. You lightly cringed around your own fruity drink, something Koby would have liked.

“You were dragged out too?” He relaxed a bit more then, finding you in a similar situation. “Well…guess we have no choice but to keep each other company then, right?”

Keeping each other company turned into a few drinks. A few drinks turned into a couple shots, bought by the beaming Garp who raised his own glass. And a few laughs and stories shared between the two of you turned into shoulders brushing. Then it turned into him helping you to a corner where there was less light to try and fix your shoe, which had broken when you stood to get a drink.

Then it turned into a drunken spur of the moment kiss that evolved into more than one.

Maybe he should have paid attention to the facts you spoke, but he hadn’t drank in a long time and it was definitely potent when it settled. These kisses you shared were sweet and warm. A breath of fresh air to the cold reprise of Marinfore, and he was sighing into them whenever you both broke apart. He was respectful of any boundaries you had and you were respectful that he was still intoxicated, so your touches were restrained. Held back to simply brushes of fingers on fingers, or fingertips touching at the shoulders or bottom of the kneecap. The kisses continued on, the sounds of the background falling apart, it all became too much and when you finally pulled back, head lightly spinning, a hand clasped onto Koby’s shoulder.

Garp.

“It’s getting late.” He stated, a gruff voice rough from his drinks and a couple of smoke breaks he had taken with others in the Marines. Koby blinked up at him in confusion before you seemed to put the pieces together. Garp was charming with his smile, but he was also aware of how late it had actually gotten. Koby seemed to want to disagree, but your hand on his wrist distracted him briefly as you agreed.

“You should head back. I have a few things to take care of tomorrow too.” You looked down at your person and frowned. “I…don’t have a way to communicate, but I could meet you back here tomorrow night? If that’s okay?”

That was more than okay in his eyes.

Then, nothing. He was on the rocking boat, listening to Helmeppo tease him about the “loving eyes” he had been shooting you, all blitzed out of his mind from his drinks, but he didn’t care. Garp didn’t speak much on anything, enjoying the cooler evening air and soft sounds of the Ocean. Then he was in bed, curled into his pillow and still remembering your perfume, the taste of your sweet drink on your lips, and how soft your hand was on his.

He slept with a smile on his face.

That smile would be abruptly taken the next morning, when he was dressed in uniform and standing at the end of a long lineup of people, all dressed in similar uniforms. They all looked similar. Young, fresh, and new to the Marines. Similar to how he had been long ago when he had first joined, except there was an issue. Standing in exactly row five, three to the left stood a familiar, equally shocked face.

You. There stood you, with your eyes wide and mouth partially open at the realization of what had happened the previous night. Helmeppo, thankfully, hadn’t recognized you or he would have never heard the end of it. Garp wasn’t there, busy with something else that these two were to handle.

‘Well.’ He thought, looking away with his ears a vibrant pink once again. ‘At least I won’t have to meet you there tonight.’

#one piece x reader #requests are open #one piece x y/n #requested #koby x reader #one piece koby

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talaok · 4 months

Text

Hot teach

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: you force Joel to go ice-skating

Warnings: none I think, just Joel being a touchy menace

A/n: I'm not gonna lie, I wrote this mostly for myself cause I went icekating today and a girl is obsessed and I couldn't help but wonder how it would have been with my man. also i do be a lil bit tipsy so forgive me if this isn't really all that great, i just wanted to write something cute to daydream about when im falling asleep

"oh c'mon babe you're not even trying!" you laughed, watching as he gripped the banister for dear life

"I am, trust me I am, this thing it's just hard" he grunted, almost falling in the process of trying to look at you

"Joel Miller" you stated, moving so you were in front of him "You've done harder things in your life" you said, raising an eyebrow, "now c'mon, take my hands and get away from there"

He sighed, looking down at those deathly ice skates attached to his feet

"darlin' if I die 'cause of this I'll be real mad"

"you won't die" you chuckled, holding out your hands for him "now c'mon, hold onto me"

And with great difficulty, and very very slowly, he managed to do it, he was finally away from the edge of the skate rink.

"there, see, wasn't that hard"

"I wouldn't say that exactly"

"oh shut up" you rolled your eyes "Now just like I taught you: bend your knees, then lift one foot, and try to gly"

You watched as he just stood there, looking at you uncertainly

"I'll be here the whole time, I won't let go" you promised, trying to calm his nerves

"sweetheart I don't know if I'm cut out for this type of stuff"

You smiled, reducing the distance between you

"You can do it, baby" you murmured, kissing his cheek "Just give it a try, trust me"

And so he did, almost falling, but he did nonetheless.

"there" you grinned "that was good"

"you ain't gotta lie now doll" he shook his head "Those kids over there are doing better than me" he joked, his eyes going to a group of 10-year-olds to your right

You couldn't help but laugh

"I meant for the first try" you explained "You just need a little practice"

That's how the next half hour passed: practicing.

He kept holding onto you as you skated backward to follow his movements while he moved towards you, and with time, he was even able to skate by your side, his hand still in yours and at a speed slower than a turtle's, but still, it was definitely an improvement.

Convincing him to go ice skating with you hadn't been an easy task, but (as always) you had done it. I mean, it was almost Christmas and they had built a big ice skating ring so close to your house, what else were you supposed to do but drag him to it?

"you're basically a professional" You smiled as you took a break, holding on to the edge of the rink

"absolutely" he laughed "I'm sure that kid I almost killed while falling would also agree"

"Oh yes" you giggled "I'm sure he would"

A moment passed, as you let the sound of laughter and Christmas music flow into your ears

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he murmured, his hand now holding your waist and making you face him

"where's that coming from?" you smiled, raising your hand to fix his hair, just for it to fall to his shoulder

"I've been thinking it all day, I was just a little preoccupied before"

"is that right?"

"sure is" he smirked, the distance between you now completely gone "You're hot when you teach me stuff, y'know?"

You laughed "Oh yeah?"

"yeah" he breathed, ghosting his lips "I've got the most gorgeous teacher in the world," he said, a moment before kissing you, like really kissing you, like it didn't matter that people and kids were all around you type of kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as his hands traveled lower to find your ass through your jeans.

"I know what you're doing mister" you purred, leaving a quick kiss on his lips again

"oh yeah and what's that?" he asked, not giving you time to answer before he was devouring you again, his tongue exploring your mouth ever so heavenly

"I'm sorry to break it to you Miller, but you aren't gerring out of this so easily" you smiled, crushing all his hopes "We've paid for another hour, and I'm not letting it go to waste"

"sugar c'm-"

"don't even try baby" You shook your head, leaving a soft kiss on his reddened nose "you still have a lot of practice to do" you smirked, "but hey at least you've got a hot teach"

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reqxxyt · 11 months

Text

pure

pairings: lewis h. x f!reader

warnings: none (?)

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited] w.c: 4k

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Its not going to work” you said, getting up from the edge of the bed that you were dragged out this morning, seeing Max pace around his room for the past half hour trying to get press off his back about rumours flying at him for dating a russian model.

“Hear me out” he tried to get you to listen to his suggestion but you were only half awake and groaned needing more sleep from your restless night. You paused in your steps turning to him, gesturing for him to explain quickly and he did “what if we pretended to date, the people already know you as my friend. It wouldn’t be that unbelievable and makes for a less interesting story”

“No” you simply stated not liking any percentage of his idiotic plan. He further begged you, trying to explain how this would be the only way to get them off his back. “What do I get out this?”

He thought for a moment not having thought before of how you could benefit from this deal, “you can travel with me” you rolled your eyes even at his option.

“What about my job, Max? I mean you just want me to drop everything for this?” your exasperated voice got to him as he took his own deep sigh, biting the corner of his lip.

“I just don’t know what else to do” his sad gaze only made you feel guilty, you walked forward.

“Fine, I will do it. But you have to reason with my boss on why I am out so much” his eyes filled with hope as he thanked you and reassured you that he would handle your work so you (hopefully) wouldn’t get fired at his expense. You tried pushing him back out the door, yawning in the process “Now leave, I need my sleep”

“I will text you all the details” he said before thanking you again and leaving you to go back to sleep before you could rethink this entire thing.

The next day you were already getting ready to leave for the Italian Grand Prix to make the debut of your fake relationship with Max. You finished stuffing the luggage, waiting for Max to pick you up. It only hit you that this was actually happening when you landed, seeing people already start to surround the entrance of the airport for the 2 time world champion that happened to be your best friend of 10 years.

“Don’t worry too much” Max attempted to calm you, squeezing your hand as he guided you threw the small crowded groups. Some recognized you, questioning why you two were holding hands while others had no idea who you were and just assumed you were together taking pictures, uploading them to be the first to tell others about it.

The newly announced girlfriend of Max Verstappen.

You two arrived at the hotel, thousands of notifications flooding your lockscreen as you attempted your best to ignore them deciding to just leave your phone on do not disturb for the following couple of hours.

“I better not regret doing this” you sighed, slumping down on the one of two beds of the room. You stared at the ceiling wondering if you had made a big mistake before turning to Max who seemed like this had little effect to him even though he was the one to suggest this plan in the first place. “Whats your plan for tomorrow?”

“Bring you to the paddock” he started, turning to you as you sat up when he sat next to you. “If there are any interview questions about you I will follow our story” the story you two made on the plane, very last minute. It was very similar to your actual friendship story, meeting at a karting event, became best friends and then developed feelings for each other (that part clearly being an addition) before getting together a couple of months ago.

“What about the drivers?” you asked, you had known most of them but spoke to very few; Charles being the driver you knew most.

“What about them?” he questioned back.

“Should I not talk to them?” you explained wondering if that would look bad on all parts if you and another driver were seen to be too friendly towards one another.

“You can speak to them, just don’t go flirting with each other in front of cameras” he explained as if it were the most obvious thing. You just nodded, following along trying your best to not overthink but Max caught on, placing his hand on top of yours. He gave you a small smile, not wanting you to feel overwhelmed “if it starts to be too much, say the word and we’ll stop”

“I’ll be fine” you tried saying but he gave you a doubtful look, “seriously, I just need to get used to it, is all. Its not like half of your fans that know about me don’t already think we have something going on”

He laughed at the mention, bringing back old memories of having to constantly remind others of their very much platonic friendship. Its become an inside joke between the two of them.

“I have to go meet with some people, you okay staying here?” he asked starting to get up from the bed. You nodded with a small smile already wondering what kind of room service this hotel offered. He nodded giving you one last smile before he shut the door behind him, leaving you alone.

The rest of the day was spent all day in the room knowing there was not much else to do but keep yourself entertained with the minimal things you were able to do. Max arrived well in the afternoon telling you all what happened that day and interviewers wouldn’t stop asking about you feeling proud that his plan was working.

The next morning, Max left much earlier than you seeing that he had his daily routine to get started on and his planning for practice with his team. You two agreed to meet each other at the entrance of the paddock hopefully without much press, but you already knew you would be having trouble the second you arrived seeing the flood of people holding cameras by the entrance.

With very long hesitation, you walked forward barely getting any space as all you heard were cameras clicking before you could spot Max, a light kiss on the cheek by him was enough to send another wave of camera flashes as you two went to the red bull garage.

“Not too much trouble?” he asked a bit worried as you got to the garage, you shook your head knowing it would just become the regular until things would settle down and they would have new topic by the next race to replace this with.

Max was called not to far afterward to get ready leaving you alone to situate yourself in the garage but not before he checked you were okay one last time.

“Has anyone seen George?” a soft english accent came front the entrance. You immediately recognized it as Lewis, looking up to see those dark eyes searching briefly in the garage as people shook their heads a bit confused as to how they lost a driver half an hour before the first practice.

“I think I saw him go into the cafeteria” you informed him catching his attention. His eyes showed a bit of interest seeing as he remembered seeing the news about you and Max.

“Thank you um” he tried to remember your name,

“Y/n” you said politely.

“Thank you y/n” he repeated with a soft smile before leaving to go find his teammate. Not too long after, the the first practice secession started, Max doing well, Ferrari appearing to do better than regular.

The rest of the weekend breezed by, Max being victorious just like last weekend with Checo being second. It was tradition at this point to go to the best club after a race and you tagged along wanting to converse with other drivers, it wasn’t every day that you got to talk to the people who are able to drive the fastest cars in the world.

You did get to talk to a couple seeing them all in different groups around the bar while you sticked with Max for a little over an hour.

“I’m going to get us some drinks” you said, inviting him to tell you if he wanted some but he didn’t say anything just nodding before going back to his conversation as you walked away.

You ordered a couple of shots, waiting on the drinks before you felt a presence sit beside you.

“I need some positivity after today, mind telling me how your day was?” his accent seeped through with a polite friendly smile. You faced him, a bit surprised over his approach. You felt a bit upset over the fact that he got 6th today seeing he was always so victorious only a couple of years ago.

“I think that would only make you feel much worse” you tried to sympathetically explain without making it sound too pitiful and he only laughed adjusting his seating to fully face you.

“So, you and Max?” he asked, eyebrows a bit furrowed as you were handed your drink. “How long now?”

“Almost a year” your finger grazed over the rim of the cup before taking a small sip. You felt the sudden need to tell someone the truth, and for some reason you found to trust Lewis the most in this scenario. Wow not even a week in and you wanted to tell the person next to you, you were terrible with secrets. “You want to know something?”

He hummed, leaning in interest as well as to drown out the music.

“Its all for the media, Max thought it would be a good idea to fake a relationship” you shrugged as if no big deal but you felt a sudden weight being lifted off of your shoulders.

“Really?” he was surprised at the news you had confessed finding it a bit strange how you trusted him after only just a couple of minutes but he felt content, seeing some small trust start to build that you felt you could trust him enough to tell him.

He would be lying to himself if he thought you weren’t attractive, you caught his eye the minute Max introduced you to the other drivers as his best friend, wanting to talk to you but never catching the space to. So when he received news that you were in a relationship with Max, he was a bit disappointed but knew not to try anything.

But now, he might actually have a chance.

“Yup, press can be very annoying” you rolled your eyes feeling like Lewis would be the one who understood the most even if you barely got a smidge of how they can act.

“Yeah, I remembered when me and my girlfriend broke up they wouldn’t stop asking about her” he said, sounding just as annoyed, holding lingering eye contact afterwards. He shrugged, “Some of the downsides of being a driver”

“One of the best, Mr. Humble” you teased and he only smiled thanking you for your compliment.

“You’re a fan?” he continued, lifting a corner of lips, a small smirk. You thought about it for a second,

“Oh for sure” you said as if it were the most obvious thing. “If i could wear your merch, I would show it to the world. I’ve watched you since I was 10”

The mention of the age gap made Lewis cringe a bit seeing as the two were near 15 years apart but he brushed it off, trying to not think too much about it.

“So how come the lack of merch?” his soft smile nearly reached his eyes, amused about how the girl he was interested in had been a fan since near the beginning of his formula one career.

“They’re all at home” you said a small smirk playing on your lips making him chuckle a bit, leaning forward but enough distance where it wasn’t too suspicious. “Wouldn’t look too good with being Maxs’ girlfriend”

“It seems hes not a very good actor with the way you two aren’t even together right now” he gestured over to Max. You laughed,

“Thats because I found myself being entertained somewhere else” you leaned a bit forward, being able to now smell his expensive cologne. Lewis notiabely flickered his eyes down to your lips before catching himself. But it was far too late, you’ve noticed and for an odd reason you enjoyed it.

But Maxs hand landed on your shoulder before things escalated making you tense as you leaned back nearly being caught, Max held a playful smile directing it towards Lewis who had his everyday polite smile on display acting as if he hadnt been practically flirting with the girl that is meant to be in a pretend relationship.

“How have you been?” Max asked Lewis, words a bit slurred from the alcohol. They talked for a while, Max wanting the conversation to extend but Lewis gave short answers, wanting it to end. You caught on pretty quickly giving Max a look before suggesting,

“Maybe we should leave, don’t want to stay too late. Have an early flight to catch” Max nodded along bringing his hand down saying a quick goodbye to Lewis. But the second you went to shake hands, he pulled you in for a quick hug, whispering an ‘see you next time’ sending shivers down your spine.

You two left hand in hand with Max into the hotel, crashing down on separate beds as you had a certain champion in mind.

The next two weeks were slow as news started to die down about you and Maxs’ relationship not seeing it as the hot topic anymore, casting you aside for another. The next race, Monaco you couldn’t help but cheer for the Mercedes driver, knowing how big of a deal it would be if he placed in the podium.

You exited the car, heading to the paddock seeing drivers pass by giving a quick wave politetly but when you crossed Lewis he gave you a larger smile than usual, calling out “meet me afterwards”, you agreed before getting to the Red Bull garage to meet up with Max.

This time, you only attended qualifying being too busy on Friday to have gone. You felt bad but Max reassured you it would be fine seeing as practice wasn’t as important to attend.

It was a good day for Red Bull, like always. Max being pole, Sergio second, and surprisingly Lewis third, you made a mental note to congratualate him on that factor later seeing as he had a better chance at getting a podium on the Monaco track.

Congratulations were heard all around the red bull as Max got to you, giving you a simple kiss on the cheek.

“Interviewers want you Max” his media manager came in, looking a bit worried as if she had interrupted something but he just nodded, following her outside leaving you to yourself. You thought this time would be the best to go congratulate Lewis, heading to the mercedes garage.

Before you even had to walk in, Lewis walked out seeing you, making his smile brighten. You walked to each other, immediately congratulating him and receiving the thank you.

“I got you this” he pulled out a purple beaded bracelet with a 44 in the middle. You were about to reject it seeing that it would bring too many questions but before you could, he held a stern tone saying, “I made it so you’re accepting it”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling it downwards before giving you another smile as his hand seemed to linger.

“I’m not insane right?” He asked, your eyebrows furrowed at the question not sure what he was implying. He hesitated before explaining “You’re interest in me”

“Lewis-“

“You don’t have to say anything right now” he jumped in. “I know the whole Max thing is complicated, I just” he paused, picking back up your hand, fiddling with the rings on your thumb, looking up at your eyes almost analyzing them in a sense. “I hope you’ll find me when you feel you need to”

His kiss on the bracelet did not help your heart to calm down, seeing it was running at a fast pace before he left. Your head was starting to get dizzy, growing almost a headache. You took in a deep breath, trying to prepare you for having to go back to the red bull garage.

“You and Lewis?” a concerned voice said, almost right next to you. Just as your heart started to go back to normal as well. You turned, expecting to see Max upset but instead he held a small teasing smile. “I remember when you wouldn’t shut up about him”

His words made you blush, a deep red rising to your cheeks as you hit him, not liking that he found it humorous but grateful that he wasn’t upset by it.

“Just be careful, I can’t have another scandal behind my back right after I just finished covering up the other one” his voice turned more serious and you only nodded, completely understanding that this could cause a deplete in both their careers.

The race wasn’t that exciting, seeing as those on the grid ended up in their almost exact spots. You still wore the bracelet, hiding it beneath a red bull jacket gifted by Max. He noticed it that morning and wouldn’t stop teasing you about it before he even grew annoyed of himself and stopped. Lewis on the other hand you didn’t get to see before the race with you having to be transported straight to the red bull garage upon arrival.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous during the entire race, fidgiting with the beads of the bracelet but all those nerves were settled the second the race ended and you got to see Lewis on the podium. The celebration settled down as Max was getting ready to leave with you waiting outside his room.

You suddenly felt a hand pull you, you looked to who had their grip so tight and saw Lewis dragging you into his room making sure to shut it behind you.

“What are you doing? Someone could’ve seen” your worried tone didn’t get to him as he stepped forward, only closing the gap between.

“I really needed to see you” his heavy breathing did some things to your body as he stepped forward. One of his hands went to the sides of where your jaw and neck met, analyzing your features for any sort of discomfort, anything that would tell him to stop but he couldn’t find it. Unknowingly, your lips parted, his eyes traveled to your lips as you couldn’t stop looking at his eyes.

“Tell me you want me, y/n. Just as much as I want you” he whispered, his breath near reaching your lips.

“I need you, Lewis. I need you so much it drives me insane-” his lips crashed into yours, his other hand reaching the other side of your face. The kiss was harsh, rushed, and overall the definition of eager. You wanted to desperately pull him in closer, wanting to close any gap that remained but instead your head ran the thoughts of the idea that Max brought.

The risk of their career reputation.

You pushed against his chest and he immediately pulled away, eyebrows furrowed.

“People are going to think badly of us if we’re even seen together. I can’t do that to us” you shook your head not trying to imagine the damage you could create by simply walking alone together. Lewis understood, nodding solely to himself.

“We could always give it a chance though” he shrugged, trying to give a suggestion. You hated how even when he wasn’t even trying to convince you, you still wanted to jump at the idea with little to no hesitation. He leaned down, touching foreheads as he whispered “we’ll be careful”

“This is so reckless” you couldn’t help but smile, an indicator that you were leaning to his side but he still waited for you to respond, “fine”

He smiled brightly, giving you a small kiss on the corner of your curved lip, and then another on the other side before placing a softer one in between before leaning back with a cheeky smile.

“Max is probably waiting for you” he finally stated making your eyes widen in realization before rushing out the door as he called out “i’ll see you next time”

During the entire break, you and Lewis would call on the phone sending good morning and well wishes to sleep texts practically everyday talking about how different it would be to be together without caring about what others thought.

The same pattern lasted throughout the season, you publicly cheering for your media boyfriend, while silently hoping the best for the person you longed for secretly, Lewis. Catch up in his room or hotel, share kisses and a night spent together before having to depart and doing it all over again for the next race.

You as well told Max only a couple of months later, only saying he already knew. He was your best friend, how could he have not noticed the way you and Lewis look for each other in a room and beam smiles at each other when you spot one another.

“I think we should break up” were words only Max could say that wouldn’t completely break you but you still only gave him a confused look as you laid on your stomach scrolling through you feed only seconds ago before Max barged in your apartment.

You really regret ever giving him a spare key.

“I mean, its been long enough and the whole Lewis thing is getting a bit reckless, no?” he asked knowing about almost having been spot by security when you went to go to Lewis drivers room, covering it as a lie of looking for him because Max wanted to speak to him. You got up from you position agreeing.

“But its not like it would help with Lewis, it would only make it worse to go public” you were still worried over their reputation.

“You two can keep it a secret for however much you want to, I just don’t want to feel like I am interfering between you” he explained. You followed along.

“I think this is the most happiest I’ve been about someone breaking up with me” you joked with a small smile making him chuckle. “Thank you Max”

“No worries” he gave you one last kiss on your head before going on his phone to publicly announce the breakup. You texted Lewis, making sure it was alright and he only appeared delighted seeing as you and him could finally go public in time.

The next couple of months were quiet as news settled down about you and Max. You wanted more time to pass before ever trying to go public but when Lewis suggested it, cuddled up and you were half asleep you mumbled a “sure” and you only fully realized what you had just done after you woke up from your nap.

Most fans were delighted of the relationship, some found it a bit strange but seeing you still close with Max after the ‘break up’ gave them the theory that the entire thing with Max was for media.

And unlike that, yours and Lewis’ relationship was pure.

#lewis hamilton #f1 #f1 x you #f1 reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #reader insert #formula 1 #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine

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nathanielzalexandria · 1 year

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Fannon Steve Harrington is such a "you never asked so I never explicitly said (because I thought it was a known fact/obvious and I wasn't hiding it and I did mention it)" girlie and I appreciate it...

So here's some rambly angst.

The fall of 1984 was an absolute fucking nightmare for Steve. He had no friends, no girlfriend and no parents and the upside-down returned. To be fair, by simply choosing to be and stay with Nancy after last year was the main reason why most of his friendships by virtue of Steve pulling away. Nancy cheating on him and then leaving him for Byers crushed his soul and self-esteem but he should have seen it coming when he returned to school after missing a week to attend his parents funeral and she didn't acknowledge any of that, only focusing on the guilt eating at her from hiding Barbs death from her parents. It had crossed his mind to bring it up to Nancy what was going on in his life but... when they died in that accident it was all over the news and he had told her he was going to Italy to bury his parents.

His father Aidan Harrington, an Irish Hawkins born, was a famous international operatic tenor. It was during the production of La Traviata that his father met his mother Emilia and their romance and careers grew from there. They eventually got married and had their baby Stefano Harrington. So for the first few years of life he travelled with them to different productions until they eventually settled down into semi retirement until he turned 14.

It was Steve that pushed his parents to get back into opera once he entered high school. He was old enough to take care of himself and he had a phone so he could call every night. So when they died in a car accident on their way from the Opera house in Italy, Steve in that moment couldn't help but blame himself for their death. The crash was plastered over screens and the papers as the music community mourned heir loss and the funeral in Italy doubly so -now with his face attached. And for that week, he didn't cry

He had expected when he returned some acknowledgement of the event but, other than one band geek with the curly hair, that did not happen. So he did what he did best, ignore it and go to a party with Nancy on Halloween. Then everything with the upside down unfolded and there was no time.

By the time he returned from the hospital to his empty home, he broke down. He was now completely alone with no support system. Its probably why he reached out to Owens for a therapist. If it wasn't for Dr Kelly... Steve wasn't sure if he might have stayed around long enough to meet Robin and he certainly would not be around to save Eddie...

Which is how he ended up here.

In the hospital.

In a hospital bed and the rest of the party stuffed into the room.

El and her group had arrived at the hospital half an hour before and were exchanging stories from the past few days. Apparently, El was kidnapped, had regained her powers and was able to stop Vecna with the help of the guy with the amazing silky hair. Steve just watched them from the bed, trying not to move too much

"Xiomaro Argyle. But I prefer Argyle, dude" the man with the long silky hair introduced himself to Steve. somewhere in the background, Steve hears someone say, "his name is Xiomaro?"

"Stefano Harrington, but everyone calls me Steve," he replied. One of the kids echoed Stefano.

He hadn't expected Argyle's response. "Wait -like that opera couple my yaya always listens too? What were they called?"He paused as he racked his brain before snapping. "Adrian and Emilia, right? My grandma was crushed when they died in that car crash. She light's a candle for them every Dios de los Muertos. Sorry about that bro."

And at that, Steve's world froze, because this was the first person other than his parents to say those words to him. He quickly wiped the tear from his eye before the other's could see. He hadn't realised that the room had quieted.

"YOU'RE PARENTS ARE DEAD?" Dustin yelled.

Steve barely had the chance to speak when Nancy cut in, angry, for some reason.

"When did this happen and why didn't you say anything? Jesus H Christ, you're always hiding from your feelings like some macho idiot and you neve confront anything!"

Nancy had continued to berate him but Steve zoned out. Chest feeling tight with the boiling anger growing behind his sternum.

"I. did." He interrupted simply.

"No you didn't."

"I did because

You were still my fucking girlfriend at that time and it would be shitty of me not to tell you

I had to go to Italy to bury them at my mother's family cemetery according to their will. It would be wrong if I didn't tell my girlfriend I was going to be missing a week of school and why. Which I did the night I learnt about their death and I came by your house."

Nancy faltered a bit at that, losing some of her righteous fury, but she pressed on. "I would remember something like that, Steven"

"No you wouldn't. The same way you can't seem to remember that my name is Stephano and not Steven even though I told you that and it was all over my stuff home."

Her mouth clicked shut at that and an embarrassed blush covered her face. On a normal day, he would have stopped there and maybe vent to his therapist but he was still raw from the past few days and Nancy toying with his emotions only to forget about him once Johnathan came back.

"Okay, let's say I didn't tell you. My parents' death was everywhere including their funeral and you didn't see it although you always read the papers. I was not in the country for a week, which meant I was not at home for a week, and thus not in school for a week and you didn't notice that I your then-boyfriend just disappeared? You didn't think to question where I was, if you did notice, when I got back?"

There was no answer. He couldn't stop the bitter laugh from bubbling up

"Fuck. You really weren't paying attention to me? I just thought you were feeling guilty about barb and trying to fix things for her parents which is why you didn't say anything. Not just that I registered so low on your list of importance that my words just flowed into one ear and out the other."

He was getting worked up and his therapist would be disappointed that he didn't stop there. "And what about the rest of you? You saw my parents and just what? Assumed they abandoned me or something?"

The silence was now suffocating, and Steve could not stand their ashamed looks at each other.

"And none of you asked me any questions about it?

"You know what? Fuck you, Nancy! You're standing there on your pedestal, calling me a "macho idiot" that I'm hiding from my feelings as if I would have had anyone to talk to seeing that you and Johnathan avoided me once you started dating. Newsflash! That's why I have a fucking government therapist I see every Wednesday since 84!"

He let the last statement hang heavy in the air like the sword of Damocles over the group before deflating and flopping back In his hospital bed, emotionally spent. Eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Everyone, just... just leave."

He waited until he thought he heard everyone leave and looked back down, startled when he saw that Eddie was still in the room.

"Don't be too hard on the shitheads for too long. For all their collective intelligence they are still a pack of idiots too sure of themselves to not consider that surface-level Steve is all that exist."

Steve said nothing to that, already feeling shitty for blowing up on the kids, and a little less shitty about blowing up on Nancy.

"Anyway, you also seem to forget that I wished you condolences that week so maybe yoy should not be too hard on them."

At that, Steve focused on Eddie, wracking his brain and being confused with its results.

"You were a band kid?" Steve asked incredulously

Eddie lazily shrugged, "It was a phase. Now, seeing that it seems that you have it on your chest heavy enough that just hearing their names almost made you cry; tell me about your parents, Stevie."

In Steve's chest, he felt something... Flutter.

--------------------------------------------------

This one got away from me, but this is all I have. This is slightly inspired by a post I saw from piratefishmama about Steve having good parents and everyone just assumed they were bad people even though they never asked him any questions (it's deleted; don't look for it). And don't ask me why they are opera singers my brain just latched onto that being their profession and why their death was everywhere.

#this is the moment Steve falls in love with Eddie #outside the room Johnathan is trying to get back into argyle's good graces because argyly isn't happy Johnathan was such a bad friend #Nancy is reassessing her relationship with Steve and is catatonic #Robin and the party are trying to figure out what to do to make it up to steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #just thoughts

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soobnny · 1 year

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imagine (a world like that) — yang jeongin.

trope. exes to not so lovers. bittersweet ending. a story of first loves. jeongin is an idol here.

synopsis. a trip back to busan on his break reunites jeongin with his first and only love — and it has him wondering, if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?

word count. 3k words

warnings. none, just on the angsty bittersweet side

note. been wanting to write a first love reunion fic for a while (the 1 cameo and a line inspired from everything everywhere all at once). thank u to yun for instigating my terrible thoughts my 4lyfer and to ten for the Beautiful header ur massive big brain talent

Yang Jeongin stands on the train platform, cheeks colored red from the gust of the winter wind that greets him at the station.

He pulls his scarf closer to his nose.

When he decided to travel home by train, he didn’t anticipate it would take three and a half hours to arrive. On normal days, the travel towards Busan from Seoul usually ranged from 2-3 hours, but it took longer than usual due to the snow.

Jeongin doesn’t spend a long time in the station, opting to blend in with the chatter of people around him as he swiftly makes his way to the streets of Sujeong-dong. It’s still snowing, but he doesn’t seem to mind the snowflakes littering his hair and eyelashes.

Instead, he looks up at the sky, trying to see where the snowfall is coming from.

It rarely snows in Busan as it’s located in the least snowy region of Korea, but Jeongin is grateful for the gentle drizzle of white and the cold that’s just enough to leave visible puffs of warm breath when he sighs.

In his pocket, his phone is buzzing with the screen flashing a picture of Chan, probably to ask if he arrived home safely as he hasn’t had the time to send a quick text to their group chat.

Pulling a glove off, he slips his hand in the pocket of his coat, swiping right on the phone call. And it seems his hypothesis is correct when concerned spews bounce off of his phone’s speakers, Chan speaking at an unusually fast pace you’d be convinced he was the main and lead rapper.

He smiles fondly at the obvious care dripping from Chan’s tone, immediately informing the eldest member he had arrived well and intact (with a little teasing) before hanging up the call shortly after.

Jeongin moves through his hometown slower than usual in contrast to his busy, bumbling schedule the past year. He concedes to time, grateful to just be able to slow down for a second and appreciate the gentle snow and the cold breeze without shifting his attention every second.

Knowing his family would arrive home a little later in the day, Jeongin doesn’t feel the pressure to reach a destination right away. Instead, he lets his feet and mind wander to where they felt like going.

He should’ve known himself better to not be surprised at where he’s landed himself in.

On a different day, a few years back, Jeongin could still remember the feeling of a hand gently intertwined with his and the sound of starry laughter on the exact same path.

The memory leaves a foreign feeling in his chest.

Walking up the stairs to occupy a seat on the second floor of the traditional teahouse, Jeongin feels a gust of wind knock straight into his sternum at the sight that greets him. He isn’t to blame. This is the first time he’s seeing you after your teary goodbye’s a few autumns ago, and you seem just as surprised to see him.

He still remembers you as you were when you ended things. Your eyes were strong, but grief persevered in your irises as you told him you understood. Besides, you had been there to hold his hand through every audition, and you knew more than anyone how much he wanted it and how hard he worked towards achieving it.

So, you learned to trade your love for his dreams.

That day, as leaves fell from the trees, so did both of your hearts.

“Jeongin?” Your lips pull into a short smile, although it grows wider the moment you’re able to discern that this moment was real and Yang Jeongin was actually standing a few feet away from you. You could recognize those eyes anywhere.

“Hi.” He remains unmoving as he drinks you in, everything about you down to your movements. Your hair’s a little shorter now, and you preferred a different shade of lipstick.

All he can think about at this moment is how you look so pretty smiling, and how your lips must be so cold from the winter.

“Your hair’s black again. It’s nice.”

His hair is back to its original color, after dyeing it multiple times for comebacks and events, and it falls just above his eyes (with some strands moving past). It’s longer, and he can’t find himself to dwell on your compliment at the thought that you knew his hair wasn’t black before he came home.

A small, shy laugh leaves his lips as he scratches the back of his head. “Figured it needs a little rest before the company decides to dye it again.”

You mirror his laughter — that same starry sound that held light whenever you laughed, the same one Jeongin fell in love with.

You find it humorous how most of your conversations in this teahouse had held frustrations over your highschool, but now he was talking about his company and his hair he never thought to dye years ago.

“Would you like to sit with me?” You’re looking at him with your thoughtful eyes as you gesture the space across from you. On normal simpler days, he would’ve simply made his way towards the seat next to yours — but now you’re considerate enough to ask if he was even allowed to be sitting with you. That maybe you’d be caught and his image would be ruined.

Jeongin’s rushed to decide whether to pass on your offer or pull you back into his life (even if it was just for a few minutes). He finds it isn’t much of a difficult decision as he makes his way to your table, sitting comfortably by the window. He plants himself on the same ground that had given him so many treasured memories with you and that had taught him of hard lessons when he had to let you go.

Jeongin scolds himself for allowing himself to fall right back into you, not that his feelings had ever left. The bitter taste of heartbreak has always sat at the back of his throat, but it has always been easy to hide behind his busy schedules.

Under the guise of time, he convinces himself he’s moved on. Besides, it’s been years since you both said goodbye.

Time is cruel, and it is also one of the biggest liars.

“How have you been?”

You’re well aware it’d only take a five second search to find out what he’s been doing and what his group was up to, but you were genuinely curious to know how he’s feeling about everything.

It’s not like life teaches you to handle fame and pressure at such a young age paired with the peering and judging eyes of strangers who seem to want you more than anyone before.

People were never meant to grow up in such a cruel manner.

Your question snaps him out of his self-pity, but the genuineness in how you ask him has his heart twisting in the most painful way possible. He doesn’t know if the feeling is of love or of grief.

Jeongin doesn’t know how to respond either. He feels the crack in his facade widen, and all he wants is to run in your arms and cry and tell you how difficult it’s been and how horrible it is to forget how your hug feels like.

Instead, he settles with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He doesn’t think he has the right to hold you without your permission anymore.

“I’ve been good.”

His response is genuine. He couldn’t possibly wish for anything else — he was grateful for the opportunity to chase his dreams, for the 7 boys he crafted a family with, for the genuine love and support from so many people all around the world.

When he thinks back at the years, he feels eternally grateful, despite the exhaustion. It just sucked that the universe didn’t have a place for you in all that.

You push him to tell more stories, especially of his world tour, and he tells you how much more humid it is in the United States, or how lovely it is to walk around Japan, or how big the serving size of food is in Europe. He tells you of blue skies and loud screams and how fun it is to perform on stage.

What he doesn’t tell you is how much you would’ve loved to experience all that too. How much more fun it would’ve been if you were by his side.

He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on the thought too much. God knows how many nights he’s spent alone with the same questions of what if’s.

“And you? How have you been?”

“I’ve been good too. College feels a little repetitive, but somehow I’m grateful for that.” You hum, sipping at your tea before settling it back down neatly on the table.

An indefinable look flashes on Jeongin’s face when you mention college.

Within seconds, he looks everywhere in the room but you as he nods his head. He doesn’t tell you he doesn’t want to meet your eyes for the fear of seeing the life that could’ve been with you if he hadn’t forgone with his dream.

“You know… I’m so proud of you, Jeongin. I never had the chance to tell you before, but I’m so so proud. You’re so big now, I can’t even hug you anymore.”

His name sounds different falling from your mouth because it holds so much history.

I.N. is two letters he goes by now, but to you, he was still Yang Jeongin — the kid you grew up with, and the boy you end up falling in love with down the line. He wasn’t just a noun that followed a group’s name. He was much more than that.

He was your Yang Jeongin, the boy who defended you from towering bullies, the boy who hugged you as you cried on his shoulder, the boy who held your hand when you were afraid.

And maybe that, paired with the statement of you being proud, is the reason why his lungs twist and his eyes water a little. You’re tempted to reach out for his hand that’s resting on the table, but opt out of it.

“Greatness and success has always been waiting for you, and I’m so happy to see you’ve finally met it.”

There is nothing but truth behind your words. So many restless nights have led him to this moment, and you couldn’t be more happy. You’ve always known on the invisible string that tied Jeongin to success.

“I just wish you’d been there to meet it with me.”

His voice is just above a whisper as he stares down at his lap. You had always played a big role in his self-confidence. When he came to you in the form of a flightless bird, you taught him how to spread his wings so wide that he could finally fly.

“I’ve always been with you. Maybe not in the way you want, but I’ve always been there.” You break a smile, leaning forward against your will to finally tap his hand gently. “And I will always be there.”

His lips twitch, and he moves closer, craving for more of your touch — the touch he’s missed, the one his memory has so carelessly forgotten. You know by the way he stares at your hands that he got the message.

You both don’t say much after that. You simply enjoy your tea with each other’s presence, looking out at the pretty view from the window.

And this moment makes Jeongin so happy. Something as ordinary as sipping tea in the quiet with someone he’s fond of. Something as ordinary as the gentle snowfall in Busan, and the pretty view of the sun slowly starting to set beneath the mountains.

It’s new. But he likes the quiet, and he likes the peace, and he likes being home and having you as company.

He allows himself the time to recollect the moments he had with you in the same stout table with the same pillows on the wooden ground. It’s funny, looking back now, how the sound of your voice and the look in your eyes are no longer the ones with child-like wonder in them, but that of two people who had made it far down the line.

Jeongin’s trip back to Seoul in a few days will strip him of the chance to do ordinary things like this with you again, and the coming months and years will be one of loneliness again — despite being around people who loved him.

A part of him wishes you hadn’t asked him to sit down with him. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to relive the grief. He wouldn’t be left to wonder if your lips feel the same as a few autumn’s ago?

He doesn’t want this moment to feel like a distant memory in the years to come too. Will he forget the feeling of your hand gently tapping on his again?

“It was nice seeing you again, Jeongin.”

He lets his gaze drift back to your face, and in your transparent eyes, he sees the same grief persevering. “You’re leaving already?”

“I have classes tomorrow. I’m sorry.”

If you didn’t know him so much, you wouldn’t have noticed the way his eyes fall a little and how his smile grows a little stiff at the mention of you leaving.

You make your way to where he’s seated, and you ask if it’s okay to hug him, and he responds by gathering you in his arms like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it again (because he knows it will be… at least for a long time).

He hugs you with the prospect of memorizing the feeling of your arms around his body and your fingers rubbing gentle circles on his back and your face that fits so perfectly on his neck. There’s a pained look on his face that wants to solicit tears but he doesn’t allow himself to.

He doesn’t want your last memory of him to be teary-eyes.

Jeongin pulls you in his lap and leans back against the window, burying his face deep in your hair and hoping his memory won’t betray him this time.

His back is pressed against the glass, and if anyone were to walk by right now, they’d see him and your silhouette bunched up in his arms but he doesn’t seem to care about any of that right now.

All he cares about is your warmth and how close you are to him right now.

When you move to pull back, he whispers “one more second” as he grabs you back by the arm and presses you against his chest one more time.

His throat itches to tell you he loves you, but doesn’t think he can bear the response he’ll hear from you — whether it was an ‘I love you’ back or not. Especially when he’s leaving again and living an entirely different life than what could’ve been.

In the background, he can make out the high-pitched whistle of the kettle making tea, and the footsteps of customers flooding the teahouse. But all he can focus on is your heartbeat flush against his.

If he closes his eyes, Jeongin can picture himself with his gray hoodie you love so much, and his messenger bag from high school — walking you back and forth to your classes. Maybe he’ll join a sports team in your college, maybe he’d be in the dance program. He can picture himself kissing you again and again so freely, and hugging you just like this.

On his side of the world is life filled with so much opportunity, and everyday is loud like fireworks and extravagant and he could get whatever he could’ve ever wanted, but he finds himself wanting to stay a little longer in your side — where it’s quiet, where he can do the ordinary, where he’s just Jeongin.

When you finally let go from your hug, there’s a stifling silence as you walk to where the stairs are. But before you can make it far, Jeongin’s voice cuts through the winter breeze.

“(Name)?”

“Hm?” You look back one more time.

He breathes in and out.

“In another life, I would’ve really liked going to college with you, just holding your hand and… doing ordinary things.” He confesses quietly, but no matter how soft and vulnerable and shaky his voice is, you can still hear him.

You smile at him, albeit bittersweet.

“I would’ve really liked that too.”

You hope you were able to tell him everything that you needed to, and he hopes you can see in his eyes that he still cares for you deeply, and he will always care for you this much.

There is a sharp feeling in his chest when you finally descend from the steps, and a cry is brewing at his throat waiting to erupt when you’re no longer able to hear him. There is only so much he can do when you’re walking out of his life again.

It has always been his fate to go after his dreams, and it has always been in your fate to let him go.

The teahouse gives him another hard lesson. Perhaps his grief and love was always meant to coexist. That Jeongin can love his life right now, but still grieve over the life he didn’t get to live with the people who are no longer traveling beside him. Maybe it was always meant to be like this.

But he knows, from the way you looked at him for the last time, that there will always be a place in the world that’s waiting for him — not Stray Kids I.N., but just Yang Jeongin. That even when he falls in exhaustion and is stripped off of everything that’s shaped him to be desired by the public, he would still be loved and wanted.

Someone from home will always be waiting for him.

Your distance grows, and all Jeongin can do is stare at you long enough so he can brand you in his memory.

He begs the universe to be a little kinder to the both of you in your next life.

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thebunnyslibrary · 7 months

Text

In The Woods Somewhere

summary. You go into the woods to take some photos...but find him instead

characters. Vampire!Bucky x Reader

word count. 4.8k

warnings. Dub!Con, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Stockholm-ish, mentions of violence/blood.

BunBun's Spoop-tober Collection Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Finally, your big break. You were finally getting the chance to publish a collection of your photos of haunted locations around New England with a real publishing company. Your final location was an abandoned church in the woods; thought to have been used by an early group of colonizers until it and the nearby settlement had been abandoned. No one knew for sure what had happened. Perhaps the colonizers had moved on? Maybe they were wiped out by plague? There was even a dark story of a minister who had started murdering villagers that were “unclean;” allegedly filling the church pews with corpses with slashed and bloody necks. Doing research on places before you took photos was one of your favorite parts; gathering information for the captions and essays you wrote to go with the photos.

After your parents had died while you were in college, it had left you feeling empty and directionless for some time. Then, after finally finishing your degree, you decided to use the money your parents had left you to buy a van and photograph the world.

You’d been working as a traveling photographer for a while now, doing gigs like weddings and events. You’d also managed to self-publish a few books and tried to sell your photos and art where you could. It wasn’t much but it kept you in gas money and beef jerky. You’d been all over North America and a few parts of South America. You were hoping to go international for a follow up book if this one was a success.

You pulled up to the walking trail that led into the forest. You had about an hour’s hike into the woods; knowing getting the shots at sunset would create perfect photos. You shrugged on your backpack with your supplies and with your camera case hand, headed off. The trees were washed in the golden hue of fall, starting to shed their leaves in preparation for their long winter sleep. A slight chill hung in the air but after 3 months of heat and humidity you were ready to be cold for a little bit.

Sometimes you listened to music when you hiked but today you’d decided to relish in the sounds of the forest.. Bird calls echoing off the trees, the rustling of the trail as you walked, squirrels and other small critters gathering their own winter supplies. A flock of geese calling out as they flew in v formation overhead and you quickly snapped a picture. Traveling and photography had given you an entirely deeper appreciation for nature and it’s beauty. An hour later, you stepped into the clearing where the church was set.

It was a small chapel, probably only fit to hold 10 or 15 people. Most of the eastern wall had crumbled while the others were still partially there. Only one or two (maybe one and a half) benches were left; but you weren’t too sure about actually sitting on them. Still completely intact though, was the Archway that must’ve bene the entrance. Above it, was a bell; likely used to let the nearby colonizers know that church was starting. But on the bell was an inscription that could no longer be read. The language appeared to be Latin, but the words had been lost to time. You were raising your camera to take a picture, when a soft voice startled you

“Hi.” You turned suddenly and you were staring into crystal blue eyes. You jumped back but kept your eyes fixated on his. A man, maybe a little older than you had been standing right behind you.

“Oh! Uh…hi!” you said, blinking and taking more of him in now. Dressed in a black jacket over a fitting gray tee-shirt, dark jeans clinging to his legs, and silver rings adorned most of his fingers on his right hand. His left hand was hidden by a leather glove. His hair was pulled back in a man bun and a single ruby on a black chain hung from his left ear.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I was just coming up the trail and I called out to you.” His voice was soft, with a hint of an eastern European accent, making a slight shiver go through you.

“Sorry, I suppose I didn’t hear you.”

“No worries, I’m James. But my friends call me Bucky” He reached out his hand for yours, taking it and telling him your own name. “I’m surprised to see someone else this far out in the woods.

“I’m here to take pictures.” You explained. “It’s a beautiful structure…what’s left of it anyways.”

“How interesting.” He said. “Are you a professional?”

“Well, sort of. I’m actually just finishing my first collection to be published. ‘New England’s Haunts and Its Future.’ I’m including the church with a piece on New England puritanism and its effects on today’s bigotries.”

He smirked. “I like it. I’ll have to make sure I order a copy of your book.” You both laughed. “You know the old England had some haunts too. All of Europe, in fact. Plenty of old spooky castles. You should definitely see them.”

“If my book goes well maybe.”

“Have you ever had your work in a gallery?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, no. I’ve had my art displayed in some cafes here and there, but not much else.”

“Pity, you seem passionate about your work, it must be nice.”

“I’d call it nice, maybe good.” You beamed. “I’d actually like to get a few shots in, if you don’t mind. I can talk a little while I work though.” There was something about him. He unnerved you, if only slightly. But you also didn’t want him to leave. You wanted him to stay with you.

The two of you walked through the archway to stand on the overgrown stone floor, flowers and dandelions peeking through the cracks. As you walked up what used to be aisle and could almost make out where the other pews had been. Maybe it was the sunset, maybe It was your imagination, but along the floor, the stones seemed eerily stained red.

Again, Bucky’s closeness startled you, but this time, you seemed frozen to the floor.

“You know, darling. There’s one thing I’d love. Could you take a picture of me under the archway? It would make for a great dating profile picture.” He winked at you. And you felt your face warm up.

“Sure, why not.” You focused your camera on him and his eyes seemed to flash red at you. You gasped before snapping the button, but only cursed and brushed it off as red eye-syndrome. You took one more picture and this time, it seemed normal. You pulled it away and waited as the picture loaded. Your book would hopefully lead to some newer equipment. Bucky stood behind you suddenly, but again you were frozen to place; only this time with his chest firmly against his back.

As the picture loaded on the screen, your stomach dropped. The picture was empty. the archway was still in there. But Bucky wasn’t.

You turned around and his smile was downright predatory. Revealing two pearly white fangs. But his eyes, they were bright crimson red.

“That’s…. those can’t be real…your eyes, your teeth…” you said, feeling your heart drop into your stomach

“Oh, my darling. They are ALL too real…little girls like you should know better than to go out after sunset.” You should be running, fighting back, anything. But you can’t. You’re staring into his deep red eyes and you can’t move. “No, printsessa. I can’t have you running away. Not when you smell so delightful.” His arms wrapped slowly around your waist, pulling you closer to you. “Not to mention how beautiful you are. You are exactly what I’ve been searching for.” He whispered in your ear. Before you could blink, you felt a sharp pain in your neck and the world went dark.

You awoke in a soft bed, softer than anything you’d felt before. A bed, but you’d been… Oh fuck… You shot upright quickly as you remembered what happened. What greeted you was a dimly lit room. A wall of immense windows letting the moonlight stream in while a fire roared in the fireplace. Low lamp light gave let you see to see immense bookshelves lining the rest of walls. You started to panic. That freak had knocked you out, now you were in some cabin somewhere. You were still wearing the same clothes, but you had no clue where you were.

“My my, finally awake. I suppose I did drink a bit more than necessary. But I just couldn’t help myself. You were just absolutely delicious.” You looked and saw Bucky. He’d been sitting by the fire until he stood up and moved towards the bed. You could see he was wearing black t-shirt and sweatpants, but what you hadn’t seen before…was his metal arm. His hand had been covered by the glove, but now you could see the moonlight glinting off it. You caught yourself staring and remembered what had happened last time you’d stared at him.

“What did you do to me you sicko?” You lowered your eyes to the floor, trying to move out of the bed without tripping. You heard him chuckle.

“What’s wrong baby doll, you don’t wanna to look at me? “

“No! I just wanna go home. Please.” You tried to be strong but you were trembling as you tried to keep your eyes low enough. You desperately searched for anything sharp or heavy, settling on the lamp and reaching to pick it up, but before you could, you found yourself pinned face down on the bed, your arms trapped behind you. You struggled against him, but he hardly moved. His voice in your ear.

“Poor little bunny. You know what really happened. Or do you need a reminder?” You felt something scrape against your neck. Fangs.

“That’s…. you’re not…”

“Oh, but I am doll. And I don’t think I’ve found anything I’ve ever wanted more in my centuries of living.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Your trembling is so adorable baby girl. It makes me want to ravage you until you cry for me.” His hand wandered down to your jeans and your breathing turned shallow. There was an ache deep between your thighs that wanted to call out for him, but you were still scared of what he’d done.

“No, I won’t have my beloved scared of my touch.” He said, gently pressing a kiss to your neck before moving to help you stand up. Your legs were much wobblier and you found yourself leaning against him. You stared at his chest and quietly spoke. “Bucky, please. Where are we?”

“We’re at my cabin. I’d like to show you around; as this is to be your home too. If you promise to behave.” Deep down, you still felt petrified. But an inner voice said that if he had already wanted you dead, you would be. Besides, you hadn’t noticed before, but something about his smell was so enticing to you. Cinnamon and smoke, with a slight…metallic underlay.

“If…If I go with you willingly…will YOU keep it that way?” you asked, trying to sound firm. You could hear the amusement in his voice.

“I see my little bunny can stand her ground. No, I will not control you that way like before.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head to look at him. His hair was still pulled back into a loose bun, moonlight casting shadows on his sharp cheekbones led down into full lips. And those eyes. You would never forget the deep red color before he drank from you. Now instead they were crystal pools. As unending as the sky. Like you could stare forever. But you blinked away, acknowledging he had kept his promise. You moved away from him and instead toward the windows.

“If you are…a vampire…why the windows? I thought you were supposed to avoid natural light.” He chuckled. And walked a normal pace now to stand next to you as you both stared out into the forest.

“Any creature can be exposed to too much sun. We just have much a lower tolerance limit. I have heavy black out curtains for the day…but I cannot find it in myself to give up this view.” He pointed up towards the stars. You didn’t think you’d ever seen so many. But a rumble of thunder off in the distance caught your attention you saw flashes of lightning. A storm was moving in soon, and you could feel your resolve to escape crumble slightly. Where could you go in a storm?

“How exactly…did you become…?” you asked, hesitantly, not wanting to upset him and trying to focus on anything other than his closeness. You’d always thought trying to…humanize…your enemy so to speak was supposed to help keep you safe. He smiled.

“A vampire…Well, I would imagine you know how.” He chuckled and you found yourself chucking as well. “Where Romania is now, I was a simple farmer. Goats mostly. Then one night, a creature attacked our village.” He paused. “Killed my sister. I tried to fight back, and something about that… He changed me instead of killing me. Figured it was some cruel punishment, killing everyone I knew and loved and leaving me alone.” You felt your heart tug. As if sensing your sadness, he turned and shook his head.

“Don’t worry too much about it, I got my revenge. Afterwards I stayed low, kept to myself for a few centuries. Until the world erupted into war. I refused to keep to myself. That’s how I lost my arm. When the Germans found out what I was; they tried to use my powers to make more. They took my arm to see if they could clone me. Then they gave me this one and tried to turn us into a weapon of war. Only their plans backfired. They couldn’t control them. They eventually all killed each other…at least the ones I didn’t kill first.” He was quiet for a moment and you almost started to panic. But he let out a sigh.

“After the war, I settled here. Made my home, invested some wise money, now I have a little peace.” He turned to you. You felt your heart ache for him. “But I have waited so long for something so enticing as you.” He started to move closer, but you still were nervous, taking a step back.

“Wait uhm... I thought you wanted to show me around.” You reminded him, trying to distract him. He smiled and let out a deep sigh.

“I suppose I did. Well, you’ve seen the bedroom and its extensive library. But there’s an even bigger one downstairs. Come.” He took your hand with his metal one and led you towards the door. You felt less scared following him now; you still could feel yourself wanting to resist and struggle. But he was holding your hand too tightly.

As the two of you toured through the large Tudor cabin (mansion, it seemed), you took note of the art on the walls. Beautiful photographs of places around the world; paintings you wanted to stare at for hours; Bucky having to pull you away from a particularly intriguing work from the Harlem Renaissance. The two of you talked. Bucky had been to many of the places you hoped to go. And some of the ones you’d already been to. It was nice to find someone like yourself, a wanderer.

“I suppose after my parents died; I just felt a little lost.” You told him “I didn’t have a big family, no siblings, so I just decided to be free. It’d at least be nice to have a home base someday though.” You mused.

“I can understand. I’ve actually lived on this land for some years, even before what happened to me. It’s actually owned by an Indigenous tribe. I bought it outright around the 1800s when the government tried to push them out, then gave it back to them. I only asked they let me build a small cabin on the outer edges.” Your jaw dropped. “But…do they know…?” You asked, still having trouble believing it for yourself. He paused and smiled.

“In my lengthy time, you meet many people who believe many different things. I’ve learned to appreciate many human cultures, and to always show respect where it is deserved. And not to tolerate those who would degrade it.” He said, then kept leading you on, with you following a little bit closer. You two walked into a room you definitely didn’t expect to find. A Kitchen.

“It was easier to build than to ever explain why there wasn’t one. Plus, I have a supplier who steals blood from some hoity toity government hospital and I need somewhere to keep it cold. You’d be surprised at the amount of blood they keep on reserve for those rich old bastards.” He rolled his eyes and you managed a genuine laugh. “I don’t know I would.” He smiled at you before continuing out of the room, with you following almost eagerly behind. The tour led down one last hallway to a set of double doors.

“Now my favorite room. My private study.” He opened the doors. A library that could’ve easily fit 10 of your vans with celling high bookshelves stretched before your eyes. A cozy looking couch sat across from either one of the 2 fire places on opposite walls, and a huge bay window revealed the storm had truly arrived. Gone was the moon, here were flashes of lightening and roars of thunder. In front of the windows sat a big mahogany desk. You strode over to the desk, to see out the window and there on his desk was a stack of all of your books. As you looked back towards him you could see on the walls, one of your photographs.

It was one you’d camped out and waited all night for in the woods. But you’d caught them, a pack of wolves running through the woods under a moonlit sky.

“I saw it in a little café in Boston and had to have it. I’ve been following you for quite some time. Literally.” He chuckled. “I became enraptured with you. Your pictures moved me. How you always seemed to capture both the joyful and the macabre sides of humanity. That’s why I had to get your book published. So, I bought the publishing company to make it happen” You turned to him in disbelief.

“Bucky, you…you didn’t…you couldn’t have…”

“Oh, but yes I did, doll. It’s what you’ve wanted, what you’ve desired.” His voice dropped. He licked his lips and moved closer to you. “And now, my little bunny rabbit. It’s time to take what I have desired for so long.” He grabbed your hand and tugged you back towards the desk, using his strength to lift you up and pin you down on your back, minding your head.

His confession, his obsession, even with his charming personality, you felt fear flaring up inside you anyways. “Wait please…” you pleaded, pressing your hand against his chest.

“No more waiting printsessa. It’s time. I need to satisfy my thirst. And my lust. And I cannot resist the sound of your pulse screaming out for me.” He paused, pressing his hips more against yours. You wanted to resist, wanted to push harder against him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Instead, you wanted to bring him closer.

“No…you gave your word…” you begged, desperately.

“I did. And I’ve kept that word. I did nothing to control you. I just failed to mention that my natural state is to lure you in. Until you’re caught like a fly in my web and you don’t even realize it.” He purred, trailing kisses down your cheek. “You’re in my home, surrounded by me, breathing me in until slowly and slowly your defenses have lowered, until you don’t even have the strength to push me away.”

He was right. You had wanted to resist him but you’d felt it crumbling more and more. Like the walls of that stone church. You were gripping his shirt not to push him away, but wanting to pull him close. Handsome, intelligent, alluring. Your thighs clenched with want.

“When I first drank your blood, there was a taste of fear that was indescribable. But now I know, lust will make it even sweeter.” He grabbed your hips and lifted you onto the desk. “So beautiful, but so…fragile.” His fleshed hand wrapped around your throat; you could feel the bitemarks as his thumb ran over them. “You know all I’d have to do is squeeze, right? And I’d crush this fragile beautiful throat. You’re so delicate.” His voice was low. You were still afraid, but that fear was streaked with desire. You wanted to give yourself to him, no matter what the cost.

“Please…Bucky…” you whimpered, not even sure what you were asking for.

“Please what, baby? Tell me. Tell me you want me to ravage you like the beast that I am. I can smell your pussy; you must be absolutely dripping by now.” You were drowning. And he was oxygen.

“Yes.” You barely breathed the word out before his lips were on yours. He slowly pushed you to lay down on the desk. You could hear rumbling in your ears. You couldn’t tell if it was the storm, or your heartbeat. But judging by how Bucky was staring down at you, you assumed the latter.

“You’re so excited aren’t you, doll? You want me to fuck you, make you my slut. And I will, you are never leaving me.” He pulling away, making you whine in desperation, but his only response was to growl as he ripped your jeans down, your shoes falling away and leaving only your panties covering your pussy. He knelt between them, putting your legs over his shoulder, and inhaled deeply.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “You are soaking wet. How long have you been hiding this, huh? Since I first drank your blood, or from when I told you that I am absolutely obsessed with you? What a shameless slut.” His words, that voice, you would listen to him forever if he wanted, anything to get him to touch you. His fingers moved slowly, stroking you over your panties.

“I’ve dreamed about eating this pussy for so long, and now I’m going to savor every moment.” You tried to buck your hips as he nipped at your thigh, but his silver arm held you firm. In the bright light of the fire, you could see how each of the platelets moved as he gripped you tighter. You looked back down at him between your legs and knew he’d seen you staring.

“Someday I’ll show you everything it can do baby. But for now...” He pulled your panties aside and started with soft licks to your clit while two fingers gently worked inside you. His touch was so gentile compared to the monster you’d feared him as. Your soft moan turned into a shriek as the edge of his fang nipped you.

“I told you, love. Desire will make the blood so much sweeter. I know you want me. Want to be my little snack for all eternity.” His fingers sped up, rubbing that special spot inside you that make you cry out with reckless abandon.

“Bucky…Bucky…don’t stop…oooh…” you moaned. Your hands clasping for structure and finding none. His tongue resumed its ministrations on your clit, never even giving his words a chance to wash over you as your knees began to shake. You could feel the erratic patterns his tongue was laving on your clit, driving your climax further to its breaking point.

“Cum for me, darling. Give yourself to me.” His words were your undoing as you screamed his name. Cumming harder than you could have ever imagined possible. And true to his word, his tongue lapped up every drop it could, sucking his fingers clean. You lay against the cool desk, your body burning with desire and you locked eyes with him, not caring to look away. He smiled, showing off his fangs. “Oh, baby girl, between your blood and your pussy, I’ll never go hungry again.”

Standing up and leaning over to kiss you, you found yourself tugging at his shirt, trying to get his skin on yours again.

“Bucky please…need you…” you begged.

“How can I deny such a sweet bunny like you?” He rid himself of his shirt and sweatpants as you followed suit, dropping your panties to the floor. Your eyes widened at the size of his cock. You’d had your fun with toys but he was something else. You could see pre-cum dribbling down the side and you wanted to close your legs, but Bucky stood between them

“Don’t look so afraid, doll. I know a good slut like you can take my cock in that pretty pussy.” He rubbed the head of his cock against your slit and you tried to push your hips up. He pinched your thigh, making you squeak. With his spare hand, he gathered your hands in his strong metal one, pinning them above you to the surface of the desk. His cock teased your entrance and you both moaned.

“You’re mine now, understand. Heart, body, mind.” He kissed from your temple to your ear. “I own you down to your very soul. Forever.” You nodded. He was a vampire. He was obsessed with you. He’d likely hunted you down for weeks. But none of that mattered now. You needed him.

“Yes, Bucky. I’m yours. You’re mine.” Bucky smiled and pushed his cock into you, slowly; letting you feel the stretch of him filling you up.

“Yes, darling. I’m yours. Yours to keep satisfied. Yours to use you as a little fuck toy when I need it.” His pace became rougher, fucking you; squeezing your wrists tighter until you yelped. Then he slowed his hips, letting you now revel in the pleasure you felt. He started rubbing at your still sensitive clit, making you clench around him. He growled deeply and you gasped as his eyes flashed crimson.

“Oh, baby doll, don’t play with fire if you don’t want to end up burnt.” He said, his voice lower and huskier. You knew he was getting closer to his own release when his pace picked up again. Not as punishing as before, but you felt his lust, his carnality in every thrust. And it only drove you crazier.

“When you cum, I’m going to drink from you again and you will be bound to me, my mate, my slut, little morsel.

“Yes…Bucky yes…please…” closer and closer you edged until he let out a low growl.

“If you don’t cum right now, I have no problem chaining you in my basement and edging you until the next full moon. Now. Cum.” The idea alone sent you over the edge, screaming out as he bit down fiercely on your neck, drinking from you again. He kept fucking you through his own orgasm, but did not drink as much as he did last time. Only just enough to make you light headed. When he finished, you two lay there a few moments, you breathing heavily as Bucky seemed to still above you. As you floated back down, your body seemed to go even more limp.

“Such a good girl.” Bucky released your wrists, but you didn’t have the strength to move your arms. Instead, he cupped your chin in his hand and kissed you with your blood streaked across his lips. He kissed passionately and deeply, until your toes curled and you knew he meant what he said.

Not bothering to remove himself, Bucky helped you wrapped your arms around him and he carried you over to one of the enormous couches by the fire. Grabbing a blanket off the back and swaddling you both. “You’ll have to sleep for a little while now. But when you wake up, you’ll live forever.” His words seeped into your brain, but there was nothing you could do now. You heard him speak again.

“You wanna know the real story behind those people?” Bucky asked and you made a noise of half-committal. “Well, those colonizers weren’t hard to pick off.” In that moment, you were reminded that though he seemed to have a soft spot for you, there were also very, very dark spots. You shuddered, but it was quickly washed away by the feeling of his metal arm, holding you tighter.

“Don’t worry darling,” he purred. “Think of all the beautiful photos you can take in the moonlight.

#bunbun's spooptober collection #vampire!bucky #Vampire!Bucky x reader #Bucky barnes #Bucky barnes x reader #halloween #vampires #darkish!Bucky

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tfxtime · 1 year

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Newfound Understanding

Greg was an understanding Father to his kids, he was attentive and patient. He just wasn't very active, in areas where most Dad's would be teaching their kids how to catch, Greg was teaching them mathematics and history.

This of course didn't stop his kids from partaking in sports, his youngest son Arthur was now in college leading the wrestling team to the State Championship. Greg was always so supportive and went to as many matches as he could, with his wife passing away his kids had become his world.

During the meets Greg would be cheering in his usual song song voice. Normally this was drowned out by most of the crowd, and if you weren't paying attention then you wouldn't have noticed the thin man in his plain dress shirt and pants. Unnoticed by everyone except Arthur, Arthur always heard his Dad's weak chants through the crowd and it made him shrink, which in wrestling is the last thing you want to do. The match went well and Arthur's team won, despite some slip ups on his part. The team was coming together and celebrating as Greg's meek voice came through trying to reach Arthur.

"Artie!" He called as his son then turned his head towards his Dad eyes widening slightly as he pulled away from the group.

"I am so proud of you! You really wrestled well!" Arthur grabbed his Dad and led him into the locker room and had him sit down.

"Dad you know I really appreciate you being here, but I got distracted because of you." Arthur explained as Greg looked up at him with a sad expression creeping over his tired face. "I'm just starting out here and I need to be at my best you know? I just could tell you were watching me cause you care, which is great! It just felt like a new kind of pressure...I'm sorry."

"No no...I'm sorry for putting that on you. I'll still come to the games, just won't be as loud I think." He stands up placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Don't exactly fit this place anyway." Greg admitted as one of Arthur's teammates came in.

"Artie we're going out, you coming?" He asked as Arthur looked at his Dad, Greg nodded with a small smile. Arthur nodded and leaned briefly into his Dad and then left leaving Greg alone.

Greg sighed as he sat down again his eyes staring blankly at the grey floor. His eyes trailing around absently until he laid his eyes on the singlet laying on the floor half in the locker half out. He sighed standing up his hands gingerly picked it up and then looked around. He rolled it out after just folding it up and placed it over his chest.

"It's...it's so skimpy?" He mutters to himself as he then looks around. The gymnasium had fallen quiet as now most people had left. "Well...never tried it before." He thought, he quickly stripped himself of his plain office attire. He shimmied his way into the singlet and pulled it up over his shoulders. Even though it was spandex it was still loose and clinging barely to Greg's frame. He brought up his arms and gave a paltry flex.

"That was silly." He sighed as he moved to take it off the bands pulling away only to snap back to his body. A small yelp was heard from Greg as he tried and tried to get the singlet off. He stopped as he felt a wave of heat wash over him, beads of sweat forming on his brow. His breathing became heavy as he lunged himself onto the sink counter by the showers. He put his hand against the mirror, the glass began to fog up from the intense heat Greg was producing. His eyes traveled over his body, it was covered in sweat and the singlet was tight against his frail musculature until he locked eyes on his hands. He could feel his skin boil and pop crackling underneath as now both hands rested on the mirror. His hands grew outwards the fingers swelling larger, hands growing callouses from the intense training hours they did.

As his hands grew the changes spread forth his forearms swell up veins snaking their way up through his arms as his hands balled up into fists as his muscles began flexing. His biceps began to blow up with muscle the fibers twisting under the skin as he felt his shoulders snap and pop. He let out a lewd moan as he felt the shift in his neck his voice dropping lower as well becoming thicker. His beard was replaced with a square jawline. Years of wrinkles washed away as his face began to twist and turn younger and younger. His hair shortened and became a warm chestnut blonde, while his hair was finishing up his chest practically ballooned out. The fabric of the singlet stretched over the expansive muscle as the pecs jiggled with growing mass. Greg's legs nearly buckled at the new growth, his cock was already strained against the fabric a measly 5 incher that barely had a dent on the groin. He moaned as his cock snaked upwards towards his hardening torso. It felt almost as if the singlet was massaging his cock and stretching it out. It compressed tightly against his shaft causing him to grip the countertop as his legs exploded with girth and mass. His ass filling out the singlet even further than before. He could feel his nuts swell and tighten up as he let out a deep and gutteral moan as he shot stream after stream of cum against his midsection soaking into the fabric disappearing.

Nearly dazed to the point of seeing stars Greg slowly stood himself up his new stature was impressive 6'4 versus 5'8 and about 100 pounds of muscle Greg couldn't help but run his hands over his body. His pecs popping as he teases the new form.

"Greg!" Arthur's voice echoed through the locker room as Greg stood up straight before turning around to see his son looking at him.

"Hey before we go we gotta take pictures for the school c'mon."

"Yeah of course." Greg nodded unsure in the moment before they both walked out of the locker room.

Greg smiled for the picture with his new best friend Artie.

"Hey man how's your Dad?" Greg asked between shots as Arthur nodded.

"He's good, busy but good." He answered leading to Greg to smile wide, his old life fading from memory all that remained was his new life filled with huge possibilities.

#male tf #muscle growth tf #body transformation #male possession #body suit tf #mental change tf #reality change #merging tf #male transformation #merging #cock tf #singlet

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winterchimez · 8 months

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Read Your Mind | Lee Hyunjae

SUMMARY: both you and Hyunjae had a mutual agreement to begin this whole friends-with-benefits relationship from the start, but now his contradicting actions and behaviour make you question what you both truly are at this point.

PAIRING: fwb Hyunjae x f!reader

GENRE: angst, suggestive

WARNINGS: kissing, making-out, arguments, unrequited love (like the first ⅔ of the fic, but there's a happy ending folks 🥹), mentions of s*x

WORD COUNT: 3,661

A/N: i've been jamming to sabrina carpenter's read your mind lately, hence this fic was born! special shout-out to my fellow sabrina enthusiast @heemingyu for hyping me up throughout the process & reading it through for me as well 😭🫶🏻

update!! this is now part of emails i can't send fwd: series (collab with @heemingyu) ✨

You slammed your laptop down shut as soon as you saw that the clock on the wall struck at half-two. Not wasting any time, you quickly packed all your belongings into your backpack and left the lecture hall immediately.

Oh, how you’ve always dreaded long lectures like today, which lasted for approximately three hours since your lecturer insisted on finishing up the modulus before letting you off for the long weekend ahead.

As you made your way out of the hall, you were immediately joined by your group of friends, who were quickly catching up with you, telling you how there’s this new Korean BBQ restaurant in town and how you guys must try it since there’s a limited promotion going on there. It was a Friday night—of course, you had to agree.

That was until your phone from your back pocket buzzed.

You took out your mobile and quickly scanned through the notification that just popped up on your screen.

🎁: Hey, meet me at my place tonight at 8pm? The usual.

A long exasperated sigh left your lips as soon as you saw that message since you knew what it exactly meant.

And how you have been doing it constantly for the past 6 months without anyone besides you two knowing about this whole deal.

Your friends clearly noticed how quickly your facial expressions shifted and began asking if something was the matter. As usual, you brushed them off and told them how your family issues had come up again and that you wouldn’t be able to join them for the night.

Using your usual pouting facial expression to convince your friends that you’ll definitely make it for the next one, you hope that it will indirectly tell them how you feel sorry about it and stop making them pressure you with more questions.

Waving them goodbye, you turn your heel in the opposite direction, making your way to the destination that your so-called friend has been expecting you to be.

Closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath before you eventually mustered up the courage to head to where you had to be.

Here we go again.

You were now on his lap, straddling his waist while his grip tightened around you. Both of you were having a steamy makeout session, lips exploring each other’s like there was no tomorrow, while both of your hands began touching one another, which increased the arousal that you both were feeling at that moment.

Finally, after a while, he gives you a little moment to have a breather while he travels down to your neck and begins leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your collarbone. Once he got there, he began sucking it a little too hard, one that you knew would definitely leave a hickey behind, and you’ll definitely need to use your handy-dandy concealer to cover them up the next day.

His hands begin travelling up to your chest, where he begins squeezing one of your breasts, which is where he gets an elicit moan in return, turning him on for the next move he is about to pull.

“Can I… take your clothes off, Y/N?”

“Go ahead, Jae.”

The next thing that happened was that both of your clothes were scattered throughout the floor, and you were now lying in bed with Hyunjae hovering over you. Both of your lips are now reconnected, tongues intertwining with one another, leaving no room for a breather.

Just as you thought things would get a little spicier, the male suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“No.”

“Hyunjae? Is everything alright?”

“No. I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t do this anymore.”

Hyunjae then gets up and sits on the bed, and you follow by sitting up next to him. Gently placing a hand on his shoulder, you looked at him with the look of concern and sincerity in your eyes.

“Care to share about what’s going through your mind?”

Hyunjae sighed deeply before furrowing his eyebrows as he stared off into the ceiling. “I’m not sure, Y/N. I know we both agreed on this from the start. But lately, I just don’t feel like this was the same as before.”

It was true. You both began this whole friends-with-benefits situation because Hyunjae had recently broken off with his ex, and he was feeling slightly lonely. Both of you were only coursemates and nothing else. Eventually, you both got close with one another when you were assigned to be lab partners in one of the subjects within the course.

You noticed how Hyunjae wasn’t as goofy and bright as he was previously, and you decided to check up on him and asked if anything was the matter and if you could at least extend a helping hand to him. Initially, he was reluctant to tell you the truth. After a period of time, he made the deal and spat out what had been bothering him for so long.

Making it clear that he was heartbroken and needed a company, you somehow convinced him that you could do that if he desperately needed them. Though both of you had made it clear to one another that he would not envision you as his ex whenever you did the deed, he merely needed company to satisfy his sexual desires. Adding to the fact that neither of you would fall for each other. You were more than happy to do that so long as you both did not break each other’s boundaries.

Things started out fine in the beginning, and he started to feel better and presentable at lectures, which made it seem like everything was working out fine. In return, you got to expand your knowledge on romance since you have never had a partner in the past 22 years of your life. In other words, it was kind of a win-win situation for both parties.

However, you have begun to notice how things have changed from all of your recent makeouts with the male himself. There was this awkward tension in the air, contradicting what you both had agreed on beforehand. There are multiple times—like tonight when Hyunjae suddenly breaks off the kiss and tells you both how you guys are done for the day.

Something was bothering him, and neither of you knew what it was all about because the male himself did not understand his emotions.

Every time this happened, he felt guilty about it and constantly apologised for everything that had happened.

But tonight, something was different.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But I think I really need some time alone to myself.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll just go to bed-”

“I’ll walk you home, at least.”

Oh.

This was the first time Hyunjae asked you to give him space. Usually—even during the recent not-so-good makeout sessions, he would always insist that you stay for the night, reassuring you that his flat is way safer than going back home with the dimly lit streets at night.

But this? It was something you had least expected to happen, though you didn’t question the male as you could tell it wasn’t the right timing to do so.

Instead, you just nodded and quickly packed away your stuff before the both of you were ready to head out towards the front door.

The entire walk back to your flat didn’t take that long—it was about a five minute walk, to be exact. But what made this whole short-distance road feel like an eternity was how neither of you spoke a word throughout the whole journey. You could tell Hyunjae wasn’t in his right mind, his face was pale. Hence, you decided to just wrap your arms around yourself and walked close by next to him, respecting the peace and silence for now.

As you reached your flat, Hyunjae didn’t say much and rather just muttered a simple “goodnight” before he smiled weakly and turned his heel back towards the direction of his residence.

Whatever happened tonight, you knew that something had changed between the both of your relationships.

This went on for an entire week. Ever since that fateful day, you’ve noticed how Hyunjae slowly returned to his previous self, where he always seemed so lonely and gloomy. He was quiet for a few days, but the usual message came in, and you find yourself back at his flat two days later.

However, it ended up the same way as it did, pausing suddenly when you both got down to the climax and decided to call it quits before walking back home once again.

The cycle then continued. He would tell you that he needed to be alone and work on his thoughts for some time before eventually typing down the usual that would keep you busy and occupied with him throughout the night. You would return to him every time, knowing how you’d be left feeling confused and unsatisfied with the entire ordeal.

Yet, your heart yearns for the man, and you’re always hoping that you’ll at least be able to ease his pain and loneliness, even in the slightest bit.

But tonight is when you decided that enough was enough and would confront him about it. What exactly was bothering him? Or rather, if he was actually getting bored of your company.

You needed to know.

“Hyunjae, I’m here to talk.”

When you replied to the male with your usual messages, being the gentleman he was, Hyunjae welcomed you immediately at the front door when you arrived. The usual deal would be that the two of you would get straight down to business without having much say, to begin with. Tonight was when you decided that this would not work out, and you both have to come to terms with one another before things go straight downhill.

He looked at you with a surprised look, where you could tell that he was definitely taken aback since you were usually the quiet one and would let the male take control of everything. A deep sigh left his mouth, and he invited you into his living room, where you both sat on the couch, distancing ever so slightly from one another.

You hesitated for a moment before you decided that it was the right time to put together the right words to ask the male what exactly had been going through his mind for the past weeks.

“What exactly am I to you at this point?”

It seemed as if the male knew that the day would come when he would eventually have to face the question he had been avoiding for so long. In the beginning, he has always seen you as a good friend who would understand his point of view of where he was coming from and how he deeply appreciated the help you were willing to give him.

But lately, he has been having second thoughts and has begun questioning himself about what he truly felt about you.

Are the both of you still in this whole friends-with-benefits situation? Or even, are you both still good friends at this point?

It took a minute or two for the male to speak up finally, and what he replied was something that had never once crossed your mind.

“I fear that I might be crossing the line, Y/N.”

“And why is that?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know myself.”

This uncertainty back and forth has really started to get on your nerves, and the fact that you came here tonight to clear the air proved nothing at all. Hyunjae wasn’t sure of his emotions, yet you were desperate to know his point of view.

Frustrated, you stood up from the couch and raised your voice slightly, facing the male to express your frustrations throughout the past week.

“Hyunjae, you keep telling me that you always needed some time alone, and yet you always want me back by the end of the day. If we’re not going to do this like how we have intentionally started with, then we’re both just wasting all of our time, really.”

“Y/N, I thought that we could just be casual about all of this-”

“Casual?” You scoffed. “You never were my best friend to begin with. We are just lab partners, and I was merely concerned about your well-being, so I decided to help out a little.”

“And because I love you.” You choked.

Hyunjae’s eyes widened upon that statement, and he was about to refute it until you managed to fire back again.

“Have you perhaps fallen in love with me?”

Hyunjae? In love with you? That can’t be. Both of you agreed upon the rules at the start that all of this was merely helping one another out, and there was no room for falling in love with the other party at all.

You knew that you had already broken the rule from the start, but it didn’t matter to you as long as you were aware that Hyunjae was getting all of the necessary help and support he needed. But with what Hyunjae has been going through lately, he knew that it was why he had begun to see you differently and how he could not touch and feel you like before.

The question was if he was ready to move on from his ex. With your help, he should have gotten over it and begun to take things a lot easier, right?

If only your theory were right.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

That was enough to tell you that all of the efforts that you have put in over the past few months have gone down the drain that easily.

You were getting teary-eyed, and you began stomping towards the front door, wanting to escape this suffocating environment that you were in.

With one final sigh, you fired back at the male once more. “Why the fuss, Hyunjae? If you just say you wanna be mine?”

Just as quickly as you opened the door, you were instantly gone. Tears begin pooling down your face as you take that long, dark, dimly light road back to the comforts of your flat.

Is it that hard to just admit you have feelings for me, Hyunjae?

Back at Hyunjae’s flat—he was standing there still, fingers running through his hair in a frustrated manner as he took his phone and dialled the only number he knew who could knock in some sense of mind at this hour.

“Sangyeon-hyung, I messed up real bad.”

You have never felt so dead over the next few weeks ever since that incident at Hyunjae’s flat. Neither of you has spoken a word to one another or even come close to having eye contact at all.

It was tough when you were both assigned lab partners for your chemistry subject and had to talk to your advisor to have your partner physically changed for the rest of the year. It was tough coming up with plausible reasons as to why you wanted him to be switched out with someone else—but ultimately, your request was approved. You were now paired with one of the girls from the class with whom you were not too familiar with, but that was fine by you so long as it wasn’t him.

Obviously, your efforts did not go unnoticed, and the male eventually tried his best to reach out to you again. But every time you managed to get a slight glimpse of him walking your way, you have always done your best to keep yourself occupied or even walk away to avoid starting up a conversation with him.

You even tried blocking him off of all of your social media and on your contacts list—he was already swarming you with calls or messages, trying to just talk to you or even apologise for what happened. But honestly, you were just not ready to hear whatever he would say to you, especially when you fell for the man before you started this whole friends-with-benefits relationship.

I have been such a fool to think he would eventually love me back.

It was a quiet afternoon when you decided to spend the rest of the day finishing your assignments before the final exams were due in about a week. The library has always been your comfort place to be on campus. Not only can you take a little breather from all the chaos on campus, but you also could take a little nap in between, especially during times like this when you’ve always pulled an all-nighter and your sleep schedule was all messed up.

Standing up from your seat, you decided to walk down towards one of the halls to get some textbooks that would be helpful as your source of references for the current report you were typing on your computer.

The peace wouldn’t last long, though, as you felt a presence behind you that you had avoided for the past month. The cologne was what gave his identity away, you would’ve recognised it immediately without a doubt because you used to spend the nights with him all the time.

You tried your best to ignore the male, constantly trying to fidget through the shelves until you finally grabbed enough materials to return to your table.

That was until he decided to grab hold of your arm, and now you were left with no escape and choice but to come face-to-face with the person you have been avoiding at all cost.

“You don’t have to say anything, Y/N. But please, at least, hear me out for a few minutes.”

Taking in a deep sigh, you laid your head down and looked at your books before muttering to the male.

“Five minutes.”

He then lets go of your arms and straightens his back as he clears his throat to finally muster up the courage to tell you what has been trying his best to tell you over the missed calls and messages.

“First of all, I’m an idiot. I messed up so bad, Y/N. I know I shouldn’t have done nor said what I did back then-”

“Cut to the chase, Hyunjae. I have no time to waste.”

“Listen. I haven’t been able to look at you the same nor touch you the way I did before because… I am starting to care a lot about you, Y/N. I’m not talking this from a friends-with-benefits stance, but rather as a friend.”

You scoffed. “So this is what it’s all about? Coming here to apologise and tell me you have changed? I have to laugh if that’s what it is, Hyunjae. Look, if you are sneaking up on me just to tell me that you need me back to do whatever shit that we used to do, then I’m sorry, but I’m done with that phase.”

He now grips both of your shoulders, trying to knock some sense into you. “No, Y/N. I’m not seeking a sexual relationship with you anymore. I’ve been a jerk not to notice how, during this whole time, I have begun to care a lot about you because you mean more to me as a friend.”

“And because I have fallen in love with you, Y/N.”

No.

No way, it can’t be. Hyunjae has made it clear how he only needed company back then, and he was nowhere near or wanting to begin a new relationship after how messed up his and his ex’s one was. You’ve got to be hearing things, maybe your lack of sleep lately was the key to this.

“You don’t, Hyunjae. You don’t love me. I was just merely a company for you.”

“That was before, Y/N. But not anymore.”

He now takes a step closer to you as he pins you against the bookshelf.

“And I’m going to make myself clear, miss Y/N. I can now confidently say that I am ready to start anew and begin this new chapter with you. The old Lee Hyunjae that you have known is now gone, and I am willing to spend the rest of my life with you as your boyfriend.”

Tears began forming in your eyes, and you had to try so hard to fight back the tears and respond to the male.

“I can’t read your mind, Hyunjae. One day, you told me you needed space and to be alone, and the next thing that happened, you came back to me saying you wanted me back. I do not enjoy this joke in the slightest bit, Hyunjae.”

He notices how your tears are on the verge of streaming down the beautiful face he has longed to yearn for over the past month, and he now closes the gap between you two, lips now brushing against one another.

“Then let me prove it to you.”

He shuts you up by placing his soft, gentle lips against yours, and with that, the tears that you have held back for so long begin pouring down like there’s no tomorrow.

He rests one of his hands around your waist while the other seemingly rests on your right cheek, slowly catching each drop of tears as he wipes them away.

Oh, how badly you have missed this—the familiar sensation, his cologne, presence, and the soft, luscious lips against yours.

Both of you were kissing one another as if it was just like the first time you both had done it—tongues were now intertwined, and neither of you were planning to let go anytime soon.

“Hyunjae—God—Don’t—Stop.” You said in between the kisses as you tried your best to catch your breath.

“Never planned to do so, Y/N.”

As he breaks off the kiss and travels down to your neck to nibble and leave a trail of kisses behind, he whispers into your ear before continuing the deed.

“You may have fallen for me first, but I have fallen for you harder.”

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