#mixed feelings on that but still!!!! exciting!!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goblinontour · 3 days

Text

We Were Young, Darlin’

we don’t have no control, we're out of control

warnings: fetus!alex, smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (piv), it’s cute

word count: 10k

“It’s him!” you screamed to your friend, your voice rising above the roaring music that vibrated through the floor and rattled your chest. The band had just come on stage, the room exploding with sound as the first chords rang out.

“What?!” she yelled back, leaning in closer, her brow furrowed as she tried to make out what you were saying. The noise in the room made everything feel chaotic, but the only thing you could focus on was the figure now adjusting a guitar at the center of the stage.

“It’s Alex! It’s him!” You gripped her arm tighter, your heart hammering against your ribs as you repeated yourself, this time louder. Your words tumbled out in an excited rush, almost slurring together from the drinks you’d downed earlier. The alcohol had made you bold, clumsy, and a little too emotional. You felt your knees wobble beneath you, and your friend caught your arm just before you could stumble into someone.

“Who’s Alex?” she asked, pulling you back upright, her eyes nervously darting to the huge brooding guy beside you whose scowl seemed permanently fixed. He looked like he’d kill someone if you spilled your drink on his shoes. But you barely noticed, too busy staring at the stage.

“Never mind! It doesn’t matter!” you waved her off, shaking your head. Explaining who Alex Turner was right now wasn’t important. There was no time to explain, not when you could see him right there. Your Alex, or at least the boy you used to know, standing there, adjusting the strap of his guitar with a nervous sort of fidget.

There he was.

He looked a little older, sure, but not so different. His hair was still dark and slightly unkempt, curling at the ends in that familiar way. His frame had filled out a bit Lean, not lanky. And there was still something unmistakably awkward about the way he stood. You could see it in the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, adjusting the strap of his guitar like he wasn’t quite sure where to place his hands. You could see the nerves in him, just like you did when you were younger.

The spotlight hit him just as he leaned into the mic, his face momentarily illuminated in the haze of the stage lights and the cigarette smoke lingering in the venue. His eyes scanned the crowd for a second, squinting through the blinding lights. The room was packed, bodies pressing together, and yet, standing there, Alex seemed smaller, like he wasn’t quite used to the attention.

He strummed a few tentative chords before leaning into the mic, his voice barely audible over the buzzing feedback. He cleared his throat, his voice coming out a little shaky, a little unsure. “Uh...thanks for coming out.” he mumbled, glancing over his shoulder at his bandmates as if looking for reassurance. They were already settling into position, ready to tear into their next song, but Alex paused, turning back to the crowd. “We’ve got a few more for you.” he added awkwardly, brushing his hand through his hair before gripping the mic stand, almost as though he needed something to hold onto.

It wasn’t the most confident stage presence, not the kind of charisma you’d expect from someone about to command a room. But it was him, every hesitant, awkward bit of him. That boy, the one who mumbled through his sentences and avoided eye contact when he was nervous. It was the same Alex you’d spent countless afternoons with, hanging out in your parents’ basements, talking about dreams that seemed so far off at the time.

A burst of emotion surged through you, and before you could stop yourself, you cheered. Louder than anyone around you. You felt your voice crack with excitement, probably too enthusiastic for his shy attempt at banter, but you didn’t care. Your heart swelled with a mix of nostalgia and pride. Seeing him up there, doing what you always knew he’d be good at, was surreal.

Alex shifted again, clearly startled by the noise. He looked up, eyes sweeping across the audience, searching for the source of the sound. And then, for just a second, his gaze landed on you.

Your breath hitched as his eyes locked with yours. Time seemed to stop, the music around you fading into a dull hum. Alex squinted, as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched into the faintest smile.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but you saw it. You weren’t sure if he recognized you, if that smile was meant for you or just a reflex in response to the crowd’s energy, but you held onto it like it was the most important thing in the world. For a moment, the years that had passed between you didn’t matter.

Was it really for you? You didn’t know, but you let yourself believe it was.

He turned away, refocusing on his guitar as the band launched into their next song. The room vibrated with the rumble of bass and drums, but you barely registered the music. All you could think about was that split second, that smile, and what it might mean.

Your friend nudged you, noticing the sudden shift in your expression. “Are you okay?” she asked, raising her voice over the music, her concern evident.

“Yeah.” you murmured, still staring at the stage, your mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions. “I’m good.” You didn’t elaborate. How could you? How could you explain that the boy who used to be your best friend, the one you hadn’t spoken to in years, had just smiled at you from the stage like no time had passed at all?

As the song continued, your eyes stayed glued to Alex. Every now and then, he’d glance up from his guitar, scanning the crowd with that same nervous energy. You wondered if he’d look your way again.

You lost yourself in the music, every beat, every chord resonating through your bones, carrying you somewhere far from where you stood. The crowd surged and swayed around you, but your focus stayed locked on the stage, on him. Watching him there brought back so many memories, ones you didn’t even realise you still carried. The songs blended into each other, one after another, and it felt like no time had passed at all.

Before you knew it, the set was over. The last notes of their final song hung in the air for a moment, lingering like a ghost, and you blinked, almost confused by how quickly it had ended. The house lights came up, harsh and bright, pulling you back into reality. You weren’t even close to being done with it, but the show was over.

Your friend had disappeared sometime during the last song, but you didn’t notice until you spotted her across the room. She was tucked into a corner with some good-enough-looking guy, his arm already around her waist as they laughed together. She shot you a quick thumbs up when she saw you looking, mouthing something you couldn’t make out before turning her attention back to him. It didn’t matter anyway. You could tell she’d found her own fun for the night.

You glanced back at the stage, your eyes scanning the space where Alex had stood just moments ago, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him. But he was gone. The whole band was gone, really, but your eyes weren’t searching for anyone else. A weird sort of emptiness tugged at your chest, a longing that felt so familiar it almost hurt. You’d lost him once, and now, after only just finding him again, he was gone before you even had a chance to say anything.

The crowd started to thin, people streaming toward the exits, and the once-hot, sweaty venue suddenly felt too empty. You made your way toward the door, digging into your pocket for your pack of cigarettes. The air outside hit you like a slap, cold and biting, the late-night chill burning against your skin. You shivered, realising too late you should have brought a jacket, but inside had been too warm, and all the jumping around left you flushed and breathless.

With a cigarette between your lips, you cupped your hands around the flame of your lighter, taking in a deep drag, hoping the smoke might do something to warm you from the inside out. It didn’t, but it gave you something to focus on. The night had that strange kind of stillness to it, the city lights blurred by the cold mist in the air.

“Hey.” a voice called from your left, low and familiar.

You froze for a moment, the cigarette dangling from your fingers as you turned toward the sound. There, just outside the door, leaning against the wall in the shadow of the venue’s awning, was Alex. It was him. You were sure of it now, more sure than you’d been earlier when you thought you saw that fleeting smile from the stage.

He was still sweaty from the show, his hair all messy and sticking up in odd directions. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he seemed even smaller now, the stage presence stripped away, leaving behind just him.

You smiled, a slow, soft grin spreading across your face, and he took a step closer, squinting at you in the dim light. “Am I seeing things right?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t quite ready to believe it was you.

“What do you mean?” you teased, taking another drag and tilting your head, playing with him just a little, the way you used to.

“Oh, sorry, I thought I-” He paused, his words stumbling over each other. “I thought you were…I mean, you looked like…”

“I am, you coconut head.” you laughed, shaking your head at him. Without thinking, you reached up with your free hand and ruffled his already chaotic hair, feeling the dampness of it from sweat and stage lights. “Come here.”

For a second, he just stood there, blinking in surprise before his face broke into a sheepish grin, one you remembered all too well. He leaned in, closing the space between you, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in like he’d done a hundred times before, back when you were kids and everything was simple. His body was warm against yours, and despite the chill in the air, the closeness of him, this version of Alex that was still somehow the same one you once knew, made the cold fade into the background.

You let yourself lean into him, his arm anchoring you, grounding you in a moment that felt strangely like coming home. You could feel the slight shake in his hands, the nervous energy that never quite left him, even now. It made you smile. Some things didn’t change.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” he murmured into your hair, his voice soft, like he wasn’t sure if saying it too loudly might break the spell.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, it was like no time had passed at all. The years of distance, of going to different schools, of losing touch, it all felt like it melted away. Here he was, standing with you in the cold, like you’d never left each other’s side.

“Well, believe it, Turner.” you said, smirking. “I’m real, and I’m freezing, so you’d better keep me warm.”

He chuckled, pulling you in tighter, the both of you laughing into the quiet night, the city sounds muted in the distance. And just like that, it was as if you’d never been apart at all.

Alex pulled back reluctantly, his arm slipping from your shoulders like he wasn’t quite ready to let go, but knew he had to. He looked at you for a moment, his big eyes searching your face as if trying to memorise every detail, and then he smiled, soft, warm, and familiar, before diving back in for one last hug. This time, it was tighter, just a few more seconds, like he was trying to savour the moment before the real world crept back in. You could feel the faint tremble in his hands, the nervous energy still coursing through him from the show.

When he finally pulled back again, it was with a quiet sigh, like he wished he didn’t have to. He stood there, crossing his arms over his chest as the cold air bit at his skin even through his jacket, his shoulders hunching up a little against the chill. He shivered, his breath visible in the freezing air, and you couldn’t help but smile at how much he was still the same.

“What are you doing ‘ere?” he asked, his voice gentle as if he couldn’t quite believe you were really standing in front of him. His eyes flicked back to the door for a second, maybe checking if anyone was watching, before they returned to you, full of curiosity.

“I came to see the show.” you replied, wrapping your arms around yourself in a weak attempt to keep warm. The cold seemed to seep into your bones now, and you stamped your feet a little, trying to shake it off. Alex noticed, shuffling a little closer to you as though he could somehow help block the wind.

“You came to see my band?” He tilted his head, his voice laced with playful disbelief. His lips pulled into a crooked grin, like he was trying to hold back a laugh.

“I didn’t know it was your band!” you admitted, your breath hitching slightly in the cold air as you flicked the butt of your cigarette away. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, trying to stop your teeth from chattering. Alex’s grin grew wider, and he giggled in that soft, quiet way you remembered, the one that was almost more like a shy exhale than an actual laugh.

“Seriously?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He stood a little taller, his shoulders less hunched, but still guarded, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself in the moment. He glanced down at his shoes for a second, the cold making his movements more fidgety.

“Seriously!” you insisted, laughing. “I didn’t even know you were in a band!”

He let out another small giggle, shaking his head as if the thought was unbelievable. “So you haven’t been keeping tabs on me, eh?” he asked, a half-smirk forming on his lips as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his voice teasing but not unkind.

“Have you been keeping tabs on me?” you shot back, a grin tugging at your lips as you watched him shift awkwardly on his feet, his arms now folded even tighter across his chest. He looked almost bashful for a second, biting the inside of his cheek like he was caught off guard by your question.

“Of course I have.” he replied, his voice soft but sincere, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. His smile faded for a moment, replaced by something more thoughtful, more real. “How could I not?”

There was a vulnerability in the way he said it, his usual defenses slipping. He shifted again, glancing down at the ground before his eyes met yours again. The wind whipped through the alley, ruffling his already messy hair, but neither of you moved. The cold seemed to fade as you stood there, locked in that moment together.

You could see the boy you once knew so clearly in front of you. But there was something different, too. He’d grown up. He was still Alex, but there was a new confidence hidden underneath it all, buried somewhere beneath the lingering awkwardness.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” you admitted quietly, your voice almost lost in the wind. The words slipped out before you had a chance to stop them, but you didn’t regret it. It was the truth. After all the time that had passed, after all the moments you thought about reaching out and never did, standing here now felt surreal.

Alex looked at you, his eyes softening. “Yeah, me neither.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He kicked at the gravel beneath his feet, the sound small against the night air. “But I always hoped I would, you know?”

You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. “So, a band, huh? You made it then.” you asked, trying to lighten the mood a little, your grin returning as you gestured toward the venue.

He laughed again, this time a little louder, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Yeah, I guess we’re alright.” he said, that self-deprecating humour you knew so well creeping into his voice. He looked away for a second, his cheeks flushing slightly from either the cold or the compliment, you couldn’t tell. You hoped it was the latter. “I didn’t think we’d get this far.”

“Well,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow, “it sounds like you’re doing more than alright.”

Alex’s grin widened, and he looked down again, this time with a smile on his face. “Thanks.” he mumbled, his voice soft as he shifted closer, his arm brushing against yours.

And just like that, it felt like no time had passed at all. The cold air still bit at your skin, but standing there with Alex, everything else seemed to melt away. It was all still there, but somehow, it didn’t matter. Not in this moment.

He gave you that familiar, lopsided grin again, the one that always seemed to make his eyes soften just a little. “You haven’t changed a bit.” he said, his voice warm with nostalgia as his gaze flickered between your face and the ground.

You laughed, “Oh, I’ve changed.” you said, smirking as you pushed your chest up a little through your low-cut top, giving him a teasing look. “I’ve got boobs now.”

His eyes widened, the soft laugh he’d been holding back escaping as he immediately looked away, biting down on his lip like he wasn’t sure where to look next. His cheeks flushed red, and for a split second, it seemed like he didn't know how to handle a joke like this.

But despite his nervousness, he couldn’t help himself. There was really no other option. Your chest was right there, the neckline of your tank leaving very little to the imagination, and the way you were pushing them up made it impossible for him not to look. You could practically see him wrestle with whether it was “appropriate” but after a moment, his gaze flicked back down.

“I’ve noticed.” he said, a bit sheepishly, his voice low and rough around the edges. His eyes darted back to yours, then dipped to your chest for just a second before he quickly looked back up again, that sheepish grin still lingering on his lips. “They’re, uh...quite nice.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered he was getting, especially with the remnants of that post-show euphoria still buzzing in him. He was clearly feeling the rush, but he was also just a boy, not quite used to this sort of attention. And especially not from you.

“Well, thank you, mister Turner.” you replied, laying on a fake posh accent that you knew would make him laugh. You tilted your head, giving him a mock-serious expression as if you were accepting a grand compliment from royalty.

Alex burst out laughing, his cheeks still flushed as he wiped a hand over his face, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous.” he muttered.

He glanced down at your chest once more, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His gaze lingered for just a second too long before he caught himself and looked back at you, giving you a look that said he knew he’d been caught. He shrugged, still laughing softly, his breath visible in the cool air.

“Some things have changed, I guess.” he added, his voice quieter now. “You’re even prettier now.” he said, the words slipping out like they had been waiting there, just beneath the surface. His voice was sincere, and for the first time since you’d bumped into him, you were the one who felt caught off guard.

Heat crept up your neck, and you couldn’t help the small blush that warmed your cheeks. You’d expected him to stay in that playful zone, but here he was, saying something real, something sweet.

“Oh, shut up.” you muttered, though the smile pulling at your lips betrayed you. You ducked your head for a second, tucking your hair behind your ear, feeling a little too seen. When you looked back at him, he was grinning again, clearly amused by the fact that he’d managed to make you blush.

“I’m serious.” he said softly, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than usual before he dropped his gaze, fidgeting with the cuff of his jacket.

You swallowed, and, eager to break the tension, you asked, “So, are you going anywhere after this? You know, big rockstar plans or whatever?” You didn’t know where this night was heading, but you didn’t want it to end just yet.

Alex shrugged, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “Nah, nah, not really. Just kinda...hanging out for now.” he replied, his voice casual, though there was a trace of hopefulness in the way he said it. “What about you?”

You shook your head, laughing as you gestured vaguely toward the venue behind you. “I’m just passing time. My friend’s probably hooking up with some rando in the toilets by now.” you said, rolling your eyes.

Alex let out a sharp laugh, his head tilting back as his shoulders shook with the effort of holding in his amusement. “Lucky her.” he said, still chuckling as he leaned against the wall, his body a little more relaxed now that the tension had broken.

“Nah.” you replied with a grin, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m better off than her, I’m sure.”

At your words, something flickered in Alex’s expression, a shift in the way he looked at you. His laughter faded into a quiet smile as he glanced at you, and for a split second, you could feel the meaning of what you’d just implied hanging in the air between you. He knew what you meant, knew exactly what you were suggesting, but he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you for a moment longer than usual, his eyes studying you carefully, like he was thinking something but didn’t want to lay it out so clearly.

Instead, he just smiled, a small, knowing grin, and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah...maybe.” he said quietly, his voice trailing off as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. He leaned in a little closer, his arm brushing against yours again.

Neither of you said what you were really thinking, but it lingered there, just beneath the surface. The night seemed quieter all of a sudden, the distant sounds of the city fading into the background as the two of you stood there, close, but not quite close enough.

You leaned into him for just a moment, feeling the heat of his body radiating through the thin fabric of your top. The night had gotten colder, and the light shiver that ran through you didn’t go unnoticed. Alex glanced down, his lips curling into that half-smile he seemed to always have when he was about to say something cheeky, as you’d quickly come to learn.

“You’re too scantily clad for a night like this.” he said.

Before you could respond, he shifted off the wall, pulling his hands from his pockets as he shrugged off his jacket. You rolled your eyes, knowing what was coming. “You’re so predictable.” you said, shaking your head with a soft laugh.

He gave you a mock-serious look. “Hey look, I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman over ‘ere.” he said, his accent thickening as he exaggerated the words. He stepped closer, draping the jacket over your shoulders and wrapping his arms around you briefly in the process. It was still warm from his body, the scent of him, faintly smoky, a hint of sweat, and that something unique to him you noticed earlier, clinging to the fabric. His shirt underneath was still damp from sweat in places from the performance earlier, despite the cold air.

As he settled the jacket around you, his hand brushed against your waist, the touch light but enough to make both of you tense for just a second. The spark of contact felt like a jolt, neither of you quite ready for it but neither pulling away either. His eyes flicked to yours for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze, before he broke it, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.

He fished out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one loose and perching it between his lips. “Naughty boy.” you muttered, watching the cigarette bob as he grinned around it.

“Give us a light?” he asked, his words slurred through the filter, eyes focused on you with that smirk playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Don’t you have one? Who smokes but doesn’t have a lighter?”

Alex chuckled, his free hand moving to brace himself against the wall, right next to your head. He leaned in just a little, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. “I do have me own, but I just wanted you to do it for me.”

The warmth of his body was so close now, the scent of him even stronger. You could practically feel his breath mixing with yours. You bit your lip, not missing the way his eyes briefly flickered down as you reached into your top, pulling out your lighter from where you’d stashed it in your bra.

“Convenient.” he murmured, though he didn’t comment on the fact that, from this angle, with how close he was, he could practically see everything. But you knew he noticed. His smirk faltered for just a second before he quickly recovered.

With the lighter in hand, you leaned forward, flicking it on and holding the flame to the tip of his cigarette. His face was close enough that you could see the faint stubble on his jaw he couldn’t shave quite right and the redness left behind on his spotty face. His cheeks hollowed as he took a long inhale, the cigarette’s end glowing brighter with each pull.

The moment felt almost surreal. Him leaning against the wall with his arm above your head, his jacket warming your shoulders, and that small, playful distance between you suddenly feeling razor-thin. When he pulled back, exhaling a long stream of smoke, his gaze lingered on you for just a beat longer than it should have. “Cheers.” he said quietly, his voice softer now, the smirk replaced with something more genuine.

You felt the tension building in the air between you, the way his body leaned just a little closer to yours, the faint scent of smoke mixing with the cool breeze and his jacket still wrapped snugly around your shoulders. The moment stretched, a pause neither of you seemed eager to break, but you couldn’t help the words that slipped from your lips.

“I really want you to kiss me.” you said, your voice steady but quiet, as if the sentence was waiting there all night, just waiting for you to give it life.

Alex blinked, his lips parting slightly as he processed what you’d just said. “Are you alright?” he asked, his tone cautious, almost like he couldn’t quite let himself believe it. He shifted, straightening up a bit but still hovering close, searching your face as if he needed reassurance that he’d heard you correctly.

You smiled, feeling a buzz from the drinks you’d had earlier and the way his presence made your heart pound. “I’m a bit buzzed.” you admitted.

He chuckled. “I can tell.” he said, his eyes scanning your face again, softer now, like he was checking for something in your expression.

You felt the rush of the moment push you forward, your confidence boosted by the alcohol and the closeness. “I’ll kiss you, then.” you said.

His breath hitched, and he raised an eyebrow, that playful smirk making its way back to his lips. “Okay, then.” he replied, almost challenging, though his voice wavered just enough to show he wasn’t as sure of himself as he was trying to be.

“Yeah?” you asked, eyes locking with his, waiting for just a hint of hesitation. But instead, he nodded, his grin faltering slightly.

“Go ahead.” he murmured.

You didn’t wait any longer. Leaning in, your heart racing, you closed the gap between you two, your lips pressing against his. His lips were warm and soft, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fall away.

Alex responded slowly at first, his hand still braced against the wall, but after a beat, you felt him relax, his lips moving with yours as the kiss deepened. The tension that had been simmering between you two finally melted. His free hand hovered near your waist like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you, but the warmth radiating from him was enough.

He pulled back, his lips still brushing against yours as he licked them slowly, like he was tasting the moment. He stayed close.

“You’re cute.” you said, voice low and steady, though you couldn’t hide the way your heart was hammering in your chest.

He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough, but playful, still riding the high of that kiss.

“Yeah.” you replied with a grin, your hands slipping up to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his messy hair. “Forgot to tell you earlier.”

Your fingers toyed with the strands there, tugging gently, and you felt him lean into it, his body inching closer, the space between you shrinking as your hands slowly guided him back in. His lips met yours again, harder this time, with less hesitation. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, almost impatient, begging for entrance. You let him in, and the moment his tongue touched yours, everything seemed to ignite.

He tasted good. Minty from the menthol cigarette still lingering on his breath. The kiss was deeper, messier, and you could feel his heartbeat against your chest, his body pressed against yours as the tension that had been building finally snapped.

Fuck, he wasn’t just cute. He was hot. And he could kiss. Really kiss.

You pulled back suddenly, breathless, and his lips were swollen, eyes half-lidded and hazy as he tried to catch his breath.

“You wanna shag in the toilets?” you asked, a grin tugging at your lips as you glanced over your shoulder, back toward the dingy venue.

He chuckled, the sound deep in his throat. “Like your friend?” he asked, still catching his breath, but the humour was there in his eyes.

“Yeah.” you teased, biting your lip, the taste of him still lingering.

He shook his head with a small laugh, leaning back against the wall. “Nah.” he said, definite.

“Why not?” you asked, pouting slightly but still amused by his answer.

“It reeks in there.” he replied, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust, though the smile never left his face.

You tilted your head, biting back a laugh as you pressed him further. “But you’d shag me?”

He didn’t respond right away, just smiled that slow, crooked smile that made your stomach flip. Without a word, he leaned back in, his lips finding yours again, this time with even more urgency. His hands found your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you like he was trying to make up for some lost time. It was rough and hungry, until his lips were swollen and red, and you could feel the slick of spit on his chin, though he didn’t bother wiping it away.

It didn’t matter. Nothing did right now except the way his body felt against yours, the warmth of his breath, and the wild pounding of your heart in your chest.

Alex shifted slightly on his feet, and you noticed the way his body seemed to sway, just the tiniest bit, like he was caught somewhere between the buzz of the moment and the cool night pressing down around you both. You could still taste the minty sharpness of his cigarette on your lips, mingling with the smoky air, and for a second, you just stood there, watching him, as if you were both waiting for something.

“So, do you still live at home?” you asked, trying to break the silence that hung between you. The question came out a little soft, a little unsure, like it was trying to find its place in the moment.

He looked, a half-smile playing on his lips. “High Green? Nah.” he said, shaking his head as if the thought amused him. His voice still had that easy, laid-back tone, but there was a hint of nostalgia in the way he said it, like memories were still lingering there, even if he’d left them behind. “Renting a flat here in the city now.”

You nodded, biting your lip, watching the way his face shifted when he talked about it. “You live alone?” you asked, your curiosity pushing you to keep the conversation going. There was so much you didn’t know now.

“Nah.” he said again, the word slipping out easily, like it was his go-to response. “With one of the lads from the band.”

His posture relaxed a little, leaning his weight back against the wall again. The easy smile never left his face, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, more focused now, like he was giving you more than just surface-level answers.

You found yourself smiling back, the tension between you both still crackling, but softer now, more controlled. “Is he going back there now?” you asked, leaning in just a little as you spoke, your hand still brushing against the back of his neck, feeling his warmth.

“Nah.” he replied, intentionally repeating himself now, now that he’d noticed the way you smiled every time he said it. “He’s probably going to his girlfriend’s place after this.”

“Is he now?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you gave him a playful nudge. Your eyes caught the slight flush of colour creeping up his neck, though he still looked entirely at ease. He was enjoying every second of your back-and-forth.

“Yeah, he’s been spending more time there lately.” he continued. He paused, as if he was thinking over his next words carefully. “The flat’s not too far from here though.”

The suggestion of it was subtle, but it was there, clear as day.

“Convenient.” you said. The implication of the word wasn’t lost on either of you. Alex’s grin widened just a bit, and he shifted again, his eyes flicking down to the ground for a moment before they met yours once more.

He gave a small laugh, almost nervous, like he was suddenly aware of how close you both were standing, like he could feel the weight of your gaze just as much as you could feel his. “Yeah.” he said, “S’pose it is.”

Before you even had time to fully process how it happened, you were both in the back of a taxi, with you half-draped over Alex’s lap, your bodies magnetically drawn to each other. His arms hesitated to fully hold you, like he wasn’t sure where to place his hands, but his mouth was far less shy. His lips moved with yours, soft but insistent, while his tongue teased its way into your mouth.

By the time you stepped into his flat, you were both a little out of breath. You didn’t even remember paying the taxi driver. Alex’s jacket had been discarded somewhere near the door, and you were too wrapped up in each other to care where anything landed. His hands still hovered, like they weren’t sure what to do or where to go, but his mouth stayed busy with yours.

His uncertainty made you bold, and you guided his hands to your hips, then lower, placing them firmly on your arse.

“Go on, Turner,” you whispered against his lips, “don’t be shy.”

That seemed to do the trick. His grip tightened, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your jeans, and the next thing you knew, your hand had found its way to the front of his jeans, cupping him over the denim. You felt him twitch under your palm, his breath catching in his throat, and for a second, you thought he might lose it right there.

“Mhm…” he murmured, his voice a low, throaty sound that vibrated through you. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face flushed.

You grinned, your lips brushing against his ear. “You wanna see my boobs?” you teased, your voice soft but suggestive. “So you can see if they’re really nice or not?”

“Like I’m the boob connoisseur?” he asked and you nodded. His eyes flicked down for a split second before he caught himself, smirking slightly as he shot back, “Give the final verdict?”

“Yeah.” you said, already pulling your top over your head.

“Fuck yeah.” His hands lingered at your waist, still a little hesitant, but you could see the hunger in his eyes as they followed every movement. Your bra was next, unclasped and tossed aside with the same casual disregard as everything else.

He grinned, his lip curling up slightly, that cheeky side of him coming out again. “And then I’ll rank your junk.” you added, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Alex chuckled, his hands finally gaining more confidence as they skimmed over your bare skin, lingering at the curve of your waist. “My dick’s quite decent, I’d say.” he replied, slipping out of his shirt and closing the space between you. His bare chest pressed against yours, warm and firm, as he backed you toward the bedroom.

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Alright then.” he murmured, his voice low and thick with lust. Without warning, he pushed you gently back onto the bed, his hands guiding you down onto the mattress.

His eyes roamed over your body as he stood at the foot of the bed, his chest rising and falling a little quicker now, his breathing shallow. He took his time, watching as you sprawled out beneath him, his lips parted slightly, his hands running through his already-messy hair as if he were trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was actually happening.

You felt your nipples hardening as you watched him take you in. He was standing there, looking tall despite the reality of it, but with a quiet intensity that made your stomach twist in the best way. His jeans hung low on his hips, and the bulge at the front of them was impossible to ignore. He looked almost nervous, but his eyes were full of want, his body language betraying the cocky front he was trying to keep up.

“C’mon then.” you coaxed, “get on with it.”

Alex’s mouth quirked up into a grin as he leaned down, his hands sliding over your thighs, spreading them apart as he moved between them. His touch was still a little tentative, but the longer it went on, the bolder he got. You could see the shift in him, giving way to something more confident.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to your collarbone, trailing slow, wet kisses across your skin as his hands continued to explore, one sliding under the curve of your ass, the other gripping your waist firmly.

“You really have changed.” he muttered between kisses. “You’re even more trouble.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck. “And you like it.” you whispered, your breath hitching as his lips found a sensitive spot just below your ear.

He pulled back for a moment, his eyes dark and hooded as he looked down at you. “Yeah.” he admitted, his voice soft but intense. “That I do.”

And then he was on you again, his lips crashing against yours, harder this time, more desperate. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your thighs, gripping your hips, tugging at the waistband of your jeans. You could feel the urgency in him, the pent-up desire that had been simmering between you both finally breaking free.

Your fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans, pulling it loose before sliding the zipper down. You could feel him straining against the fabric.

“Let’s see if that junk lives up to your bragging.” you teased, your voice breathless as you tugged his jeans down over his hips.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement as he helped you slide them off, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He leaned over you again, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Guess you’ll just have to suck it and see.”

You blinked at his cheeky grin, your lips parting in surprise at the audacity of his words. “Did you really just say that?” you asked.

Alex chuckled, his breath fanning over your cheek as he tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah.” he replied, leaning in closer. “I did.”

You bit your bottom lip, stifling a laugh that bubbled up from the back of your throat. “You’re such an idiot.” you muttered, but the heat between you didn’t fade, if anything, it grew. You could feel his body against yours, the weight of him, the scent of sweat and desire lingering in the air.

Without another word, he gripped the loops of your jeans and yanked you down the bed, making you gasp as you slid to the edge. You could barely get a word in before he was slipping them off, his fingers brushing the curve of your hips and thighs as the denim peeled away.

“I can’t be the only one with less on.” he said, his voice low and teasing as he tossed your jeans aside, his hands lingering on your bare legs, fingers tracing the edge of your underwear.

“Fair’s fair.” you shot back with a smirk, though your heart was pounding in your chest now.

You moved before he could take charge again, sinking to your knees on the floor in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. He was about to reach for you when you gently pushed him back, guiding him to sit on the bed.

You could feel the heat coming off him, radiating through the tainted material of his boxers as your hand brushed over him. He was hard, so hard. Your fingers trailed over the fabric, feeling him twitch beneath your touch. “You’re quite eager.”

“You’re quite hot.” he shot back.

You grinned, enjoying the control you had for the moment. Your fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down. His breath hitched as you revealed more of him, the fabric slipping away. When you finally had them off, he kicked them aside with impatience, pushing them down the rest of the way himself.

Your eyes widened, unable to stop yourself from letting out a low, “Wow.”

Alex smirked again, his confidence bolstered by your reaction. “Does it live up to your expectations?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice still that teasing blend of cockiness and curiosity.

You looked back up at him, biting your lip, pretending to consider your answer for a moment. “For now.” you said, flashing him a grin.

He chuckled, his hand reaching down to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek for just a moment. He didn’t need to say anything. The way he shifted slightly and the heat in his eyes spoke louder than words ever could. He was watching you with this raw, unguarded hunger, almost like he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask for what he wanted. You felt his fingers tighten in your hair just a little, urging you, guiding you down without saying a word.

You leaned in, letting your lips brush the head of his cock first. The taste hit you almost immediately. A salty, sweet mix that spread over your tongue, exactly what you should’ve expected from him. Everything about him was intoxicating, addictive in a way that had you leaning further in, wanting more. You slowly wrapped your lips around the tip, teasing him with your tongue, feeling the soft skin give under your touch.

The groan that escaped his lips was low and deep. He was struggling, you could tell, fighting to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch you, but the sensation seemed to overwhelm him. “Fuck.” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

Your hand reached out instinctively, and before you even had to ask, he spit into your palm, his breath hitching as he did so. The moment his spit hit your skin, you felt a surge of arousal run through you, making you slick in places far from your hand. It was like you were feeding off each other.

You spread the wetness over his cock, your hand stroking him with slow motions. His body tensed under your touch, his hips lifting just slightly off the bed, like he was chasing the feeling. Your other hand gripped the base as your lips sucked on the tip.

The noises he was making now were more than just groans. He was practically panting, his breath ragged, his fingers tightening in your hair, but still not forcing, not rushing you. His control was hanging by a thread, and you could feel it in the way his muscles twitched, the way his body seemed to move in sync with yours.

You smiled around him, hollowing your cheeks as you took him deeper, your hand still working the length of him in time with the slow bob of your head.

Alex’s head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as his lips parted. His chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths, each one escaping him in soft gasps. His groans grew quieter, more controlled, but then, a sudden whimper.

Before he could lose it completely, his hand shot down to the base of his cock, squeezing hard. He pulled you off him as he tried to get control of himself.

“Fuck.” he whispered, his hand still gripping himself tightly.

You sat back on your knees, lips tingling and wet, watching him try to regain control. “Need a second, yeah?” you asked.

“Yeah…” he nodded, eyes still half-closed as he exhaled. “You’re killing me.”

A grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you climbed up over him, straddling his hips. “You’re the one who stopped me.” you teased, your voice playful, leaning down to kiss his neck, trailing soft kisses up toward his jawline. His skin was hot beneath your lips, his scent still lingering thick in the air.

“Didn’t want to end things too soon.” he mumbled, his hands sliding over your thighs, gripping your hips with a little more urgency now. His fingers were firm, almost desperate. He needed to hold onto something. When his hands slid lower to grab your ass, you couldn’t help but gasp softly. God, his hands felt so big on you, rough and sure as they gripped you tight.

You bit your lip, leaning into his touch. “I don’t mind.” you whispered against his ear. His breath hitched, and you could feel the way his body reacted to your words, his grip on you tightening even more.

“You’ll have to wait.” he muttered, though the way he was looking at you, with half-lidded eyes, made you question his own resolve. His hands slid over the curve of your ass, repeatedly, squeezing, and the feeling of his touch sent a rush of heat straight to your core.

“You think you can hold off that long?” you asked, grinding down on him just a little, testing his control. You could feel him, still hard and straining beneath you, his cock pressing against your inner thigh, and the friction made you bite back a moan.

He groaned softly, his hands pulling you closer, fingers digging into your skin as his body responded almost instinctively. “You’re making it real hard not to lose it.” he breathed.

“Good.” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his with a teasing softness, just enough to leave him wanting more.

Alex’s hands slid up and down back. His fingers found the edge of your panties, toying with the fabric before slipping them to the side. The air between you crackled with tension, your breath catching as you felt him exploring you, fingers slipping through your wetness. He took his time, finding his way through your folds, testing you, making sure he had your full attention.

Then, as his fingers brushed against your clit, you let out a soft moan, your body instinctively responding to the touch. His face lit up, eyes widening slightly, a crooked grin spreading across his lips.

“Found it, did I?” he teased, his voice a low murmur as he pressed a little harder, circling around your clit in slow, lazy strokes. You nodded, biting your lip, your hips shifting toward his hand. His fingers worked with an unexpected precision, even as his movements remained somewhat tentative, but god, he was learning fast.

“Fuck, Alex.” you whispered, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he continued, his other hand holding you steady on top of him. “That feels so good.”

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes glinting as he focused on you, the pride in his voice obvious. “I think I can tell.” he added, his fingers moving a little faster now, testing your reactions. Your moans grew louder, hips bucking into his touch, and the sound seemed to fuel him.

“You’re good at this.” you managed to say between breaths, your fingers gripping his shoulders for balance.

“Well, I’m tryin’ my best,” he teased, but there was a seriousness in his expression now, his gaze locked onto you, like he couldn’t get enough of watching the way you responded to him. “You make it pretty easy.”

You shuddered under his touch, biting down on your lip as he continued to rub circles against your clit. His fingers slipped lower for a moment, teasing at your entrance, and then back up, keeping you on the edge but never giving you quite enough.

“Alex...” you groaned, gripping his arms a little tighter. “Please. Fuck me.”

He paused for a second, eyes flicking up to yours. When he saw the desperate look on your face, he let out a soft chuckle. “Fuck…okay.”

He moved quickly then, flipping you onto your back, the mattress soft beneath you as you lay sprawled out beneath him. His hands were everywhere. Gripping your hips, pulling your panties off, tossing them to the side. You barely had time to register the cool air against your bare skin before he was back, hovering over you.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading your legs as he positioned himself between them. His hair hung over his forehead, his skin still glistening with sweat, and the sight of him like this, flushed, hungry, and completely focused on you, fuck.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice low, the words barely audible over the sound of your own heavy breathing.

“Yeah.” you whispered, your hands finding his shoulders again, pulling him closer. “God, yes. Please.”

Alex didn’t need any more encouragement. With a soft groan, he lined himself up, his fingers gripping your thighs tighter as he pushed into you, slow at first, letting you feel him.

“Fuck.” he breathed, his head dropping to your shoulder as he began to move inside you, his body pressing into yours with a steady rhythm. “You feel so fucking good...”

Alex moaned as he sank deeper into you, his breath hot against your neck, and you couldn’t help but moan in return. The rhythm of his thrusts started slow, his hips driving into yours with this incredible mixture of urgency and control. Each movement felt perfect, his cock filling you in a way that made you feel dizzy with pleasure, like your body was made for this, for him.

“Fuck, Alex…” you gasped, arching up into him, your hands gripping his back, fingers digging into his skin. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his muscles flexing beneath your touch as he moved, and every time he hit that sweet spot, your body responded in kind, hips lifting to meet his thrusts.

He groaned in response. “So…so fuckin’ good.” His words were broken by the effort of his thrusts, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both gasped for air.

“You’re…really good at this.” you managed to tease between moans, your voice breathless, but there was no denying how real the compliment was. He felt amazing. Maybe it was the anticipation, the thrill of reconnecting like this. Or maybe it was just him.

Alex laughed softly, his voice shaky, but you could feel the smile against your skin. “Oh yeah? Thought you were the one judging me.”

“I am.” you breathed, your nails scratching lightly down his back. “And you’re doing really well.”

“Glad I’m living up to expectations.” he muttered, his breath hitching as he thrust into you harder, a little more desperate now. His hands slid up your sides, gripping your hips, pulling you closer, deeper. “Fuck…you’re perfect.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer, wanting him as deep as he could go. “Keep going.” you whispered, voice barely more than a breathy moan. “Just like that.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his pace quickening slightly, his hips snapping forward with a new intensity. He gripped you tighter.

You nodded, biting your lip to stifle a louder moan. “Don’t stop.”

“Fuck- I’m not stopping.” he groaned, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “I’m not stopping…” His thrusts got more erratic, driven by pure need. He was close, and you could feel it in the way his body moved, in the way his grip tightened on you even more, in the way his moans became louder and more frequent.

“Alex…I’m-” you gasped. Your whole body was coiled with pleasure.

“Fuck, I know.” he murmured, his voice almost lost in his moans. “Me too…” His hips snapped forward one last time, deep and hard, and the sensation sent you spiralling over the edge.

Alex groaned, his breath ragged and uneven as he suddenly pulled out of you, the loss of him leaving you feeling empty for a moment. He scrambled, his movements rushed and almost clumsy in the heat of the moment, hands gripping your thighs as he tried to move himself higher up your body. His eyes were wild with lust, his chest heaving as he positioned himself over you, hands bracing himself on either side of your head.

The realisation that neither of you had even thought about condoms hit you at the same time, but it was too late now, but better late than never.

“Shit-” he muttered, his voice low and breathless as he looked down at you, his cock twitching in his hand as he stroked himself. His eyes flicked between your face and your chest, pupils blown wide.

You bit your lip, watching him, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you arched your back slightly, pushing your breasts up toward him. His breathing got heavier, his strokes faster.

“Come on, Alex.” you whispered, your voice husky, teasing him as you reached up, running a hand up his chest. “Don’t make me wait.”

That did it.

His hips bucked forward, and he came, thick spurts landing across your chest and tits, the heat of it spreading across your skin. His face was flushed, eyes half-closed as he watched, his lips parted slightly, panting through the release.

“Fuck me…” he breathed, his voice shaky, his hand slowing as he squeezed out the last of his release. He looked down at you, his eyes flicking over the mess he’d made, and for a moment, both of you just stayed there, breathing hard, hearts racing.

You gave him a lazy, satisfied smile, wiping a finger through the warm liquid on your skin before smirking up at him. “Well,” you said, voice playful but still breathless, “I guess you were right.”

“‘Bout what?” he asked, still coming down from the high, his fingers brushing gently over your thigh.

You grinned. “Your dick. It is quite decent.”

Alex let out a weak laugh, dropping his head against your shoulder, still trying to catch his breath. “Glad I could live up to the hype.” he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone.

Alex collapsed against you, his body still trembling slightly. He let out a deep breath, his chest pressing against yours as he nestled into the curve of your neck, his hair sticking to your skin where his release had landed.

You laughed softly, brushing a hand through his messy, sweat-dampened hair. “You’re getting your hair all up in your jizz, Turner.”

He gave a lazy, contented sigh, nuzzling closer to you without moving an inch. “Don’t care.” he mumbled, his voice low and sleepy, as if the effort of saying those two words was almost too much.

You chuckled, lightly stroking his back. “That’s gross.”

“Yeah, yeah.” he murmured, half-asleep already, “I’ve had worse.”

You paused for a moment, letting the quiet settle between you, before curiosity got the better of you. “So…do you usually fuck girls after gigs?” The question came out more casually than you intended, but you needed to know for some reason.

Alex didn’t move. “Nah.” he muttered, his voice muffled by your skin. He shifted, turning his head so his cheek was resting against your chest. “Not really into all that…not good enough for groupies, anyway.”

You snorted at his modesty. “Not good enough? Have you seen yourself? You could probably have your pick of any girl in this city.”

He lifted his head slightly, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure?”

“Because I just shagged you,” you teased, raising an eyebrow, “And I’ve got pretty high standards.”

Alex laughed, his body shaking slightly against yours. “Lucky me, then.”

You grinned, running a hand down his back as you felt him settle into you again. “So why me, then?”

He shrugged, his fingers tracing light patterns over your waist, absentmindedly playing with your panties he found on the bed. “Dunno.” he admitted, voice soft and a little more serious now. “Just…been a while, I guess. And then I saw you, and…it felt right.” He paused, then added, “You’ve always been different.”

You glanced down at him, your heart fluttering a little at the sincerity in his words. “Different how?”

He lifted his head again, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you properly. “Like…you’re real. Always have been. Back when we were kids, you were always the one I felt like I could be myself around. And now…” He trailed off, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he shrugged again. “I don’t know. Guess I just wanted to feel that again.”

For a moment, you were quiet, taken aback by his honesty. You hadn’t expected this, him to open up like this. But then again, maybe that was just Alex. Even after all this time.

“You’re such a softie, Turner.” you said, smiling as you lightly flicked his forehead.

He rolled his eyes but smiled back, resting his head on your chest again. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it get around, alright? Gotta keep up the cool front for the band.”

You laughed, running your fingers through his hair. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

a/n: based on this request. i love fetussy <3

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

#fetus alex turner #alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #smut #goblinontour

89 notes · View notes

lxvsiick · 2 days

Text

SINK INTO THE MEMORY | HAN TAESAN X READER

PAIRING: sunshine protector! han taesan x sunshine! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Taesan feels the need to protect his ball of sunshine, Y/n.

GENRE: sunshine and sunshine protector, imagine, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 3.9k

A/N: A Taesan fluff imagine because I keep giving him angst imagines . . . LOL! Inspired by another BOYNEXTDOOR Taesan self composed song -- SINK INTO THE MEMORY ,, man he's so talented it makes me cry

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The sun hung low in the afternoon sky, casting golden light over the playground. The sound of children's laughter filled the air, but on the far side of the park, Y/n sat alone on the swing, kicking her legs to gain height, her tiny hands gripping the chains. At just six years old, she was already a little ball of energy, always smiling, always friendly. She hummed to herself as she swung higher, her eyes bright with the joy of a carefree afternoon.

Suddenly, a group of kids, a mix of her age and older, approached her with narrowed eyes. One of the older boys stepped forward and shoved her hard, knocking her off the swing. She landed with a soft thud in the sand, her hands stinging from the fall.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, her face scrunching up in confusion. "You didn’t have to push me! I was almost done, you could’ve waited your turn!"

The group of kids ignored her words, laughing as they claimed the swing for themselves. One of the older girls sneered at her. "Who cares? It’s ours now."

Y/n stood up, brushing the sand off her knees, and stomped her foot. "That’s not fair!"

The group started to move toward her, their tone shifting from playful to aggressive, and for the first time, she looked nervous.

That’s when he appeared.

Han Taesan, also six years old, had been watching from a distance. Though he was known as a "troublemaker" by his parents and the other adults around, he wasn’t bad—he just didn’t follow the rules like everyone wanted him to. Seeing the group ganging up on her, something stirred inside him. He walked up to them without hesitation, his little fists balled at his sides.

"Leave her alone," he said firmly, his voice steady despite his small size.

One of the boys from the group turned to him, sizing him up. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Taesan didn’t flinch. He pushed the boy hard enough to make him stumble back. "I said, leave her alone."

The group exchanged uncertain glances. They had heard about him—how he wasn’t afraid of getting into trouble. It was enough to make them think twice.

"Whatever," one of the kids muttered, turning away. "We were done here anyway."

As the group scattered, Y/n stood there, watching the whole thing in awe. She wiped at her cheeks, where a few frustrated tears had started to form. Instead of crying, though, she smiled brightly at her protector, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.

"Thank you!" she beamed, bouncing on her toes. "That was really brave of you."

He shrugged, kicking at the sand as if it wasn’t a big deal. "It’s nothing. They were being mean."

Y/n, still glowing with her usual sunshine-like energy, dug into her small backpack and pulled out a crinkly bag of snacks. "Want some?" she offered, holding the bag out to him.

Surprised, he blinked at her before slowly taking a piece. "Thanks," he mumbled.

And just like that, they sat down in the sandbox together, munching on snacks as if they had been friends forever. Y/n chatted away, her voice bubbling with excitement, while Taesan listened quietly, a small but genuine smile creeping onto his face. He hadn’t planned on making a friend that day, but now, with her by his side, it didn’t seem so bad.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow over the desks. Taesan, now 17, sat at his desk, his headphones snug over his ears as music pulsed through them. He absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the table to the beat, his gaze wandering toward the door, half-lost in the melody.

That’s when he spotted her.

Y/n was passing by his classroom, a tall stack of books in her arms. She was struggling to balance them, her steps wobbly, barely able to see over the top of the pile. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she shuffled down the hallway, clearly in over her head.

With a small sigh, he pulled off his headphones and placed them on his desk. Without a second thought, he stood up, leaving his classroom and slipping out into the hallway. He didn’t need to think twice—he couldn’t just sit there and watch her struggle like that.

Catching up to her with quick strides, he reached out and grabbed the stack of books from her arms. The sudden movement made her jump in surprise, her bright eyes widening as she turned to face him.

"Oh!" she gasped, her voice soft. "You scared me!"

Taesan gave her a small smirk, adjusting the books in his arms with ease. "Why are you carrying all of this by yourself?" he asked, his tone low but laced with concern. "Isn’t the vice class representative supposed to help with stuff like this?"

Y/n blinked at him, her face flushing slightly. She offered him one of her signature bright smiles, the kind that always made it hard for anyone to be mad at her.

"I volunteered to do it," she said softly, her voice sweet but firm. "I didn’t want to bother anyone else. Junho was busy."

He glanced at her, eyebrow raised. He knew her better than that—she had a habit of not asking for help, always shouldering the burden on her own. He didn’t buy her explanation, not one bit. But instead of pressing her on it, he simply sighed and shifted the weight of the books in his arms.

Y/n noticed the look on his face, the way his brows knitted together in quiet disbelief. Letting out a small giggle, she nudged him gently with her elbow.

"It’s fine now," she said, her smile widening. "You’re here to help me, aren’t you?"

He stared at her for a moment, then let out a soft huff of amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I guess so."

Without another word, the two of them continued walking down the hallway together, her steps now light and carefree without the heavy stack of books. Taesan walked beside her, still holding the books, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She was always like this—too kind, too independent. But he didn’t mind helping. Not when it came to her.

As they walked, the quiet warmth between them settled in, the kind of comfort that came from years of knowing each other, from the unspoken understanding they always seemed to share. Even without saying much, they were always in sync.

And despite the heavy books in his arms, Taesan couldn’t help but feel a little lighter as they made their way down the hallway together.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The late afternoon sun cast a soft glow over the college campus, the sound of chatter and footsteps filling the air. Taesan walked on the side with his four friends, his headphones snug over his ears as they laughed and talked around him. Though their conversations flowed easily, he was in his own world, the beat of the music steady in his ears.

That’s when he saw her.

Y/n was across the quad, her expression tired and frantic, her fingers flying over her phone’s screen as if typing a million thoughts at once. Even from a distance, he could see the tension in her posture, the way her shoulders hunched forward as she moved quickly, almost nervously.

With a small frown, Taesan pulled off his headphones, letting them rest around his neck. He paused mid-step, eyes fixed on her, then glanced at his friends. "You guys go ahead," he said, his voice calm but distracted.

His friends exchanged glances, then shrugged and waved him off as they continued on their way. He didn’t waste another moment, cutting across the campus to catch up with her.

"Y/n!" he called out, raising his voice just enough to get her attention.

Y/n’s head jerked up at the sound of her name, her eyes wide and slightly panicked. As soon as she saw him, she quickly turned away, looking down and wiping at her face. But it was too late—he had already seen the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

His heart clenched.

"What’s wrong?" he asked softly, stepping closer to her.

"It’s nothing," she mumbled, her voice shaky, refusing to meet his gaze.

He let out a quiet sigh, knowing her well enough to understand when she wasn’t telling the full truth. Without a word, he gently took her hand, ignoring her weak protest as he led her toward a quiet bench tucked away from the busy part of campus. The area was mostly empty, the hum of campus life just a distant noise now.

They sat down, Y/n still clutching her phone tightly, her eyes darting around as if she didn’t want to face him. He watched her for a moment, her normally bright expression clouded with stress and sadness.

"So," he said softly, turning toward her, "are you going to tell me what’s really going on?"

She bit her lip, her fingers tightening around her phone, her brows furrowed as if trying to keep everything inside. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, her throat working as she held back the tears.

"Is it the group project?" he pressed gently, his voice quiet and careful.

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. After a beat, she gave a small nod, not looking at him, her lips trembling. His eyes softened, and he felt a pang of sympathy. He knew she had been struggling with this project for a while, dealing with uncooperative group members and mounting stress.

"I’ll talk to them," he said, his tone firm. "They can’t just leave all the work to you."

"No!" she blurted out, her voice cracking. She shook her head quickly, finally meeting his gaze with watery eyes. "Don’t do that. It’s fine. I—I’m just a little stressed. I don’t want to bother anyone about it."

His jaw tightened. "It’s a group project. You shouldn’t be doing all the work by yourself."

Her frown deepened as she stared at him, her eyes pleading. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with exhaustion. "Let me handle it. I can do it, really."

He looked at her, the determination mixed with vulnerability in her gaze, and felt his resolve weakening. He hated seeing her like this, but he knew better than to push her when she was already so overwhelmed. With a long, resigned sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease just a little.

"Fine," he said quietly, his voice softer now. "But promise me you’ll ask for help if it gets too much. You can’t do everything by yourself."

She gave him a big, grateful smile, the weight of her exhaustion still heavy in her eyes, but at least the panic had ebbed away a little. "I will," she whispered, though they both knew she was too stubborn to ask.

He didn’t press further, instead reaching out to give her hand a comforting squeeze. As they sat there in silence, the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little from her shoulders, knowing that—at the very least—she wasn’t completely alone.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The library was quiet, the soft hum of overhead lights barely noticeable against the silence. Taesan pushed open the door, scanning the tables until his eyes landed on a familiar figure—Y/n. She was sitting alone, her head resting on the table, arms tucked under her cheek as if she'd collapsed into sleep.

He hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight of her, clearly exhausted. Walking over, he set his bag down quietly and slid into the chair next to her. Her laptop was still open, the screen displaying a half-finished document.

Taesan glanced at her, making sure she was still asleep. He could see the strain she’d been under from the deep circles under her eyes. Without a second thought, he reached for the laptop. Scrolling through the document, he realized she had been struggling with her group project—yet again. He sighed quietly and began typing, finishing the section she had started.

Minutes passed as he worked, his fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard. When he finally finished, he saved the document, closed her laptop gently, and pushed it aside.

Turning his attention back to Y/n, he rested his head on his arm, facing her. He couldn’t help but stare at her sleeping face, the way her features softened in sleep. There was something calming about just watching her, knowing she was finally getting some rest after everything she’d been dealing with.

A few minutes later, Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Taesan quickly sat up, pretending to look busy as she groggily lifted her head.

She blinked a few times, surprised to see him there. “Oh, hey,” she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. “When did you get here?”

He smiled softly. “A few minutes ago,” he lied, avoiding her eyes.

She stretched and rubbed her eyes, yawning. “That’s weird. I must’ve knocked out.” She sat up straighter, looking a bit more awake now. “You won’t believe it though—my group members finally started helping me out. It’s like a miracle or something.”

There was a hint of suspicion in her voice as she turned to him, narrowing her eyes playfully. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Taesan shifted in his seat, shrugging nonchalantly. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he said, avoiding her gaze as a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to read his face, but then shrugged and leaned back in her seat, letting it go. “Well, whoever it was, I owe them. Seriously. I was ready to lose it.”

He didn’t say anything, just smiled to himself, secretly pleased that his interference had helped her in some way. He glanced at her again, and for a moment, everything felt right—like this quiet connection between them was enough.

The sound of a distant clock ticking was the only reminder that time was still passing, but for now, Taesan was content to sit here, next to her, in the quietness of the library.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

FLASHBACK

Taesan didn’t listen. Y/n had been stressing over her group project for days, but when she’d mentioned her group members still weren’t pulling their weight, he couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Even though she told him not to interfere, he decided to handle it his way.

Spotting one of her group members near the student lounge, he walked straight up to him without hesitation.

“Hey, you’re in Y/n’s group for the project, right?” Taesan asked, his tone firm.

The guy—Sunho—looked up from his phone, sizing him up. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, you should really start helping her out,” Taesan said bluntly, crossing his arms. “She’s doing all the work, and it’s not fair. She shouldn’t have to carry the whole project on her own.”

Sunho scoffed, putting his phone away. “And what if I don’t? What are you gonna do about it?”

Taesan’s expression hardened, taking a step closer. “I know you’ve already got a warning for not pulling your weight on other group projects. I’m sure the professor would love to hear how you’re treating this one.”

The guy’s smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing. He muttered something under his breath before grumbling, “Fine, whatever. I’ll help out.”

Satisfied, Taesan nodded and walked away, already looking for the next person in Y/n’s group.

It didn’t take long to spot Jihye chatting with her friends near the campus cafe. She was laughing, clearly not thinking about the project at all. Taesan hesitated for a second, but then pushed forward, determined.

“Hey, Jihye,” he called out, walking up to the group.

She turned around, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“You’re in Y/n’s group for the project, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replied, her smile faltering as her friends looked at her curiously.

“You should stop being lazy and start actually helping her out instead of letting her do everything,” Taesan said flatly, ignoring the shocked looks from the others. “It’s a group project, not a solo one.”

The girl’s face flushed red with embarrassment as her friends stared at her. “I—I’ve been helping,” she stammered defensively, glancing at her friends for backup. “We’re just… working on it separately.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Taesan shot back. “I’ve seen how stressed she is, and it’s not because you’ve been helping.”

The tension hung in the air, and her friends shifted uncomfortably. Jihye clenched her jaw, clearly embarrassed to be called out like this in front of her friends.

“Fine,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “I’ll talk to her and help out more.”

“Good,” Taesan said, his tone still sharp. He gave her one last look before turning on his heel and walking away, satisfied that he had done what needed to be done.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The sun was shining brightly on campus as Y/n walked alongside her two friends, their laughter ringing through the air. They were heading to their favorite café when she spotted Taesan across the quad, walking with his friends. Her heart did a little flip.

“Han Dongmin!” she called out, her voice bright and cheerful. The moment he turned to look at her, his face broke into a small, genuine smile, and he waved back, his friends chatting animatedly beside him.

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, smirking at each other. “Aww, look at you! You’re practically glowing!” Wonyoung teased, elbowing her playfully.

“Right? You’re like a total lovesick puppy,” Yoon chimed in, waggling her eyebrows. “So, do you guys have something going on?”

“Shut up!” Y/n blushed, shaking her head vigorously. “We’re just best friends! That’s all!”

They laughed, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. “Best friends who smile at each other like that? Come on! There’s got to be more to it!”

She felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration as they continued to poke fun at her. “Seriously, it’s nothing! We’ve always been this way!” She insisted, trying to keep her voice steady.

The teasing continued for a few more moments before her friends finally let the topic go, shifting to a discussion about upcoming events on campus. But even as they talked, Y/n felt a weight in her chest.

She let out a sigh of relief, grateful they had moved on, but the idea of having feelings for her best friend lingered in her mind like an unwelcome guest. Memories flashed through her head: times when he had stepped in to protect her, standing up to bullies or helping her with her books when she was overwhelmed. The way he always seemed to sense when she was having a tough day, how he’d show up just when she needed him most, his presence a comforting shield.

“Are you even listening?” Yoon asked, pulling her back to the present.

“Uh, yeah! Totally!” Y/n replied, forcing a smile, but her mind kept wandering back to Taesan. What if there was something more? What if they could be more than just friends?

She shook her head slightly, trying to dispel the thoughts. “I mean, it’s just... he’s really important to me, that’s all,” She said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.

“Whatever you say, Sunshine!” Wonyoung teased, giving her a playful nudge.

As they continued their walk, Y/n couldn’t help but glance back at Taesan, who was now laughing with his friends, the sunlight catching in his hair. Her heart fluttered again, but this time, it felt different—more complicated.

Could she really navigate the transition from best friends to something deeper? The thought danced tantalizingly at the edge of her mind, leaving her both excited and anxious.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The library buzzed softly with the murmurs of students studying and typing away on their keyboards. At a table strewn with open textbooks and loose papers, Y/n sat, her gaze distant as she stared blankly at her laptop screen. The rhythmic clatter of keys and occasional shuffling of pages filled the background, but she barely noticed.

Taesan approached with a light-hearted stride, his usual grin replaced by a more contemplative expression. He slid into the seat next to her, his eyes scanning the scattered books and her vacant stare. Curiosity piqued, he leaned in close and waved his hand in front of her face, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek.

“Hey, Earth to Y/n,” He teased, his voice gentle but laced with concern.

Startled, Y/n jolted upright, her cheeks flushing as she found herself inches from him. She quickly backed away, her heart racing as she tried to regain her composure.

“Oh, um, hi,” She stammered, avoiding his gaze. “I was just… thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff, huh?” He said, leaning back but keeping his gaze steady on her. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing,” She insisted, her blush deepening. She fidgeted with her pencil, trying to focus on anything but his intense eyes.

Taesan didn’t press further, respecting her reluctance to share. They sat in a companionable silence for a few moments, the tension between them building like static electricity in the air.

Finally, Y/n took a deep breath and turned to him, her eyes full of hesitance. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” He replied, his interest clearly piqued.

“How do you know if you… like someone?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Taesan looked at her thoughtfully, his own cheeks faintly pink. “Well,” He began slowly, “I guess it’s when you want to be around them all the time, you care about their happiness more than your own, and you just feel this urge to protect them. Like, you always want to see them smile.”

A long pause followed his words, Y/n absorbing the meaning behind his confession. His heart pounded in his chest as he met her gaze.

“I guess,” He continued, taking a deep breath, “that’s how I know I like you. I want to protect you and make you happy. I like you a lot, Y/n.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock, her entire face turning beet red. For a moment, she seemed to malfunction, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words.

Seeing her reaction, Taesan couldn’t help but chuckle softly. He reached over, gently taking her hand in his. “You don’t have to answer now. I just wanted you to know how I feel so you don’t misunderstand. No pressure.”

Instead of letting go, Y/n grasped his hand tightly, her fingers trembling slightly. Her gaze dropped to the table, her thoughts racing.

“You know,” She began, her voice wavering but sincere, “earlier today, Yoon and Wonyoung were teasing me about us. It got me thinking. I don’t know what I feel yet, but I do know that I don’t want anyone else to protect me but you.”

Taesan’s heart soared at her words. A soft smile spread across his face as he squeezed her hand gently.

“Then, let’s figure it out together,” He said softly, his eyes shining with affection.

Y/n nodded, a shy smile appearing on her lips. They sat together, hands intertwined, the weight of unspoken feelings finally shared between them.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

A/N: and then they all DIE! 😈 JK YAY! a happy ending for Taesan! This is my apology for all the Taesan angst imagines/stories i have wrote and will be writing in the future ... 🙇🏻‍♀️ my fingers hurt from typing so much … but thanks for reading!

MASTERLIST

#lxvsiick </3 #kpop #boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #han dongmin #han taesan #han taesan x reader #han taesan fluff #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor ff #boynextdoor fluff #taesan fluff #taesan boynextdoor #taesan x reader #taesan #taesan bnd #bnd x reader #bnd fluff #bnd imagines

141 notes · View notes

rinnstars · 2 days

Text

unsaid goodbye!

forever doesn’t exist: where you and rin grow up and out of each other

itoshi rin x reader : angst, no comfort, post-winter argument with sae, not proofread + likes and reblogs r appreciated <3

you’ve always been by his side, ever since you were little - as though you were tied to him with a red string on your pinky. if not with sae, you practically hovered and orbited around him like the sun to him, the earth. it was nature in the both of you to stick to each other, from the day you saw him from your windows playing football outside his house - perhaps the universe had drawn the both of you together. there wasn’t a doubt in your mind when you ran down the stairs to meet rin for the first time, a miraculous recovery in your parents eyes, being able to get out of bed at all with such high fever. but not even the burning and pounding head, not the suffocating nose nor the aching in your bones that screamed could stop you from opening the door and meeting him. it was a scene out of any romance novel or mangas, love at first sight when you first looked at him in the eye - those doe eyes that turned crescent shaped as a smile enveloped his face.

you’ve been stuck to him like a conjunctioned twin since then - playing with him during break time of kindergarten, letting him purposefully win and even mess around with your toys that paled in comparison to him, sitting beside him in class for the entirety of primary school, waiting for him outside his football club, always waking up by his warm pat on your shoulders. a routine that looped around in your mundane and boring life, he was the firecracker, the climax, the excitement any kid craved. it was almost inscribed into the universe that you would be his, and he would be yours the day you met — a mix between the cold and harsh winter where he became the warm and blooming spring.

a button peeled from both your uniform on graduation day - they say love only exists when youre older, when you’re no longer naive and young, when you’re mature enough but its clear the universe had fated you to be his, and him to be yours. the matching heart beat to the loud music, the shy eye glances as you two dance to the song, the hands interlocking with one another as though it was made to fit his and yours.

but forever doesn’t exist, you learn as you grow up to be fourteen, and so does he.

his dream shatter at his brother’s hand, his heart ripped apart from his chest, still pumping as it laid on the grassy field. he knows, he’s known for the longest time he’ll never match up to his brother, the genius, the prodigy, the best. yet, he cannot forget those words that’s like a sword stabbing at his achilles heel. he hates the way he looked at him, the way he feels like a insignificant insect and a bug to his brother. its rainy. and he’s all wet outside, still sitting at where his heart were ripped out from him, where his corpse should be lying perfectly still waiting for those bugs from the movies to consume. yet, he’s conscious, yet he’s awake, yet he’s not dead yet. and god does he wish to have just died right there and there. for the first time in his life, he glanced at the ball and all he can feel is anger, hatred, envy, bitterness, violence.

his eternity with being the best strikers with his brother is gone. he learns, forever doesn’t exist. but he wants it. he wants to chase this dream, this delusion, this failure all the way. and he puts his life to it - if not to become the best with his brother, who is he? who is itoshi rin compared to his brother? he has to. he has to. there’s no other option in his brain as it yells, screams and screeches at him. and so, he throws away everything in his life to pursue this unattainable, impossible, dream from another parallel universe just to rebel against this cruel fate his brother had set for him.

a day. it only took a day to abandon and leave you far behind in the past - in a faraway fairytale land where you still resided. its too quick, you think, you don’t even realise it. things you’ve taken for granted for - lunchtime, break time between classes, after school, rather than now spending it with you, he was in his own universe he’s crafted for himself. suddenly, you went from his soulmate, his best friend, his girlfriend to just another insignificant background character, meant to be invisible, play a supporting role in a now stranger’s life, be alone. for the first time in your life, itoshi rin stopped orbiting around you. it had always been natural instincts, had always come so naturally to him to stay by your side as though you were magnetic to him. you don’t realise it at first, those small moments, brushing it off as a temporary break considering his football gigs and it being exam season. you were occupied in your own world, that you failed to see that he has drifted off to another galaxy, ran off and abandoned you without you even noticing. fixated on academics, and your clubs, perhaps it was meant to be - the way you had naturally drifted away. your galaxy has occupied others - your new friends, your club friends, your new sibling, and perhaps it was running out of space. maybe, the universe had crafted you two to just be together just temporarily.

but you’re stubborn, you’ve never given yourself to fate - breaking the barriers of illness and pain just to meet him from a simple shared glance, stuck with him as he got outcasted for not playing games right in the world of playgrounds and fairytales, even attempting to play football with him despite your weak legs. and you refused, you denied this inevitable moment. forever. forever exists - fuelled by love stories and mangas and novels you read in the library, you read from your friends house and online - there’s no doubt about it in your heart. and so you run - the same way you’ve ran down the stairs, the same way you’ve ran with him to football clubs, the same way you’ve ran after him all your life with nothing but your heart to give to him - running for a single chance to catch up to his universe, to find him and jump timelines just to stay with him.

sticky notes on his desk to encourage him, love letters shoved carelessly between his books at his home, bento boxes made from scratch according to protein standards and all. all for a glimpse of the light that shone like stars in your mundane world to just glance at you, yet all that returned was nothing, not even a gaze or glance returned. but you were nothing but stubborn, rebelling against the chains of an inevitable separation set by the world. its love, you know it is, and love. love. love. so you try again, buying him soccer books that you know he reads, buying him horror movies and games, buying him all the treats you know he indulges in just for a chance for a smile - a grin that stops the world completely for you, a smile that you wish to commit to your memory for the rest of your life, a laughter that sends dopamine straight up into your brain, yet all that returns is still the same stranger that you can no longer recognise.

your life was shattered the same day his was - a humourless way of fate reinforcing how you and itoshi rin were interlinked, connected, bound together by the cruelty of fate and life. he had become winter instead of the spring that bloomed in your cold and lifeless life filled with little passion and dwelling about.

so you let go. you’ve never given up before - not for exams, not for your clubs, not when there’s a chance. you’ve believed in the impossible, a naive thought, you think looking back. its what growing up is to you - learning to let go so to not get rope burn on yourself that will soon turn into a scar if held too tightly or too long. you let go of itoshi rin, the only one that you loved - your first love, your first friend, your first spring in your illness-filled childhood. you let go of the once routinely horror nights and games where you yelped into him as he laughs. you let go of the calls while playing horror games where you memorised the map at this point. you learn to let go and learn to pass by the football books section of the library and bookshop you still frequent, now with anyone else but the first person you’ve came to him. you learn to stop associating places with him - the bus stop you’ve met every morning until then, the spot in the library where you would study whilst he read english books or football related magazine, the spot in your room where you’ve slept on his shoulder and lap everyday after school without football club in the way. you learn to let go of old trinkets - the first music tape you and he made filled with cliche love songs that you used to listen to everyday, the lucky charm bracelet he had thrown away that night clearly, the letters that he used to write and sneak to you during classes. you learn to find new people outside of the orbit he’s made for you - talking and chattering with new friends that share the same soul, taking care of your little sister that still barely understood the words you spoke, hanging out outside of school to places once filled with memories with new friends that don’t match up to the memories you once shared. you learn to live a little outside of his world - you’ve learnt new instruments, piano singing guitar whatnot, you’ve learnt new skills that he’ll never be there to see, drawing writing baking and what not, you’ve learnt to try new food rather than picking away and putting them on his plate - green beans dark chocolate and lamb meat. you let go of the free periods shared with him - spending it to catch up on your studies, with new people trying new food talking about new things, listening to new songs that wouldn’t merge well with his and yours songs you think.

and its too late for him to turn back time. he wakes up in cold sweat one night, long after you’ve let go he thinks. he wakes up, as though still in that same field where his dreams and corpse laid. he wants to scream but his throat feels as though its burning, its bleeding - he thinks. his voice doesn’t make a single sound as though he’s mute, as though his mouth is taped, suffocating in his own fear and world. yet, for the first time, he wishes he was just a little kid, he was just that naive teenager who didn’t know of the world beyond his galaxy, he was just a kid content with living in his brothers shadow a little longer. he looks at the wall, football posters ripped out in anger that night. the books on football he collected strung on the floor in piles messily, the new dvds of the latest horror movies stuck out in his old trashed out room that he only visits to sleep. for the first time, he recognises the change his room and life has gone through since that night. and for the first time in awhile, he reminisces about you - his first love, his first friend, his first spring. he looks at the lucky charm bracelet he fixed up after in his anger broke it in the field on his desk collecting dust. he looks at the sticky notes he’s taken out of his bag after holidays has arrived, in a pile tied up by a rubber band that is no longer yours. he looks at the empty spot of his bed where you used to lie in during holiday sleepovers, either sleeping or playing with his gaming consoles that your parents refused to get you. he looks at the music tape that is still on his bedside table despite not listening to it ever since he left. he looks at the reminders and trinkets of you and for the first time, he thinks he wished he never grew up that day.

he wants to turn back time, he wants to wish that he would have never went to play football the night sae returned and just stayed at your house for a sleepover as you insisted, he wants to go back to being in your orbit instead of wherever this was in this galaxy that is so dark, alone and cold. if growing up meant letting you go, he suddenly wants to go back to being a naive little child again, he wants to be a teenager again, pretending to be studying behind a textbook with you as you sleep and he reads another football magazine grabbed from the convenience store that he now realised has recently closed down. he wants to go back to how everything was, he wants to travel to a parallel universe where you and him stayed the same, where your hands never let go of each other as you both ran together into the world together.

is it too late? the unnerving continuous beeping of his phone before it goes to ‘caller is busy’ makes him feel so. its sudden, its out of the blue - as though you too had simply flipped a switch on him, locked the doors and left him in the harsh winter. just years ago, on this very day, you’ve ran down from your stairs to meet him - and he swore he saw a snow angel come to life as you greeted him - nose slightly red, puffy cheeks and with a laughter that sounded like music that sends shivers to his spine. just years ago, on this winter day, he met the love of his life, his first love, his forever. your scent had long disappeared from his room now filled with his own that he has no connection nor emotions to. your presence had disappeared apart from the physical gifts you’ve left in your wake. its almost as if you’ve died too that night - was your corpse with him in that grassy field? did you grow up too that night? growing out of him, just like sae. just like everyone in his life. an unsaid goodbye, he wants to scold you, he wants to tear you apart and beg and plead and ask why you’ve abandoned him too. he wants to say a proper goodbye to you before you left too, was he not good enough for that? he wants to be yours still even after all this time, even after all the tears and blood shed after a nightmare has gone by, but you’ve left - and maybe that’s the real nightmare in contrast to the horror movie type of ghost or slasher films he watches.

forever doesn’t exists, he finds out when he leaves school the next day and sees you with new people he doesn’t recognise, with a new hairstyle you’ve never worn with him before, holding new books and humming tunes that he is a stranger to. and god does he think you’re cruel, you’re evil, you’re just like sae for leaving him without another word without any words.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin.<3 #itoshi rin angst #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi angst #bllk x reader #bllk angst #blue lock x reader #blue lock angst

69 notes · View notes

stervrucht · 2 days

Text

Read on AO3

Steve is tipsy—actually tipsy—and it has everything to do with the rockstar currently stuck at his side. He doesn’t know how old he is—old enough for booze at least. He takes whatever Eddie hands him and doesn’t know what he’s drinking half the time. It doesn’t matter. Good company makes everything taste honeysweet; makes his thoughts move slow like syrup.

The combined power of a shaky buzz and Eddie Munson’s heated presence has him blushing and faltering as he tries and fails to compose himself.

He has never felt like this before, had a single person consume his thoughts so fully.

The music is loud and the club is dark. They’re sitting in a VIP booth and Steve wonders why they’re in a club at all when they’re not dancing. Light bounces off their faces, each color painting Eddie’s features in a new enticing view.

There are fewer girls now. Not all of them joined their detour to the club.

Detour from—Steve doesn’t dare to finish that thought. It isn’t like that at all. Eddie invited him because…because…

Steve looks over to the girls again, with their bare shoulders and flushed cheeks, sitting close to the other band members, draped over their bodies like cloth heavy with water.

Touching

Whispering

Kissing

It isn’t like that. Not between them. Not for Steve.

Something about the night is off. Mid-sized concert halls, taxi rides, but a VIP booth in an Indiana club? And the drinks…the thing is, Steve knows his drinks, knows wine. His father has expensive taste, and what little knowledge he lacked was supplemented by the hotel’s wealthier guests.

The drinks they order don’t make sense.

Expensive mixed drinks for their guests, yet they order the cheapest wine for themselves.

Wine that remains untouched.

It’s posturing. Peacocking. A way to impress their guests probably. Steve’s not gonna judge because after tonight he’ll never see them again.

Still, it’s odd.

And they hardly need it anyway, the girls are all over them.

And Steve...

Involuntarily, his eyes move to Eddie’s grip on his waist, an arm draped across his lower back and their legs flush together. They’re close. So close he could count the lashes on Eddie’s eyes, smell the spice of his cologne that makes Steve’s head swirl and his mind go still.

There’s no denying what it looks like.

They don’t talk much. Maybe Eddie isn’t the talking type. Steve hardly knows anything about the man by his side besides their next gig (Chicago) and his opinion on Indy (eh).

Somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter.

Eddie laughs at something one of the guys says and buries his face in Steve’s hair. It’s so intimate and unprovoked it makes his heart jump. They don’t know each other, yet it feels right. It makes Steve flush with embarrassment at the part that hangs unspoken between them.

Makes him crave more.

Eddie leans close to Steve’s ear because the music is loud and the lights are low and talking is hard. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” Eddie drags his nose just below Steve’s jaw, lips only an inch away from skin and he feels his breath ghost over it, anticipation building in his gut.

He’s fucked.

He’s so fucked and he’s not gay. Yet, Steve feels excitement grip him tight and heat rise to his cheeks like hot air.

He swallows heavily, tries to compose himself.

He knows what it means.

He knows what it looks like.

Read on AO3

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #vampire!eddie munson #ster writes steddie #my fics #TGS

63 notes · View notes

engeorged · 2 days

Text

Harry's Stag - Part One

As I stepped out of the taxi, the cool Amsterdam air washed over me, and I couldn’t help but smile. The canals, the narrow streets, the lively hum of the city—it was just what I needed. A lads’ weekend with my best mates, a chance to unwind before I marry the man of my dreams.

I glanced at the guys, a wave of affection washing over me. Jim and I had been mates since we were kids, practically growing up together. Tall, lean, with that rugged, outdoorsy vibe and piercing blue eyes that seemed to cut through any nonsense, Jim was the steady one—the rock who always kept us grounded.

Banning and Noel came into our lives during university when we all played rugby together. Banning, with his quiet confidence and sharp mind, was always thinking a few steps ahead. He had this knack for coming up with a plan, making sure we stayed out of trouble and found our way home in one piece. Then there’s Noel—scruffy, blonde, and a bit shorter than the rest of us, but with a cheeky grin that could charm his way out of any mess he managed to get himself into. He was the joker of the group, ensuring we were never bored.

And then there’s me, Harry, the soon-to-be groom, the guy who’s somehow managed to land the most amazing man in the world. Jason is everything I’ve ever wanted—6’5, blonde, and brilliant, working in finance but with a heart of gold. He’s got this mix of confidence and kindness that makes me fall for him all over again every time I see him. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet, and I know it.

But right now, all I want is to forget about the wedding planning and just enjoy this weekend with the guys. We’ve been through so much together—high school dramas, university antics, and everything life has thrown at us since. This weekend is our chance to let loose, to celebrate before everything changes.

The morning light filtered through the curtains as I woke up, feeling the familiar buzz of excitement. Today was going to be one for the books. After a quick shower, I headed downstairs with the guys to tackle the hotel’s breakfast buffet. I’d always seen buffets as a bit of a challenge—something I’d perfected during our rugby trips in uni when the lads and I would try to outdo each other with how much we could eat.

The spread was impressive: stacks of pancakes, sizzling sausages, crispy bacon, eggs done every way imaginable, and fresh pastries that looked like they’d come straight out of a bakery. My stomach growled in anticipation, and I grabbed a plate, ready to dive in.

Jim, always the early riser, was already at the buffet, piling food onto his plate. “Morning, mate,” he said with a grin. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“You know me,” I replied, grabbing a bit of everything and then some. “Never one to turn down a good breakfast.”

We settled at a table, and I started working through my plate, enjoying the food and the banter. Before I could even make a dent in my meal, Noel appeared with a plate stacked high with more food. “Mate, you’ve got to try these pancakes,” he said, dropping them onto my plate without waiting for a reply.

I laughed, not thinking much of it. “Alright, alright, keep them coming.”

Banning, ever the strategist, chimed in as he sat down. “You’re missing out on the scrambled eggs. Here, have some more,” he said, adding a generous portion to my plate.

As we ate, the conversation flowed, and I found myself reminiscing about our old rugby trips. “Remember that all-you-can-eat steakhouse in Leeds?” I asked, chuckling. “I think I put away enough to feed a small army that night.”

Jim nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Yeah, and you still managed to play the next day. You’ve always had a hollow leg when it comes to food.”

They kept the food coming, and I kept eating, not really noticing how often one of them would toss something extra onto my plate. I was too caught up in the nostalgia, the friendly competition from our uni days, and the general excitement of the weekend.

But as I started on my third plate, I felt a familiar tightness in my stomach. The kind that crept in during those old eating challenges when I’d push myself just a bit too far. My belly was starting to feel heavy, the waistband of my jeans pressing uncomfortably against my skin. I shifted in my seat, trying to ease the growing discomfort.

Still, I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge—even a self-imposed one. I kept eating, even as my stomach began to bloat, pushing out slightly against my shirt. Each bite was a little slower, the food sitting heavily in my gut. I could feel my belly rounding out, the once-flat surface curving just a bit more with each mouthful.

“Feeling full yet?” Jim asked an innocent enough question, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“A bit,” I admitted, patting my stomach, which was now firm and slightly swollen. “But you know me—never one to quit while I’m ahead.”

The guys exchanged quick glances, subtle but not lost on me. I shrugged it off, thinking they were just reminiscing about old times like I was. But deep down, I had a nagging feeling that they were up to something. Still, I was too focused on the food and the fun to really care.

As I polished off the last of my pancakes, the tightness in my belly became more pronounced. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my slightly rounded stomach, feeling the pressure building inside. Regret started to creep in—a familiar sensation from those rugby days when I’d pushed my limits a bit too far. My shirt stretched a little tighter across my middle, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I should’ve shown some restraint.

But then I caught myself. I’d eaten way more than this before, especially during those wild university days. This was nothing compared to some of the eating challenges I’d taken on—and won. A bit of bloat wasn’t going to slow me down. I could handle it, no problem.

With that in mind, I shrugged off the discomfort. It was just breakfast, after all, and we had a whole day ahead of us. “Right, lads,” I said, standing up and stretching, trying to shake off the heaviness in my gut. “What’s next on the agenda?”

Jim clapped me on the back, and I could feel the tension in my overstuffed stomach as he did. “Let’s head out and explore, mate. We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”

I nodded, determined to push through the fullness. I reminded myself that this was all part of the fun, and I could definitely handle more. With one last glance at the table, I followed the guys out the door, ready to see what the day had in store.

As we headed out into the bustling streets of Amsterdam, the food still sitting heavily in my stomach, I told myself I was just being paranoid. These guys were my best friends—they wouldn’t pull anything on me, especially not right before my wedding.

After finishing breakfast, we decided to take in some of the sights. Amsterdam was a beautiful city, and I was excited to explore it with my best mates. The weather was perfect—clear skies and a gentle breeze, making it an ideal day for wandering around.

We started by visiting some of the city's iconic spots, like the Anne Frank House and the Van Gogh Museum. But as we strolled along the canals and through the narrow streets, I could feel the heaviness in my belly from the massive breakfast easing a bit. By late morning, we found ourselves at one of the bustling local markets. The place was alive with vibrant colours, delicious smells, and the chatter of vendors selling everything from fresh produce to local delicacies. It was the kind of place where you could easily lose track of time, wandering from stall to stall, sampling the best that Amsterdam had to offer.

"Harry, check this out!" Banning called out, waving me over to a stall where a vendor was selling fresh stroopwafels, still warm from the griddle. He handed me one, and before I could even think about whether I was hungry, I found myself biting into the sweet, caramel-filled treat. It was delicious, the perfect balance of chewy and crunchy, and despite the fullness I still felt, I had to admit it was hard to resist.

"How about some cheese?" Noel chimed in, appearing beside me with a small platter of local Dutch cheeses. He popped a piece into my mouth before I could protest, grinning as I chewed. The rich, creamy flavours melted on my tongue, and I couldn’t help but smile at how good it tasted.

As we moved through the market, the guys made sure I didn’t miss a thing. Every few steps, they’d find something new for me to try—a slice of fresh apple pie here, a handful of chocolate-covered nuts there. They seemed to be in a competition to see who could find the most delicious treats, and I was the unwitting contestant.

“Harry, you’ve got to try these!” Jim called out, holding up a tray of poffertjes, tiny Dutch pancakes dusted with powdered sugar. He handed me the tray, and before I knew it, I was popping the fluffy little pancakes into my mouth, one after another.

With each bite, my belly grew heavier, the tightness from breakfast now back and mixed with the new wave of food. But the guys kept bringing me more, their excitement and enthusiasm contagious. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, watching as I dutifully sampled everything they put in front of me.

At one point, I realised I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. “Guys, I think I’m good for now,” I said, laughing nervously as I held up a hand to stop another treat from making its way into my mouth.

“Fuck that!” Banning said, laughing. “We’re just getting started. You’ve got to experience everything, mate!”

Despite my growing discomfort, I couldn’t help but go along with it. After all, this was supposed to be a weekend of indulgence, and I didn’t want to be the one to spoil the fun. So I kept eating, letting the guys guide me from stall to stall, each new bite adding to the growing pressure in my belly.

By the time we were ready to leave the market, I could barely keep track of everything I’d eaten. My stomach felt impossibly full, a heavy, warm weight pressing against my waistband. As we walked away, I noticed the guys exchanging amused glances, but they didn’t say anything, and I didn’t push it.

As we left the market, I was feeling stuffed from all the sampling, but the guys weren't done with me yet. Just as we were about to head back towards the city centre, Banning spotted a stall selling fresh pastries. The aroma of warm, buttery dough filled the air, making my mouth water despite the heaviness already sitting in my gut.

“Hold up, lads,” Banning said, veering off toward the stall. “We can’t leave without taking some of these with us!”

Before I could protest, he was at the counter, ordering a large bag of assorted pastries—croissants, danishes, and something that looked like a massive cinnamon roll, all warm and fresh from the oven.

“Here you go, Harry,” he said, shoving the bag into my hands with a grin. “Something to snack on as we walk.”

I chuckled, trying to hide my unease at the thought of eating anything more. “You sure you guys don’t want to share these?”

“Oh, we’ll help,” Jim said, but I noticed the sly smile on his face. “But you’ve got to lead the charge, mate. You’re the groom, after all.”

With no real way to refuse without seeming like a party pooper, I sighed and reached into the bag. The croissant I pulled out was soft and flaky, practically melting in my hands. I took a bite, the buttery richness spreading across my tongue, and I had to admit—it was damn good.

As we walked, I found myself nibbling on the pastries, more out of habit than hunger. The guys encouraged me with every bite, grabbing a pastry here and there, but always making sure the majority of them ended up in my hands.

By the time we reached our next destination, the bag was nearly empty, and I felt like I was carrying a lead weight in my belly. The waistband of my jeans was digging into my skin, and I subtly tried to adjust it to relieve some of the pressure. The guys, of course, were loving every minute of it, exchanging knowing looks as I dutifully finished off the last pastry.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were up to something, but for now, all I could focus on was the heavy, bloated sensation in my gut. It was hard to believe I could still stand, let alone keep eating, but with the lads around, I knew there was no way I’d get out of it.

After leaving the market with my belly full of pastries, we found ourselves wandering through the winding streets of Amsterdam again. The city was buzzing with life, tourists mingling with locals, and the smell of food and drink filled the air. My stomach was still groaning from all the food I'd packed into it, but when the guys suggested stopping for some beers, I figured it might help take the edge off.

“Let’s hit up a few local breweries,” Jim suggested, his eyes lighting up. “We can’t leave Amsterdam without trying some of the best beer in the world.”

I agreed, hoping that a few drinks might dull the ache in my overstuffed belly. The first brewery we hit was small and cosy, with wooden tables and an impressive selection of local brews. The guys ordered a round of pints, and I gladly accepted mine, taking a long, deep sip. The cold, bitter beer slid down my throat, and I could feel it spreading warmth through my chest.

The first pint went down easily, and for a moment, I almost forgot how full I was. The alcohol worked its magic, numbing the uncomfortable pressure in my stomach. The guys were in high spirits, laughing and joking as we finished our beers and moved on to the next brewery.

By the time we reached the third stop, I was starting to feel a bit more relaxed. The bloated sensation in my gut was still there, but the beer had taken the edge off. Each point seemed to settle on top of the food in my belly, adding to the warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through my body.

The guys were keeping pace with me, ordering pints at each stop and making sure I always had one in my hand. I knew I should slow down, but the alcohol was doing its job, and I found myself caring less and less about how full I was. Instead, I focused on enjoying the moment, the camaraderie, and the laughter of my best friends.

At the fifth brewery, the drinks started to catch up with me. My head was buzzing, and the bloated feeling in my stomach was returning, more pronounced than before. I tried to keep up with the guys, but I could feel my belly straining against the waistband of my jeans, each sip of beer adding to the swelling pressure.

I glanced down at my gut, now noticeably rounder and heavier than it had been earlier in the day. The fullness was almost overwhelming, but the beers had numbed me enough that I could push through it, at least for a while longer.

Jim noticed me looking at my stomach and clapped me on the back. “You alright, mate? You’re keeping up like a champ!”

I managed a grin, even though I could feel the tightness in my belly with every breath. “Yeah, just feeling it a bit,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done with the tour,” Noel said, raising his glass. “Just a couple more, and then we can grab some food to soak it all up.”

The mention of food made my stomach churn, but I pushed the thought aside and lifted my pint in a toast. As we moved on to the final stop, I could feel the beers sloshing around inside me, mingling with the pastries and everything else I’d consumed that day.

But the guys were right—the beers had dulled the ache, at least for now, and I was too buzzed to care about what might come next.

By the time we reached the final brewery on our tour, my belly had become an undeniable presence—both to me and, I suspected, to anyone who glanced in my direction. It felt like a boulder, heavy and firm, pressing outwards against the fabric of my shirt. The once-flat surface was now a taut, rounded dome, the skin stretched tight and smooth. Every step I took made it sway slightly, a reminder of just how much I’d eaten.

I rubbed my swollen middle, trying to ease the growing pressure. Suddenly, a deep belch forced its way up, loud and unexpected. The guys turned, grinning, and immediately erupted into cheers.

“There he is!” Noel laughed, clapping me on the back, which only made my belly slosh uncomfortably. “That’s the spirit, mate!”

Another belch rumbled up, and this time I didn’t even try to hold it back. The guys whooped and cheered even louder, egging me on as I laughed along with them.

“Keep ‘em coming!” Banning shouted, raising his pint in a mock toast.

I shook my head, grinning as yet another burp escaped me. The relief was temporary, though, as the pressure inside me continued to build. Every step made my belly jiggle slightly, and I could feel just how bloated I was becoming. The gas from all that beer wasn’t helping, either, making me feel even more stuffed than I already was.

I couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. The lads were loving it, and there was something satisfying about knowing I could still outdo them, just like in the old days. Even if my stomach felt like it was about to burst, the cheers and laughter made it all worth it.

Despite the discomfort, there was a part of me that was fascinated by how much my body had changed in just a few short hours. My normally lean frame had been overtaken by this massive, swollen belly, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer volume I’d managed to pack away.

The guys noticed, too. I caught Banning’s eye as he glanced at my gut, and he grinned, clearly impressed. “That’s one hell of a belly, Harry,” he said, his voice full of admiration. “You’ve really outdone yourself today.”

Jim nodded in agreement, raising his pint in a toast. “To Harry’s belly,” he said with a laugh. “May it keep growing!”

The others joined in, their laughter filling the air as I gave a half-hearted chuckle. I could feel my stomach stretching even more as I took another sip of beer, the pressure building to a point that was almost unbearable.

As we finished our drinks, I leaned back in my chair, trying to find some relief from the tightness. My belly was now a prominent, round sphere, pressing outwards with a fullness that I couldn’t ignore. It was a strange mix of discomfort and pride—I’d never seen myself like this before, and despite the ache, there was something almost amusing about the sheer size of my belly.

By early afternoon, I was starting to feel the effects of our beer-filled morning. My head was buzzing pleasantly, and my steps were just a bit slower as we made our way through the bustling streets. I was thinking about suggesting a quick stop back at the hotel to freshen up, but before I could, Noel was already leading us toward our next destination.

“We’ve got a special lunch spot lined up, Harry,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Proper local place. None of that touristy crap.”

I was too relaxed to argue, letting him steer me down a side street and into a large, rustic-looking restaurant. The inside was all dark wood and heavy beams, with long communal tables and the rich smell of roasting meat filling the air. My stomach rumbled in spite of the heaviness I was already feeling, and I figured a good meal might help soak up some of the beer.

We found a spot at the end of one of the tables, and Noel didn’t even bother with menus. “We’ll take four of your specials,” he told the waitress with a wink, and she nodded, jotting it down before disappearing into the kitchen.

I leaned back in my chair, glancing around at the other diners. Most of them were locals, digging into plates piled high with food, glasses of cider clinking together in toasts. It was lively, warm, and exactly the kind of place that made you feel at home, even halfway across the world.

“So, what’s the special?” I asked, eyeing Noel suspiciously.

“Wait and see,” he grinned, taking a long pull from the glass of cider that had just been set in front of him. “You’re gonna love it.”

Moments later, the food arrived, and my eyes widened as the waitress set a huge platter in front of each of us. There, in the centre, was a whole roasted chicken, crispy and golden, surrounded by a mountain of fresh bread and a full litre of cider.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered, staring at the feast. It looked incredible, but there was no way I could finish all that. “You guys trying to kill me?”

Banning smirked, already tearing into his bread. “Consider it a challenge.”

“Come on, Harry,” Jim chimed in, pulling a hunk of chicken off the bone. “You said you were hungry this morning.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean all day,” I laughed, even as I reached for my fork. The smell of the roasted chicken was too tempting to resist, and I figured I could at least make a dent in it.

We dug in, the conversation flowing easily between bites of juicy chicken and sips of the strong, dry cider. The bread was warm and crusty, perfect for soaking up the rich drippings from the chicken, and despite my full stomach, I found myself going back for more, over and over.

The guys were relentless, though, nudging the bread my way whenever I slowed down, refilling my cider glass before I’d even finished it. Every time I thought I was done, Jim would carve off another piece of chicken and drop it onto my plate, or Noel would push the bread basket back toward me with a grin.

“You’ve got to try this with the cider,” Noel insisted, handing me a slice of bread slathered in the drippings. “Trust me, it’s worth it.”

I took the bread, biting into it with a mix of enjoyment and trepidation. It was delicious, of course, but I was starting to reach the point where every bite felt like a struggle. My stomach was stretched tight, the combination of beer, cider, and food weighing me down.

But there was something infectious about their enthusiasm, the way they kept the mood light and fun, and I couldn’t bring myself to say no. These were my best mates, and they were making sure I had the time of my life. What was a little discomfort in the grand scheme of things?

“Only the best for you,” Noel added with a wink, though there was a glint in his eye that made me wonder just how much more they had planned for me.

After finishing the meal, I leaned back in my chair, feeling utterly stuffed. My usually firm belly was now uncomfortably stretched, the tightness pressing against my shirt. The button on my jeans felt like it was about to pop, and I had to loosen my belt a notch to alleviate some of the pressure.

The full feeling wasn’t just in my stomach but seemed to radiate through my entire body. Every bite of the juicy chicken and every piece of bread had added to the bloated sensation, and the cider had only intensified it. My stomach was protruding noticeably, an unfamiliar softness replacing the tight abs I’d worked so hard to maintain. It felt heavy, like a weight pressing down from within.

I looked around at my friends, trying to ignore the discomfort, but the sight of their grins and the way they patted their own full bellies didn’t help. “I think I might have overdone it,” I admitted with a chuckle, rubbing my distended stomach.

“No way, mate,” Jim said, giving me a friendly thump on the back. “You’re just getting into the spirit of things.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to stay in top form,” Noel added, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “You don’t want to be the one to miss out.”

Despite the lighthearted teasing, I could barely move, feeling the fullness with every breath. I glanced down at my bulging belly, the fabric of my shirt straining against the roundness. It was a far cry from the trim figure I was used to seeing.

As we finally left the restaurant, I had to walk slowly, my steps deliberate and careful. Each movement reminded me of just how much I’d eaten, and I knew that if I didn’t get some relief soon, the discomfort would only grow. But with the guys still in high spirits, I knew the day was far from over, and whatever they had planned next, I’d have to muster the energy to keep up.

As we left the restaurant, the afternoon started to blur together. The combination of food and cider had left me pleasantly tipsy, and the usual sharpness of my thoughts had softened. My bloated stomach felt heavy, but the excitement of the city kept me moving, albeit at a slower pace.

After the epic lunch, I was convinced I couldn't possibly eat another bite. My stomach was so full and bloated that it felt like a lead weight was strapped to me, each step making my distended gut jiggle slightly under my shirt.

We started walking again, heading toward the canals for a leisurely afternoon tour. The sun was shining, reflecting off the water as we strolled along the cobblestone streets. I tried to focus on the sights—the charming, narrow buildings, the boats gliding by—but the heavy, stuffed feeling in my gut was impossible to ignore. Every step made me acutely aware of just how much space my belly was taking up, stretching my shirt tight across the firm, rounded expanse.

We hadn’t gone far before we passed a street vendor selling fresh Bitterballen. The savoury aroma of deep-fried goodness filled the air, making my stomach rumble despite the fullness. Bitterballen are traditional Dutch snacks, deep-fried balls filled with a rich, creamy beef or veal ragout, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. They’re often enjoyed with a dollop of mustard.

Noel, ever the enthusiast, was already haggling with the vendor before I could even process what was happening. “Harry’s got to try these!” he said, handing over a few euros and grabbing a serving of the hot, golden balls.

“Mate, I’m so full I can barely move,” I protested weakly, but Noel just grinned and handed me a paper cone filled with Bitterballen.

“Come on, you’ve got room for one more,” he said, winking. “It’s part of the experience.”

I took the cone and popped one of the Bitterballen into my mouth. The crispy exterior gave way to a rich, creamy filling that was both indulgent and comforting. Despite the tightness in my belly, the flavour was irresistible. With each bite, I could feel the food settling heavily on top of everything else I’d eaten, adding to the relentless pressure in my gut.

We continued along the canal, and it wasn’t long before Jim spotted another vendor—this time selling churros dusted with cinnamon sugar. He practically sprinted over, eager to buy a bag for me before Banning could get there first.

“Here you go, Harry,” Jim said, thrusting the warm bag into my hands. “You’ve got to keep your energy up!”

I stared at the churros, my stomach groaning in protest at the mere thought of eating more. But the guys were watching me expectantly, their excitement palpable. I couldn’t let them down, so I forced myself to take a bite.

The churro was crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, and coated with just the right amount of cinnamon sugar. It was delicious, but as I swallowed, I felt my belly swell even more, the tightness becoming almost unbearable. Each bite seemed to expand my gut further, stretching the skin to its limits.

“Harry, you’re a machine!” Banning laughed, clapping me on the back as I forced down the last of the churros. “I don’t know how you’re doing it.”

Neither did I. My stomach was now so full that it was starting to feel rock-hard, a firm, rounded dome that pushed out from under my shirt with every breath. The waistband of my jeans was cutting painfully into my sides, and I could feel my skin pulling tight over the swollen mass of my belly. I wanted to stop, to sit down and let my overstuffed gut settle, but the guys weren’t having any of it.

We passed another vendor, this one selling warm, cheesy croquettes, and before I could even protest, Banning had bought a handful and was offering them to me.

“Last ones, I promise,” he said with a mischievous grin, though I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was far from finished.

I took one, biting into the crispy, gooey centre, and immediately felt another surge of fullness. My stomach was now a tight, distended ball, and each bite made it feel like I was stretching it to the breaking point. But the guys kept egging me on, practically shoving the croquettes into my hands as we walked.

By the time we finally finished the canal tour, my belly was truly enormous—a swollen, overfilled sphere that jutted out in front of me, heavy and round. The tightness was almost unbearable, and I could barely stand up straight, the weight of my gut pulling me forward with every step.

And yet, despite it all, I couldn’t help but laugh along with the guys, the absurdity of the situation hitting me. My friends were practically fighting over who got to feed me next, and I was helpless to stop them. My once-lean frame had been transformed into something out of a cartoon, my shirt now riding up to expose the pale, stretched skin of my bloated belly.

As we headed back toward the city centre, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over. The day was still young, and the guys seemed determined to see just how much more they could cram into me. And as much as I wanted to protest, I knew deep down that I wasn’t going to stop them.

By the time the afternoon sun started to dip, I was struggling. Every step felt like a monumental effort, the heavy, swollen mass of my belly swaying in front of me, throwing off my balance. It had gone from feeling full and stretched to being outright painful, a tight, solid ball that was almost too much to bear. The guys were still in high spirits, laughing and joking as we walked, but I was finding it hard to keep up.

"Guys," I groaned, finally coming to a stop and placing a hand on my distended gut. "I need a break. Can we head back to the hotel for a bit? Just a quick snooze, let my stomach settle."

I was expecting some pushback, but surprisingly, they all nodded in agreement. Maybe they could see the strain on my face, or maybe they were just ready for a break too. Either way, we turned in the direction of the hotel, and I started to imagine the sweet relief of lying down and letting my poor, overworked belly rest.

But of course, it wasn’t going to be that simple.

As we rounded a corner, we passed a small, bustling shop with a line of people snaking out the door. The smell of fried potatoes and various toppings filled the air, and Jim’s eyes lit up when he spotted the sign.

“Wait a second,” he said, grabbing my arm and pointing toward the shop. “This is the place I’ve been telling you about! They make these famous fries with all sorts of toppings. We’ve got to try it.”

I felt a knot of dread tighten in my already cramped stomach. “Jim, I’m seriously about to burst here. I don’t think I can fit anything else in.”

But Jim wasn’t having it. “Come on, Harry, you can’t come all the way to Amsterdam and not try this. It’s part of the experience! We’ll just get one big platter to share, no big deal.”

Banning and Noel were already nodding along enthusiastically, and before I could argue any further, they were steering me toward the door. Inside, the place was a fry-lover’s paradise—massive trays of golden fries, each topped with a ridiculous amount of extras, from melted cheese to pulled pork, jalapeños, and creamy sauces.

We ordered the biggest platter they had, a monstrosity as wide as the table itself, piled high with fries and every topping imaginable. It was the sort of thing meant for a group of a dozen, not four guys who had already been eating all day. The sight of it alone made my stomach lurch in protest.

I tried to push back. “Guys, seriously, this is insane. I can’t eat all this.”

But Banning grinned at me, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’ll help, don’t worry. But you’ve got to at least give it a shot, Harry. Think of it as a challenge.”

I knew there was no way out, not with all three of them looking at me like that. So, with a resigned sigh, I picked up a fork and dug in.

The first few bites were delicious, the crispy fries and rich toppings a perfect combination. But with every mouthful, I could feel my stomach stretching further, pushing against my waistband and straining the limits of my shirt. The tightness that had been a constant presence all day was now bordering on unbearable, a pressure that made it hard to focus on anything other than the sheer fullness of my gut.

Still, the guys kept urging me on, and somehow, I kept going. They were making a show of eating their share, but it was clear that most of the food was ending up in front of me. Every time I slowed down, they’d shove another forkful of loaded fries in my direction, laughing and cheering me on like it was some sort of competition.

“Harry’s taking the lead!” Noel shouted at one point, and the others whooped in agreement.

I felt like I was in a daze, barely able to comprehend what I was doing as I continued to eat. My belly was now so bloated that it was pressing against the edge of the table, a round, firm dome that seemed to be growing larger with each bite. My shirt was stretched tight across the distended curve of my gut, and I could feel the seams straining with every breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I dropped my fork, unable to eat another bite. The platter was mostly empty, but my stomach felt like it was about to burst. I leaned back in my chair, groaning as the pressure in my belly intensified. It was a strange mix of pain and satisfaction, the kind of fullness that made it impossible to do anything but sit there and let my body digest.

The guys, of course, were loving it. They were all grins and high-fives, clearly proud of themselves for pushing me to this point.

“You’re a legend, Harry,” Banning said, clapping me on the back with a laugh. “I don’t know how you did it.”

I didn’t either. All I knew was that my belly was now so swollen and distended that I could barely move. It jutted out in front of me like a solid, round ball, the skin stretched tight and smooth over the massive bulge. I could feel every inch of it, the fullness pressing down on my lungs and making it hard to breathe, let alone think.

As we finally left the fry shop and started heading back to the hotel, I could barely keep up, my gait slow and awkward as I tried to accommodate the heavy mass of my gut. It felt like I was carrying a bowling ball strapped to my stomach, the weight of it pulling me forward with every step.

And yet, as uncomfortable as I was, there was a part of me that couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of my belly. I’d never been this full in my life, never even imagined it was possible to eat this much. It was almost impressive in a way, and despite everything, I found myself laughing along with the guys as we made our way back to the hotel.

By the time we finally made it back to the hotel, I was exhausted. My belly was so full and heavy that each step felt like a challenge, and the thought of just lying down was the only thing keeping me going. As we entered the room, the guys were still buzzing with energy, laughing and recounting the day’s events, but I could hardly focus on their words. All I could think about was getting out of my too-tight clothes and giving my aching stomach some relief.

I headed straight for the bathroom, barely pausing to acknowledge the banter going on behind me. Closing the door, I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath as I let the tension drain from my shoulders. Then, with a grunt of discomfort, I began the laborious task of peeling off my clothes.

First, I unbuttoned my jeans, which had been digging into my sides for hours. The moment the button popped open, my belly surged forward, free from its confines at last. I couldn’t help but gasp slightly at the sensation—the relief was immediate, but the sheer weight of my gut was startling. I tugged the waistband down over my hips, letting the jeans fall to the floor, before yanking off my shirt, which had been stretched to its limits.

Once I was finally free of my clothes, I turned to face the mirror, and what I saw stopped me in my tracks. My belly—normally flat and firm—was now a completely different shape, swollen and rounded out in front of me like a tightly inflated balloon. The curve of it was almost shocking, jutting out so far that it seemed impossible it was my own body. My skin was stretched taut over the massive dome, with the light fur that usually covered my stomach now spread thin and sparse across the smooth, distended surface.

I reached out tentatively, running a hand over the swell of my gut. It felt solid and unyielding, the kind of fullness that left no room for anything else. My fingers brushed against the fine hair that coated my belly, usually soft but now pulled taut over the curve, emphasising the tightness of my skin. The fur seemed almost out of place on such a massively bloated belly, a reminder of how much my body had changed in just a few short hours.

I took a step back, turning slightly to see my profile, and my eyes widened at the sight. The curve of my belly was even more pronounced from the side, a heavy, rounded bulge that hung low and full. It almost didn’t look real—like something out of a cartoon, exaggerated and impossible. And yet, there it was, a testament to just how much I had consumed.

I stood there for a moment, just staring at myself in the mirror. I knew I’d eaten a lot, but seeing the evidence in front of me like this was almost surreal. I couldn’t believe how much I’d managed to pack away—how much my belly had expanded to accommodate it all. I looked like I’d swallowed a beach ball whole, my normally lean frame now dominated by this massive, swollen gut.

A mix of shock and disbelief washed over me. I’d seen my belly bloated before—college eating challenges had often left me stuffed, but never like this. This was on another level entirely. I could feel the weight of it, the sheer fullness pressing down on me, making it hard to stand upright. Every movement made my gut jiggle slightly, a constant reminder of how tightly packed it was with food.

Despite the discomfort, there was something almost fascinating about it. The sight of my body so utterly transformed, my belly swollen beyond anything I’d ever thought possible, was strangely compelling. It was as if I’d crossed some invisible line, entered a new territory where my body was no longer my own but something else entirely—something massive and insatiable.

I ran my hand over the curve of my gut one more time, feeling the tightness beneath my palm, the way my skin stretched over the fullness. Then, with a deep breath, I turned away from the mirror and headed back into the room, where the guys were waiting.

I stumbled out of the bathroom, still in a daze from the sight of my bloated belly, and made my way to the bed. My legs were heavy, my body protesting with every step as the weight of my overstuffed gut dragged me down. As soon as I reached the edge of the bed, I let myself fall backward, the mattress groaning beneath me as I sprawled out on top of the covers. The sensation of finally lying down was a relief beyond words. My belly, round and tight, stretched upward, and I could feel the strain in my skin as it tried to accommodate the ridiculous amount of food I’d packed away.

I let out a long, contented sigh, resting a hand on the taut dome of my stomach. It was firm to the touch, barely giving under the pressure of my fingers. My eyes drifted shut, and for a moment, I was lost in the sensation of being so full, so heavy, so utterly stuffed.

The sound of laughter pulled me from my reverie. The guys were still buzzing with energy, moving around the room as they started to get ready for whatever was coming next. Jim was the first to strip off his shirt, revealing a flat but slightly rounded belly—nothing compared to mine, but still showing signs of the indulgence we’d all participated in today. He patted it with a grin, turning to show it off to Banning and Noel.

"Look at this," Jim said, chuckling. "I’m usually flat as a board, but today... man, I’m starting to show a little gut. Must have been all those pastries at the market."

Banning, who was already down to his boxers, laughed and flexed his own stomach, which was a bit bloated than usual but nowhere near as distended as mine. "Yeah, I’m feeling it too. I think I’m still carrying around half that platter of fries we demolished earlier."

Noel joined in, lifting his shirt to reveal his own slightly swollen belly. "Same here. It’s like we’ve all turned into little food balloons, but I gotta say, Harry definitely wins the prize for the biggest gut."

They all turned to look at me, sprawled out on the bed with my massive, bloated belly on full display. The contrast between their smaller, slightly rounded stomachs and my own overstuffed gut was almost comical. I looked like I’d swallowed a whole watermelon, while they’d only nibbled on a few snacks.

Jim grinned and gave his own belly another pat. “How are you even still conscious after all that? You’ve gotta be on the verge of passing out, mate.”

I could only groan in response, too full and too tired to form a coherent reply. My belly felt like it was about to burst, every breath a reminder of how far I’d pushed myself today. But despite the discomfort, there was a strange sense of camaraderie in the room, a bond forged through our shared gluttony.

The guys continued to joke and laugh, comparing their own bellies and teasing me about mine, but I barely heard them. All I could focus on was the heavy, aching fullness that filled every inch of my midsection. I rubbed my hand over the curve of my stomach, trying to soothe the tightness, but it was no use. I was beyond stuffed, my gut stretched to its absolute limit.

Even so, as I lay there, I couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. I had no idea how I’d let myself get talked into eating so much, but in some weird way, it had been worth it. The guys were having the time of their lives, and despite my current state, I couldn’t deny that a part of me was enjoying it too.

To be continued . . . .

For more of my stories click here

#gainer fiction #gay gainer #male gaining #stuffing #belly expansion #belly fiction #gainer stories #gainer story #stuffing art

64 notes · View notes

sxypnk · 1 day

Text

"𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬"

You and suguru geto? Just friends? Yeah, right. You’ve had a tough crush on him since you were kids. From that first moment you saw him, you just knew.

And you thought he felt the same way, too.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

"Hey, yn, I promise you that when we grow up, we're going to get married, alright?"

You stared at his pinky, a mix of surprise and affection swirling in your chest, your laughter filled the air, a joyful sound that made his heart race as you intertwined your pinkies.

"Okay, we will get married when we are older...and have a family!"

He grinned widely at your playful declaration, his eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and disbelief.

"And I’ll be the best dad ever,"

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

As time passed, the bond that once brought you together began to fade, even though you maintained the same circle of friends; the connection felt more distant and less meaningful than it had in those carefree days.

One day, everything felt like it had shifted back, but in a bittersweet way; it seemed almost forbidden to still have feelings for him. Your gazes would lock more often than either of you would dare to admit, his eyes tracing your every move just as yours did for him, creating an unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.

The unspoken connection pulsed between you, an electric thrill that was both exhilarating and terrifying. Each accidental brush of hands sent shivers down your spine, igniting memories of laughter and shared secrets that lingered in your mind. You both played this intricate dance, pretending indifference while your hearts betrayed the truth—each moment together felt like a delicious temptation, reminding you of what was lost and what could still be. Despite the weight of hesitation, the desire to break the silence and reclaim what you once had grew stronger with every fleeting glance.

"Hey!" you screamed, surprised, as your arm was pulled into the shadows of a dark room.

You remained motionless as the space shrank, enveloped by the warmth of a body holding you tightly.

Your arms were tucked by your side as this warm presence enveloped you.

You were confused on who it was as you inhaled, before his familiar scent filled your senses—the fragrance of your childhood crush, your bestfriend, the man you were destined to marry.

Each breath brought with it the familiar scent of the man you once played with in sandboxes, the boy who helped patch you up after a bad fall, the one who would push you on the swing until his arms grew tired. Memories flooded back of the laughter you shared, building castles in the sand and dreaming of the future, when life felt simple and love was innocent. Could he still see you as that little girl, unencumbered and carefree, or had time reshaped everything about your connection?

“Hey, do you remember those summers we spent in the sandbox?” you asked, smiling at the thought.

“Of course,” he replied,

“You always built better castles.”

You giggled as you recalled the memories. “Yeah, and you were the one who decorated with seashells like they were treasures.”

“Well, they were. I always thought we were building something special.”

Even though it was dark and the light under the door was the only thing you could see, you met his gaze. “We did. It felt special back then.”

“Ynieee, where are you?” Gojo called out down the hall, prompting a laugh to escape your lips while you were nestled in Suguru's arms.

You were about to break free from his grip when he tightened it instead.

“Just a little longer, please,” he murmured.

Barely able to discern each other's facial features, your expression softened at his words.

Gently, you wrapped your arms around him, and as you melted into him, his tense body began to relax.

After a moment, he released you and tenderly cupped your jaw, brushing his lips against your forehead.

As he stepped into the brightness, the contrast between the shadows of the room and the sunlight illuminated the tension in his expression, revealing a flicker of uncertainty beneath his composed exterior, leaving you with a lingering sense of both intrigue and worry as he disappeared down the corridor.

As the door closed, enloping you in darkness once again, you stood there, stunned, struggling to comprehend what had just occurred. This was unprecedented; he had never even rested his arm on your shoulder before, much less embraced you.

As you processed the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin, a rush of conflicting emotions swirled inside you.

Was it merely a fleeting moment of nostalgia or something deeper rekindling? You desperately tried to shake off the thoughts of your childhood promise, the pinky swear that seemed so innocent back then, now overshadowed by the weight of unspoken feelings that had grown between you over the years.

He had always been more than just a friend, the boy who had vowed to be your future; he had captured your heart long ago. Yet, here you stood, struggling with the reality of the present, where your feelings were masked by a veneer of casual friendship.

Each minute felt like a lifetime as you replayed that embrace in your mind, the way his body felt against yours, the way his breath brushed your hair. You wondered if he could sense the same longing that you felt—a desire to bridge the gap between your past and present, to reclaim not just the laughter of the sandbox but also the spark that had flickered in the shadows. Perhaps it was time to unravel the unspoken tension and take a daring step forward, to find out if those childhood dreams could become a reality that transcended mere friendship.

#jjk #getou suguru x reader #sxypnk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #geto suguru #suguru geto #jjk suguru #jjk fluff #𝙍𝙔𝙉'𝙎 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙆✧˚ · .

21 notes · View notes

elysiaheaven · 2 days

Text

𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈-𝟏𝟔-(The Fox's wedding)

You both finished your meal and left the restaurant, the evening air cooled your cheeks, and you found yourself walking in comfortable silence beside Jiaoqiu. The kiss still lingered on your mind, a sweet memory that now felt woven into the fabric of your bond.

After a while, Jiaoqiu broke the silence, his voice soft yet filled with purpose. "You know, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

Curious, you tilted your head. "What is it?"

He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. Then, with a playful smile and a serious undertone, he said, "You've told me before about how difficult it is for you to see yourself. The mirrors, reflections—they don't show you anything."

You nodded, feeling a familiar weight settle on your heart. "Yeah... It's been that way for a long time. I've almost forgotten what I look like."

Jiaoqiu stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His expression was gentle yet determined, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made you feel seen despite the situation. "I know someone—an incredible artist. He could draw a portrait of you. Of us."

Your breath hitched slightly. A portrait? The idea of seeing yourself again, even through an artist's eyes, stirred a mix of emotions within you. You glanced down, a small nervous laugh escaping your lips. "I don't know... Do you really think that would work?"

Jiaoqiu stepped closer, his fingers brushing against yours reassuringly. "I think it would be beautiful. It would help you see yourself, and I'd like to be in it with you. It's just a thought, but I think it could mean something. To capture us—this moment—forever."

You bit your lip, considering it. His offer was thoughtful, even tender. He wanted to help you see yourself, to give you something more tangible than fleeting reflections or forgotten memories. Slowly, you nodded, your heart softening. "Alright... Let's do it."

Jiaoqiu smiled, his excitement barely contained. "Great. I'll talk to my friend, and we'll arrange it soon. Trust me, you'll love his work."

You chuckled, feeling lighter than you had in a while. "I'll trust you on that. But just promise me you won't make me look like some kind of...princess."

He rolled his eyes playfully, your heart fluttering at his words.

The art was finished you looked at yourself. You were the same....

Jiaoqiu, Keep your promise!

Though our bodies have been lost in the chaos of conflict and despair, we've somehow found true love amid the wreckage. It's a love that stands out starkly against the darkness that surrounds us. in a state of half awake and half dreaming, our feelings have woven themselves into an intricate tapestry of devotion and pain.

His eyes wandered to the portrait the two of you, a vivid depiction of the emotional tumult he felt. It was a reminder of the profound connection that defied all logic and reason, even as it tugged him into a spiraling abyss.

It's no concern of mine if I end up getting dragged into hell for what I've done. All I hope for is that I can take you down there with me. If fate has decreed that we must meet our end, then I want to face it with you by my side.

The walls of the room seemed to close in around him as he thought of the impending confrontation, the relentless march of time that seemed to be drawing you both nearer to an unavoidable conclusion. His heart ached with a paradoxical mix of fear and longing.

Seems that the time is drawing near, so shall we take off now?

In his mind, the vision of you linking your arm with his, acting as if you were lovers bound by destiny, played like a bittersweet dream. The image of your faces close, your eyes reflecting an intensity that matched his own, brought both solace and torment.

*God, you're so stupid,* he mused inwardly, *acting like you're in love with me. How can you be so naive in the face of everything that's happening?*

The internal struggle grew fiercer. The love he felt was genuine, but the darkness within him threatened to overshadow it. He grappled with the urge to protect you and the darker impulses that pushed him toward destruction. His conflicting desires made him question how long he could hold back from giving in to his more violent inclinations.

*I don't know how long I can hold back when I really want to kill you.*

With a deep breath, Jiaoqiu forced himself to confront his emotions head-on.

To save Feixiao, he needed you.

To save you, You needed him.

He looked at you, the lines of his face softened despite the internal struggle. He had to find a way to reconcile his feelings, to embrace the love he felt without succumbing to the destructive forces that threatened to consume him. In that moment, he resolved to cherish whatever time he had left with you.

Over the next few days, an unsettling tension began to settle between you and Jiaoqiu. It wasn't a tension born from conflict, but one of desire, a growing flame you tried to suppress but couldn't entirely extinguish. You found yourself longing for his touch, his presence, and the complicated, twisted bond you shared. But for the world around you, everything had to appear normal. You shut those feelings deep inside, trying to focus on the people and the world outside of your entangled emotions.

Your sweets became more famous...

"Please! Just one more!" Bailu pouted, her small hands reaching out.

Sushang jumped in as well, grinning widely. "Yeah, Y/N! I swear it'll be the last one today!"

You chuckled, unable to resist their innocence. "Alright, alright," you said, handing them each a piece of candy. But a mischievous thought entered your mind as you carefully selected one of your special sweets for Jiaoqiu.

Later, Jiaoqiu found you with the others, his presence commanding but subtle. He watched you interact with Bailu and Sushang with mild curiosity and a hint of amusement. As the conversation flowed, he asked you, "Did you run some kind of restaurant or bakery, Y/N? They can't seem to get enough of your sweets."

You smiled nostalgically "I used to have a bakery," you admitted softly. "It was small but cozy. I loved making sweets for the kids in the village."

Without warning, you took one of the spicy sweets you'd prepared earlier and fed it to Jiaoqiu with a sweet smile. "Here, try this one."

He accepted it without hesitation, trusting your kindness, only for his eyes to widen slightly as the chili heat kicked in. You couldn't help but giggle as he swallowed it without complaint, despite the fiery flavor dancing across his tongue.

"Chili?" he remarked dryly but then grinned, almost enjoying the trick. "You're getting bolder."

You shrugged playfully, knowing he wouldn't scold you for it. His reaction was priceless, and a part of you enjoyed how easily you could toy with him. But beneath the playful moments, Feixiao seemed to notice the deeper, underlying tension between you and Jiaoqiu. She watched from a distance, her sharp eyes picking up on the subtle signs—the forced smiles, the unspoken words, and the occasional moments where your gazes met and lingered just a little too long.

She didn't say anything, but it was clear that she knew something was amiss.

One day, Feixiao extended an invitation to visit the Luofu, a chance for a brief respite after the chaos had settled. She specifically asked Jiaoqiu and Moze to accompany her, the trio being close allies in the conflict. You wanted to join them, a need to reconnect with an old friend in the Luofu gnawing at you.

"I want to come too," you said softly, almost hesitantly.

Jiaoqiu glanced at you, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise. "Why?" His voice was calm but edged with curiosity.

You looked down, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. "I have an old friend there... someone I haven't seen in a long time. I'd like to visit them before..." You hesitated, your voice trailing off.

Jiaoqiu's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze becoming more intense as he looked at you. "Before you die?" he finished your sentence, his tone sharp.

You were taken aback for a moment, not expecting such directness. "Yes..." you admitted quietly.

He sighed and crossed his arms, looking off to the side for a moment as if contemplating something. "Are you still stuck on that?" he asked, his voice sounding almost... frustrated.

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused by his tone and his words. His reaction was different than you expected, and it stirred something uneasy in you.

Jiaoqiu's eyes met yours again, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something—sadness, frustration, maybe even anger—but he brushed it off quickly. "Never mind," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're blinder than anyone if you don't see it."

"See what?" you asked, stepping closer, wanting to understand what he was hiding from you.

"Forget it," he said curtly. "I'll talk to Feixiao about it. You should rest." His tone softened slightly, but the conversation still felt unfinished, as though there was something more he wanted to say but couldn't.

Before he could leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm, holding him back. "I don't want to leave you," you confessed quietly, your voice trembling slightly. "Not even for a little while." The truth spilled out, raw and vulnerable, as you pressed your forehead against his back, hugging him from behind.

Jiaoqiu stiffened for a moment but then sighed softly, the tension in his body easing. He didn't say anything, but he didn't pull away either. Instead, he let you hold onto him, his presence grounding you as exhaustion slowly took over. With your arms wrapped around him, you felt safe, even if just for this fleeting moment.

Your grip on him loosened as your body gave in to sleep, the warmth of his presence lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

Timeskip!

You were soaring through the Starstiff Haven with Jiaoqiu, the wind gently tousling your hair as the vast, open sky stretched out in every direction. The kimono he gifted you felt light against your skin, its intricate patterns shimmering under the blue sky, making you feel like you were floating in a dream. The peace in the air contrasted sharply with everything that had transpired, and you relished this rare moment of calm.

Sitting side by side, you both shared a bowl of spicy ramen, each bite making you wince from the heat while Jiaoqiu ate it effortlessly. You couldn't help but smile at the contrast, trying your best to keep up with him as he slurped up his noodles. Your attempts to handle the spice made you look adorably flustered, and Jiaoqiu glanced at you, smirking slightly. "You're really struggling with that, aren't you?" he teased, watching you take small, careful bites.

"Shut up," you huffed playfully, but your smile betrayed your words. "I'm doing just fine."

After finishing the meal, the ship landed softly on the Luofu, and Jiaoqiu went to speak with Moze. You overheard snippets of their conversation, mostly about Feixiao running off somewhere, likely getting herself involved in something reckless. Jiaoqiu sighed as he relayed the information to you. "Feixiao's doing something silly again. But don't worry about it, Moze and I will handle it."

You tilted your head curiously, raising an eyebrow. "Why not ask Jing Yuan for help?" you suggested casually.

Jiaoqiu froze for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he turned to you. "How do you know the name of the general of the Luofu?" he asked, suspicion clear in his voice.

You giggled, leaning back slightly as you smiled innocently. "Magic," you replied, winking at him mischievously.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're impossible to read sometimes." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, though. He didn't press further but gave you a knowing look, as if he knew there was more you weren't telling him.

"Anyway, don't worry too much about Feixiao," he said. "She's capable. And besides, Jing Yuan's busy with... more important matters."

You smiled, sensing the slight tension dissipate between you two. "Well, if she's running off doing silly things, I guess it's in good hands, right? Besides, I'm more interested in exploring the Luofu."

Jiaoqiu glanced at you, noticing how you seemed to light up at the thought. "Fine," he said, his voice softening. "We can take a walk around before things get too crazy again." His eyes softened as they traced over the kimono you were wearing. "And... that kimono suits you."

You blushed slightly, the compliment catching you off guard. "Thank you," you whispered, feeling the warmth in your chest as the two of you set off to explore the bustling city of the Luofu.

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr jiaoqiu #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu hsr #jiaoqiu

28 notes · View notes