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itsfairly · 23 days

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Nighttime Care // Nanami Kento x gn!reader

word count: 5.5k (ops)

cw: fluff, gender neutral!reader, established couple, petnames (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, darling, dear) not proofread (when is it?)

summary: work, work, and more work, it just seems like nanami can't catch a break from all this overtime. its exhausting, and you can see that and decide to give a helping hand.

notes: time to pass all the silly scenarios I've thought off instead of the outlines for the other fics i have on my drafts ❤

liked this? show it with a like, reblog, and/or comment. each is greatly appreciated and celebrated!

Tired.

Tired, tired, tired.

While it was a significantly better change when he quit his job as a salaryman and returned to his life as a sorcerer, Nanami hated how overtime seemed to follow him. But he hated how overtime not only meant coming home late and all tired. Now it meant coming late to you and being robbed of his time with his sweetheart.

It was way past midnight by the time he got through the front door, huffing almost too loudly as he kicked his shoes off and stepped into the quiet of your house.

No show playing on the TV with you on the couch all curled up waiting for him.

No smells coming from the kitchen with your back facing him as you hum to yourself with your attention on making tonight's dinner.

No running up to him to wrap your arms around him and pepper his face with your lips as you welcomed him home in a muffle.

No you to brighten such a shift at work.

Maybe it was better this way. It was late and you had work tomorrow, you had every right to be asleep right now. The slight disappointment from no sign of you awake quickly turns towards himself. How could he be selfish enough to expect you to wait for him at this hour? He had insisted that you should not wait for him so late, you had your own stuff outside of your relationship together and he rather that you would at least rest easy. Besides, you couldn't see him like this—dark eye bags, a deep frown, and barely standing. Nanami always wanted to be presentable before you, you deserved to see him at his best, not...not like this.

Yet, his heavy steps betrayed him. Despite his best attempts to keep you asleep, your light sleep triggered and caused you to groan awake. You turn on the bed, trying to find the source of the sound that interrupted your sleep only to see the bedroom door open as Nanami slipped between spaces. Silent mutters help you recognize Nanami's voice, your mind finally catching up to what your senses were telling you. With a squint of your eyes, you look at Nanami with your lips curling downwards. His voice sounded tired, his steps were dragging across the floor, and he simply seemed overworked to no surprise. Overtime simply wasn't anyone's choice of spending the night.

"Kento?" You called out in a groan, still feeling a bit drowsy from your interrupted sleep.

Your tired voice makes him sigh, giving him another reason to feel upset after a long shift. Not at you though, he didn't want to wake you up and he tried really hard to let you rest. With a heavy sigh, his shoulder slouched slightly as he turned to look at you, making his way to sit on the edge of the bed right in front of where you were laying down.

"Sorry, sweetie. Didn't want to wake you up." Nanami whispers, a tinge of jealousy in his voice. Seeing how cozy you looked on the bed made him want to be in your place and be able to rest as easily as you, he needed to lay down next to you and sleep. But he couldn't just yet. "I'm home..." He adds, a hand coming up his face to remove his goggles and holding him in a fist.

"Don't worry about that," You assured him, feeling the bed shift as he sat on the edge of it.

With a yawn, you sit up to try and wake yourself up now that he is back. Despite still being zoned out from sleep, it didn't take much to notice just how exhausted he was. It was a sad sight to your eyes, even sadder knowing that this wasn't new at all.

You wrap your arms around Nanami and pull him down to the bed right on top of you, feeling how he slightly jumped at this. Though he was surprised at the action, he felt himself relax when his head met your chest, realizing a groan out of how nice your body felt after such a long day.

"Welcome home, honey." You whispered, your hand rubbing circles on his back.

"S'tired, soo tired." He mumbled against you, using his hand to rub his eyes as if that would get rid of his fatigue.

However, it was hard considering how he felt like he might drift off at any moment. He couldn't fall asleep. Even if he was struggling to stay awake, he didn't want to sleep just yet when he was still in his work clothes.

It was awful how much this happened and every time you would react the same. How could you keep your lips from frowning when Nanami looked and sounded this tired? When his body practically flopped against yours so easily? Nanami was a hardworking person and you admired that. What you did not admire was how much he pulled over time despite hating it with his entire being, constantly doing it over and over again. But this time it looked like work was harsh on him. Sure, he had no injuries or anything like that. Regardless, it was later than the usual time he came back from overtime and he looked much weary than usual.

You sighed, wishing you could do more than just comfort him. For the time being, all you could do was offer soft caresses over his back. "I know, honey," you whispered.

His head peaks out of your chest, meeting your soft frown at him. Your concerned eyes, your hand on his back, your quiet whispers...you were worried for him, that much was obvious with how gentle you were rather than telling him off for coming home late yet again.

"Sorry. I had to work overtime to-" A yawn cuts him off, his hand muffling his lips while his mind tries to coax him into falling asleep by focusing on how he could rest just like this. Yet, he didn't want to seem rude by simply greeting you and falling asleep on you. You deserved more than just a tired man-

"Why are you apologizing?" You asked softly, cutting his line of thought before you even knew what he was thinking.

In your mind, you saw no reason for him to apologize. Work was work, he was providing just as much (definitely more) than you were and it was normal. What wasn't was how frequently his work would cut not only into their time together but also into his time to rest and relax. You could never hold something like this against him knowing that it wasn't his choice to stay longer at work. Stress, fatigue, soreness in his eyes alone, dark and sunken from how much this has happened as of late.

No. He had no reason to apologize.

But Nanami didn't see it that way. You deserved more than this...not eating alone or going to sleep alone. He wanted and needed to give you some time with him, he didn't want to be this exhausted, barely functioning person to you. Even if you didn't understand why he was apologizing, he still needed to apologize.

"I'm sorry for-"

Your hand took his hand, interrupting him as you wrapped your hand around his and sat up on the bed. With a sigh, you take his goggles from his hand and place them on the nightstand.

"Stop it. You have nothing to apologize for, got it?" You said gently, wanting to be as soft-spoken as you could to not disturb him, let alone let him think that you were angry at him. Why would you get angry over this? It wasn't his fault and you knew that tonight would be different had he had a say in whether he was going to pull overtime tonight.

Helping him sit up again, your hands slip underneath his blazer on his shoulders, rubbing down his arms to help him take it off and setting it on the other side of the bed. As the fabric left his arms, Nanami rested his head against your shoulder with a small groan, placing a hand on your arm to stop you. Sure, it felt nice to have you touch him like this, but he didn't feel like he deserved it. He left you alone for the evening and came home late. How could he let you do more for him than he deserved? His eyes might barely be open and he might be very, very tired, but he couldn't make you feel obligated to help him.

"Darling," he mumbled, sounding unconvincing of pushing your help away, "you don't need to. I..." He sighs, feeling that slight burn in his eyes with a blink, "...I don't want you to see me like this."

He felt very worn-out, slower than usual as if gravity weighed twice as much tonight. Even so, he didn't want you to think you had to help him. He didn't like this side of him where you couldn't lean on him, it made him feel like a burden to you when he had already interrupted your sleep.

But he was met with your head leaning against his, trying to comfort him further as you saw him frown.

If there was something everyone agreed about Nanami it's that he is a selfless person. Someone always wanting to help others, protect them, put them before himself. It was actually one of the many sides that made you fall for him. So it was easy to understand why he was so self-conscious at that moment. It was a juxtaposition of the man he usually is: capable, sufficient, and reliable. Qualities that his fatigue was preventing him from being, but that didn't mean he had to be ashamed of it.

"I wanna help you though."

"You're already doing more than enough by welcoming me home. You should be telling me off for coming so late, not comforting me like this." He explained, his eyelids heavy from the way your warm cheeks touched his temple.

You shook your head, hands coming to his neck and tracing over his tie for her fingers to quickly undo it.

"I've told you already, you have nothing to feel bad for and I have nothing to be angry about." You pulled on his tie, wrapping it around your hand until it was rolled up and then placing it close to his blazer on the bed. "You're tired and overworked. I can't let you do things on your own when I can help you, especially when I want to help my love."

Nanami lifts his head out of your shoulder, trying to straighten up in his seat as you stripped him of the many layers that weighed him down. As much as he tried to make it seem otherwise, you were right—he was tired and overworked, far more than what he could handle. With you so set on helping him, the least he could do was stop his nagging and let you help. It was a bit embarrassing that work has rendered him this weak, not from some kind of injuries but simply because of how body felt ready to shut down at any moment.

Here he was—a grown man of his age acting like a helpless child. He would've protested again had it not been for how devoted towards helping him, towards him. You might be doing what any caring spouse would do, but to him it felt like giving him a small break he didn't deserve.

His lips still find it in them to curl in the slightest as he says tiredly, "thank you, love."

"Happy to help," you answered.

And there it was, that beautiful smile that melted away your frown once he gave in to your aid.

It was silent for a few moments in the room except from the click-click sound after you unclasped his suspenders from his trousers, setting them on the side. There was little to no light, only the nightstand lamp and whatever else managed to slip in from the window, with him tired and you undressing him as your hands slid to his shirt.

Careful to not startle him, your fingers undo his buttons and reveal more and more of his skin with each. Once they were all undone, you slipped your hands underneath his shirt, feeling a few bumps in the way that made you pinch your brows together confused. It wasn't until you started to slide the shirt off his arms that the bumps made sense—they were actually dents that ran front to back on his torso. Though they didn't seem serious, it makes your lips pout.

"I didn't know you had these."

Nanami's eyes look away from you and down to his own chest where your eyes focused on. In all honesty, he rarely acknowledged these—they were just marks left by his suspenders, a small price to pay from his daily attire. Sure, they were tight enough, restrictive enough to leave a mark on his body, but he didn't see any reason to mention them.

"It's nothing, love. They don't hurt at all."

Despite his assurance, your eyes seemed glued to his body. They were just a result of constantly wearing suspenders to a pretty physical job, no pain would come from them. Yet, seeing these marks meant more than just that. It was about the amount of time for these marks to set in the first place, making you realize just how long and much his workday was. Hours that, if they left this kind of mark in his body, were enough to lead to this exhaustion you could see in him.

That's when your fingers begin to think on their own. Your hand comes back up to his shoulder, but rather than resting your palm over it, your fingers graze over the marks and delicately follow down the path on his chest.

As your mind lets your hands do as you wish, Nanami could feel how worried you were from your touch alone. It was gentle but it had that hint of caution, as if too much pressure would make it uncomfortable for him. It made him feel vulnerable. He could see your mind running with all these thoughts from his marks alone. You knew he hated overtime, you knew he was stubborn to work despite his better judgment, and you both knew he needed to rest.

These marks reminded him how much he worked on a day alone.

These marks showed you how hard he worked alone for the two of you.

Underneath your fingertips, Nanami allowed himself to savor your touch further by closing his eyes for a second, unable to prevent the sigh that escapes his lips that makes you snap from your trance and look up at him. Though you knew it was best to hurry up and help him get ready for bed, something within her sparked at his marks. Your free hand decides to follow the other’s steps and comes up to the other side of Nanami’s body, roaming gently down the marks his suspenders have left behind. Soft, delicate, and gentle touches, but most importantly, loving touches.

Nanami stays still, letting you graze all over his body as he swallows down his self-conscious thoughts. It tickled a little to have your hands go so slow and so lightly over his skin, making his muscles tense underneath them. Despite that, he didn’t want your hands to stop, so he doesn't make any effort to as his eyes follow how your hands move down his body and earn a ghost of a moan from him. He couldn’t help himself when his exhaustion made it hard to think much, but you were just being so patient and caring and loving and…and so many other things that made him thank whatever deity that allowed him to be with you, that allowed him to have you as his everything.

Your hands come to a halt at his moan, your heart picking up a pace. At first, you worried the touch was actually hurting or unsettling to him when his body tensed, interpreting his moan as a groan. But when you looked up and saw how his eyes were glued on you and your hands moving across his body as if he wanted to take it all in rather than push you away, you let your hands rest on him and slide back up to his shoulders. You got a little carried away and you didn’t want to tire him any more.

“You do so much for us…for me.” You start with a whisper, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Kento.”

And see, hearing you say that makes absolute nonsense to him. It catches him off guard.

Your eyes meet, him shaking off his exhaustion for a second to open his a bit more, to actually be able to look at you. Despite how your hands and eyes roam up and down his body, Nanami feels no lust or desire under your touch. It was careful, sweet, just as he has come to expect from you whenever you caught him in this state.

This was just his spouse’s stare, you were his spouse. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not you deserved it (you did, that’s simply out of the question). He wanted to do all this, whatever he could for you. He would sacrifice so much just so you wouldn’t have to worry or work hard. As he stares back at you, eyes looking up and down at his beautiful darling before him, he smiled softly. Though your words made no sense to him, they were a reminder of how thankful he was that you worried, that you were thankful for him like he was for you. A reminder of how much he loved you and hoped that, though he didn’t say it out loud enough, you would still know that without a doubt in between the lines…

“You deserved it.” He answers back.

You chuckled. Of course he would think that and smile like this was nothing. Yet, there was something about his smile. You hated how tired it looked, how tired he looked. But when he smiled right now, softly telling her one thing to mean another…You shook your head, shifting your hands on his bare shoulders to rub circles over his skin and soothe whatever tension you could feel there.

“You’re the one working to the point of exhaustion while I fall asleep before you come home. You do much more for me than I do for you.”

“You do a lot for me,” Nanami started, his brows pinching slightly when you kept discrediting yourself, “you work around the house, keep the place nice…you’re taking care of me even right now after I woke you up. You do plenty for me. This is not up for debate.” He chuckles, not even letting you argue about how little you did for him because that wasn’t the case.

Your gaze softness as your hands come up to his jaw before running your fingers down to his chin. Even through that tension and obvious lack of energy, he still found it in him to appreciate her, to be adamant about her contributions and have her see them. Silently, your eyes flash that gratitude of him to him, admiring each feature on his face.

It was a soft touch, the kind of touch that makes you wonder if it was skin to skin or a feather to skin. It was a quiet but loud way of letting him know how much you appreciate him back. The kind of love and fondness that he needed after another shift.

“I’ll always see it that way, you know?” Nanami adds, “It’s for us, so we can be comfortable. But most of all, so I can spoil you like you deserve it.”

You smile at him, unable to keep it in yourself to kiss him so you do. You lean in to press a quick and soft peck on his lips, taking a step further to remind him of how much he meant to you. You lean back, careful to not over do your kiss when he is this tired. But rest assured, that a small kiss such as that one was enough for Nanami to feel the weight of it, making him feel loved.

“Let’s get you off of these, yeah?” You whispered, your hands sliding off the marks from his suspenders, though you made a mental note to show them some extra love when he was much more in the mood.

You kissed his cheek and readjusted how you were sitting on the bed, going back to the reality that it was quite late, he was exhausted, and you both could use the rest. Shaking off those thoughts, you were set back on your original mission to help him get ready for bed. Your hands go down to his belt, carefully undoing it and pulling it off the loops of his trousers.

But it proved to be much harder to shake off those thoughts from earlier when his body was on display like this, especially as you helped him slide off said trousers after putting his belt aside with the rest of his garments. It wasn’t just the suspenders’ marks, but also his muscles coupled with the feeling of his skin and hair against her hands that made Nanami shake his head with a chuckle as he called out your name.

“You’re doing it again, love.” He wasn’t oblivious to the effect he was having on you, how he was getting you going, as he softly mumbled your name softly.

“Doing what?” You asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, trying to play innocent. After all, it was merely a split second you were staring, right?

“Staring at me.” Nanami smiled wider, leaning forward now that this reaction from you gave him a small boost of energy, all just to tease you. “Are you admiring your husband, dear?”

You knew he was just teasing, especially when he was pulling such a pet name by the end of it and leaned forward towards you. You weren’t blind either, apparently you weren’t the only one enjoying a show with your spouse as the star of it, not when his eyes followed your hand and slowly drifted to other parts of you.

“If I was, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one, am I?” You teased right back, looking at him with that smirk still on your face without moving an inch away from him and in fact, deciding to double it down by resting a hand on his thighs.

“A man can’t love the person he married anymore?” Nanami chuckled, silently taking everything in. Your body, your face, your voice…nothing from you was not appealing, you were truly perfect in his eyes.

His answer makes you laugh. You took a small breath, hand sliding off his thigh and across the bed until it finds his own hand, resting yours on top of his as your gaze returns to his. A smile comes to your lips, your heart starting to feel lighter and faster with every beat. Tease or not, Nanami was a natural at making you feel like this.

“A husband can definitely love their spouse.” You replied, your voice having a slight tease in it as well.

“Especially when they are so beautiful.” Nanami adds, his smile growing soft as he leaned against your forehead and closed his eyes. He still felt tired, but he really liked this moment with you right now, feeling as if it was making up for the time he’s been away from you. So he wanted to stay in it a little longer.

“I see, so that’s why you were starting too.” You whispered, though there is the hint of a giggle in your voice that Nanami is able to pick on, going as far as being able to hear your smile.

“Yeah, that is why.” Nanami sighs, laying back on the bed and resting his head on your thighs, groaning softly once he feels his back meet the bed. He could feel how your hands immediately found his hair, gently combing his blond locks with your fingers.

It was comfortable, he didn’t want to move. He wanted to fall asleep just like this. Not yet though. He still wanted to be with you, feel you like this. Even if the two of you weren’t talking much and he was tired out of his mind, you being here and letting him be like this on your lap was enough to calm him further. You being here made him calm.

“I’ve been so busy.” Nanami mumbles, taking a deep breath as his eyes closed for a second.

“It’s okay.” You assured him. “It’s work.”

But there was something in your voice that didn’t match your words. Nanami knew what it was—how much you wanted him to cut back on overtime for his sake. But your words felt as if you were trying to let him know that you wouldn’t hold it against him how his work cuts into his time with you, that he didn’t need to feel that kind of guilt from you. He knew he needed to set a firmer boundary with work so he could put you first like he wanted to, rather than making you worry like this.

Just imagining you falling asleep, waiting for him to come back only for him to come long after, was painful. He didn’t want that for you anymore.

He shakes his head, his hand coming up to yours that was losing its fingers across his hair, stopping your movements. No matter how many times you assured him, how much you tried to be understanding, he didn’t want this to drag on. Work was work, true. But it shouldn’t be overtaking his life, be more important than you were to him. You came before that, and anything for that matter, it wasn’t up to debate. Especially when you were so patient and caring to him despite how neglectful he can be.

“I shouldn’t…” He sighed, taking some time to form over his words. He didn’t want, let alone deserve, so many passes and he wanted to own up to all those times he had to come home late. “Don’t worry so much about me, please,” it’s what he ends up saying.

His words are met with a soft squeeze of your hand after you turn your hand around to be holding his, your free hand coming down to rest around his chest. You could see what he meant with that.

Don’t wait for me.

I can handle myself.

You don’t have to forgive me so easily.

Truth be told, you knew other people would grow irritated at their husbands coming home late, scolding them for the time they finally arrive and leading to distrust. But being married to a jujutsu sorcerer like him…it was a different case. You trusted him with this job, knowing how much more fulfilling it was than working corporate; trusted him to be careful and learned the kind of things he had to deal with. It was a dangerous job, it was exhausting, and you wonder how he can even ask you to not worry. To not worry about Nanami was simply against your marriage vows. You couldn’t do that.

“You’re my husband. I’m supposed to worry about you.”

“Just trust that I’ll be fine.” Nanami said softly, a small sigh leaving his lips as he looked up at you.

He could see that concern in your eyes. Though it is nice to have someone who worries about him, there’s still that annoying part in him that makes him feel guilty for making you worry in the first place. Yet, he knew that he couldn’t blame you. No matter how many times he insisted on you not waiting up for him or on tending his wounds, he knew you would still worry about him. In a way, you both just wanted to do more for the other—you felt like he did a lot for you and he felt like he didn’t do enough for you.

“I’m tired, love,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, “let’s not fight…not tonight.”

“It’s not fighting,” you let go of his hand, letting it slip to his cheek. You knew better than to try and argue when he was this tired, let alone when you knew he had the best intentions even if he dismissed himself so often. “I do trust you, but I still need to care for the person I love so much..”

Nanami chuckled, looking up at you with a tired smile. As he took a deep breath, he could feel how lucky and thankful he was at this moment. Even if a part of him tried to weigh him down with this guilt over how things seemed to be in his mind, you somehow knew how to show him the reality of things. He wasn’t neglectful like his mind was telling him, not when he was trying to peel his eyes open just to spend more time with you. You weren’t forgiving because he was your husband, but because you trusted him enough with your heart. You weren’t worried over him because he came late, you worried because you loved him.

Before he can even answer, you gently pull him off your lap and lay his head back down on the bed. You stand up, patting his shoulder.

“I’ll get your pajamas.” You smile at him, the kind of smile that says don’t worry about a thing, before you turn to his dresser.

Nanami thanks you, sitting up on the bed and stretching his arms and back. The room quiets down, neither of you saying a word as you come back with his night garments and placing them by his side to let him put them on. Not yet done, you take all of his work clothes and turn back to the dresser to put his clothes away while he changes. Some are set aside for the laundry basket, others are hung back up, and others tucked away in the drawers.

Once done with that task, you turn back to head to the bed, laying down underneath the sheets like you were long before he came back for work. He was a bit slow in putting his pajamas on to no one’s surprise since he might as well fall asleep right then and there, but eventually he lays down next to you after turning off the lights, his body facing yours. You wrap an arm around him, pulling yourself closer, sighing when he does the same by rolling on his back and letting you rest your head on his chest to which you happily do.

“I’m surprised you lasted so long without dropping unconscious onto the bed.” You said softly, a tinge of a tease in your voice.

Nanami chuckles, a yawn following soon after as fatigue starts to get to him after god knows how many hours of working.

“So am I. I’ve been like that for hours, honestly.” He pulls you a bit closer, his hand gently grazing up and down your arm. A touch that made your body melt into his body. “But it was worth it. I got to spend more time with you, even if I only had half a brain to see you.”

You hummed, your head turning up to look at him before pressing a kiss on his shoulder. You decided to not say anything, wanting him to get that rest he not only needed but also deserved. That doesn’t mean his words don’t make your heart flutter, even as he says them in that hoarse voice from how tired he was, it made them feel much more softer that he pushed himself to let her know that.

You lift up the covers and let yourself get comfortable with him as your pillow and you in his arms, the two of you cuddling in the quiet and silent room. A few seconds pass, then minutes, and you were sure he had already fallen asleep as evident by his deep breath that made your head rise and fall with his chest, his heart serving as your personal lullaby. Knowing that you had done everything you could for him in this moment, you let yourself close your eyes and begin to return to your sleep from earlier.

Though before you could truly fall into slumber, you feel his head lean against yours, a soft kiss placed on the top of your head that makes your heart beat for him, feeling safe in his arms as he manages to finally answer back to you from earlier:

“I love you too, dear. Thank you…for everything you do.”

Nanami would’ve said more, he probably wanted to have it not been from how his words slurred as his body was finally claimed over by that sleep he pushed off for far too long. After all, now that he finally got his fill of you, he could now rest properly.

286 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 2 months

Note

Can I maybe have an angst/fluff where the reader had turned her humanity off and Elijah is trying his best to flip it back on? Thank you!! Love your work 💕

Forgiveness

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

After a tragic event you flip your humanity switch and begin to terrorize the Quarter. You have to be put down for the good of the city, but your husband will stop at nothing to save you.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) sorry it took so long! ♡♡

5.5k words - Warnings: so so so angsty, violent, reader does some evil shit, a bit of sex but its not sexy, this is definitely the darkest thing I've ever written.. you want angst??? you get angst.

Marcel sat on a stool in a dimly lit bar, staring into his glass of whiskey. He wondered how much more loss he could take, and when it would finally break him.

He was experiencing a kind of helplessness he hadn't experienced since he was a boy, sneaking half rotten apples in his shirt, running home as fast as he could so he wouldn't be caught.

He couldn't outrun his feelings now. They followed him wherever he went, nipping at his heels, mocking him for the things he couldn't fix, the things he couldn't undo.

It wasn't his fault, not really, yet he felt guilty, because a part of him still cared for you. Even after all you had done. All you had become.

He was pulled out from his melancholy by one of his nightwalkers, a vampire called Arthur, a man who had served in the first World War, and came to New Orleans, looking for the easy life.

He sat down next to Marcel and placed a gold chain necklace on the table, it had distinct little jewels, each one a different color. Marcel recognized it instantly and his heart sank at the flecks of blood still clinging to it.

"Jean," he said softly, picking the necklace up and examining it.

Arthur nodded his head. "I found her in an alleyway, anyone could of come across it," he told Marcel.

"How bad?" Marcel asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not pretty. I got rid of the body."

"Thanks," Marcel said, and he meant it. He didn't want a bunch of human detectives finding the body and raising questions. "I told Jean not to go after her," he said, shaking his head, the weight of his regret was almost crushing.

Arthur poured himself a drink, and looked at Marcel with a raised brow.

"What else was she supposed to do? Sit at the bar and mope while her friends are slaughtered," he said, taking a swig.

"You know it's not that simple," Marcel told him.

Arthur sighed, "I know," he said, "but we gotta stop her, she's killing us off, one by one,"

Marcel finished his drink, his knuckles turning white around the glass.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice breaking, "I know."

He looked down at his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl around, wondering if he could ever drink enough to forget who you used to be, if he would ever get you back. The ironic part was that he needed some solid advice and the person he usually would go to was you.

He threw his glass on the ground and it shattered on the floor, causing the other vampires in the bar to jump.

"Fuck," he yelled, standing up, looking around at his people. "Listen up, she got Jean," he paused as the crowd murmured in shock, "and I'm not gonna stand here and let her kill anyone else," he announced.

"What about Elijah?" A young vampire asked.

"Fuck him," Marcel shouted, "he will let us all die before he hurts his precious wife."

"If you see her, bring her to me, and I will give you the daylight ring of your choice," he promised, and the crowd cheered.

"Now go, and do not approach her alone," he ordered, and the group dispersed.

"We got this Marcel," Arthur told him.

Marcel gave him a nod and watched him leave. His heart broke for what he knew he had to do. He would stop you, no matter what it took.

A soft low moan came tumbling past your lips as you rocked your hips forward, and dug your nails deeper into the neck of the man beneath you. His eyes were closed in a mix of ecstasy and pain, and his hips thrust upwards, chasing the pleasure you were giving him.

"Don't cum," you compelled him, and his body tensed beneath you.

"Please," he begged, his hands reaching for you, grabbing your thighs and squeezing.

You moaned and lifted yourself up, and then slammed down onto him, hard. He cried out in pleasure, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Please," he choked out, and you could see the tears pooling in his eyes.

You were getting tired of him. His stamina was abysmal, and you assumed that since he was covered in tattoos he enjoyed a bit of pain. You had been disappointed when you had learned that wasn't the case.

"Don't be a bitch," you spat, "and shut up."

He nodded, and you could tell he was struggling. You sighed, and grabbed him roughly by the hair, pulling his head to the side and exposing his neck.

He groaned, and you bit into his neck, making sure your teeth sliced deep. Blood poured from his neck, you could taste a hint of the endorphins rushing through him and smiled. You sucked on his wound, and began moving again.

His breathing hitched, and his whole body was shaking, you knew it wouldn't take long for him to reach his orgasm.

"You can cum now," you told him, and he moaned, and his fingers dug into your hips.

You continued rocking into him, and a few seconds later he let out a strangled cry, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you.

You smiled through bloodied teeth then sunk your fangs back into his neck, tasting the flood of endorphins. You continued to drink, feeling him struggle underneath you.

"Too much," he wheezed, trying to push you away, but he was far too weak.

You kept going until his breathing slowed, and his body stopped moving. You pulled back and let his body slump onto the bed, looking down disappointedly.

"I don't even get an orgasm out of it," you complained, rolling your eyes.

You lifted yourself off him, stretching and cracking your neck.

You glanced over at the woman laying in the chair in the corner of the room, and frowned. You had forgotten about her. She was alive, her chest rising and falling, her heartbeat thumping loudly.

You had compelled her to be silent and still, she was doing an excellent job. You stood up and walked towards her. She stared at you with wide, terrified eyes. You were naked, and covered in blood, it dripped down your face, and neck, and coated your breasts and legs.

"Oh, honey," you cooed, brushing her hair out of her face. "I'm so sorry, was that your boyfriend?"

The woman whimpered, tears spilling out of her eyes, and you shushed her, gently running your thumb over her bottom lip.

"You shouldn't stay with a cheater," you told her, and she looked at you in confusion, "and you should choose better men," you advised, then snapped her neck.

You went to the bathroom, and turned the shower on, and stepped under the hot stream, letting the water wash away the blood and cum.

Your mind was calm, the only thought swirling around in your head was your desire to drink and fuck, and the two together was an amazing combination.

You washed yourself quickly, then found a dress and slid it over your wet body. It clung to your skin, but you didn't mind.

You put on some jewelry you found and checked yourself out in the mirror. You were beautiful, and the darkness behind your eyes made you look deadly.

You smiled, satisfied with your appearance, and left the hotel, deciding to find your next victim.

New Orleans was a big city, but it was full of sin, and you loved walking the streets, feeling its pulse, and knowing that somewhere there was a soul aching for you to feed on.

You could have compelled yourself a meal, but where was the fun in that? There was something so satisfying about hunting and the chase was exhilarating.

You walked down a back street, thinking about having a redhead for dinner when the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your stomach clenched.

You were being followed.

You sped up and the person followed suit, and you smiled. Finally, something to cure your boredom. You took a sharp left, and the footsteps following you became hurried.

"Fuck," a male voice shouted, and you laughed, and took another left, and then a right, and a left again. Leading them exactly where you wanted.

You were back near the hotel, and you slipped into the alleyway and waited. You were going to enjoy this.

You didn't have to wait long, a few seconds later a vampire rounded the corner and stopped when he saw you.

"Arthurrr, it's been a while," you said, licking your lips. "I thought you and your merry band of idiots would have learned their lesson by now," you told him.

"Well, you know me, I'm a slow learner," he replied, standing at the head of the alley, his arms crossed.

"Jean was such a nice girl, you guys were together, right?" You asked, knowing full well they were.

"We were," Arthur said, his jaw clenching, and you could see the hurt in his eyes.

"She was so sweet, always so eager to please," you continued, taking a step towards him, "and so willing to do anything for those she loved," you said, pausing, "it's a shame that you're all so willing to die for one another," you finished, taking another step forward.

"Has Elijah seen you like this?" Arthur asked, taking a step back, his hand sliding into his pocket.

"What, covered in blood and looking sexy as hell," you replied, grinning at him.

"No, like a monster."

Arthur watched you freeze, a flicker of emotion crossing your face. It was gone as fast as it came and your expression went cold again and you smirked at him.

It hurt him to see you like this, you had been his friend for decades. But this wasn't about him and you, it was even about his beloved Jean. He didn't care if Elijah would tear him apart for it. He would not let you hurt another person he loved. He had to put you down, like a rabid dog.

"Isn't that what we are Artie? Monsters."

"Not all of us," he said, his voice cracking.

"Come on, don't be shy," you said, stepping closer, "I'll let you get a hit in."

Arthur reached into his pocket and felt the needle he prepared. You were much older and stronger than he was, but all he had to do was get close enough to you and shove the needle into your skin and maybe he could end this nightmare

Marcel knelt down over Arthur's body, or at least what was left of it. He didn't have anymore tears left in him to shed.

"I'm sorry, my friend, go be with Jean," he whispered, closing Arthur's eyes.

"And Mark, Jessa, Sean, Patrick..." Said a voice from behind him.

Marcel closed his eyes and sighed, turning around and looking up at Elijah.

"How can you be so fucking callous?" Marcel snarled.

Elijah didn't know how to respond. He was numb, and the pain had become too much. He was barely holding himself together, the only thing keeping him going was his promise.

He was going to save you, no matter the cost.

"Are you just going to stand there and act like you don't care?" Marcel spat, standing up, anger and resentment coursing through him.

"Don't make this any worse than it already is," Elijah said.

"You are killing us!" Marcel shouted, taking a step towards him.

Elijah shook his head and clenched his fists, and Marcel saw the pain in his eyes. He stopped himself and took a breath.

"Elijah, she is out of control, you need to do something," he said, his voice softer.

"I know," Elijah agreed. "But... she's... I can't, not yet," he stuttered, his voice breaking, "just a few more days," he pleaded, looking at Marcel desperately.

"A few more days," Marcel scoffed, "Elijah, if you don't stop her, I will have to kill her."

Elijah flashed forward and shoved Marcel into the wall.

"You won't lay a finger on her," Elijah growled, his face inches from Marcel's.

"I don't want to," Marcel told him, and Elijah could see the truth in his eyes. "But I can't let her keep doing this, you can't expect us to sit around and let her murder everyone we love."

"Marcel..." Elijah warned, his grip tightening.

"Elijah, this has to stop," Marcel said, shoving Elijah back, "I have to stop her, before she kills the whole fucking Quarter," he exclaimed, his eyes glistening.

"I know you Mikaelsons only care about yourselves, so let me put this in a way you will understand." Marcel took a breath, and tried to remain calm. "We can't hide what she's doing anymore. The humans are scared, and are starting to ask questions. If this continues, they will figure out that we exist, and the whole world will come down on New Orleans, and none of us will make it out alive."

Elijah's shoulders slumped and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"What would you have me do, Marcel?" Elijah asked, his voice soft and defeated.

"Turn her humanity back on."

You felt like shit, cold yet hot, your throat was on fire and every limb ached. You sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and blinked several times. Your vision was blurry, and it took a moment for the room to come into focus.

You thought it was just vervain in that needle, nothing a couple of drinks couldn't fix, but when you started to see things that weren't there, you realized that Arthur must have dosed you up with wolfsbane.

You managed to crawl into some hole of an apartment to hide from the hallucinations, hoping when you woke up you would be feeling better.

But it didn't, you were dying. You could feel it.

"No," you moaned, falling back against the wall, the reality of your situation sinking in.

"You didn't think I would just let you die," a soft, familiar voice spoke.

"You're not real," you told him, refusing to look at him.

"That doesn't mean I'm not here."

You looked up and Elijah was standing in front of you. You sighed and closed your eyes, but he was still there, in your mind.

"What kind of monster are you?" He asked and you laughed.

"Child killer," you answered, looking at him, his expression was blank. "Murderer, adulterer, thief, blasphemer..." You listed, but he remained expressionless.

"Whore," he added and you laughed again.

"I'm a terrible wife," you said, smiling.

"You are a monster," he repeated.

"So are you," you snapped.

"I never claimed to be otherwise," he said.

"If you are real you should kill me," you suggested.

"I'm not real," he reminded you.

"I know, the real you would never call me a whore," you replied, and he chuckled.

"I'm dying Elijah," you stated, your eyes welling up with tears, "this is it, I can feel it."

"What are you going to do about it?"

You took a deep breath and stood up, leaning against the wall for support.

"I'm going to go get the cure," you decided, stumbling out into the night.

The compound wasn't far from the apartment, and the cold air helped you wake up, and your head was clearer, and you could focus on your destination.

"Why not let yourself die?" Elijah asked, walking alongside you.

"Living is much more fun, so many possibilities," you said, "food, sex, money..."

"Family, friends..." He added.

"Waste of time," you dismissed, waving him away, watching him dissolve.

You pushed through the iron gates, trying your best to compose yourself. You entered the courtyard and saw a few nightwalkers scattered around, they didn't notice you and continued drinking and chatting.

"Where is Klaus?" You asked loudly.

Everyone turned and looked at you, and the room fell silent. All you could see was their fear and it amused you.

"I will not ask again," you said, smiling sweetly.

"In his studio," someone answered, and you gave them a nod, and walked past then, heading upstairs.

You barged right in and found him standing in front of an easel, painting. He only painted when he was troubled, and his canvas was filled with darkness and death.

"Lovely," you commented, walking towards him.

Klaus didn't turn to look at you, he simply continued to paint. "Elijah isn't home, but I expect you know that already," he said.

"How perceptive," you remarked.

"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" He asked.

"I need your blood," you told him.

"Rather bold of you to ask, considering the circumstances," he said, finally turning to look at you.

You didn't know what to say. You had no words, and for once you were lost for a witty remark. You just stared at him, and he studied you.

"I've been hearing about your extracurriculars," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Is that so," you replied, and the corners of your mouth curled up.

"Killing a child, now that's unexpected," he remarked.

You ignored him, unable to respond, because it wasn't something you wanted to think about. You could see your hallucination of Elijah staring at you from the corner of the room. A small child appeared next to him, blood pouring out of her neck.

"Why didn't you save me?" She asked, her eyes filled with pain and betrayal.

"Shut up," you whispered, shaking your head.

"She died in pain, and you did nothing," the vision of Elijah said, and you closed your eyes, trying to will it all away. It was becoming irritating.

"I'm sure the mother will be most upset," Klaus said.

"Spare me the guilt trip, you've done far worse," you spat, opening your eyes, relieved the visions had disappeared.

Klaus observed your disheveled state and noticed how much you were sweating, and the dark circles under your eyes. You were clearly unwell, and it explained why you risked coming back to the compound. You really did need his blood.

"I have, love. But that's just who I am, it's not who you are," he replied, turning back to his canvas.

"Well, I've always wanted to try the whole serial killer thing," you said, trying to sound light-hearted, but the joke fell flat, and neither of you laughed.

"So you killed the child because you wanted to? Because you enjoy doing such things? I'm not even that diabolical." He chuckled, adding a bit of white to the canvas.

"Yes, Klaus, I wanted to kill her, I wanted her to suffer, and I wanted to see the look on her mother's face as I did it."

Klaus set his brush down, and turned back to you. "That's a lie, it was an accident, Marcel told me," he said, watching your eyes widen, and your face fall.

"It was an accident," the little girl's ghost said, appearing in front of you.

You stumbled back, bumping into the sofa, and the girl was right in front of you.

"Why didn't you save me?" She repeated, tears filling her eyes.

"FUCK!" You yelled, your hands gripping the sides of your head.

"Wolfsbane is one hell of a trip," Klaus said casually, watching you stumble back from something he couldn't see.

"If you won't give me your blood, just kill me, I rather not die in agony," you told him.

"Do you think you deserve it?" He asked.

"Deserve what? Death, mercy, life? Who knows, who cares," you answered.

"I think Elijah does," Klaus said, and you froze.

"I'm not talking about this with you," you said, turning to leave.

"Despite what you may think, I do consider you family, even in the state you are in," he said, and he saw the look of surprise on your face.

"Ahh, there it is," he said softly, "a flicker of feeling just under the surface, fight your way back y/n," he encouraged.

Frustration was the only thing you were feeling and you lashed out, pushing over his easel, knocking his paints off the table.

He raised his eyebrows at your outburst and laughed, it was a rough, genuine laugh, and he grinned at you.

"Very well, Elijah wouldn't be pleased if I let you die and I kind of like you like this," he admitted, "though, you are rather irritable."

You stopped yourself from talking back, just needing to get your hands on his blood. You didn't want to waste any more time with him.

"Now, what am I going to ask in return," Klaus said, stroking his chin, "something I've been wanting for a very long time."

"If you want to fuck you don't have to bribe me," you told him.

"As tempting as that is, no," he said, grinning. "I want a favor, in the future," he offered.

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"That's the beauty of a favor, it can be anything," he said.

"Fine," you snapped, "blood now please,"

Klaus smirked and opened a drawer in the table, taking out a vial and handing it to you. You snatched it from his hand and uncapped the lid, gulping the blood down.

"What hallucinations were you having?" He asked, and you froze, and he laughed.

"Private ones," you replied, placing the empty vial on the table.

"You're no fun," he pouted. "You have my blood now, get out," he said, returning to his canvas.

You didn't argue, leaving him to his painting, and returned to the main courtyard. You stood there, trying to figure out your next move. You knew what was waiting for you if you turned your humanity back on. Guilt and self-loathing, and the pain of knowing what you've done, and not being able to take it back.

You needed to leave the city before they forced you to turn it back on. There was nothing here for you anyway, not anymore.

"That's her," you heard someone say, and looked around.

"Are you sure?" Another asked.

"I'm sure," the first one confirmed.

They were staring right at you, but the fear in their eyes from earlier was gone, replaced with anger and resentment. You smiled and flashed forward, snapping the neck of the vampire who had identified you.

The rest charged, and you were surrounded by vampires, but it wasn't a challenge. You were far older and stronger than them. The courtyard turned into a slaughterhouse and the floor was covered in blood.

You were standing over a body, tearing the heart out when Marcel called your name. You dropped the heart and slowly turned, your lips curling up into a smirk.

Marcel grabbed your arm, trying to break your hold, but it was no use, you were stronger than him. You smiled, digging your fingers deeper, and he gasped.

"Marcellus," you greeted, smirking. Before he could react you slammed him against the wall. "I was hoping I would run into you," you said, pressing your hand into his chest. "We have some unfinished business,"

"I taught you better than that sweet Marcel," you taunted, twisting your wrist.

Marcel looked into your eyes, full of emotion, and you couldn't tell if it was sadness or pity.

"Stop this," he said, his grip tightening, and he tried to push you back. "I don't want to kill you," he said, his voice softer.

"And why not?" You asked, digging your fingers deeper, his face twisted in pain.

"Because..." he choked out, his heart slowing down, and his vision blurred, "I know you are still in there, my friend, and I'm not going to lose you,"

"I was so boring, so full of weakness," you told him, "this is who I was meant to be."

"No, you're not," he gasped, struggling to breathe, his legs buckling under the pressure. "You were the woman who helped raise me, would bake me apple pies whenever I had a bad day, would let me sleep in the same bed as her and Elijah when I had a nightmare, the woman who taught me love and compassion," he told you, and his grip tightened on your arm.

"And now she is hurting because she made a mistake, and that is something that I can forgive, because I know her heart is good."

You laughed coldly, his attempts to manipulate you not working, and you tightened your grip. You didn't want to hear anymore from him, his words were getting under your skin in a way that caused fear to trickle in.

"Goodbye, Marcel," you said, squeezing his heart, and it was too late for him to stop you, his strength was leaving him.

"Darling, put Marcellus down," said the last voice you wanted to hear. The one that could make all your pain return.

You felt him behind you, his hand on your waist. Your breath caught in your throat and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

"Let him go," Elijah said softly, his hand moving to your arm, keeping you from tearing Marcels heart out.

"Fuck off Elijah," you growled, struggling to get free, but his grip was like a vice.

"We can do this the hard way if you insist, I have no issue breaking your neck," he warned.

"You would never do that to your precious wife," you taunted, tugging in Elijah's grasp causing Marcel to cough up more blood.

Elijah let out a long sigh, then he moved faster than you could comprehend and everything went black.

You woke in a small windowless room, only a few candles illuminating the space. You were in a chair, your wrists bound by chains.

"You're awake," a voice came from the shadows, and Elijah stepped into the light.

"This is kinky, even for you Elijah," you teased.

He did not look amused, sadness and regret filled his eyes, and he had never looked so broken. He knelt in front of you, and rested his hand on yours.

"Turn it back on," he demanded, looking into your eyes.

"I can't," you lied.

"Yes, you can," he said, his grip tightening.

"No, I can't," you argued, "turning it off was the best decision I have ever made."

"What happened was an accident, it wasn't your fault," Elijah said, and you could see the pain in his eyes, "and turning off your emotions does not fix things, it only makes it worse."

You let him talk, he was so good at it, his deep sexy voice creating a perfect melody of bullshit. But you let him think he was getting through to you as you subtly slipped out of your restraints. Your loving husband was so trusting.

"We can work through this, I can help you," he continued, "I love you," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"I know," you replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and without a word you freed yourself from the chains and sped to the door.

Elijah was quicker, blocking your path. You let out a huff and tried to push past him, but he shoved you back and grabbed your shoulders.

You felt anger again, the only thing you could feel and you unleashed it on him. Clawing, scratching, striking him wherever you could. He took everything you threw at him, and eventually, he trapped you against the wall.

You let you a high pitched scream, it was feral and animalistic, and you thrashed in his grip, but his body pressed against yours, his hands on either side of your head, keeping you still.

"Stop," he said softly, it was barley a whisper.

Your body was pressed firmly against his, and you could feel his heart racing.

"Please," he begged, his eyes filling with tears.

He didn't look angry or annoyed, he looked sad, and it wasn't until then that you noticed his blood, covering your hands and clothes, and you realized how much you had hurt him.

"Just stop, please," he said, his voice cracking, and you knew the pain was too much.

You looked up at him and felt your anger give way into sadness. It was just a trickle, a soft misting of emotion, but it was there. You knew what was coming next.

You felt the weight of everything that had happened, all the hurt, and the pain, and the death, and it consumed you. The dam broke and you wanted, no, needed; to turn it off again.

Elijah could see the torment in your eyes, the light flickering behind them, fighting to return.

"Do you know why I fell in love with you? Why I married you?" He said softly, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"You pity me, that's all," you said.

"Because," he began, taking your hand in his, "you have a heart," he said, placing your palm on his chest, "that's bigger than anything else, your kindness is endless. Even as a vampire you have always helped more than you've harmed, and that is a gift that not many have."

"Elijah," you whimpered, feeling the weight of his words and the force of your emotions bearing down on you.

"And I can't watch you destroy yourself any longer, because if you die, a part of me will die with you," he finished, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours. "You have to feel all the pain, it's worth it, because you also can experience the love," he said, gently cupping your face, "the love I have for you."

You couldn't help yourself, the flood gates had opened, and there was no closing them. You let out a small gasp, and the tears streamed down your cheeks, and he kissed them away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sobbed, clinging to him.

"It's alright," he hushed, pulling away and brushing the tears from your cheeks.

You didn't respond, you couldn't. You felt a wave of nausea wash over you, and your knees buckled. Elijah caught you, and pulled you close, holding you tight.

"I got you, it's okay," he assured, lifting you off your feet.

He sat down in the chair and held you on his lap. You couldn't stop crying, your face buried in the crook of his neck, and he cradled you.

"I'm a monster," you said quietly, and he held you closer.

"Not to me, never to me," he said, his fingers combing through your hair, and he felt you tremble.

"I killed her," you whimpered, your body tensing and your eyes clenched shut. "An innocent,"

"Shhh," he hushed, and you clung to him.

"How could I," you said, pulling away from him.

"It wasn't your fault. It was an accident, you tried to save her," he reminded, stroking your cheek.

"What's the point of having the power to heal when I can't even save a child," you cried, the guilt and shame tearing you apart.

"She fell, no one could have stopped it, not even Niklaus," he said, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling your head forward.

His lips brushed over your forehead, and he planted a small kiss. "Let's go home," he whispered, and your eyes widened.

"I can't, everyone will hate me, I deserve to die," you protested, pushing him away.

"You've been my wife for five hundred years, but only now have you become a true Mikaelson," he chuckled, picking you up and carrying you to the door.

It would take time, penance, and a lot of groveling to repair the damage you had done, and there was a chance some of them may never forgive you, but you had a chance now, to make amends, and that was all you could hope for.

It had been a week since you turned your humanity back on, and it was still painful, and overwhelming.

Klaus came to you one day, while Elijah was out. He had his hands in his pockets and he leaned against the doorframe. He could see how much you were struggling, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm here to call in that favor," he announced, and your eyes narrowed.

"What do you want?" You asked, not bothering to look at him. "I'm really not in the mood, so say it fast and get out."

"You need to promise me that you will fulfill it, no matter how difficult," he warned, and you groaned, rolling your eyes.

"Just spit it out Klaus," you said, glaring at him.

"Forgive yourself."

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bringbacktim · 3 months

Text

America² part two

It's been a long time coming and I'm so so so sorry for making you guys wait this long , the fanfic writer curse of having the worst luck caught up to me recently. This got wrote in shifts so might not be the same quality throughout. Not edited or proofread. Written whilst I was half asleep most of the time

Word count: 5.5k words

Warnings: smut , unprotected sex (don't do this irl) , face slapping, curse words , use of cock dick pussy etc ,I think that's it

I am so glad this season is over" Oscar said as he had his last bite of food

"Can't wait to just dissappear for winter break" Y/n agreed as logan hummed in agreement

"Are you going back to florida or are you going to do some traveling?" Oscar asked logan

"Yeah are you going to have a fuckboy Winter break like you usually do or did everyone finally realise how awful you are?" Y/n teased

"Haha , I never had any fuckboy winterbreaks but I've heard about how you've been slutted about in past season breaks" logan said only realising after how mean it was and how he shouldn't have said it in such a public setting

"Slutted out? Jesus Sargeant, you almost sound jealous " she laughed knowing she'll definitely get some new dirt on him, already knowing some humiliating kinks he has,when he inevitably either Jack's off on the other side of the hotel wall with his porn way too loudly or when he brings some girl back to the hotel to celebrate the last race of the season

"You wish" he scoffed and rolled his eyes

"Now now children" Oscar said leaning into his role of their mother whenever they insulted each other

"So what are you and lily doing for winter break? Going anywhere nice?"

Y/n asked cutting logan off from his snarky remark

"Hopefully somewhere hot and far away from you two" the Aussie replied getting an "oi" in reply from both of them

"Rude, you love us really" Y/n scoffed

"What like you and logan love each other"

"Yeah! ... wait no " logan said realising Oscar wasn't being nice

"How do they let you drive an f1 car man , they should give you a 5 lap headstart cause is there even a brain up there" she joked knocking on his head and saying "nope hollow" after to which he winced and rubbed his head

"Are you guys coming to the after party?" Oscar asked wanting to party with his friends

"Depends if logan is going" Y/n said

"And how big the place is" logan added

"It's got to fit everyone we work with in so I'd say pretty big, plenty of space to hide from each other or sneak off in a dark corner and do god knows what" he added laughing when their faces contoured in disgust

"Let it go Oscar, we're not gonna fuck before the end of the season, but I will be attending the after party" Y/n said getting her coat and leaving

"God what is her problem?" Logan said watching her walk away ,his eyes definitely didn't graze down to her ass as she angrily stomped away or anything why would you think that .

"Sexual frustration I think" Oscar joked which earned him a punch to the shoulder from the male American who walked off aswell not before calling Oscar a perv

At the hotel they all relaxed for a bit and then started to get slowly ready for the after party. Y/n deciding to blast some fun music not caring about the guy she shared a thin wall with . Obviously a mistake as he came stomping from his room to hers with a scowl on his face as he angrily knocked on her door . Expecting one of her friends she was going to the party with she opened the door in the sports bra and pyjama shorts she put on after her shower discarding her shirt when she heard the knocks

Swinging it open and revealing the last person she ever expected left her with a Shocked expression on her face and an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach about what she was wearing , crossing her arms over her chest to cover the skin there , but that only gave the effect of a push up bra which didn't really help logan trying desperately not to look down there while she complains that he's at her door for literally no reason

"Did you hear me ? I said why are you standing at my door?" She asked snapping her fingers infront of his face

"Oh right, can you turn the music down I can't hear myself think in my room" he said trying to shake the inappropriate thoughts he was having

"Well I cranked the volume up cause you usually jerk it or bring some girl back at this time and I didn't want to hear it, so you're welcome"

"I didn't thank you , and why would I . For creepily knowing when I jerk off ? You probably do it the other side of the wall to me" he accused

"Don't act like oscar didn't tell me about the time you called someone else my name when you came" Y/n said with a smug look

"In my defence i thought you two had the same name"

"I heard her say she her name was valentine, incase you haven't noticed thats nothing like Y/n. Just admit you want us to hate fuck just as much as oscar does"

"Fuck off , just turn the music down" he said walking back to his room *and definitely not thinking of how his hands or dick would feel in between her boobs* god what is with his mind today

It took him longer to get ready than usual thanks to the thoughts he was having , and the bulge in his trousers that wouldn't go down no matter what innocent thought he tried to imagine

He was half dressed in a nice shirt and was trying to put his jeans up his legs before quickly realising the bulge in his boxers was not going to go down and he would have to do something about it

Putting some music on to get him in the mood and so the girl on the other side of the wall that he may or may not be imagining stroking him right now instead of his own hand won't hear his desperate whines

Trying to get this over with so he can go party with his friends , he quickens his pace and starts to slightly flick his wrist in a way that has his head lolling back and leaving him breathless

"Fuck-" he moaned out hoping the music masked it and she wouldn't be able to hear it or the skin against skin

He was delving into his deepest dirtiest fantasies to try for once to bust in under 5 minutes

She was in her room on the other side of the wall being bombarded with questions from Oscar about where logan was, whether he was ready to go or not etc as if she was his babysitter . She tried knocking on his door but got no answer, she knocked on the door that connected the two rooms and again no answer but she could hear music playing so assumed he just couldn't hear her so she opened the door just enough so she could get a peek to make sure he was decent and then was going to knock on the wood

But when she saw him doing the last thing she thought he'd be doing right now , her hand didn't come up to knock on the door as fast as it probably should have, but seeing him head pressed into the pillow eyes closed as his chest heaved with every whine or strangled moan that escaped his mouth the waistband of his boxers down enough to let his cock escape but still keep him covered , his glorious slightly sweaty veiny arms working hard to keep up with the fast pace he had set for himself

Y/n found herself mouth agape stood in his doorway wondering why him moaning was so incredibly hot to her and why her feet were walking closer to the bed

"Y/n" he moaned stopping her in her tracks , especially since his eyes were closed and he definitely wouldn't have heard her walk in due to the music blasting . She wouldn't admit it , but it did make her heart beat a little quicker

She put her palm over her eyes as she turned to music off to make it look like she hadn't been staring , this caused him to sit up quicker than anyone ever has and cover himself with a pillow that was beside him

"Y/n!! What are you doing here?" He asked feeling rather exposed

"Oscar kept asking me about whether you were ready or not and you're door was locked and you didn't hear me knock" she explained palm still firmly over her eyes

"You can take your hand away I'm not doing anything" he said trying to make this less uncomfortable

"Are you sure this isn't a plan to get me to see your dick?" She said trying to fall back into her hating him persona

"Don't act like I didn't feel you staring as you walked in"

"You didn't even know I walked in!" She accused

They hadn't realised Oscar had walked in through the open door until he spoke up

"Nice to see you're ready like I said to be logan" he said scaring both of them

"I'm half way done okay , just let me get my pants on and we can leave"

"Okay do we need to turn around while you put your cock away or what?" Y/n joked half hoping he'd say no

"Woah woah wait , what were you two doing before I walked in ? You were watching him wank weren't you?" Oscar accused the pair infront of him

" Can't believe you'd think so lowly of me , you couldn't pay me to watch that"she said

"Yeah cause you can watch it for free through a crack in my door like the creep you are" logan bit back

"Oh I'm the creep? Who moaned who's name whilst getting off tonight me or you?"

"I mean I didn't hear you getting off but I'd take a chance and say you" he smugly laughed

"There is way too much sexual tension right now and it smells like dick and balls so we'll leave you to get ready and meet us in the hallway" Oscar said before his friends had the chance to fuck infront of him

After they got back to Y/n's room Oscar was bombarding her with questions about logan moaning her name since this wasn't the first time logan had said her name whilst aroused

It was no longer than 10 minutes later when logan met them in the hallway and they were getting in the taxi to go the party

When they got there everyone went their separate ways and found their friends who they would spend most of the night with

Oscar and logan did meet up throughout the night , mostly so Oscar could try and get a confession out of logan not that he ever did , much to Oscar's disappointment . He also spoke to Y/n to see if she would give him any indication that she liked logan romantically but she was nowhere near drunk enough

The party was more boring than they thought it was going to be partly because toto didn't crowd surf that year and partly because neither Y/n nor Logan could stop thinking about what would've happened if Oscar hadn't have walked in . Would she have given him a helping hand , or mouth , would he let her stand and watch him get off to the thought of her , would they do the things he was imagining ? The world may never know what would've happened because of the Australian that bounced in the room

Thanks to the free bar and friends shoving drinks into the sexually frustrated and confused pairs hands the thoughts about each other were kept on the back-burner well atleast until they were both in their hotel rooms one last time before winter break where they could do whatever they wanted while thinking about whoever they wanted

Unfortunately, nothing happened in the club as they couldn't find each other and they had some self respect as to not fuck in the disgusting club bathroom

They thought they were in the clear of not seeing each other until the next season started in three months which meant they could spend that time pretending like they weren't developing feeling for each other , but post season testing slipped both of their minds and they would have to see each other on track one last time that year

They had two days to try and act like they still hated each other , but that was proving difficult as everytime one of them closed their eyes they would relive the scene that happened in his hotel room days before

In post season testing , they let reserve drivers or f2 drivers have the chance to drive an f1 car so logan and Y/n weren't needed until the second half of the day so we're free to watch or just entertain themselves until it was their turn

They mostly stood around in their respective garages going over data or scrolling their phones in their driver rooms

Logan was being hard on himself based on the data from the season and how bad he felt he did , which was a sad sight to see. Y/n was in a similar position as annoyingly enough the Americans finished one after the other in the standings which just gave every reporter and journalist another way to compare the two

Her and oscar did visit the Williams garage so Oscar could try and cheer him up Y/n was only there as she was talking to Oscar as he walked towards the garage , but it was clear he was ticked off and needed to blow off some steam. While Oscar was thinking of how to take his mind off of the had results Y/n was stood daydreaming which didn't really help logan as the last thing he needed was to have her stood infront of her race suit tied around her waist showing her tight fireproofs as she stood there looking pretty . She had to be doing it on purpose he thought

They were meant to be setting up to get logan on track , but George had just crashed his Mercedes and red flagged the session which meant more waiting in the Abu Dhabi sun and the inappropriate thoughts he couldn't get out of his head weren't helping with the heat

What also didn't help was when he saw her get out of her car , ass pushing the limits of her race suit as she gripped the halo , oh how logan wished her fingers were wrapped around something else

When she came and knocked on his driver room door to see if he wanted to go find somewhere to eat while they get the race going again , he thought his head was going to explode from the thoughts he definitely shouldn't be having as he saw her leaning against his door frame asking a polite question that Oscar definitely made her ask . It was the straw that broke the camels back when someone dropped what he assumed was a piece of equipment in the garage making her boobs jiggle as she jumped

He strode over to her as she just looked back confused because he hadn't answered her question but instead pressed a firm kiss to her lips . When he pulled back there was obviously a bewildered look on her face because to kiss her out of the blue is crazy enough but to do it infront of whoever could see them was another level

She pushed him into the room before returning the kiss as his hands slipped to her waist

"What was that for?" She asked not actually caring she thought she'd ask for when Oscar asked her after she told him

"Oscar said I need to let off some steam and I think I've found a perfect way" he laughed as his fingers traced the sliver of skin where her fireproofs separated

"You're so annoying" she whined as he made no move to take any clothing off of her

"Shut it ,we don't have time for foreplay, but you're probably wet enough for me to take you right now" he teased as his fingers trailed down her body and inside the bottom half of what she was wearing as she pulled his clothes over his head and kissed him again tongues fighting

As they made out and stripped , he walked them both to the little sofa in the corner of the room and sat down . As their lips separated she was going ask what position he wanted to do ,but he patted his lap before she could

"Protection?" She asked not fancying getting an sti from the fuckboy of miami

"In my bag , side pocket" he lazily pointed not bothering to get up and get it

As he stroked himself while she went up and got the condom he pinched himself to make sure he wasn't having another dream

When she rolled the condom on and sunk down on him he realised this was better than any dream he'd had because it was actually real

"Fuck" he moaned as he leaned his head back on his hands and watched her ride him hissing as he was almost too big on the way down

"Am I going to do all the work or are you going to help?" She asked trying to catch her breath not bothering to stop moving her hips

He didn't answer and instead just grabbed her hips and gave some rough thrusts before rubbing her clit furiously as she whined in his ear and bit his shoulder to stay quiet as she came on his cock

"Clean yourself up and then you can suck me off before we have to go back to racing" he said knowing there was nothing in his room she could use to clean herself but couldn't bring himself to car

"How charming sargeant" Y/n said in a monotone voice as she pulled her underwear up her legs and just deciding to make a run to the toilet before she gets in the car

"I let you come first , what's more charming than that?" He asked

"Maybe not a half assed fuck before a race" she said getting on her knees infront of the sofa as she took the condom he was wearing off

"Just suck my dick so you can go back to your own drivers room" he said pulling her hair into a makeshift ponytail and dragging her face closer to his cock

She had barely gotten past the head before she could feel her lips stinging from being stretched so wide

"You should see how much of a slut you look like right now" he said forcing her to take more than she ever had before and choked back a gag

When she hollowed her cheeks and took him to the base he swear he was seeing stars , but when she came up for air he wasn't impressed "shit do that again" he said as he slapped her cheek as she looked up at him with those teary eyes that almost made him bust a nut

When she didn't do as he said he slapped her again and again until she obeyed and called her some other derogatory name

"You're drooling all over my fucking lap , you better clean it up after" he said as she let him fuck her mouth as she brought her hand up from its resting place on his thigh to play with his balls

"Not my fault there's no space left in my fucking mouth"

When she moaned around his cock and sent vibrations and tingles up his spine he swore he had never cum so hard or so much but she swallowed every drop

Not much was said between them whilst getting re dressed and trying to make it look like they weren't just fucking . Thankfully the engineers had very loud tools and music playing in the garage

Post season testing went better than expected as both Americans made their way into the top 10 . When Oscar congfatulated both of them they were standing further apart than they usually were and weren't making eye contact , but he assumed they just had another pointless argument

Logan and Y/n spent alot of that night trying to decide whether that was a mistake or whether they wanted to do it again . Y/n made it clear that she wouldn't be just another one of his girls and that he would have to commit to her even if they were just friends with benefits

Logan had been invited on a lads holiday with a few of his friends from back home and oscar , which took up alot of the winter break and meant he had alot of time to think about Y/n and how he wanted their relationship to pan out. He saw alot of couples on this trip and his feeling for her were definitely growing . He liked all the sex they had but also loved the domestic stuff like hearing her talk about her day over the phone or her asking his opinion on what outfit she should wear

Over a very horny facetime call Y/n had mentioned the idea of flying to wherever he was and just fuck until they had made up for all of the lost time

It was a good idea in theory , but trying to book a flight close to Christmas was just as hard as you'd imagine , but that gave logan time to plan how he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend

They had video called every night for the next few weeks until she was flying to wherever he was in the world and they couldn't wait. He was going to just ask her when he met her at the airport as he knew she didn't like big gestures. He just hoped she felt the same

"Logie" she exclaimed as she practically ran towards him hugging him when she met his eyes in the crowd of people

"Don't tell Oscar I borrowed the rental car for this" he laughed as he kissed her temple because her face was hidden in his chest as they continued hugging

"I wouldn't get my boyfriend in trouble on his lads holiday now would I? I'd be a terrible girlfriend if I did" she laughed as he looked at her mouth agape

"You talk in you're sleep , i think it's cute how much detail you put into this" she said as they walked out of the very small airport which she was thankful for as they weren't being mobbed by fans for once

When they got to the hotel the sweet cute couple effect had worn off and they just wanted to well and truly fuck . Logans friends had unfortunately booked an activity for them that he had no idea about so had to leave her all alone is his hotel room no matter how dirty the things she would whisper in his ear in hopes he would stay were

He did manage to leave early as he faked some illness

"Logan?" Y/n questioned as his door unlocked

"Y/n" he said eyes softening as he looked at her laying all comfy on the sofa wearing his clothes

"You took sooo and I couldn't find any WiFi password or the TV remote so I couldn't even watch any porn while you were gone" she said sadly as he sat next to her

"I got back as soon as I could , none of them wanted to let me come back here" he said leaning in and kissing her with such passion

"Don't try and butter me up sargeant , I've been horny for hours thanks to you" she said putting her hands on his shoulders and making sure he knew he was to blame

"If you want some angry sex all you had to do was ask baby" he said leading her to the bedroom

"Fuck me like you're mad at me then " she laughed as she almost tripped over both of their feet

"I saw your burner account comment that on my Instagram by the way" he called her out as he fell back on to the bed and she made her way onto his lap

"Theres no proof that it's me" she said laughing as she ground on his lap

"I just have a feeling" he said his hands coming up to hold her hips

"I just love how riled up you get, you really give it to me"

"So are you going to suck my dick like you're mad at it or are we skipping foreplay" he asked not knowing how much more friction and pressure he could take as she moaned almost angelically in his ear

"Surely you'd be compensating me for making me wait?" She said giving him the eyes

He didn't need to be told twice, laying her down on the bed as he kissed his way down her body as she tried to rid them both of atleast their shirts so she could feel some skin against skin

After he had pulled her sweatpants down her ankles too impatient to take them all the way off and let her kick them off while he rubbed her slit and clit through her underwear enough to make her gasp and her him to just take them off , he pushed them to the side while gathering some slick so he could easily push 2 fingers in just to make her moan at the unexpectedness of two at once and cause he still wanted to tease her with no preparation but going from how wet she was she had definitely either been thinking inappropriately the entire time she was waiting or got off atleast once already

"This all for me?" He asked knowing it was but loved to see her get embarrassed at how wet the thought of him got her

"Shut up" she said very lightly pushing his head as she couldn't reach his shoulder in retaliation before hiding her face in her hands

"Don't worry I think it's hot how much you love the thought of me" he said pinching her clit before replacing his fingers with his tongue while his hand went up to cup her breast over her bra

"If you don't hurry up and make me cum I'm going to knock on someone else's hotel door and see if they'll be able to" she said trying not to break character which is easier said than done when logan sargeant is eating you out as an apology

"Oh fuck don't stop" she threw her head back and kept his hand in place that had made its way into the cup of her bra and was toying with her nipple

"You're all mouth Y/l/n" he laughed as he came up for air face glistening in the lamp light

It only took logan no more than 4 more minutes of the combination of rolling her clit in one of his hands while the other toyed with her nipple and his tongue rapidly ate her out not caring about how much noise the pair were making

"Am I forgiven?" He laughed not bothering to wipe the evidence off of his mouth

"Only if you dick me down in the next 30 seconds" she breathlessly laughed as she pulled him into a sloppy kiss full of teeth and gums not caring about the taste of herself on his tongue or lips

She held his face in her hands as they continued to make out while he made quick of getting his trousers and boxers down his legs and stroking himself quickly before asking if they needed to use any protection as he couldn't remember if he had any left

"Just pull out or pay for a plan b tomorrow" she said putting her faith in his reaction speed

"So all I had to was ask you to be my girlfriend and I'm allowed to hit it raw?" Logan said eyes wide imagining all the times he wished he could go raw

He lined himself up and pushed in slowly while he watched her arms sling around his shoulders as her head lolled back and her back arched as she moaned

When he bottomed out and thought how he'd never get used to how snug her walls were around him his mouth agape as he realised how hard it would be and how much mental strength it would take him to not cum inside her . Especially when she raised her head to look at him and she looked in such a state of bliss as she bit her bottom lip as to not let a moan out from him just being inside her

"God please move" she begged as she tried to get closer to him by putting her legs over his shoulders to gain any friction or just anything but was met with no avail

And who was he to deny her that pleasure , his hips snapping into hers with such force he thanked God that he headboard wasn't near a wall because it would be making a rukus for the person on the other side

He let her lay there eyes closed and head back for a solid three minutes before he stopped thrusting in and had only the tip in which made her look up to figure out why he stopped, not before he cupped the back of her head and forced it to look down to where their bodies met

"You wanted me to fuck you so badly that you flew all the way here and yet you don't have the decency to watch what you begged me for" he scoffed as he resumed thrusting his grip not faltering on her head to make sure she was watching what he was doing

Oh how they hoped no one was around to hear any of this

For the remaining days that they were both staying at the same resort they fucked like rabbits and on evert surface you could imagine , having to have condoms delivered to their hotel rooms as they couldn't stay away from each other for long enough to go buy some

Unfortunately for them , there had been a room switch as two of the boys they were there with had gotten in an argument and didn't want to share a room anymore so polite Oscar swapped and had a room the other side of logans wall , where he heard alot of the facetime calls he had late at night to god knows who and when he was fucking who he thought was some random girl he picked up from the island they were on . He chose not to say anything until he heard room service deliver something to Logans room next door and heard Y/ns voice answer the door and thank the person giving them the food which made him swing the door open and knock on the door ready to demand answers

"Where is she?" Oscar asked

"Who?" Logan replied

"The girl who answered the door two seconds ago"

"Why"

"Because she sounded exactly like Y/n who I told you countless time you'd hate fuck , so where is she?" He said not bothering to beat around the Bush

He had no excuse to get himself out of this one so just pointed in the direction of the bathroom" Don't tell her you heard us she'd be so embarrassed"

Oscar strode over to the bathroom and knocked . No longer than a second later Y/n opened the door sheepishly knowing she'd been caught

"How long have you guys been hiding this from me?"

"Not long , we only became official today,but-"

"How long have you been fucking" he asked not sure if it was an appropriate topic

Y/n looked to logan to see if she could actually tell him how long it'd been . With the nod of his head she mentally tried to remember the first time " post season testing" she said

"Wait, is that why they couldn't find you guys that day?"

"Didn't know they were looking , but yeah I guess"

" I have alot of people to collect bet money from , have you announced anything yet or are you keeping it a secret?" He asked wanting to know when he would get his cash flow

"Were not sure yet , probably going to give it a few months before telling people"

"Thats fair , how long is Y/n staying with you then?"

"I've got like 3 days left before I go back to America and hopefully catch up on a year's worth of sleep" she laughed

"Based from what I've heard from the other side of that wall , you definitely aren't getting any sleep here" he laughed

"Oscar!" She said slapping his chest in embarrassment

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #logan sargeant #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smut

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gretavanfleetposts · 9 months

Text

Give Me Shelter

Author's Note: The long awaited sequel to Make Her Happy that literally no one asked for lol here's the first part

Content Warnings: dirty talk, penetrative sex (18+ minors do not interact), swearing

Word Count: 5.5k

Jake stood on the other side of the door with a grin plastered to his lips that you knew he hoped would make up for the fact that it was him rather than his brother.

It almost did.

It doesn't.

Almost.

"He could at least call me," you said angrily without so much as a 'hello' in his direction before you turned and let him meander through the door in your pursuit. This was an occurrence you were getting all too used to and formalities had been done away with long ago. You certainly weren't in the mood tonight.

"Maybe he was worried he'd feel the icy stare through the screen," he quipped from behind you, placing the bouquet of flowers in his hands that you hadn't even noticed on the counter as he followed you into the kitchen.

"He'd deserve it if he did."

You were beyond frustrated with him truthfully. Josh had sent Jake in his place several times since the first, although the first time had been the only time things had gone as far as they had. But you were beginning to feel like you were dating his twin. Not that he wasn't good to you when he came over. He just wasn't the one you wanted.

Well, maybe it was a bit more complicated than that.

"You want me to fight with you? Let you pretend I'm him?"

"He wouldn't fight with me," you sighed as you rummaged around in your kitchen cabinets looking for a container large enough to hold the full meal you had cooked. "He'd be understanding and sweet and make me feel heard and it would annoyingly take all of the fight right out of me."

"I'll be me then and fight back," he said with a wide smile that you didn't return as you moved to put dinner into the tupperware you had pulled out. But when he saw what you were doing, his brows furrowed and the smile disappeared. "Woah, what are you doing? It's still hot, we should eat it."

"I don't want to. I'm just going to order something," you answered flatly.

"I can do that." He took your wrists in his hands to stop your movements, even as you tried to pull them away. "Hey, wait, stop, I can do it. I'll put it away and do the dishes while the food is on its way. Just tell me what you're in the mood for."

It felt like a dam breaking as you let your face fall into his chest, his arms circling your body as tears began to flow.

"I just don't understand why he can't at least call or give me some kind of warning. He always does this, he does this more and more, and more and more I just feel like an accessory that sometimes he wants to wear and sometimes he doesn't."

"You're not an accessory to him, I promise you." He soothed you with a quiet voice and a hand snaking up into your hair to hold you against him. "He wanted to be here, he always does. It kills him that he's away so much but he really does love you."

"You're off, you have a break. Why are you here and he isn’t?"

"Well, I don't require nearly as much maintenance as that little diva," he answered with a laugh at his own joke. The joke didn't reach you though. It only seemed to solidify the feelings you'd been having more and more lately: Josh didn't have time for you.

"Come on," he jostled you from your thoughts before they could spiral, holding you away from him so he could meet your eyes. "You're hangry. Food will put things into perspective."

Food won't fix this.

Pizza does sound really good right now though.

You swiped tears away from your eyes with the back of your hand and sniffed back whatever waterfall needed desperately to fall.

"Pizza?" you asked quietly.

He smiled.

"Pizza it is. Go put your feet up; I've got this." He nodded toward the living room and with a sigh, you resigned to let him take care of things for the night. But before turning to head toward some actual relaxation, you met his eyes with gratefulness seeping into yours.

"Thank you."

"You can thank me later," he said with a smirk that had your stomach doing somersaults despite your internal reprimanding.

—

"Food's here."

Jake's voice woke you. Well, that and the smell of piping hot pizza. You hadn't realized you'd fallen asleep, hadn't even realized you'd been tired. But needing to cry often did that: lulled you into a frustrated slumber of avoidance.

"God, that smells so good," you commented, stretching and sitting up to make room for him on your couch as he set the large box down on the coffee table.

"I know. Way better than whatever you were cooking." He joked as he took a seat next to you, fiddling with the TV remote while you threw open the box and pulled out a piece.

"Be nice, I'm still hangry," you mumbled as you began eating in a way that betrayed how much the cheese was burning your tongue.

"I mean it," he added, dipping his head a little to see your face better. "You can yell at me if it would be cathartic."

There was a sincerity behind his eyes that warmed you. He always was too sweet to you, to do this so consistently. And surely he was busy some of those times. Never too busy for you though, it seemed. Because he always showed up.

Why do you always show up?

"Wouldn't be the same," you shrugged, abandoning the slice of pizza you had grabbed on a free space of the box as you decided to let it cool a bit more before you burned the rest of your mouth.

You felt his fingertips suddenly brush against your skin as he pushed hair behind your ear almost absentmindedly. And meeting his eyes, you saw more of that sincerity. But this time, your eyes plunged down to his lips, a movement that surely didn't go unnoticed as his followed suit. And you suddenly felt nervous under his gaze, anticipating what he might do as a result of that look and unsure of what that would mean to you.

"Jake…I don't know how much I'm in the mood for date night."

That's not true.

It was an easy way to put a swift end to the tension and had him dropping his hand back into his lap with a soft smile that didn't look the least bit wounded.

Maybe he's just good at hiding it.

"That's fine. I don't have to be Josh tonight. I can be whoever you want me to be."

You knew deep down what you wanted him to be that night but you didn't let yourself acknowledge it. You couldn't. Not before dinner, anyway.

"Can you be my friend right now?" you asked instead, ignoring how hot you suddenly felt and how good the exposed skin on his chest suddenly looked.

His smile widened a tinge as he caught the path of your eyes again but he didn't acknowledge it.

"Easiest thing in the world," he said in a soft voice, sitting back further as if to welcome whatever you were about to lay at his feet.

You sighed and turned your eyes toward the pizza box as you thought about it, the fact that Josh wasn't there and Jake was.

"I'm so proud of you all but it's getting harder. Undeniably. And I just don't see him ever having the time for me. At least not more than he does now. And even now, the time he has for me is…dwindling."

"Have you told him this?"

"No," you admitted. "Not lately and not in those words. With the tour ramping up and having him home this week, I was trying not to give him anything to dwell on on the road. No distractions."

Maybe that was stupid but you hated the idea of him being far away and worried about your relationship. You hated the idea of him being onstage and not being able to fully enjoy it, worried about you the entire time.

"You're part of his life, not a distraction. If he wants to make this work, he'll have to find a better balance. I think he'd understand that if you just talked to him."

Maybe he couldn't make up for the lost time. Or maybe you'd grown too attached to what seemed to always be right in front of you, like you'd been an afterthought for too long.

That's not fair to Josh and you know it.

"Aren't you worried he's gonna stop sending you?" You shot Jake a smile that masked the thoughts you'd begun to spin in your mind. But he only shook his head and sighed heavily.

"He knows I'm not the answer," he said candidly.

You thought about that for a moment before meeting his gaze again and asking the obvious.

"Then why does he keep sending you?"

"Because I'm always free," he suddenly smiled, masking his own thoughts he'd begun to spin in his mind, surely.

You couldn't stop your own smile, even knowing it wasn't the truth.

He was quiet a moment, turning away to face the TV you'd both been ignoring and the pizza that was cooling as he seemed to lose himself in thought. But god, he looked pretty that way. You hated to admit it but he did. He was a good listener and easy to listen to. He'd been your sounding board for the past few months on the date nights he'd filled in for, helping you finish off bottles of wine and working through a list of classic movies one or both of you had never seen. He'd eaten countless dishes meant for you and Josh and even learned the card game you had meant to teach Josh, although he was a much poorer sport than his twin would have been. But still, it had made you laugh watching him try to cheat using the reflection of the wine glass sitting in front of you and throwing the cards all over the table when he'd been caught. He'd only done it because you'd been crying when he had arrived and he was determined to take your mind off the obvious. And then there were the flowers, which were becoming a more common occurrence…

"Did you talk about it the first time after I left?"

You felt like you were pulled out of a reenactment of a dream but you knew without asking what he was referring to.

The first time. When you said filthy things to me and I loved it.

"No. It didn't feel like we needed to. We just woke up and went about our day together."

Like nothing even happened.

"Maybe that's why he sends me," Jake suggested. "He isn't worried about it."

You were unsure what to make of it and even more unsure of what to say. So instead, you nodded silently and reached for your pizza, deep in thought and ignoring whatever Jake put on the TV despite your eyes fixing to it. And you ate mindlessly for what felt like a long moment before you finally spoke again, a half-baked sentiment that was more formed out of anger and frustration than anything else.

"I'm not dating you though, I'm dating him. He could act like it."

Jake didn't turn to you.

"Is this your way of telling me you want me to leave?"

"No. It's better than being alone."

"Well, I'd hardly call that a raving review," he laughed, seeming to fake hurt that was probably somewhat real.

"It is nice of you to do this," you quickly added, getting a glimpse of how it had sounded without.

"I don't mind," he answered before taking a bite of pizza that effectively jumbled his words as he continued speaking. "Not in the slightest."

"Well, to be fair, you got to fuck me so no, I imagine you don't mind."

He looked somewhat shocked as he tried to swallow his bite rather than choke, mumbling out a, "Jesus-", that you didn't let him finish.

"Am I wrong?"

"I don't keep coming over here with my hopes up if that's what you're implying."

Would it be so bad if you did?

"You don't think about it?" you questioned, feeling emboldened by God knew what and hoping, praying even, that you liked his answer, especially given how much you'd thought about it as of late.

Fucking annoying, honestly. He could have at least done me a favor and been bad in bed. Maybe that would have made things easier.

"Of course I think about it," he admitted, "I think about it all the fucking time. It's indecent how much I think about it."

That brought a smile to your face, one that you couldn't stifle even if you tried.

"But I'm happy with whatever you're happy with," he continued. "I don't come over here expecting anything. I'll take whatever you want to give me, whatever that means for you. I told you, I'm whoever you want me to be and that, tonight, is friend."

I don't want you to just be my friend tonight.

You played with the hem of the oversized t-shirt you were wearing, suddenly far less hungry than you had been as you thought about what he was saying and how he had made you feel over the past few months.

And why does he always have to look so fucking good?

"What if I didn't want it to just be friend?" you asked hesitantly, unsure of how he'd respond.

It suddenly felt more dire that he could find a way to make that work too, as easily as he could the friend part.

God, you were nervous.

"Then I'd say can you at least let me finish my pizza before you jump me? Geez," he joked, presumably not taking you seriously.

So you tried again.

"I mean after," you responded with a much more serious look, "when this horrible movie you put on thinking I wouldn't notice is over and the leftover pizza is cold and he still isn't here. What will you be then?"

He leaned forward to discard his crust back in the box and brush off his hands before he drew in a long breath, fuel for the thought he was trying to carefully voice.

"After," he began slowly, "when the movie is over and the leftover pizza goes cold…and Josh still isn't here…" He paused to look at you, something cryptic written in his features that you wished you could shake out of him. You needed his thoughts and his honesty to help you mitigate yours. You felt far too alone in your desires at the moment, the one person who never seemed to hold back finally doing just that. "I'll walk you to your room and I'll tuck you in. And if you ask me to stay, I'll stay. Because I'm your friend."

You gave him an understanding nod and a quiet, "Okay," before turning back to the pizza.

—

You couldn't even say what the movie was about. It was a documentary that had started about aliens but somehow had drifted well into pirate territory in a confusing arc that you clearly hadn't followed. To be fair, you were watching without seeing, hearing without listening, enraptured in a swirl of self-destructive thoughts that actually weren't so self-destructive but more left a path of destruction in their wake. And just as predicted, hands stopped reaching for slices of pizza and cheese stopped boiling over the edges as the air took it to its chilly grave. The movie somehow came to a meaningful conclusion that only really meant something to you because credits rolled across the screen. And Josh still wasn't there.

"You look tired," Jake commented after a moment of sitting in darkness next to you, the only light being the tiny white names scrolling across the screen.

God, how many people could it have possibly taken to make that?

"I could sleep," you lied. Well, maybe you could sleep but that wasn't what you intended to do.

Nonetheless, he nodded and stood silently, taking the pizza box to the kitchen and returning to take your hand and lead you from the couch to your bedroom, implication suddenly heavy in the air as he led.

He said nothing as he stood in the doorway letting you walk past him into the room, nothing as you approached your bed before turning back to face him, nothing as you waited for a move he clearly wasn't going to make on his own.

"I think about it too, you know. The first time…" You trailed off without further explanation, your hands suddenly fiddling with the hem of your oversized shirt as you hoped it incited some action on his part.

Jake was silent for a beat before understanding washed over his face and he nodded quickly.

"I’m flattered," was all he said with a soft, almost shy smile as he finally crossed the room to your bed to pull down the comforter, turning expectantly, waiting for you to get in.

He wasn't typically one to be humble but there was something endearing about the rosy hue growing brighter on his cheeks. It almost reminded you of Josh to be honest. And you weren't sure if that made it worse given how much you wanted him.

Without any warning, instead of climbing into bed as he'd expected you to do, you closed the space between you and pressed your lips to his jaw, reveling in the sound of a sudden hushed inhale as he instinctively leaned into the feeling. But his words, hushed and quiet as he spoke them as if he were hoping you wouldn't hear, betrayed the struggle in his mind that was much less willing than his body.

"I think this is a bad idea…" he trailed off quietly as he tilted his chin ever so slightly to let your lips continue their attack along his jaw. And when he heard no response from you, you felt his Adam's apple bob with a gulp as he mustered up the strength to speak again. "I know that you're upset-"

"You said he wasn't worried," you interjected quickly as your mouth moved to his neck where you felt goosebumps prickling against your lips and tongue. You continued your movements as your hands weaved their way into his linen shirt, only to be met by his hands grasping your biceps as if he were going to stop you but the fight had evaded him before he could.

"I know what I said-"

"I just want to feel you," you said finally, pulling your face away to look him in the eyes and put your desperation on display for him.

He was better than being alone. Far better. And fuck, you wanted him.

He seemed to give in almost immediately as his lips found yours more earnestly, losing himself finally in the way you tasted. It felt like a relief to have his hands on you, any hands really as the nights you'd spent alone had grown longer.

"This is the last time," he murmured against your lips as his hands traveled up under your baggy t-shirt to explore the smooth skin that lay beneath.

You agreed with a half-hearted hum on your lips as your own hands traversed over the thin material of his shirt, slipping downward in search of the belt he always wore. You worked quickly to pull it off, setting your hands to work on the button and zipper as it clamored to the floor.

"I mean it," he mumbled again, never really pulling his mouth from yours entirely.

His hands were warm on your skin and did their best to distract from what he was saying, words you'd process later when your mind was no longer numb and flooded with him alone. If there was a line you were crossing, you'd see it in the morning when you woke, drawn perfectly on the floor and smudged only where you and Jake had danced across it.

"Yes, sir," you whispered that time, pulling back ever so slightly to bat your lashes up at him, only to be greeted with an eye roll in return. But a smile adorned his lips nonetheless.

"Gonna get me in trouble," he whispered back as he shook his head, the rosiness of his cheeks growing hotter and redder thanks to your mouth and hands on him, now prying his shirt from his body to send it floating to the floor.

He pushed into you again, squishing any space between you so you sent your arms circling his shoulders instead. He held you closely too, hands pulling you in at your waist impossibly closer even while he walked you backward toward the edge of your bed. You felt magnetized to him, utterly incapable of prying yourself from him even as the thought of Josh's impending arrival swirled somewhere in the back of your mind.

Jake started with the hem of your leggings, tucking his fingers in and doing his best to work them down your legs without his mouth so much as leaving yours. And when the material moved beyond his reach, he helped you shimmy them down the rest of the way and step out of them. And the moment your legs were freed, he spun the two of you so he could take a seat on the edge of your bed and pulled you into his lap.

Pulling his face away from yours finally and letting his hands drop to his jeans to finish the work you had started, he spoke again in a much more serious voice, gravelly and grave.

"You're going to ride me. Take exactly what you want from me."

It was a little glimpse of the Jake he had been the first time he had filled in for date night. And it was exactly what you hadn't realized you were missing.

"Can you do that for me?" he asked as he freed himself and coaxed you into a hover over him with one hand at your hip while the other pulled your panties to the side.

You were speechless, his eyes boring into yours and his hands guiding you even without your answer until the head of his cock brushed your entrance. Your eyes watered with anticipation, every muscle in your body tense as you waited to feel him push inside. And not a single word formed on your tongue or a single thought in your mind.

"Yeah, I think you can," he answered for you with a smirk on his lips and his hand wrapped around himself, already guiding it into you. "And I'm gonna talk you through it."

With his arm snaked around your waist, he brought you down onto his cock in one swift motion, earning a sharp gasp from you as he filled you, a sudden stretch that felt somehow more delicious than it had the first time. Maybe because you knew what you had been missing out on this time around.

"Fuck, I missed you," you breathed, your eyes falling shut for a moment while your thighs warmed against his and the familiar sting of the stretch began to turn to pleasure.

His hands moved to your hips, finding the skin just under the material of the oversized shirt you still wore and digging into the skin there, not so hard so as to leave bruises but hard enough to keep you steady as you leaned forward to drop your forehead against his shoulder, suddenly overtaken by feelings you didn't quite understand.

He felt the shift, something akin to desperate to have him turned desperate to keep him. He felt it in your hot breath against his neck, felt it in the heat radiating from every point on your body, felt it in the unsteady beat of breaths you were taking, almost overtaken by the fierce pounding of your heart as desire and hurt and guilt all fought to take hold of your body. But he didn't retreat from what he felt, only held you that much tighter.

"Are you still with me?" he asked softly, just above a whisper against the shell of your ear, a brief pause from the man he seemed to become when in your bedroom.

You were with him. Maybe a little too with him, you realized. Josh had sent his brother to the rescue so many times, you were beginning to want to be rescued.

"I'm with you," was all you answered back, saving him from your inner turmoil in hopes he'd let you keep going through it.

He seemed keen to let you, too. Or maybe keen to let himself was more accurate. Regardless, wherever your mind had begun to drift, you were suddenly snapped back into place within his arms as he breathed out a rather unfair, "Good girl," and pulled your hips forward once, sliding you easily along his cock thanks to the slick that had been building since the moment you had seen him standing there at your front door. Shamelessly.

"Shit, Jake," you hissed as searing hot pleasure seeped into your body the longer you warmed around him. It incited you to move your hips, slowly at first, searching for that delicious push and pull and stretch of him inside you that felt like a too-distant memory.

He dipped one arm around your waist as his other curled up over your back to bury his hand in your hair, keeping your forehead pressed into his skin as he mumbled words of encouragement. Not that you needed encouraging. His cock, thick and hot inside of you was certainly encouragement enough.

"Ride it, just like that," he murmured as your hips worked up into a steady rhythm. "Just like that, that's it."

You clung to him as you did, clung to the feeling of being full, of his arms holding you. And it only spurred you on, your movements quickening their pace as you moved around him and the sound of skin on skin and both of your heavy breathing began to fill the room. Gentle curses whispered in nothing but a breath betrayed his always cool and casual demeanor and only seemed to fuel the feeling growing hot in your abdomen.

You slid easily along his cock, up and down, taking him fully each time before retreating. His arms helped you move too, encouraging your pace and squeezing you hard like you were grounding him even though you were certain it was the other way around.

"You're so fucking perfect like this," he whispered against your hair, the words punctuated by a noise you'd never quite heard him make, a shameless moan that you suddenly felt desperate to hear again. But having let the sound slip, he seemed to regain his control as he used his grip in your hair to pull your face back to meet his eyes. They were glassy, almost glazed over with euphoria, his lips parted as he struggled and failed to breath evenly, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his forehead and matting his hair to it. He was breathtaking, as usual.

"Jesus fuck, Jake," you breathed, your voice hitching in your throat as the words turned into a pathetic noise.

"Yeah? Tell me all about it," he asked in a breathy, hushed voice like it was a secret meant only for the two of you. "Did you miss me, beautiful? Does that feel as good as you remember?"

Better.

You gave him a desperate nod, answering all and none of his questions at once, your brows furrowed and bottom lip sucked between your teeth and the tension building within you clearly visible on your face.

He nodded back with a whisper of a smirk on his lips, breathless as he was himself. "Yeah, poor thing missed my cock, didn’t she? Tell me how good I feel," he urged.

"Fuck, Jake, you feel so good," you practically chanted, stealing a moment to gaze down at where the two of you connected while something about blurred lines fizzled out of view in the back of your mind. "So fucking good."

Like you belong here with me.

A groan ripped its way through his chest as his hips began lifting slightly to meet each of your downward motions, driving his cock into your sensitive spot with each thrust and only making you want to ride him that much harder despite the burn creeping up into your knees.

"You take it so well for me, such a fucking good girl," he praised you through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. "Bouncing on it like you were fucking made for it, that's my pretty girl."

You reveled in his words and the way they heightened the pleasure of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside of you on each inward thrust, pushing you closer and closer to your own orgasm.

He could see the impending release in your eyes, too, given the way he suddenly gripped you harder and brought his mouth close to your ear to whisper to you his words of encouragement, using one hand splayed flat against the bed to hold you both up. "I know you want to come. Let it go for me, I'll talk you through it just like I promised. I've got you, baby."

Fuck.

"God, Jake," you moaned against his throat, fighting through the strain of your muscles to ride him harder, to take him deeper and faster, wet noises now echoing obscenely through the room.

"Yeah, just like that, let it go," he urged in what was something like half-coherent words, half-moan. "I want you to come all over my cock. Make a mess of me like you're so good at doing." And then a light, "Fuck," after meant only for you.

You were close but it threatened to tumble back downward without reaching its peak, a mental block that you felt you were suddenly fighting, desperately trying to push through before you lost it altogether. But Jake's voice suddenly came softer, finding you in your struggle and bringing you back up to the surface.

"Just relax, let it happen," he coaxed as he took your jaw in his hand to direct your eyes to his, warm and inviting and safe. "I've got you, I'm with you. Just let me feel you."

Fuck.

With his words, you were done for. You felt it ripple through you lightly at first, quickly growing more intense as you pushed your body through it, spurred on by his continued movements matching yours. Your eyes struggled to stay open as it washed through you but watching you and, in turn, you watching him, seemed to push his own orgasm along. His own face began to show the control that was quickly evading him.

Suddenly he was flipping you onto your back, your bodies still connected, and driving into you as his name spilled from your mouth over and over again. Hiking your leg up over his shoulder, he pushed himself over the edge and you along with him for a second time, his hand still wrapped beneath your jaw but his forehead now falling against your sternum as he basked in it and fucked you both through it.

You each came down slowly, neither of you moving from your place where your arms still held one another. If reality was that he had to leave your arms, you didn't want to face it. But finally, with a sigh, Jake withdrew and pulled his exhausted self from your grasp to grab a towel and clean you up, cleaning himself up shortly after.

You maneuvered into the warm embrace of your comforter to watch him move about the room, collecting his shirt and belt and redressing silently before he crossed back over to you. But this time, he didn't join you under the covers. Instead he stood beside you and let his hand cradle your cheek for a moment, looking like he was memorizing your fucked out look. Or just all the little details he had missed.

"You should get some sleep," he said quietly, looking almost forlorn.

"I don't want you to go," you argued immediately, knowing his next steps would either carry him out the door or bring him to your side.

But he only shook his head, much to your disappointment.

"You said you would stay if I asked."

Maybe that was mean to throw at him but he had said it and you weren't really in a good place to be abandoned by another of the Kiszka brothers.

He swallowed hard and let his thumb swipe gently along your jaw. He looked…remorseful.

"Josh will be home soon. I think the two of you should talk. And I don't think I should be here when he gets here."

With only a quick kiss pressed to your forehead, he was out the door without another glance your direction before you had more time to protest, quietly padding through the home to collect his things. It wasn't until you heard the front door shut that you felt truly alone in your own home, wondering when Josh would arrive. And you felt tears well up in your chest and begin to spill from your eyes.

#gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut

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moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Kintsugi 1

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 5.5k

Content: no real warnings for this chapter, reader makes a couple of jokes about killing herself/dying

A/N: ahhhhh it's finally here!!!!!! This story has been going around and around in my head since last summer and I am so excited (and nervous lol) to finally be posting it! Unlike with AFL, I am posting this one as I write, so I've only got this first chapter written. I have no planned schedule for updates right now; we're just going to see how it goes.

Enormous thanks to @here2bbtstrash and @btsgotjams27 for beta-ing this one for me and, honestly, turning it from something that was like, fine, to something actually good, that works how I want it to etc.

Masterlist | Chapter Two

Chapter One - Peaches

You wiped your wrist on the tea towel hanging from your waist. The juice from the nectarines and peaches you were peeling was all over: your hands, the counter, threatening to drip onto the floor, to run the length of your arm. You were sticky-sweet and anxious. You tried to focus only on the task at hand, taking it one step at a time. Peel the fruit. Chop the fruit. Place the fruit on the pastry base.

You grabbed the knife with still sticky hands and cut the flesh from the stones. You tried to do this neatly, elegantly, so the resulting slice of fruit would look pretty in the finished pie. Your knife skills were still not really up to it.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you whispered, resigning yourself to the fact that this would be a very ‘home-made’-looking dessert – as was everything you baked.

Peach and nectarine pie. When you first made this as a crumble, almost a year ago, Yoongi tried to call it ‘peachtarine’, but you were not convinced the name worked. It was also nearly a year ago that you and he first met. You would never have imagined that a chance meeting would have given you one of the most important people in your life. There were so many little things that had to happen to put you both in that room on that night. You were grateful that the universe got it together to make it work. You were extremely nervous that you were about to fuck it up.

As you placed the fruit on the pastry in the pie dish, you stared, unseeing, out of the window. The late afternoon sun, dying in the sky, shone bright into your apartment; it highlighted the swirling dust motes in the air, sparkling almost like glitter. The cherry blossoms were falling from the trees as if time were running out. The air was still today so they floated and settled like snowflakes; on windier days, they looked like a blizzard.

It had always felt like such a transitional time. Winter was cold and hard and barren. Not without beauty, but it was dark and difficult and so much easier to hole up in your apartment, hide from the world, forget about sunlight and joy. Then cherry blossoms burst upon the scene, a bright reminder that life still goes on. The trees that had looked desolate and empty now embowered with new life. There were two weeks of blossoms everywhere, inescapable. They swept into doorways, fell into your hair, collected beneath the trees like matching rugs. An enormous burst of life after the bareness of winter. Then they all fell and were gone and the weather swept you up in its warm arms as summer arrived again. You liked the cushion, the ushering in, the fortnight in which you could adjust to the world being beautiful again. It was your favourite time of year.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the beeping of the oven. It had reached its required temperature. You finished placing the fruit and carefully slid the pastry lattice over the top. You brushed everything with egg wash and awkwardly elbowed the oven door open, trying not to get your sticky hands everywhere. You slid it in and set a timer. You washed your hands. You washed the dishes. Now all you had to do was wait.

You stood outside Yoongi’s front door, pie held carefully in your hands, breathing deeply, taking a moment to try to soothe your nerves. It was outrageous, you thought, that you could be this nervous. It was Yoongi. On the other hand, it was Yoongi. It was not every day that you confessed to harbouring romantic feelings for one of your best friends. It was not every day that you ripped yourself open and placed your fluttering heart before them, hoping, praying that they felt the same.

It was not every day, but it was today.

You squared your shoulders, shuffled the pie so it rested on the palm of one hand, and used the other to key in the entry code.

“I’m here!” you called as you strode in and shut the door behind you.

You tidied away your cooking stuff, creating as much space as you could. You stacked the drying dishes and equipment on the rack and your tupperware tubs on top of one another, full of still-steaming food. You looked around the room to see how many people were doing as you were: taking both classes. Home-cooking for beginners and baking for beginners. Just one cog in your wheel of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement.

A good handful of people left, their own tupperware clutched in hands or safely tucked into bags; a few new faces arrived. The last of these entered late, after the teacher had begun. You could see him scanning the room and you wondered for a moment if he was lost, the way he was frowning as if confused, looking almost shifty. But he continued on, walking slowly further back into the room, his eyes darting across the counters, looking for a space.

You waved in his direction to get his attention; the only space left was next to you (and you were doing your damnedest not to take that personally). You made sure all of your things were gathered on your side, not encroaching on his. He flicked his eyes to you and then immediately looked away but did eventually take his place beside you with a small nod.

You guessed he was about your age, maybe a little older, and you wondered what he was doing there. You wondered who he was, who he’d be baking for. His dark hair fell like a curtain across his face, blocking him from view. He tapped one slender finger silently against the countertop.

As you peeled the skins from your nectarines, you could feel him looking at you—not just looking at you, but watching you. You turned your head to look back.

“Are you alright?” you ventured, when it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything.

“Those aren’t peaches,” he said simply.

“Oh, no. No, nectarines.”

“But we’re supposed to be making a peach crumble.”

You shrugged.

“Yeah, but they’re almost the same, aren’t they? Except nectarines are nicer, so I chose them instead.”

His eyebrows drew together in a small frown as he continued to watch you disrobe your fruit.

“Gonna tell on me to teacher or something?” you asked with a laugh and he huffed an exhale in response, the corners of his mouth flickering up for a second in something that might almost have been a smile.

“No. I’m just not sure I agree.”

“Oh, well, in that case...”

You took your knife and cut a slice of nectarine, the blade gliding through as if it were butter. You held the fruit sliver up between you and he took it with his mouth, his lips just grazing over your thumb and finger. You swallowed your tiny gasp and watched his face as he chewed and swallowed. He said nothing, but cut a slice from his own peach and popped that into his mouth. Then he sighed.

“Yeah ok, you’re right. Nectarines are better.”

He turned back to his own station, head straight, looking down at his peaches, doing nothing. He tapped his finger again. You took your two remaining nectarines sitting in their bowl of iced water and placed them in front of him.

“You can use them, if you want.”

He looked at you with another frown.

“But you won’t have enough. You need these.”

You stretched across him and took two of his peaches with a shrug.

“It’s a trade. We can make peach and nectarine crumble.”

He grunted but said no more; he simply picked up his peach from the counter and carried on. After a moment, he grunted again: a small thank you. You turned back to your own fruit and continued peeling.

As you began to cut the flesh from the stones, you became aware that he was mumbling something; you glanced at him to see his head cocked on the side, looking upwards, thinking.

“Peachtarine?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“Huh?”

“Peach and nectarine... Peachtarine. It’s not great but I can’t think of anything better.”

You hummed and thought about it yourself.

“I think you’re right that it is the best option but I’m not sure it’s any better than saying peach and nectarine.”

He chuckled and shrugged.

“I’m sticking with it.”

It was all the encouragement you needed. He started talking to you first, technically. If he didn’t want to talk to you, if he didn’t want to be friends, well, too late, he started it.

“I was a little offended, you know, when I found out the first class was going to be crumble,” you began. “And next week is brownies, did you see? I get that this is a beginners’ class, but is it even possible to get this wrong? No one is going to be impressed by something this simple, are they? And what’s the point of going to so much effort if no one will be impressed?”

He didn’t reply but this did nothing to put you off. He had broken the seal and you were absolutely going to flood him with conversation. It was a relief to finally be talking; you didn’t do well in silence.

“I did the class before this one, too: that’s home-cooking for beginners. I’m useless in the kitchen; my bo- ex-boyfriend would gripe about it all the time. And now he’s my ex so I’m spiteful and bitter and learning to cook so I can show him that I actually do know how to take care of myself, y’know? Not that he’s going to know or care. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since I moved the last of my stuff out of our apartment. He’s really washed his hands of me. Which is fine. I get it. I would have done the same. But anyway, that’s why I’m here. Running on bitterness and spite but it’s better than being dead, I guess, right?”

“Are they the only two options?”

Your head span to him in surprise; you hadn’t been sure was even listening to you.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “Sometimes it does feel like spite is the only thing keeping me alive, yeah.” You laughed, harder than you really wanted to, trying to ward off any tension, to make sure he knew you were just joking. “That and now I’ve paid for these classes so I have to stick around until they’ve finished so I get my money’s worth.”

He nodded as he finished sprinkling the top of his dessert with brown sugar and put it in the oven.

“What about you?” you asked as you did the same. “Why are you here?”

You thought he wasn’t going to answer because he was quiet for some time.

“The women my girlfriend works with apparently all have husbands who bake them things to take into the office. I was asked why I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I don’t bake. Never learnt. Until now I suppose.”

“Why do you have to be the one to bake things? If she wants to take stuff to the office, can’t she make it?”

He laughed lightly, a little exhale of disbelief.

“No, that’s not the point. The point is that she wants to go into the office and show off that I’ve made her something. I never do anything for her apparently.”

If you had said it, the bitterness would have been strong enough for him to taste in his own mouth, but he didn’t sound bitter. You thought he sounded resigned. Maybe even sad.

“Yeah, but she could just make them and lie, tell them that you did it.”

“Oh, no, she would never do that. I’m not sure she’s ever picked up a spatula in her life.”

You bit your tongue because, until a couple of hours ago, the same could have been said of you. You were aware that you had been spoilt and were embarrassed that you were a grown adult who didn’t know how to cook even the simplest dishes, but, hey, at least now you were trying. And you never made your ex bake things for you or even cook if he didn’t want to. You could at least manage instant ramen and frequently did (which somehow seemed to annoy him more than having to cook for you). You wouldn’t have starved without him—you hadn’t starved without him. The bitterness you felt about your break-up leaked through and you felt unreasonably annoyed by this woman you didn’t know. You were broken up with for being an incompetent adult and here she was, with a boyfriend who was learning to bake so she could what? Keep up with the Joneses?

“So, neither of you can bake but you’re the only one here even though she’s the one who wants the baked goods. Hmm... Make it make sense.”

He huffed and you couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance, then he ducked down to peer pointlessly into the oven. You took that as a sign to change the subject, so you thrust your hand out to him and introduced yourself. He looked at your hand warily and then took it.

“Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Sorry your girlfriend is a dick.”

You knew you shouldn’t have said it. It was rude, for one thing. And you weren’t 100% sure it was true, for another. But your tolerance for romantic partners – even ones you didn’t know, had never met – was at an all-time low and, really, who gives a shit what people at work think? Who makes their boyfriend commit to twelve weeks of classes just so you can take a cookie to the office? You didn’t expect a response – a grunt; maybe he would turn his back on you; there was even a chance he might argue and defend his girlfriend’s honour.

He laughed.

“Yeah, me too.”

You weren’t able to stop the bark of laughter that rushed out and you felt a sudden rush of warmth for this stranger, this new friend.

“Well, hey, if you do want to break up with her anytime soon, there is plenty of spite to go around. Misery loves company; you know that, right? And I am fucking miserable.” You kept your expression bright to try to counter-balance the admission and chuckled lightly when he just looked at you.

His mouth was a flat line, expression serious, then it softened and his mouth twitched up at the corners. You were struck by how pretty he was when he let his face open, even a little.

“Here she is! Michelin star chef extraordinaire!”

“Shut the fuck up, Teddy.”

“Ouch, someone’s crabby this morning. Did it not go well?”

You plopped heavily into your seat and shook the mouse to wake your computer.

“No, it went fine. It went well, actually. I’ve made a friend.”

“Oh, have you now? A real friend or is this like every woman you ever meet on a night out where you sa-”

“Yes, a real friend and he’ll be a better one than you, I’m sure.”

“You are crabby! Are you going to fuck this guy or what? Sounds like you need it!”

“Kim Taehyung!”

“What? I haven’t said it for ages! So, let me tell you again: you just need a good rebound-fuck. Is he not attractive?”

You pretended to ignore him as you logged in and pulled up your emails.

“Not attractive, bummer.”

“I didn’t say that.” Your defence was quick, too quick.

“So you do want to fuck him! This is progress; I like it.”

“Will you stop? I don’t need to fuck anyone, ok? I don’t want to.”

“Are you sure? Because if you need it, if you really want me to-” Taehyung scooted closer to you and turned you around, resting his hands on the armrests of your chair, looking at you with his sweetest, most earnest and angelic face. “-I will fuck you.”

You cried out and pushed him away as he cackled.

“I would literally rather kill myself than sleep with you.”

He clutched at his heart as if you had stabbed him and replied in song.

“Don’t go breaking my heart!”

You wanted to resist. You wanted not to sing back to him. You wanted, for once, to not be one of the two most annoying people in the office. But you can’t always get what you want.

“I couldn’t if I tried!” you trilled back.

“Oh, honey, if I get restless-”

“Baby, you’re not that kind.”

You grinned at each other, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you belted together.

“When I was down-”

“I was your clown!”

“Wow, someone’s got that Friday feeling!” your director called as she walked from her office at the end of the room. She clocked you with a raised brow. “Might have known it would be you two.”

“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you cried after her before collapsing into giggles and, eventually, turning back to your work.

“I’m serious, though,” you said. “I’d rather kill myself than sleep with you.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual, darling, as you already know. My point is that you should-”

“Sleep with someone, anyone, yeah I know.”

“I’m not trying to push you to do something you don’t wan-”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing!”

“No! Alright, maybe a little, but I think it would be good for you. We’ve talked about this and I dropped the subject but now you’ve met someone new, someone who might be a good... distraction, rehab, palate cleanser.”

“That’s a gross way to talk about a person, Teddy.”

“Not if they’re on the same page. Not if it’s mutually beneficial. I know you feel like you aren’t ready for it but, honestly, I think you’re going to feel that way until you do it and, once you have, you’ll realise you were worrying over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. I have slept with one person in the last four years. It’s not nothing to... to open yourself up and... display yourself in front of someone, some stranger.”

“You’re taking it too seriously; you don’t have to open up. You don’t even have to take your clothes off: go out in a short skirt, pull your underwear down, and away you go!”

“That is so crass. I have more class than that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

You sighed. A part of you knew Taehyung was right. You just had to get back on the horse. Like riding a bike. Maybe. But your bike had changed since the last time someone new saw you naked. And you didn’t really want to just fuck someone, anyone. You wanted someone to love you. And that felt about as distant a possibility as going to the moon.

It was Friday and you did not want to be made miserable before 10am.

“Besides,” you said, hoping it would put a stop to the conversation. “He has a girlfriend.”

“Ah, alas.”

“Though I don’t think he’s happy with her.”

“Oh dear. I think I see where this is going. Please do not interfere in this man’s private life.”

“I’m not going to! I’m just saying! I called her a dick and he laughed.”

“I’m sorry, you called this stranger’s girlfriend a dick? And you expect me to believe you’re not about to interfere? Just because you are bitter and alone does not mean everyone else has to be.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying: you’ve met this guy and you’ve known him for all of two hours and you’ve already decided his relationship is trash and his girlfriend is a dick and you would love for them to break up so that you aren’t the only one who got dumped, so that you know other people are also miserable and bitter and you can lean into those feelings rather than facing the fact that you are heartbroken and lonely.”

You dropped your head into your hands and groaned.

“Didn’t fancy giving me some sugar with that pill? It’s Friday.”

“So come out with me tonight and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Buy me three.”

“Two.”

“Deal.”

Yoongi was late to the second class, too. You had deliberately saved the space next to you and you waved him over as before. As before, he barely glanced at you before taking his place. As soon as the teacher had finished talking, you started. You were not trying to interfere in his personal life; you were not trying to fuck him. You were just trying to be his friend.

“Did your girlfriend like the crumble?” was your opening gambit. “Not exactly something she could take into the office to share out, but still.”

There was a pause before he answered, just long enough that you thought he wasn’t going to.

“She didn’t eat any.”

You immediately dropped your sieve and turned to him.

“What do you mean she didn’t eat any?”

He shrugged.

“She said she didn’t want any.”

You blinked, buffering, trying to understand.

“I don’t understand; I thought she wanted you to take this class?”

He shrugged again.

“Well, she’ll have something to take to the office this week, if she wants it... Everyone loves brownies,” you offered, conciliatory, sensitive to Taehyung’s accusation that you might be interfering, trying to find the benefit of the doubt to give this woman.

There was no response from Yoongi, so you dropped the subject. It wasn’t often that you were lost for words, that you didn’t know what to say, but your mind was blank.

Well, it wasn’t blank, but you were not going to actually say any of the things that you were thinking. That his girlfriend was taking advantage of what was clearly a loving nature; that she was ungrateful; that he should stop trying so hard to please someone who didn’t seem to care about him; that their relationship seemed unequal and he was on the losing side. All sorts of things that you didn’t really know, that were clearly products of your own situation, things you were projecting onto this stranger and his girlfriend when you had no right to do so. You might have been right, but you might have been wrong and, even if you were right, there’s a time and a place for telling people the truth they might not want to hear. This was not it.

Yoongi cleared his throat as he gently tapped his sieve.

“So, what illicit ingredient have you brought this time?”

His smile was small and unsure; yours in return was wide, bright, all teeth.

“I simply do not know what you are talking about.”

“You don’t expect me to believe you’re just going to... follow the recipe?”

“You can believe whatever you like, sir. I’m just here to learn.”

As you spoke, you dipped your hand into your bag and retrieved a box of toasted walnuts. Not in the recipe. But, as far as you were concerned, a brownie without nuts was an inferior brownie and you were not about to make inferior brownies.

Yoongi chuckled.

“If you will look here,” you instructed, gesturing to the box, “you will note that this is really, far too many for just one person to use...”

Yes, you had bought extra walnuts just in case Yoongi showed up again, just in case he took the space next to you, just in case he wanted them. You had told yourself that it made sense to buy the bigger box; it was better value; you would have plenty left over to make the brownies again sometime... But you couldn’t deny that you were thrilled; he was here and talking to you and making jokes as if you really were real friends. You could already imagine yourself telling Taehyung tomorrow, smug and obnoxious because you had made a real friend like you said.

Yoongi grimaced.

“My girlfriend’s allergic to nuts.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

An awkward silence arrived and you did your best to shrug it off.

“Maybe next time, then. I’ll make a note.”

You noticed that he looked apologetic and you tried to take it in your stride. It wasn’t personal; it was biological. You weren’t trying to interfere in his personal life and that included not poisoning his girlfriend. It was fine.

You moved the box back onto your side and returned your attention to sifting flour and cocoa powder.

“So how did you like the crumble? I assume you at least tried it.”

“Yeah, it was nice.”

“I thought it was pretty good,” you replied. “The first portion anyway. The second was pretty good, too, but by the time I finished it, I honestly never wanted to see a peach or nectarine ever again!”

“You ate all of it?” His eyebrows raised on his forehead in disbelief, an incredulous grin on his face.

You blushed.

“I mean... not all at once. It took me a couple of days... You might say I could have invited friends over to share it out and you would be right, but I simply did not do that.”

He laughed.

“I did do that. They liked it, too.”

“Oh wow, look at you, Mr I’ve Got Friends Who Eat My Desserts. Some of us accidentally choose to eat an entire dessert by ourselves, ok? No need to rub it in.”

He laughed again and you felt the glow of his approbation like the warmth of sun on your skin. This wasn’t why you were taking the classes—you really did want to learn to cook, to self-improve, to become a fully competent adult—but you knew that, even if you dropped out tomorrow, if you had one more friend to show for it, it would all have been worthwhile.

You chatted as you baked; you tried hard to curb your impulse to steamroll over the conversation, to motormouth your way out of this new friendship. Yoongi was sweet and a little shy and you didn’t want to scare him off, didn’t want to annoy him, didn’t want your desperation to seep out of your pores and cling to him like smoke. No one likes stinking of smoke.

At the end of the class, you carefully scooped a still-warm brownie from your pan and wrapped it in tin foil; you put it to the side while you cleaned and tidied everything away, then you handed it to Yoongi.

“Your girlfriend might have to suffer inferior brownies, but you don’t.”

He blinked in surprise, his eyebrows slightly raised, his mouth slightly open, and looked down at your offering.

A sudden panic hit you.

“Unless she’s like, freakishly, deathly allergic to them and will die if you kiss her having eaten nuts or something.”

You shifted your arm back slightly and looked at him questioningly.

“Or, obviously, if you just don’t want it, you don’t have to take it. I just thought- since-...”

He reached out for the brownie, almost tentative, as if he was expecting you to whip it out of his reach at the last second. You didn’t. He took it. He placed it on top of his things and his mouth twisted as he looked at it.

“Thank you,” he said, his face more of a frown than a smile. Then he nodded, took his things, and left.

You weren’t sure what to make of the exchange. You felt like you had got something wrong, but you didn’t know what. It had all been going so well; you couldn’t possibly have ruined it, could you?

You did not gloat to Taehyung the next day. You kept it to yourself, a small needle of anxiety pricking you whenever you thought of that stupid brownie. A bigger needle pricking you when you thought about your next class.

Your anxiety was proven right. Yoongi was late again – as, apparently, he always was – and you began talking again as soon as your teacher had stopped but, this time, Yoongi didn’t talk back.

“How did the brownies go down? Did she take them into the office?”

Silence.

“Obviously, I can only speak to my own, superior, nut-filled brownies, but I was very happy with them. So happy, in fact, that—can you guess what I’m about to say? Yes, I absolutely ate them all myself!”

You laughed, a little too loud, heat prickling up the back of your neck and onto your cheeks as he still said nothing. You swallowed hard and tried to suppress the anxiety which was bubbling in your stomach.

“I tell a lie,” you continued, self-conscious but not yet defeated. “I did take one in to work on Friday for my best friend. He pretended they were disgusting but that’s just what he’s like; he ate the whole thing so it can’t have been that bad! He actually a- oh, wait, hold on...”

You had been operating on autopilot which for someone with almost no baking know-how or experience was very dangerous. You grabbed the recipe to double-check what you were doing and the silence felt stifling around you. You wished he would say something, anything, even if it was telling you to shut the fuck up. A better person might have given up. A better person might have understood his signal that he didn’t want to talk and listened to it. You were not a better person. The sick need for his approval crawled its way into your throat and spoke for you, made a ventriloquist dummy out of you. Even as you wished, yourself, that you would be quiet, even as you heard yourself, the cheer in your voice more and more forced as his resolute silence strengthened, thickened, grew around him like briars, warding you off, threatening, you carried on.

“He asked me to make them again, actually. I told him where to go because I originally asked him if he’d take this class with me, y’know, for moral support, after my break-up and everything—he is supposed to be my best friend, after all—but he refused, point blank. So, naturally, I told him he would not be getting to sample any of the delicacies I would be making. Then I went and gave him a brownie! Because, of course, I’d forgotten that I’d sworn not to...”

You managed to monologue your way through half the class, but once the fairy cakes were in the oven and the utensils and bowls washed and dried and you had nothing left to do with your hands, you gave up. You sat on your stool and leant on the counter, counting the seconds, trying to will the shame and embarrassment away. You were sticky with nervous sweat, hot and flushed, flustered. You were embarrassed and, in turn, embarrassed by your embarrassment; he clearly didn’t care, so why did you? You couldn’t answer the question except to say that you just did.

The silence was thick and crushing around you until the end of class. Yoongi packed his things with lightning speed and was the very first to leave the room. You took your time, fussing and dawdling, and were the last. It shouldn’t have crushed you. It shouldn’t have mattered at all. You didn’t know each other. You could just as easily have gone the rest of your life never meeting him.

But it did matter to you. It did hurt. Especially because last week had been so nice, so promising; last week, he had felt like your friend. And then you’d gone and spoilt it all, but you didn’t even know how. You had wracked your brain all week, but you couldn’t think of a single reason that that brownie should have ruined everything. It didn’t make sense; it made you feel lost and stupid and exposed and embarrassed and a thousand feelings that you had shoved aside in the months since your break-up.

You reminded yourself every day of all the things your therapist was trying to teach you: it’s ok if people don’t like you; you can’t please everyone; please for the love of god stop catastrophising your entire life (that one you paraphrased). But it didn’t really help. You were taking this one very personally and nothing was going to stop you.

[21:17] Teddy 🐻: Not everyone wants more friends. Some people just want to get through the day and make it home.

[21:18] You: Maybe.

Your phone buzzed again and Taehyung was calling you. You rolled your eyes; that man was incapable of having one single conversation over text.

“Besides which,” he began, not even pausing to say hello. “You said he might be having relationship problems. Maybe he’s having problems at work. Or family issues. Or personal issues! Or all of the above! You don’t know what’s going on in someone else’s life. Maybe he doesn’t want to spill his guts to a total stranger.”

“He doesn’t have to spill his guts!” you protested and you could hear the whine in your voice. “I just want to be friends.”

“And he doesn’t.”

Chapter Two

#yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fic #yoongi #bts

454 notes · View notes

galexystern · 11 months

Text

number one fan - 18+

pairing; steve harrington/eddie munson/fem!reader aka steddie/fem!reader

rating; E

warnings; smut (MDNI), like lots of smut, unprotected p in v, double teamed, creampie, dirty talk, filthy dirty talk, light degradation, pwp, this is mostly smut with some fluff

word count; 5.5k

desc; it was never a competition.

a/n; this is basically a variation of my previous work come together (over me), i'm not sure where all this smut is coming from. but enjoy!

masterlist

Eddie notices you while he's onstage.

It's not because of your appearance or features—though you are absolutely gorgeous. It's also not due to your dancing, which is a little sexy, a little goofy, a lot fun. No, you catch his eye because you are singing along with him to the last chorus of their newest song. Corroded Coffin has only played it at a couple shows so far, and most of the crowd are rightly just nodding along pleasantly. But you, you are almost performing the words, like you know them so innately you don't have to focus.

He'd be lying if he didn't find it extremely hot.

He's moving on autopilot, so distracted by you, that he almost misses his cue to finish their set. "Thank you guys!" He rushes out. "We're Corroded Coffin!" He turns around so he and the band can hit their last few measures and ending beat together. As the note reverberates out, he spins back to the mic and adds, "We have records for sale up here also, come see one of us to buy!"

The crowd cheers and starts to disperse. Eddie lets Gareth and Jeff keep an eye out for customers and wipes his face with a nearby towel. But then he hears a perky "Hi!" and drops it to see you standing in front of the stage. He speeds toward his band members and sticks his face between them.

"Hi there," he says cheekily, and when you look up at him, you beam.

"Oh my gosh, hi," you gush. "I was just telling Jeff and Gareth that your set was so great. I love that new song."

Eddie pushes his friends' shoulders, implying that he's got this one. They grumble but leave anyway. He sits on the stage's edge and gives you a grin. "Yeah?" You nod. "I could tell. Caught you singing along at the end."

You blush. "Well, it's very catchy."

"Thanks, angel." You duck your head. "Now what can I do for you?"

"Can I buy a record?" You ask shyly.

"Course you can." Eddie grabs one from the stack while you smooth out some money from your pocket. "Five dollars, sweetheart." You hand it to him and he takes it, purposely running his fingers across your palm. He studies you at the same time and thrills when you go redder. But he doesn't hand you the vinyl yet. "You want me to sign it? Free of charge."

"Sure," you say excitedly. Eddie grabs a marker from his pocket and scrawls his autograph on the cover. Then he gives it to you, smiling as you clutch it in your arms. "Thanks!"

"Anytime, princess." With that, you give him an adorable wave and walk away, disappearing into the crowd. Eddie instantly slides off the stage and makes a beeline for the back. He weaves through the people until he reaches Steve, working the camera. "Holy shit," he says.

"What?" Steve asks flatly, focused on packing up the supplies.

"I'm in love." Eddie fake-swoons.

Steve snorts. "Yeah, right. Who is it this time?"

"Such a pretty girl. She was dancing to our set and Steve—" he makes his friend look at him, "—she was singing along. To our new song."

"Wow," Steve replies, half-heartedly.

But Eddie doesn't notice. He's too busy dreaming about you. "She came and bought a vinyl. I signed it for her." He says the last sentence with pride.

"You write your number down too?"

Eddie's mouth drops open and then he groans. "That would've been so smooth."

Steve snickers. "This is why I've always had more game than you." Eddie just huffs. His eyes are roaming the bar but he can't see you. He sadly suspects you've left. Steve continues, "What'd she look like?"

"Well..." Eddie trails off as he turns to Steve and spots the camera. "Here," he says excitedly, and lifts up the camera and turns it on. Steve goes to grab for it but Eddie just holds it closer to him and rewinds the tape until he can see you. "Look, that's her."

Steve looks at the screen and squints. He can see...an arm? A hip? A blurry shot of a face? "I can't see anything, dude."

Eddie rolls his eyes and hands back the camera. "Well, next time I'll introduce you."

"You do that," Steve responds with a smirk.

;

Steve meets you on his own instead.

At the Hideout again, he sits at the bar nursing a Tom Collins. Corroded Coffin is nearing the end of their set but Steve's been watching you—you're grooving on a stool near him, practically bouncing out of it. You're clearly feeling the music and it's too cute when you cheer after each song. He wants to talk to you but waits, since people have come up to you during the music and you've brushed them off to pay attention. He's impressed, but also keeps an eye on your drink too.

Finally, as Eddie is thanking the crowd and reminding them they have vinyls for sale, Steve slips out of his seat and makes his way to you. He smiles at how you yell the loudest for the band. When he's close, he says, "Hey."

"Holy shit!" You exclaim and turn around quickly, startled.

Steve laughs unexpectedly. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

At the apology, you exhale. Turning sheepish, you reply, "It's okay. I'm sorry. I get spooked easily."

Steve nods. "I couldn't help but notice your dancing. Why didn't you get out on the floor and show it off?"

You eye him, smirk telling him you can see through his pick-up line, but spin towards him anyway. You hold up your leg, showing off a cast around your ankle, covered in signatures. "I would, but alas, I cannot," you say.

"Damn, what happened?" Steve sits on the stool next to yours.

You sigh. "It's embarrassing."

"I won't laugh." At your look, Steve holds up his hands to show he's not crossing his fingers. "Promise."

"Well...I was babysitting my little cousins a few weeks ago and we were playing the floor is lava, you know?" Steve nods. "So we'd taken all the cushions off the couch and chairs and put them on the ground, and we were jumping on them so the lava wouldn't get us." You say this like it's so obvious. It makes Steve smile. "Everything was fine until one cushion was partly on the carpet and partly on the hardwood floor. I leaped for it and it went flying out from under me. Broke my ankle for my trouble."

"That's not embarrassing at all," Steve replies. "You clearly got wounded in battle. You should receive the purple heart for your bravery."

You giggle. "Thank you. Someone finally recognizes my contribution to the war effort."

"I salute you." He actually does too, making his attitude stern so he can give a proper one. "Sucks though."

"Yeah." Your voice goes sad. "I love dancing here. But," you shake your head and brighten, "I will again. This comes off in a few days."

"Nice." Steve gives you a high-five. He lets his fingers slide across yours as he pulls his hand away. Shivers run through him. Remembering Eddie's predicament, he's about to ask for your name when...

"Steve!" Speak of the devil. Eddie's voice comes floating through just seconds before he appears. "It's hopeless. She's not here—" He stops short, both physically and verbally, when he spots you next to Steve.

You take one look at Eddie and then turn to Steve. "You didn't tell me you know the band!"

"I—" Steve stammers as Eddie turns to him with a raised eyebrow and smirk.

"Oh, Steve's our camera guy," Eddie says. "Hello again, angel."

"Hi," you reply, blushing. "Great job tonight."

Eddie grins. "Thanks. Though I missed your dancing."

As you spin around to face him, Steve points down and explains, "Broken ankle." Eddie shoots him a glare.

"Would've if I could've," you add, nodding sadly. "But, like I told Steve, I will dance again."

"Good," Eddie interjects before Steve can. "Starting to think you're our good luck charm. We keep selling out vinyls when you're here."

Both boys love it when you giggle.

Then you look at your watch and sigh. "Sorry, boys, I gotta run," you continue, sounding disappointed. "I'm on duty tomorrow." You look at Steve, who salutes you again.

"Thank you for your service," he says strictly, before laughing with you. Eddie rolls his eyes a little.

"Anyway," turning your attention back to Eddie, "you guys sounded so good tonight. Maybe you'll have another record released soon?" You ask hopefully.

"Actually, we do have some studio time this weekend. So you're in luck," Eddie answers proudly, and grins at your excited gasp. "I'll make sure we have one just for you next time. I'll even get the whole band to sign it." You clap your hands together in happiness. "Sound good?"

"Sounds amazing," you gush. "Thank you."

"Like I said, anytime, princess."

You slip off the stool and hobble around them. "You need help?" Steve asks, concerned. Eddie nods, seconding the question.

You wave them away. "Nope, I got it. Though this is not the 'make them watch you walk away' moment I'd hoped for." You laugh. "Steve, thanks for not laughing. Eddie, amazing show as always. I'll see you." With that, you enter the crowd.

Eddie turns to Steve with a searing look. "'Thank you for your service'?" He mocks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "It's an inside joke. You heard about those? You might've had one with her if you'd gotten there first."

"I did get there first!" Eddie says incredulously.

"And yet, I know more about her," Steve shoots back.

"Oh, and you know so much? What's her name then?" Steve opens his mouth smugly but then closes it a second later. His brow furrows. "You don't know!" Eddie laughs meanly.

"I was gonna ask but you interrupted!"

"Just in time too," Eddie sneers. "Stop you from moving in on my turf."

"She's not turf," Steve says pointedly, "she's a girl. And neither of us own her."

Eddie runs a hand down his face. "Yeah," he sighs. "You're right." He slumps in the stool you'd vacated. "And we still don't know her damn name."

They mourn together over their drinks.

;

Steve and Eddie pointedly not talk about you after, but you're on both of their minds. And then the universe delivers you to them again.

It's an early set on a Saturday—the band had been forced to move up slots because stupid Jeff had his grandmother's 90th birthday party that night. At least, that's what Eddie has been saying while complaining to Steve. Don't old people go to bed early? Why not have an afternoon party?

"I don't know!" Steve finally interrupts. He and Eddie are at the bar of the Hideout again, drinking beer after the set. Eddie grumbles. Both of them have been on edge since they haven't seen you in almost a month. Eddie's worried the vinyl he keeps carrying around is gonna get ruined the longer he has it. Steve's just worried you forgot about them.

They both take a sip at the same time and just about spew it all over the bar when you say from behind them, "Oh, no! Did I miss the set?"

The boys work to swallow and wipe their faces, turning to you. You're standing there, looking beautiful, ankle cast-less. They smile at the sight of you, but your expressions stays upset.

"Sorry, angel," Eddie says, trying not to let his grin go too wide. "We had to go early today."

"Fucker," you mutter, crossing your arms. Steve and Eddie are startled by the swear, but aren't not turned on by it. "How was it?" You ask.

"It was great," Steve answers. Eddie gives him a side-eye. "I got it all on tape. I could show you if you want." Ah.

Your smile makes an appearance. "Really? That'd be great."

"You wanna watch bad tape of my band? That's impressive."

"I don't think Steve can be that bad of a cameraman," you tease and the boys grin. "Plus, I'm a true fan. Can't forget about me when you make it big."

"That'd be impossible," Eddie replies cheekily. You blush. “But who should I be remembering?”

“Oh my gosh, I haven’t given you my name yet!” You wince and introduce yourself properly.

“Well, I’m Steve Harrington and this is Eddie Munson.”

“I knew that one,” you giggle.

"Speaking of making it big," Eddie continues. "I've got your vinyl."

"Yay! Oh, I'm so excited."

"Wanna come and get it?" Eddie asks, pointing to the stage.

"Sure." Eddie jumps off the stool, giving Steve a quick, triumphant glance. Steve narrows his eyes. "Steve, come with us," you urge and both boys look at you in surprise. "You can show me the tape."

Steve stands, shooting Eddie a shit-eating grin, who just rolls his eyes and turns around. He leads the three of you past the stage and into the back hallway. He opens the door to a room and graciously lets you walk in first, fighting with Steve for who goes in after you. They both stumble in as you turn to face them. They could swear they see a small smirk on your face, but then you ask eagerly, "Where is it?"

The boys separate and find their respective material for you. Eddie presents you with the record showily, and you take it reverently, running your fingers over the signed names. Eddie watches you like you're precious, and Steve breaks the moment by opening the camera's deck and taking out the tape. He hands it to you.

"You're letting me take it?" You ask, incredulous.

Steve shrugs. "You can bring it back. It's a long set, don't wanna keep you here."

"Thanks! But I did come here to dance..." You ponder. "Is the band playing tonight any good?"

Eddie scoffs but Steve replies, "Yeah, they're decent."

"Not as good as Corroded Coffin." You give Eddie a smile.

"Obviously," he says haughtily, but grins back.

"You guys wanna..." You toy with the words and the boys know how they feel. "...stay and dance with me? If it's not too much a betrayal of the band."

Eddie sees the teasing in your eyes and smirks. "Let's do it, princess."

"Steve?"

He senses the challenge. "I'm in."

"Great! Can I leave these here and come back for them?" You motion to the record and tape. Steve and Eddie both nod. You smile and set them on a chair before moving towards the door. You look over your shoulder at the boys, who have not moved. "You coming?"

They scramble after you.

This time, you lead them through the bar, weaving through people until you're firmly on the dance floor. The other band has started, and it's a slow, sexy vibe. You move your hips back and forth to the beat, letting your body find the right rhythm. Steve and Eddie just watch you, swaying in time but not doing much else. When you've found the groove, you turn to them.

Whatever they expected you to do, it's not what you actually do. You move towards them, staying in tempo, eventually standing in front of Eddie and flinging an arm around his neck. He's shocked, but regains his composure and puts his hands on the small of your back. Behind you two, Steve deflates and starts to back away, but then you look at him over your shoulder. You have a wicked look as you reach your free arm towards Steve and beckon him to you. He comes, magnetized, and you take his arm to wrap around your waist until his hand is resting on your stomach. You pull both him and Eddie closer until they're plastered to either side of you.

"See," you say lowly, "I know what you two have been doing. Trying to one-up each other, make the other look bad. See who I like more." You sigh and force their hips to move with yours. "Well, I like you both. And why should I have to choose? That'll just make one of you sad and that's no good." Steve gulps when your hand strokes up his arm and around his neck, digging your fingers in his hair. "Instead, how about I get double the happiness, and you can both have me." Eddie has goosebumps from how your breath is brushing across his skin.

He looks up at Steve, who looks at him. It's a fraught moment; they're unsure of what to do. But then you grind your hips in a circle, thrusting into both of them, and their eyes go wide. They nod at each other and then at you.

You laugh darkly, resting your head on Steve's shoulder. "Such good boys," you coo, and they're like putty in your hands. But your face turns to a pout. "But I'm tired of doing all the work. Why don't you two take over and make us all feel good?"

It takes a few seconds to sink in, but then the mood shifts as you wanted. Steve places both hands on your stomach and pulls you tighter against his body, grinding his hardening cock into your ass. Eddie follows and thrusts his crotch against your clothed cunt, hitting your clit so perfectly that you throw your head back. Steve takes the opportunity and leans down to kiss your neck lightly, lips just barely there, a tease that makes you want to whine. You don't have the chance as Eddie captures your mouth with his, licking inside forcefully. You're stuck between them, unable to move besides to the music, and you love it.

"Pretty girl wants to be a pillow princess, huh?" Steve whispers. He punctuates it with a nip to your earlobe and you shudder. You nod at his question. "Ah, ah, ah, baby. Gotta hear you beg for it."

"Yes," you breathe out. "Want you to take me."

Eddie chuckles, breath brushing over your swollen lips. "Oh, we will. We've been thinking about taking you since we each met you."

You moan. "More, wanna hear more."

"Well," Steve says as his hand slowly slides down your stomach and toys with the waistband of your jeans, "I thought about fucking you in the backseat of my car. Fogging up the windows, making it shake." His fingers dip inside your jeans and underwear and play with the hair down there. "I would take you home, but we would be just so desperate for it that we couldn't wait. We have to have each other as soon as possible." His middle finger goes far enough to part your lips and rubs through the wetness pooling. "That sound like a good fantasy, honey? Like something you’d want?"

You nod wildly, eyes fluttering as his finger makes passes but never stopping where you need him most.

"You wanna know what's been getting me off?" Eddie grabs your chin roughly, making you open your eyes and look at him. "Thinking about pulling you onstage during a set and fucking you in front of the crowd. Making you writhe and scream in pleasure, making you cum so many times you lose count. Marking you as mine before everybody, and showing them how I give it to you and how much you fucking love it." Your mouth has dropped open, and Eddie closes it. "How about that, angel? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Oh my god," you groan. "Yes."

Eddie smirks. "Knew we had a slut on our hands, Harrington."

"Acted so innocent but just a fucking whore underneath," Steve adds. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Yes, wanna be your slut." Steve's finger is pressing harder and you push into it. "Please fuck me."

"We can do that, princess. We can do it nice and hard." Eddie kisses you again, swallowing your moan. When he breaks away, he looks at Steve. "Get some water. I'm gonna take her back."

You whimper at the loss of Steve's finger, and he kisses your temple. "Go with Eddie, baby. I'll be right there."

He unsticks himself from your back, forcing you to lean forward into Eddie, who catches and holds you up easily. "Breathe, angel. Get your footing back." You close your eyes and focus on your breaths, sucking air in and holding it to slow down your heartbeat. With time, you can stand on your own and take your weight off of Eddie. "You can walk?" He confirms and you nod. He takes your hand and leads you back to the room from before; your steps are firm and sure. He takes you to the couch and has you sit, which you do gently, in control.

Steve appears and closes and locks the door behind him. "Fantasies are great, but we don't want anyone walking in on us, do we?" He asks as he walks over and gives you the water. You shake your head as you drink it greedily. It clears your head. You give the mostly-empty glass back to Steve, who sets it on a nearby table. "Alright now?"

"Yeah," you reply.

"Still want this?" Eddie asks.

"Fuck yeah."

Both boys grin darkly. "Now, what should we do with her?" Steve ponders to Eddie. Your thighs clench together at the third person tense. "Should we make her suck us both off?"

"Maybe we should take her from behind?" Eddie joins in.

"We could edge her until she screams for release."

"Or spank and punish her for being such a whore?"

With every new idea, you sink further into the couch, dripping with arousal. You wouldn't be surprised if it's on the cushion by now.

"I think one of us could fuck her while she sucks the other off."

"Maybe we'll have her take us both at the same time."

"Should we cum inside her or soak her with it?"

You finally whine. Steve and Eddie look at you with smirks and raised brows. "Please."

"What sounded good to you, baby?"

"Any of it, all of it. Just please fucking touch me."

Steve crowds in close, looming over you. "You wanna be touched, sweetheart? Gotta tell us where."

Instead, you crash your lips onto his. He'd been talking but you hadn't heard a word, too focused on his soft, delectable-looking mouth to listen. He growls and holds your head in his hands, tongue diving in and taking control. You give it back just as hard and tangle your fingers in his hair, loving the silkiness on your skin. Eventually you both need air and Steve nips your bottom lip before leaning back. "Not exactly what I asked," he says, both of you panting hard.

"You weren't complaining," Eddie points out smugly.

"Why would I?" Steve runs a thumb across your lips and you try to catch it between your teeth. "Pretty mouth is like a drug."

"Hear that, princess? Sounds like you got us addicted." Eddie sits on the couch next to you. You give him bedroom eyes and he chuckles meanly.

Steve rubs his hands up your thighs a few times, getting closer to your cunt each time but never quite making it there. "Still want us to touch you, baby?" You nod pathetically. "Let's get you out of these clothes then."

And then Eddie is lifting your shirt and Steve is unbuttoning your jeans. They both pull the pieces off and toss them into the room. You feel a little vulnerable as their eyes rove over you, but it's all lust and desire in their gazes. Without saying anything, they go for your undergarments. Eddie surprises you by popping open your bra with just two fingers, and he gives you a cocky smirk when you glance at him. He pulls it off as Steve hooks his index fingers in your underwear's waistband and starts to tug. He takes them off slowly, looking almost reverent as your soaked pussy is revealed.

"So pretty, angel," Eddie murmurs as he brushes fingertips across your hard nipples, making your skin goosebump. Steve can only nod in agreement when he finally gets your underwear untangled from your feet and drops it next to him. "Whose cock do you want first?"

All you can do is shrug under their stares.

He eyes Steve, who smiles benevolently. "How about Eddie here fucks you dumb first, and then I'll give you the big finale."

You nod enthusiastically, making them both snicker. "Seems like she's already gone dumb," Eddie teases.

You pout. "I don't think so."

They raise their eyebrows. "Full sentences, look at you go," Steve mocks. "Let's see if we can change that." He steps back as Eddie leans over you to grab your hips tightly. He then swings you onto his lap, clothed cock settling against your clit so perfectly that you whine. He cuts it off by kissing you and you reciprocate eagerly. You tug at the bottom of his shirt and he parts only to pull it over his head and throw it away, lips reclaiming yours immediately after. Your hands roam the newly revealed skin, hungrily grinding against his crotch.

"Can you kneel for me, baby?" Eddie asks breathlessly and you nod, sitting up on your knees. He quickly unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pushing them down with his boxers and kicking them away. His large cock slaps against his stomach once freed and you moan at the sight. He takes a hand and starts stroking it and you gape at the pre-cum he uses to lubricate it. "You ready for me?" There's a thread of concern in his voice.

But you nod frantically, so he holds it straight and you line it up. You throw your head back as his cock pushes inside. Eddie clutches your hips, making your pace slow and stopping with every inch to let you adjust. The stretch is a little painful but a lot delicious, and you both groan when he bottoms out.

You feel the couch dip next to you and lazily turn your head to see Steve sitting in your previous spot, naked as well and stroking his own cock slowly. It's a beautiful sight. "Feel good, honey?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Fuck yes," you breathe out, voice raising to a yell when Eddie lifts you up and pulls you back down sharply. He goes deeper this time, splitting you further, and it feels amazing. "Oh my god." Each word is punctuated by a thrust, Eddie starting a hard and fast rhythm.

"Knew you'd feel so fucking amazing, angel," Eddie pants out, fingers digging into your waist hard enough to leave bruises and your eyes roll up at the thought. "God, you look so good riding me."

"Love your cock," you moan. "Feels so good."

"Can't wait to make all our fantasies come true." Eddie continues to destroy you in so many ways. "Gonna fuck you every which way and then some."

You whimper. "Yes, please."

Your cunt is clenching and you're going slack in Eddie's grip. Steve can tell. "You gonna cum, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over Eddie's nice, hard cock while he's fucking you so well?"

"Yes," you hiss as Eddie speeds up your movements. "Wanna cum."

"Come on, baby," Eddie pleads. "Let go on my cock."

It only takes a few more thrusts before you're doing as you're told, keening at the devastating orgasm hitting you. Eddie practically holds you up as you buck against him, cunt pulsing around his cock and making him groan. "Fuck, your tight pussy is gonna make me cum, angel."

You tighten around his cock even more, enhancing your pleasure, and his head hits the back of the couch hard. "Cum for me," you beg breathlessly. "Want it."

"God, yes. Where do you want it?"

"Inside," you pant.

"Shit," Eddie swears. "I can do that." After a couple more thrusts he's spilling into you, and you groan lowly at the feeling of his cum in you. He slows down your hips to a stop and then gently lifts you off his cock, kissing you to distract from the discomfort. He keeps kissing you sweetly, mouths moving against each other in slow, caressing brushes, coming down from your respective highs.

"That was fucking hot," Steve says softly, and you look over at him to see him gripping his cock tightly. You zero in on it and clench around nothing. Steve notices and strokes it gaudily, making your mouth water at the pre-cum beading out at the tip. His voice turns cocky. "You not satisfied, beautiful? Need another hard dick to satiate that hunger?"

You nod and crawl from Eddie towards him. When you're close enough, Steve leans forward and kisses you, turning it sharp and raw, teeth biting into your lips lightly. "Turn around for me, baby. Lay in front of me." You do as asked and lay across the cushions, facing into the room. Laying your head on the armrest, you feel Steve shift until he's flush against your back. He grips your thigh and lifts your leg, and then your eyes are fluttering at the feeling of his cock rubbing against your pussy.

Without warning, he pushes inside slowly. Where Eddie was wide and girthy, splitting you open like nothing else, Steve is long and lean, and the position lets him hit so deep in you that you moan loudly when he bottoms out.

"You weren't lying, man," Steve groans. "This pussy is better than I ever imagined."

Your moan becomes a wail as he speeds up, hitting so deep, so hard that you see stars. He hooks your leg over the top of the couch and moves his hand from your thigh. You're almost missing his touch when his arm snakes around around your waist and he squeezes your tit tightly. Your jaw drops as he harshly twists your nipple; coupled with his cock, you're falling apart.

"You can't even imagine all the dirty things I wanna do to you and this fucking delicious cunt," Steve whispers, breath across your hot skin making you shudder. "I wanna invent new positions with you two."

"God, please," you keen. "Wanna be your fucktoy."

Steve moans. "Fuck, baby. Gonna make you my little cumslut. Gonna take pictures of you all fucked out. You're such a gorgeous sight when you're being fucked, sweetheart."

You whine, volume increasing whenever Steve's cock thrusts all the way in. Eddie's voice comes floating to you. "Can you touch yourself for me, pretty girl? Wanna see you fall apart."

Your hand automatically goes too your cunt and two fingers start rubbing tiny, fast circles on your clit. It feels so fucking good that you arch back into Steve, who sucks marks onto your neck. "I'm gonna cum!" You gasp, feeling the wave traveling towards you fast.

"Cum for me, honey," Steve demands. "Gotta feel you cum on my cock."

You wail as your orgasm crashes over you, making your body tense and jerk in Steve's grasp. His cock still hitting inside you extends the pleasure, making you throb with continuous waves. As you tighten around him, Steve cums as well, biting your skin sharply as he paints inside you, soothing with his tongue while slowing down his thrusts. You groan at the sting, one last burst of bliss before you're coming down from the high.

You two pant together, and then Steve is lightly pulling out of you, kissing your temple to subdue the feeling. Then Eddie is in front of you, gently wiping your pussy with a towel. You eye him.

"It's clean, I promise," he reassures with a chuckle. Satisfied, you let him continue, regaining your strength. When you find it, you slowly sit up, stretching your limbs and leaning forward so Steve can get out from behind you. Eddie tosses him the towel, and he cleans himself off too. You sink back into the couch and the boys mirror you on either side.

"Can we see you again?" Eddie asks hopefully.

You snort. "You better. You made a lot of promises you gotta keep."

"Well, we wanna keep those, obviously," Steve says. "But can we also take you on a date?"

"Oh!" You're surprised, and Steve and Eddie smile. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to, but I'm definitely down."

"We liked you before we thought about fucking you," Eddie teases.

Steve nods in agreement. "It was your cute dancing that caught both our eyes."

You groan.

"We loved it!" Eddie protests. You give him a look. "Cross our hearts."

They both go to actually do so, but you grab their hands instead, holding them on your lap. "Guess I'm a better dancer than I thought."

Your boys laugh.

#steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #mine

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saucy-sassy-sparkly · 2 years

Text

Moments: One

Note: It's here (and about an hour later than I expected to get it up... my toddler did NOT want to go to bed)!

I'm so excited for this little story; it'll likely be 6 parts total, but I have 4 drafted now. I have a general timeline, some of the pictures I use won't be accurate, I'll get things wrong, and I'll omit things that should've been part of the narrative. I hope you can just embrace some fiction and enjoy it with me.

Reader is female, but I've tried to keep her description as vague and I'm trying to be sure to use a variety of types of women in the picture inserts.

Pairings: Chris Evans x Female Reader

Word Count: ~5.5k

Please leave me some feedback, I'd love your thoughts! Happy Thursday!

Moment's Masterlist

One 1997: Killington Ski Resort

They say that you encounter your soulmate three times before you meet them. It may be a short conversation while waiting for a sandwich at a deli down the street. Or perhaps it is as children, playing in a hotel pool on a “once-in-a-lifetime vacation”. It may be a blind date gone horribly wrong, only to have the evening salvaged by a stranger at a bar.

In other instances, the encounters involve no contact: passing strangers on a sidewalk, concert goers in the same row, children at the same playground, and passengers on a train platform.

For some people, those moments are spaced a lifetime apart. For others, mere hours. And for some lonely folks, the introduction never happens; they’re never introduced, they never take the risk, or their circumstances don’t allow for the universe to do its job and put these two souls together.

Those three moments, be they brief moments or a whole evening, can link a couple together forever.

When the sun was up, it had been a balmy 29 degrees today, but now that the sun was quickly dipping below the mountain, the wind picked up and the temperatures were dropping. Chris pulled his goggles off his head and waited for Scott to get to the bottom of the trail. It was Scott’s first outing on a snowboard and it was taking all of Chris’s energy to be a good, supportive coach. In reality, Chris wanted to take off and leave him behind; he could’ve done at least twice as many runs if he hadn’t been waiting on Scott all day.

He saw his dad outside the lodge waving him over and got to him just as Scott appeared over the last ridge. “You guys want to do one more?”

Chris nodded, “I do, I’m not sure what Scott’ll want, but can I go one more time?”

“Sure, we’re going to head back on the shuttle. I expect you both back at the condo in the next 45 minutes.”

Chris agreed and watched his dad and sisters shuffle towards the shuttle that would take them back to the condos. He turned and saw Scott scooting towards him and couldn’t help but laugh. “One more run?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve finally got it.”

Rolling his eyes, he dragged Scott to the lift line. With the sun almost entirely gone now, the line was much shorter than it had been all day. It was the Saturday of President’s Day weekend; an annual tradition for the Evans crew to hit the slopes for the weekend, but they always knew going into it that it would be a crowded weekend with long lines. It didn’t matter though, Chris just loved being outside. At 16, he was also invincible and full of energy. He’d stay out here all day if his parents would let him.

In line, he mostly ignored Scott babbling about what dinner might be waiting for them at the condo; he was too focused on trying to see the girl in front of them. She was around his age, with long hair poking out from under her helmet. Her pink ski jacket and black snow pants left more than a lot to his imagination but with his “sexually active” card newly stamped, girls were just about all he could think about. Her laugh had caught his attention when they got into line; she was giggling at a joke the older man with her had made and since then, Chris hadn’t torn his eyes away from her. He watched the way she threw her head back to laugh loudly, he watched the way she was constantly moving, checking out her surroundings, pointing things out to the man with her; she talked with her hands and Chris found himself straining to try to hear her conversation.

“Chris?” Scott shoved him, making him slide a few feet forward and bump into the man in front of him.

“Sorry,” Chris muttered when both he and the girl turned around. The girl smiled shyly while the man eyed the boys; Chris shot a glare at Scott.

Scott mumbled his own apology and they both turned back around just as Chris punched Scott in the arm, “asshole.”

“I said I was sorry!” Scott yelped, rubbing his arm, “You weren’t paying attention to me, you were just staring at her!”

“SCOTT!” Chris groaned through gritted teeth, glancing to see if she’d heard.

She had. Damn it. She was glancing over her shoulder at the brothers, hiding a smile and blushing in the most adorable way Chris had ever seen. He gave her an embarrassed wave while he felt himself turning red. The second she turned back around, he punched Scott again.

“Ow,” Scott whined, rubbing his arm again. Chris ignored him and returned his mission to staring at the back of her head and hoping that his powers of telekinesis were finally working and he could get her to look at him again.

Up until that moment, when she found out the cute boy behind her was staring at her, all Y/N could think about was how annoyed she was that her cousins and parents had bailed on her and left her with Uncle Chuck. Not that he was bad, he was actually super fun and she had to admit, she was having a good time joking with him. Y/N was the youngest of the cousins but the best skier. She was also the most empathetic. Chuck’s wife had asked for a separation just days before the annual Y/L/N ski trip so he was here with his two teenagers who just wanted to try to steal from the mini bar and try to get drunk without the adults noticing. Chuck was taking his angst out on the slopes and for a while, Y/N hadn’t minded. But now that everyone else was back in the lodge, showered, and probably eating, she couldn’t help but pout.

But here she was, in line at the lift, listening to the boys behind her bicker and trying to keep things light for her uncle. They’d been joking about her dad, Chuck’s brother, for a while– he was an easy target with his bad dad jokes and weird obsession with restaurants that offered more than one style of BBQ sauce. When one of the boys had jostled Chuck, he whipped his head around looking more intimidating than he was. At 6’5”, her uncle’s lumberjack appearance was all show. He was just a teddy bear, but these boys didn’t know that. She was sure he looked terrifying.

Chuck had shot them both a glare and turned back to the front of the line while she kept glancing over her shoulder. The boys were both cute, probably somewhere around her age, maybe a little older. The taller one– the one who’d bumped into Chuck– had been blatantly staring at her during this interaction. She knew she was blushing, but she didn’t care. She liked his attention.

She was still getting used to attention like this. In middle school, she’d been in the smart classes but was always afraid to raise her hand in class. She liked getting lost in a book as much as she liked getting outside and moving. Her body was in constant motion, even when she was reading she was tapping her foot, fidgeting with her hair, or twisting her ring around her finger over and over again. She had her small group of friends who stayed to themselves and had the same Friday every week: Blockbuster, ice cream, and sleepovers.

But now that she was in high school, Y/N was a good little basketball player– good enough to have schools already interested in her as a freshman– and somewhere between the first day of high school and now, she’d noticed boys… and sometimes girls… staring at her. Groups of people she hardly knew came to her basketball games and waited to talk to her after. She was the only freshman on the varsity team and was already a starter; the older girls on the team had taken to her fairly quickly and adopted her into their groups of friends. She wasn’t sure what to do with the attention, but she knew she liked getting it from this cute boy behind her.

Y/N and Chuck boarded the lift, the brothers behind them still squabbling as she and Chuck left the platform. Y/N pulled her gaiter up around her nose and ears to protect her from the rush of cold air on the lift. They rode in silence, both of them lost in thought and at the top of the mountain, they disembarked and headed towards The Jug– both of their favorite trails.

Uncle Chuck slowed, clicking his boot out, “You go ahead, I’ll meet you in the lodge. My sock is all bunched up.”

Y/N nodded and took off, enjoying a moment to herself. She’d been with her brothers, her cousins, or her uncle all day. Everyone wanted to parallel ski or talk on the lift. It was kind of nice to have a minute alone to enjoy the sunset over the mountain. She was in no particular rush, staying off to the side and thinking that Uncle Chuck might catch up to her.

Not far behind her, Chris and Scott were disembarking the lift, headed in the same direction.

“I’ve got this,” Scott assured Chris, “I can do The Jug.”

“Scott, it's a black trail, are you sure? You’re still new.”

Scott was emphatic, “absolutely, I’ve definitely got the hang of it now. This is our last one tonight; tomorrow will be too crowded again. Let’s go!”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m positive!” Scott whooshed by Chris to the top of the path and around a turn. Chris trailed him, keeping a close eye on him. He watched as Scott took the start of the trail smoothly, crisply moving around a group. He was about 100 yards ahead of Chris and the mountain was getting steep quickly.

“Slow down, Scott!” Chris called, leaning in to pick up speed to be ready to help, “Scott!”

“I’m fine,” Scott yelled over his shoulder, half turning to find Chris. It was in that half turn that he started to wobble. He found his balance fairly quickly but was also picking up speed.

“Scott!” Chris yelled again, moving between people. Scott was starting to flail and struggle to regain control. Chris could see Scott pointed towards the edge of the trail and the woods; he knew that he’d told his brother to drop on his ass if he was out of control, but Scott wasn’t dropping. Chris also couldn’t see the pink ski jacket he’d been staring at was directly in Scott’s path.

“LOOK OUT!” He heard his brother yell; Scott was now leaning backward, trying to fall on his butt but clearly nervous about the impact. It was then that Chris could see her. Panic coursed through him. This was going to be his fault. He’d taught Scott to snowboard, he’d let him go on this difficult slope, he’d gotten lazy and tired of being in charge of Scott so he’d let him go ahead, and now he was going to be the reason she got hurt. Chris started yelling too as he willed himself to pick up more speed.

Her head turned too late; a snowboarder was plowing down the mountain right towards her. Her brain didn’t work fast enough; he was flailing and yelling, trying to slow himself down the steep incline. He dropped to his butt just feet in front of her, “Ohmygodohmygodohmyoooodddddd,” he yelled when he collided with her. He took her out by the ankles, she felt pain slice up her leg as she landed directly on top of him; they slid a few more feet, thankfully going slower due to all of the things they were dragging through the snow, and his snowboard took the impact of a tree at the edge of the trail. They bounced slightly, both of them jostled and tangled.

“Oh fuck, oh my god, oh shit, are you okay? I’m so sorry. Oh god,” it was one of the brothers from the lift line; he kept pushing at her, trying to get them untangled. He kept repeating, “I’m so sorry, I’ve never snowboarded before.” If it wasn’t so painful, it would’ve been funny: they were a pile of neon fleece and polyester unable to fully move their limbs because of the thickness of their snow clothes. Every time one of them moved, it shoved the other, so every time one of them successfully untangled one part of their clump, another thing got stuck together.

“Hold on,” she muttered to him, unable to get up to unclip her boots and therefore unable to get to her feet, “I can’t reach my boots.”

“Here, let me see if I can,” he said, trying to reach around her; she yelped and he immediately stopped. “Oh god, are you hurt?”

Before Y/N could answer she heard, “Scott, you idiot,” the other brother called as he came to a stop beside them. He immediately reached down and unclipped her boots from her skis before offering her a hand, “are you okay?” he asked as he pulled her to her feet and held her shoulders as she tried to regain her balance. She was about to nod when she finally got her feet under her and pain shot through her ankle as it gave out. “Shit,” he said, grabbing her by the waist and holding her. “What’s wrong?”

“It's my ankle. I’m sure it’s fine,” she waved him off before she tried to pull away from him to stand on her own. She winced again and slumped again, his arm quickly tightening around her.

“Way to go, Scott,” he snapped at his brother, who was still now on his knees and trying to stand. “Take her skis,” he said to his brother before turning to her, “I’ll get you down the mountain.”

“What?” Y/N asked and shook her head, “no, I’m fine, I can get down.”

He paused and dropped his head so he could make eye contact with her, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she replied, watching his blue eyes as a smile crept on his face.

“Well, Y/N, I’m Chris. The asshole who tried to kill you is my brother Scott. I’d really like it if you let me take you to the bottom of the mountain and get you checked out with the medics.”

“Seriously, I’m fine, I can just walk down or something,” she waved him off again and started to pull away from him, “thank you though.”

Scott piped up, now standing again next to her and holding her skis and poles, “please? I don’t want you to get more injured. Who are you here with? I can go get them and bring them to you. Or I can get a ski patrol.”

“Or,” Chris offered, “I can put you on my board and have you at the bottom of the mountain safely in no time. I promise you won’t get hurt with me. Do you trust me?” He held out his hand.

Y/N giggled, “Did you just quote Aladdin?”

Even in the fading light, she could see his blush, “maybe.”

“Fine.”

“Really? That worked?” She couldn't help noticing how genuinely surprised he seemed.

“Get me to the bottom safely, please,” Y/N gingerly stepped her good foot onto his snowboard and let him take her weight against him as he pulled her the rest of the way. It took them a minute to get into a comfortable position with her back against him; she was so much shorter he could see over her head easily. He tightened his grip on her, trying to calm his nerves. He’d promised to get her down safely, and now he had to deliver. He took off carefully, holding her waist to keep the weight off her leg and moving them very slowly down the side of the trail. His legs burned from the effort of keeping them slow, holding her upright, and trying to appear much more cavalier than he felt. It took far longer than normal to reach the bottom, and every bounce pushed them into each other making them both tense. By the time they were at the bottom, they were both flustered and blushing from the proximity.

When he was unattached from his snowboard, he turned to her, “why don’t you get on my back. I’ll take you to the first aid station.”

Y/N hesitated. It was one thing to be pressed up against him for the sake of getting to the bottom of the mountain. It was another to climb up on his back, in public, and parade through the lodge. “No, no, no, I can walk.”

He already had his back to her, reaching his arms around behind him. He looked over his shoulder, “we made it this far, let’s get all the way to the finish.”

Y/N was glad his back was to her because she was blushing furiously. She could hardly breathe. His arms around her waist the whole way down, his breath in her ear, his chest in her back… she’d been overwhelmed by his closeness and his touch. He had to be at least 16, a few years older than her, with the most adorable smile she’d ever seen and the brightest blue eyes. This sweet gesture was the most romantic thing she’d ever experienced and she had no idea how to act. She was trying not to let him see how nervous he made her.

He was still waiting for her, his back to her with his arms outstretched, and she heard him call her name softly. She nodded and reached for him while he bent down and she put her arms around his neck. “On three,” he said, leaning down further, “one… two…”

“Three,” Chris said, wrapping his fingers around her thighs as she hopped onto his back. He was sweating profusely from the exertion of a day on the slopes and now from having a cute girl pressed up against him for the last 15 minutes. It was impossible not to notice her little dimples or her blushes every time he made eye contact with her.

Thank God Scott can’t snowboard… Chris didn’t want her to be hurt, but he was excited for a chance to spend a few minutes away from his dumbass brother while he helped Y/N.

“Here we go!” Chris started to gallop into the lodge towards the first aid station.

Oh my God… I started to gallop… like a horse… shit. Chris thought to himself. This is so embarrassing. Oh, God. Oh, but she’s giggling. Okay, I guess I’m galloping now…

The first aid station was at the back of the lodge; he got her there and held tightly onto her legs, not allowing her to slide down his back, “I’m not putting you down until you’re with a medical professional. You’re not walking around on that ankle.”

“Chris,” she meant to whine but hearing her say his name like that made Chris’s heart thump harder.

“I’m serious, Y/N. Not until you’re with someone.”

She huffed a sigh but dropped her chin on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if he was on the brink of melting into the floor from the overstimulation of cuteness she radiated or if he was grateful for the many layers of protection his snow suit provided from anyone seeing his growing hard-on.

They got her checked in and Chis finally let her slide off his back and onto a cot, but he sat down next to her. “Thanks,” she said quietly, catching his eye and giving him another delicious blush. He noticed she was a little teary-eyed; she must’ve been in more pain than she let on.

“How are you feeling?”

Y/N shrugged, “not great, I’m hoping it isn’t broken.”

“That would suck,” Chris agreed, trying and failing to think of anything to say to her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t come up with a joke or anything remotely witty. He thought about reaching out to take her hand, but his own were sweating too much. He settled for nervously rubbing his hands along his thighs and glancing back at her. She averted her eyes quickly and they both nervously giggled.

“You really don’t have to stay with me,” she forced herself to make eye contact with him. Out loud, she’d told him to go, but in her head, she prayed he’d stay next to her a little longer. His presence made her feel comfortable.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“NO!” she answered too quickly and recalibrated, “no, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to stay. I’ll be okay. Is Scott okay?”

Chris turned his body to face her squarely, “I’m happy right where I am. Scott is fine.”

“Okay,” she whispered, twisting her hands in her lap and willing herself to say more. God, she was so nervous. The way he looked at her made her pulse race. For as much as her ankle hurt, all she could think about was how dry her mouth was and how much she hoped he’d hold her hand, put his arm around her, or do anything to initiate contact again.

“So, uh,” Chris tapped his fingers on his legs, trying to channel his nervous energy. “Are you from Vermont?”

“No, I live in Maryland.” She said quickly and forced herself to continue the conversation, “What about you?”

“Massachusetts. We come up to ski on President's Day weekend every year.”

Y/N nodded, “we usually stay closer to home but my parents wanted to do something different this year.”

They were both silent for a few seconds, each of them anxiously racking their brains for how to prolong this moment. The door to the examination room opened at that moment and a nurse practitioner came in, “well, Miss Y/N, I hear you took a tumble? Let’s take a look.” She started to pull out her stool and move towards Y/N, “I’m going to take your boot off, okay?”

Y/N sat up straighter and nodded to the NP while Chris jumped off the cot, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I get your parents? Are they in the lodge somewhere?”

“I think my parents took the shuttle back to the hotel, but my uncle was behind me. I’m sure he’s waiting for me by now.” She winced when the boot slid off, clenching her teeth. Tears formed in her eyes again and Chris returned to his spot next to her. He tentatively put an arm around her; without another thought, Y/N leaned into him and whimpered quietly while the practitioner manipulated her ankle. She looked up at Y/N sympathetically and then at Chris, “were you getting her uncle?”

“Oh, right,” Chris slid his arm away from Y/N. Tears were tracking down her face and he didn’t want to leave her. This girl he’d known less than an hour was now his only concern.

“The guy you were in line with is your uncle, right? What’s his name?”

“Chuck Y/L/N. He’s a really tall guy in a red snow jacket and–” she cut herself off when he came storming into the room with Scott hot on his heels.

“Y/N,” he barked, “are you alright? I heard what happened. This one–” he pointed behind him at Scott, “ –found me.”

“I’m okay, we just got started.” She gestured to the nurse practitioner who was still gently moving her foot and ankle, each time making Y/N wince or yelp.

“Damn snowboarders,” he glared at Chris and Scott before he pushed by Chris and sat down next to Y/N, “think they own the whole mountain. Goodbye, boys.”

“Uncle Chuck–,” Y/N started, looking up at Chris but Chuck cut her off with a stern, “goodbye,” before he started talking to the practitioner and asking questions.

Chris gave Y/N one last look and a wink; Scott apologized for the millionth time and waved half-heartedly before heading to gather their belongings and go to the shuttle. On the short ride from one side of the Killington property to the other, Scott talked the whole way, lamenting and then complaining of his own injury. Chris tried to sympathize with him, and he tried to listen, but he kept thinking about Y/N.

He thought about her all the way through dinner and a round of video games after dinner. He thought about her as he got ready for bed, and he was still thinking about her when he fell asleep. Maybe he’d come back from this long weekend to find that a new student was enrolled at school… Y/N. In his daydream, he was of course the one the guidance counselor called to show her around campus, which led to inviting her to eat lunch with him and his buddies, which led to asking her to go to the mall after school, which led to going to the movies that weekend, which led to kissing her goodnight, which led to…

Y/N however, had spent the rest of the day and well into the evening at the local hospital. The nurse practitioner had determined her ankle was likely broken and had advised her to be taken for X-rays. The emergency room staff confirmed it after several hours in the ER, and by the time it was set and she was in a cast with crutches, it was almost midnight. She was emotionally and physically exhausted. She’d begged and pleaded with her parents not to try to find the boy who’d done it; that it was an accident and they didn’t need to contact his parents and try to “decide how to deal with it.” After a very tearful conversation, her mother had finally convinced her father to drop the subject and let them get on with their weekend.

By the next morning, her mother had profusely offered to stay with her, rent movies and hang out in the condo with her, or take her shopping, but she’d decided to stay in the lodge and read her book with hot chocolate and the roaring fire. Her family left to ski for the day, her parents promising to come back and check on her at lunch. She was trying not to mope and moan, particularly because her dad and Uncle Chuck were still discussing the idea of talking to Scott and Chris’s parents. God, the last thing she needed was them to threaten to sue them. She knew it was all out of care, but both men could be a little overzealous. Y/N was certainly disappointed that Chris lived in Massachusetts and she was in Maryland, but she didn’t want them to stay in touch over a lawsuit.

She’d hobbled to the lobby and settled in front of the fire, and was about a chapter into her book when she felt the couch cushion beside her dip with the weight of a new body. They were way too close; who does that? Who sits down directly next to someone when there are multiple couches and oversized chairs? She peaked out of the corner of her eye and couldn’t help the grin that slid on her face. Chris was next to her, his own book open, and he was casually reading with a giant smirk on his face. He didn’t look at her immediately, instead, he continued to read and flipped the page dramatically.

Y/N continued to grin, knowing she was also blushing and feeling her whole body start to sweat, but she turned back to her book and forced herself to read. Another page in, and she felt his eyes on her. She continued her charade just as he had, and continued to read. He huffed a sigh and dropped his book in his lap to cross his arms. She picked up a piece of hair on her shoulder and twirled it around her finger, hoping it seemed casual and cool, while she finished her chapter. When she was done, she quietly put her book in her lap, picked up her hot chocolate, took a sip, and looked at him over the rim of the mug.

“Oh hey,” she whispered, hoping she sounded cooler than she felt.

“Hey yourself. Good book?”

She nodded and stared at him for a minute, taking in his perfectly gelled hair, his big handsome smile, and his captivating blue eyes. “Why aren’t you out there?” She gestured towards the huge windows next to them.

“I saw you when we left breakfast downstairs. I thought you might need some company today. You know, since Scott tried to kill you. I feel responsible for you.”

“Shouldn’t Scott feel responsible for me?”

“He’s proven that he can’t be trusted,” Chris pointed to her ankle, which was propped on the coffee table. There was a lull in conversation; Y/N was tapping her fingers on the cover of her book. Chris started to reach out to her and pulled his hand back; after taking a deep breath, he tried again and covered her hand with his. “I was also hoping you’d want to hang out with me.”

Words, Y/N. Any words right now. Say anything, you have to say something, oh my god he wants to hang out with you SAY SOMETHING. Y/N’s whole body froze as she stared at his hand on hers and his eyes fixed hard on her face. She had to be the color of a tomato right now. She had to be sweating. Could he feel that? Could he tell she was sweating? Were the tops of her hands as sweaty as her palms?

She settled for a shy nod and another lull settled over them, this one was more comfortable. She spilled her hot chocolate and they traded a few lines back and forth about the snow and how nice the fire felt. Finally, Y/N said, “let’s play 20 questions.”

“Isn’t that the game where you try to guess an object or something? You know like ‘is it bigger than a bread box?’”

She rolled her eyes, “I guess that’s the wrong name, but how about this: we each ask a question and both of us have to answer.”

“I’ll go first,” he agreed, looking around the room before he settled on his first question, “when’s your birthday?”

“April 2. You?”

“June 13. Your turn.” They went back and forth, moving into books and tv shows they watched, how they spent time with friends, and what their hobbies were. Y/N was fidgeting constantly, entirely unable to get comfortable and Chris kept jumping up to help her adjust her propped-up leg.

After Y/N finished telling a story about a time her social studies teacher split his pants during class, Chris’s laughter subsided and he smirked, “who was your first kiss?”

She bit her lip and dropped her eyes, “Kyle Brown. We were in 4th grade. It was the last day of school, he spent all day literally pulling my ponytail, then he kissed me on the bus, got off, and moved away. I never saw him again.”

Chris cackled, “what a chicken. If I was going to kiss you, I’d make sure I’d see you again every day.”

Y/N felt herself redden from the tips of her toes all the way to her hair; at the same time, her heart dropped. He said if he was going to kiss her. Meaning it was a hypothetical statement... Meaning he wasn’t going to kiss her. In this afternoon spent together on this sofa, she’d been convinced he was flirting and was convinced he’d kiss her. She stared down at her hands, trying to force a smile while she listened to his answer.

“Y/N?” He asked after she’d been quiet for a moment. She looked up and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’ve been quiet for like a whole minute,” he laughed, “you okay?”

“I’m fine, I should just go back to the condo, I need to take some painkillers,” she started to stand up, reaching for her crutches that Chris thrust at her.

“Let me walk you back, I can help you get your meds and get you settled. Will you be alone?”

“It’s okay, I can get back on my own,” her voice was quiet while she tried to be sure she had everything. “Thanks for sitting with me today.”

“But I–”

She had already started to move away from him and he followed her, navigating around furniture and people; she tried to pick up her pace. She was embarrassed and sad that she’d misinterpreted the time together and even more embarrassed that she’d gotten her hopes up that a boy from Massachusetts would kiss her. It’s not like anything could come of it.

“Bye, Chris,” she glanced over her shoulder and said it as firmly as possible before starting to move again. He stopped in his tracks and just stared at her, watching her walk out of the lobby and into the wind.

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foundtherightwords · 6 months

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Headlights on Dark Roads - Chapter 2

Pairing: Eddie x Chrissy (No Vecna/No Upside Down AU)

Summary: Eddie and Chrissy are in a relationship, having reconnected after they both moved back to Hawkins. However, Laura's disapproval still looms over them, and when Eddie has an opportunity to reunite and revive Corroded Coffin, Chrissy has to make a difficult choice between going with him to LA and staying in Hawkins to take care of her ailing mother.

Warnings: angst (oh so much angst), abuse (Laura Cunningham is her own warning), implied/mentions of ED, implied/mentions of homophobia, some smut (non-explicit - in this chapter)

Chapter word count: 5.5k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chrissy felt almost lightheaded with excitement as she walked through Indianapolis Airport with Eddie, their hands clasping each other tightly. Followed closely behind them were Gareth and his wife, Nicole, pushing their daughter in a stroller. Both wore the same half-giddy, half-bewildered look that Chrissy knew she had on her face and saw reflected on Eddie's as well. The three of them—except for Nicole and the baby—were on their way to LA.

It had been a pleasant surprise when Gareth jumped at Eddie's suggestion to rejoin Corroded Coffin. Eddie had stressed to Gareth that if they got this deal, it would turn their lives upside down, but apparently, Gareth wanted the change. Nicole told Chrissy that Gareth had been thinking of quitting his soul-sucking job anyway, and he had never seemed so happy since he started playing the drums again. Eddie and Gareth had spent the weeks after Thanksgiving rehearsing to get Gareth up to speed, and they'd planned to arrive in LA a few days before their meeting with the label to rehearse with Jeff and Grant as well.

Looking at Eddie now, Chrissy wondered if he knew how much he'd inspired his friend. How much he'd inspired everyone around him, including her. When he asked her to accompany him to LA, he'd said he wouldn't be able to do it without her there to provide emotional support, so she had happily accepted. It was the week before Christmas, the cheer team only had one game left to attend, and she had never been to California. What Chrissy didn't tell Eddie, though, was that this trip would be her first step to truly, truly severe the apron strings.

Laura, predictably, had wailed about being abandoned when Chrissy announced the trip, but Chrissy had tried her hardest to ignore the usual prickle of guilt. "It's only for a week, Mom," she said firmly. "I've stocked the fridge and arranged for someone to come check on you every day. You have your cell phone and your Life Alert. You'll be fine."

Laura had spluttered indignantly, but there was nothing else for her to say.

Of course, Chrissy had thought about what it would mean for her and Eddie if Corroded Coffin got this record deal. Though they hadn't discussed it, she was sure that if he was to relocate to LA, Eddie would ask her to come with him. They had already talked about moving in together... but that was only a few miles away. When it came down to it, would she have the strength to move far from her mother, all the way to the other side of the country?

She turned to look at Eddie again, at his profile that she'd grown to love, his sharp jawline, the cute nose she liked to tweak playfully to get him up, the tender mouth she couldn't stop kissing, and felt slightly ashamed that she was only thinking of herself when Eddie's career was at the brink of something so monumental. Sensing her gaze, Eddie turned around with a smile, and Chrissy smiled back at him, relieved.

"Nervous?" they both blurted out, and both laughed.

"Not as long as you're here," Eddie said. "You?"

"What do I have to be nervous about?"

"I don't know, leaving your students... your mom?"

So he understood. He always understood.

"No, it's fine," she said, squeezing his hand. Yes, she would have the strength. He would be her strength.

Her phone rang, interrupting her train of thought. Chrissy dug it out of her bag. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the number—Rachel, the school nurse whom she'd asked to keep an eye on Laura. Perhaps Rachel just forgot something...

"Chrissy?" Rachel's frantic voice immediately dispelled Chrissy's hope for a simple check-in. "Your mom just had a fall."

Chrissy could feel blood draining from her body, leaving her numb and cold. All around her, the usual hubbub of an airport seemed to increase tenfold, drowning everything out. Scattered phrases came through the phone, "unconscious", "stroke", "ambulance", "hospital", but they barely registered, skimming over her brain like pebbles across a frozen lake.

"Chrissy, what's wrong?" Eddie's voice came through the garbled noises in her ears, and his hand gripped her shoulder, shaking some life back into her. "What's the matter?"

"My mom's had another stroke," she said, surprised that her voice was so steady. "I gotta go."

There was a moment's confusion as the others crowded around her, trying to figure out what had happened. Then Eddie said, "I'm coming with you."

"No!" She seized his hand. "You're not. You have to go to LA. It's more important."

"The meeting's not until next Wednesday—"

"No," Chrissy said again, softer. "You guys have to prepare. I'll be OK. There's nothing you can do anyway."

Eddie opened his mouth to protest, but Chrissy turned away, afraid her resolve was going to waver the longer she looked at him. Nicole stepped up. "You two go. I'll drive her back." Chrissy nodded at her thankfully. They had all driven to Indianapolis together in Gareth's station wagon to save on gas and parking.

What followed was flurry of kisses and goodbyes and good luck wishes, and then Chrissy was in the parking lot, buckling the baby into her car seat while Nicole folded up the stroller, and before she knew it, they were driving down the highway, back toward Hawkins.

"If they found her in time, she'll be OK," Nicole said. "Don't worry."

Chrissy could only nod. The truth was, she wasn't exactly worried. She didn't quite know what she was feeling. Anxiety was twisting her insides, much like the strap of the bag she was winding and unwinding around her hands, but she wasn't sure if it was anxiety for her mother or herself. She spent the rest of the car ride focusing on the baby's babbles in the backseat and the sound of the highway, to tune out her own jumbled thoughts.

Dusk was falling by the time Nicole dropped Chrissy off at Hawkins Memorial Hospital. Chrissy thanked her and stumbled into the searing light of the reception area, toward the front desk. She gave her mother's name. The receptionist typed something into the computer and explained that her mother was in a coma and they were still running tests, but they would let her know as soon as there were any changes.

Chrissy collapsed into a chair in the waiting room. The anxiety she'd felt in the car had spread outward, pulling at her limbs and her body, threatening to tear her into a thousand pieces. A thought, a hideous thought, half of hope and half of fear, kept circling her mind like a bird of prey, waiting for the moment she lowered her defenses so it could pounce on her and devour her. She twisted her bag strap again, anything to keep her hands and mind busy, anything to keep that predator from alighting.

"Chrissy?"

She looked up, not believing in her own eyes. Eddie was walking toward her, worry lines etched across his face. She wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around him, but shock and exhaustion rooted her to the seat.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He took her hands. "I can't leave you to deal with this alone."

"But—the flight—"

"I changed the ticket. I'm flying out on Monday. Plenty of time."

"I told you—"

"I know what you told me. I want to be here," he said. There was no more arguing after that. Eddie sat down next to her, pulled her into his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and Chrissy felt herself relax. The circling bird of prey was gone for now. She put her head on Eddie's chest, certain that nothing could come for her as long as he was here.

***

Laura was in a coma for five days. Eddie stayed with Chrissy for three of those, making sure she ate and slept, accompanying her during those endless hours in the hospital room while she sat and stared at her mother, trying not to give shape to the thought that was still circling her head. When they were not in the hospital, she stayed with him at his apartment, spending the night lying awake in his arms.

She called her brother Ryan. He asked if she needed help, but she heard the reluctance in his voice and said no. If it was this hard for her, she couldn't imagine how difficult it would be for Ryan to try to care for their mother, after all the horrible things she'd put him through, after she'd left him homeless and penniless at the age of eighteen. Chrissy had been unable to help Ryan then, and she wasn't going to put this burden on him now.

On Monday, the doctors said Laura's condition was stable, though she still hadn't woken. Chrissy had to all but threaten Eddie into getting on the flight to LA. "If you don't go, Eddie," she said, "I'll never"—she wracked her tired brain for the worst thing in the world—"I'll never talk to you again!"

So he smiled and kissed her and left, with a promise to call her as soon as the meeting was over to let her know how it went.

With Eddie gone, the bird of prey in her mind was back, only it was a different one this time, not a circling raptor waiting to attack, but a vulture sitting and waiting patiently, staring at her soul with its baneful eyes, impossible to ignore.

On Wednesday evening, Eddie called. Chrissy went out into the hallway to answer.

"How did it go?" Chrissy asked. Her voice was shakier than when she asked the doctors about her mother.

"It went... well."

"Well as in they love you and want to sign you, or well as in they were polite but it went nowhere?"

"The first one. They want us to play for some execs on Friday."

Chrissy let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, Eddie."

"I know." She could hear the smile in his voice, and it made her miss him so much she almost burst into tears. "How's your mom?"

"She woke up."

"That's good."

"Yeah, she's going to have to stay a while, but looks like she's out of danger."

"Great! How are you?"

"I'm... OK."

There were some noises on the other end, people calling for him. "Listen, I gotta go now," Eddie said quickly, "but I'm coming back next week, and we'll talk then, OK?"

After she hung up, Chrissy leaned back against the sterile white wall of the hospital corridor. The vulture was still there, waiting. Let's talk then, you and I.

Eddie's moving back to LA, and he's going to ask you to come with him, the vulture said, in her own voice.

"What of it?" she snapped.

You're going to turn him down.

"And why would I do that?"

Please. You can't even have a full meal without him holding your hand. How are you going to handle living in a strange city on your own, while he's on the road for months on end, getting up to God knows what? You're going to fall apart, and he'll have to come running back to take care of you, like he came back from the airport that day. The vulture was gloating, its words like a sharp beak tearing at her heart, and Chrissy couldn't think of how to respond, because it was right, right about everything. She slumped into a chair, suddenly exhausted.

And what about your mom? the vulture piped up, sounding eerily like Laura now.

"What about her?"

You're going to leave her, to swan off to LA with your boyfriend, after all those thoughts you had about her?

"I'm not!"

As soon as Chrissy thought this, an agonizing, resigned feeling of acceptance settled over her. It was true. Laura was going to need 24/7 care now. Chrissy couldn't leave her. And she couldn't saddle Eddie with all her troubles either. She'd decided that when he came running back from the airport to stay with her at the hospital. At that moment, she'd known. She knew that if she asked him to, he would throw everything away to be with her, and so she made up her mind that she would never, ever ask.

It was going to be the hardest thing she'd ever done, but she had to do it.

Good. The vulture flew away, satisfied.

Chrissy spent the next seven days waiting for Eddie's return with both hope and dread, while steeling her resolve and rehearsing what she was going to say to him. She never got very far.

On the day Eddie came back from LA, he insisted that he didn't need her to pick him up, so Chrissy got a nice dinner waiting for him at the apartment. Even as she heard him taking the stairs two at a time, her tears were threatening to flow, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to put on a happy face.

Eddie ran in and swept her up in a hug. He smelled of sun and dust—exotic smells for an Indiana winter, which, strangely enough, made it a little easier for Chrissy to pull away from him. Already he felt distant, like he belonged to another world.

But there was no fooling Eddie. The moment he looked at her, he noticed something wrong.

"What is it?" he asked. "Is everything OK with your mom?"

With a herculean effort, she smiled and shook her head. "Everything's fine. Let's eat before it gets cold, and then we'll talk, OK?"

Somehow she managed to keep calm through the meal while Eddie told her about the meeting and the contract. Unfamiliar words flew over her head—album cycle, rights, royalty, advance, touring—but she heard the excitement in his voice and saw the happiness on his face, and it pained her that she was going to have to bring it all down.

"How did Gareth and Nicole take it?" she asked.

"They're freaking out, but in a good way," Eddie said with a grin. "Nicole's really looking forward to moving to LA, actually." She must have winced at that, because he put his fork down and peered at her face. The tenderness and worry in his eyes tore at her heart, and she had to look away.

"That's what this is about, isn't it?" he asked quietly. "About me moving back to LA?"

Chrissy could only nod, afraid her voice would betray her if she spoke.

Eddie reached across the table to grab her hand. "Listen, I know you've got a lot on your mind right now, with your mom and everything, but I've been thinking..." She held her breath, waiting for the axe to fall. "Would you move to LA with me?"

It broke her heart to think that if he had asked a week ago, or even three days ago, her answer would have been an enthusiastic "Yes". Now she looked at him, unable to speak. In her tear-filled eyes, he saw her answer.

"You're staying here," he said. It wasn't a question. "Because of your mom." She nodded again. A teardrop fell from her eyes to the table and spread, darkening the wood like blood.

He took a moment to digest that. Then he pushed away from the table and stood up, tugging at his hair with an irritable hand. "Is there any way—any other option?" he asked. "Like hospice or a nurse or—"

"I can't afford that," Chrissy said, finding her voice at last.

"I can help. I've got my advances from the label—"

"No." She shook her head once. "I can't let you do that."

"But I want to."

He knelt down in front of her, and now it was her turn to stand and walk away so she didn't have to see his pleading look, the hurt in his eyes. The grand speeches she'd been preparing all went out the window the moment he looked at her like that, and she could only mutter, "I can't keep letting you fight for me."

"Can't your brother do something?"

"He doesn't want to have anything to do with Mom. I don't blame him."

She could feel Eddie's questioning eyes on her as she paced around the apartment in restless, tortured steps. Part of her wanted to get this over with and run from here as far as possible, while another part wanted to stay, because it would mean she could be with him for a little longer.

"So it's OK for you to make the sacrifice, but not him?"

"She's my mom!"

"She doesn't even let you eat. If she could, she'd probably have a stroke on purpose just to keep you tied to her!" Eddie shouted.

Chrissy recoiled, as if he'd just hit her. From the look on his face, it was clear Eddie realized he'd gone too far as well, but it was too late. She turned to face him, her eyes hardening.

"How dare you," she said. "She may not be a good mother, but she's not a—a psychopath!"

She pivoted on her heels toward the door. Eddie dove at her and grabbed her wrist. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, pulling her to him. Chrissy fought against him, but something much stronger than his arms wrapped itself around her heart, making her weak. "I'm sorry," he said again, softly, as she melted into him with a sob. "Look, I'm not asking you to move to LA this instant. We're getting the new record out, and then touring for at least a year after that. You'll stay here. We'll call each other. I'll come back to visit, or you'll fly out when you can—"

For a moment, Chrissy almost let herself be convinced. But she had been in a long-distance relationship once, after she dropped out of nursing school. She'd moved to Chicago to escape her mother's wrath, leaving her boyfriend at the time in Indianapolis. They'd tried to make it work. He'd promised to follow her as soon as he graduated. Then one missed call turned into ten, canceled visits piled up, and affection and longing had turned into resentment and doubt, and eventually, it had broken them up.

She didn't want to go through all that again, not with Eddie. She told him as much.

"It's only for the first year or so," he protested. "And then once the band is settled, I can move back—"

"Do you see much of a music scene around here? There's a reason all the big artists are based in LA and New York, Eddie."

He took a deep breath. "OK, maybe we can take your mom with us then."

She gave a shaky laugh, knowing how much it cost him to even offer that. "I can't do that to you."

"And yet you're doing it to yourself?" Eddie held her out at arm's length and looked her in the eye. "Why?" She heard the unsaid words behind his question. Why are you doing this, when she's so horrible to you?

"Do you know what my first thought was that day at the airport, when I found out she's had another stroke?" she said. "I thought, I hope she doesn't survive. All those days we were in the hospital, while she was in a coma, I kept thinking, I hope she doesn't wake up." And there it was, the bird of prey that kept circling her mind during those long hours, when time seemed to stand still between the white, featureless hospital walls, the thought that she couldn't bring herself to face, to admit. Now she shuddered with self-disgust and buried her face in her hands. "What kind of a daughter am I, to wish my mother dead?"

He seized her hands and held them between their chests. "You're not a bad person for that. I wish my dad were dead all the time."

"But if he came back and asked for your help, would you?"

Eddie laughed, a mirthless sound. "No. I'd tell him to go to Hell."

Chrissy wished she had his conviction. "I've failed as a student, as a sister, as a wife," she said. "I'm not going to fail as a daughter as well."

He pressed her palms to his cheeks. "You haven't failed me."

His gentleness hurt so much worse than his anger. Chrissy shook her head. "Don't." She tried taking a step back, but Eddie was holding her hands tightly, and she found herself drawn forward, inexorably, until they were locked together in an embrace.

"I'll be OK, Eddie," she said, to herself as much as to him. "She can't hurt me anymore."

"I know."

She didn't know how long they stood like that, looking into each other's eyes, not saying anything, not even quite breathing, as if they could just exist together in that moment, outside of time and space themselves. Then Eddie leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, so all that she saw were his eyes. The expression in them squeezed at her heart and her throat.

"We can't end it like this," he said. "I won't let you."

"It doesn't have to end."

"What do you mean?"

"We'll spend these remaining weeks together, like we always do. No talking about the future. And when you leave, you just leave. No goodbye."

The little spark of hope in his eyes died away, and the knot around Chrissy's heart tightened.

"Maybe we can figure something out," he said.

"How? What?"

"I don't know. But we have three weeks. We'll think of something."

For once, Chrissy allowed herself to hope.

***

They never figured anything out in those three weeks.

They were too busy. Chrissy spent her days shuffling between the hospital and work, before going back to Eddie's apartment for dinner and sleep. They enjoyed each moment together but never talked about the future. If their nights together were a little more poignant, more passionate, they didn't comment on it. If Eddie was packing or preparing for his move, he didn't let Chrissy see it. Luckily, he didn't have much stuff to pack anyway.

On Christmas morning, Chrissy visited her mother. Laura listened, bitter-eyed and silent—the stroke had affected her speech—as Chrissy explained how things were going to be different between them from now on. "I'm done trying to please you, Mom," she concluded and left to spend the rest of the day with Eddie and Wayne.

In the no-man's land between Christmas and New Year, Chrissy got her house ready for when her mother was discharged, adding a ramp outside, installing bars on walls and guards on sharp corners of tables and counters, and putting in a hospital bed. The work was dull, but it kept her busy, and Eddie was there to help her, always.

On New Year's Eve, neither Chrissy nor Eddie felt like going out, so they stayed in Eddie's place, put on some music, and opened a bottle of champagne. Neither mentioned that Eddie was leaving the day after, though the knowledge hung over them like a heavy cloud. Chrissy wondered how Cinderella ever managed to enjoy the ball, knowing she only had until midnight. They'd had three weeks, and it still wasn't long enough. It was never enough.

Fireworks and cheers started going off on the street outside, yet they remained as they were on the couch, leaning against each other with their arms locked around each other's waist, her head in the crook of his shoulder, neither wanting to say "Happy New Year", neither wanting to accept the passing of the time.

"You'll come out to visit," Eddie said. "I'll show you Hollywood, and we can go down to Santa Monica. And when we have a show in Chicago or Detroit, you can come too. You still haven't seen us live yet. Make that your New Year resolution."

Every single word he uttered, no matter how innocuous, was like a needle in Chrissy's heart.

"Don't," she murmured. "No goodbye, remember?"

"That's just pretending," he said.

"Yes." She lifted her head to look at him and tried to smile. "Aren't you good at that? Think of it as a long D&D campaign."

Eddie snorted. "You've never even played D&D, Cunningham."

"I'll play this one."

He gazed at her for a long, long time. Then, quietly, almost inaudibly, he said, "OK," and kissed her.

His hot, languid lips brushed over her face, lingering over her features, forehead, temples, eyes, cheeks, then nose. Despite the pain in her heart, Chrissy couldn't help but laugh a little when he kissed the tip of her nose.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Memorizing," he said. "I'm going to memorize every inch of you."

Even that was a painful reminder of his imminent departure. But the next moment, he kissed the pain away, and Chrissy let herself get lost in his touches, his soft lips and strong hands, and forget everything else.

When he finally reached her mouth, she parted her lips for him, and both exhaled, their breaths mingling into one. He cupped her jaw with one hand, while the other splayed across the small of her back, pulling her even closer. But there was no need for him to grip her so tight. She wasn't going anywhere, not when his tongue was dreamily tracing a path over her lips and her arms had tangled themselves around his neck of their own accord. Their bodies seemed melded together, the layers of clothes between them unable to contain the heat that kept building the longer they kissed.

Still, they refused to hurry. Why hurry, when time no longer existed? They lingered over every step, finding pleasure in every tiny action, or perhaps even the tiniest action had become so much more pleasurable when they knew each would be the last.

Chrissy felt Eddie's hand move under her shirt and rest on the bare, soft skin of her stomach for a moment, before he slowly unbuttoned her cardigan, pulling it off of her shoulders, and holding out his arms so she could do the same for him. His sweater got stuck, and both laughed as they struggled to peel it off. They managed eventually, though the sweater tore a bit at the neck.

"I'll sew it back for you later," Chrissy said without thinking.

Then she remembered that there would be no later, and her smile disappeared. The pain came crashing back, choking her, as if Eddie had already gone. This was a mistake. She shouldn't have stayed. She should've made a clean break. Yes, it would have hurt like hell, but at least it would have cauterized the wound. Staying only made it fester.

Chrissy rose from the couch, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as she tried to fight off the stinging tears rising to her eyes. Eddie got up with her and took her wrists in his gentle hands, anchoring her to him. "Hey," he said softly. "I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere." The word yet hovered between them like a ghost, unspoken.

She met his eyes, those big, brown eyes that she didn't know how much she loved until now. Like everything in her life, the realization came too late.

No. It wasn't too late. Like he'd said, he was still here, and she was still here, and somehow, she would find a way to fit a lifetime of love into the few hours they had left.

"What do you want to do?" Eddie asked. "Just tell me."

She waited until her breath slowed. There was no time to waste in crying and regret. She had to make the most of this. "Roll for initiative?" she joked, using the only D&D phrase she knew.

It got a laugh out of Eddie. "Oh, I have so much to teach you."

Like a miracle, his laugh wiped away the pain gnawing at her heart. Their lips collided again, their kisses becoming more urgent, more incendiary as he lifted her up and she locked her ankles behind his back, not letting go even when he laid her down on the bed. Off came her shirt and her bra. She briefly unhooked her legs from around his waist so he could remove her jeans, with the solemn and reverent manner of someone uncovering some secret of the universe. His ever-busy mouth set out on another mapping journey, this time starting from her ankles, to her calves, to behind her knees, left leg and then right leg, left, right, left, right, higher and higher, his gossamer breath skimming over her skin, tickling and caressing, until she was arching her back and aching for him.

"Please, Eddie..." she panted.

Maddeningly, he just kept going higher and higher. "Patience, sweetheart," he said, and she could feel his smile against her skin. "I said I'm going to memorize every inch of you, and I meant it. Every"—her leg shook as he placed an expert kiss on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh—"single"—another one, on the other side—"inch."

But she had no patience left. She'd forgotten her resolve to make the night last as long as she could. She only knew that she wanted him, and she wanted him now.

And just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he was there, where she wanted him. That was Eddie all over. Always knowing what she wanted and how to give it to her, without her ever having to ask. As she came apart against his mouth, the cry that escaped her was almost a sob, part relief, part ecstasy.

Chrissy didn't realize she was crying until Eddie shuffled up the bed to join her and brushed his fingertips over her wet cheeks.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know," she whispered back.

"Did you just quote Empire Strikes Back at me?" He grinned. "Have I turned you into a nerd at last?"

Laughing, she tugged his shirt over his head, making his hair crackle with static. With one hand, she tucked the loose strands away from his face and rested the other on his chest, feeling with pleasure the thundering of his heart under her palm. He may tease and taunt, but he was getting impatient as well. Catching her hand, he placed a kiss on her palm and trailed his lips up her arm, to her shoulder, her throat, over her breasts, the heat from his breath seeping through her skin.

Then their faces were level again, and the heat wasn't just over her skin, but inside her, gradually filling her, warming her to her very core, until she started panting again like she was on fire. Her legs instinctively found purchase around his waist, and as his pace grew faster, wilder, she clung to him, thighs pressing into the lean hollows of his hips, fingertips sunk into his back in a desperate attempt to slow him down, to make this last as long as they could.

As always, he understood without her having to say anything. His movements became lingering, almost dreamy, while the air between them became heavier, throbbing with a pressure that grew and grew. She buried her face in his shoulder to muffle the moans that escaped her, but his hands found their way to cradle her cheeks and ease her head back on the pillow again.

"Let me look at you," he said between heavy, heaving breaths. "I want to look at you."

She looked into his eyes, so dark they appeared almost black, shining in the dimness of the room, and it was the expression in them, vulnerable and tender and trusting, that finally sent the pressure exploding through her in waves after pulsing waves, turning their bodies into a sea of trembling nerves that washed around and over each other, drowning them both.

Afterward, they didn't sleep. They stayed awake, talked, made love, talked some more, made love again. At some point, though, they must have drifted off, because Chrissy remembered waking up with Eddie's arms around her, holding her to his chest. The window was a square of gray punctuated by the sharp lines of the blinds. Gently, she extracted herself from his arms and slipped out from the warm nest of blankets and bodies into the cold. It was late, but it was New Year's Day, and the entire town was still wrapped in a stupor of champagne and fireworks and half-forgotten resolutions, so it felt like just another early morning, another normal sleepover. Almost. Even the kiss she dropped on his lips was normal, not prolonged or teary. Eddie stirred sleepily but didn't wake. Chrissy wondered if he was pretending to be asleep, to make the parting easier.

She never found out. She just left, quietly closing the door behind her, without looking back. No goodbye.

Epilogue

I originally had this in just 2 chapters, but that made the 2nd chapter a bit too long, and there's a time jump anyway, so there will be a little epilogue after this. Stay tuned! (Or... don't, you know, since it's still not going to have a happy ending.)

#hellcheer #eddissy #hellcheersource #hellcheer fic #hellcheer smut #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn smut

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chilligyu · 3 years

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info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

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hitoshisbabygirl · 3 years

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Author's Notes ♡: hello hello! Welcome to another BNHAREM collab! This theme of office/work au just gave me so many ideas for some other characters I’m excited! Anywhooo I enjoyed writing this fic out a lot and surprised at how long it is actually! I tried to do a bit of progress between the reader and Shinsou but it might seem a bit jumpy, it’s over the course of a few months jump betweeneach scene!I hope you guys enjoy and check out the others fics too!! ~ bunny ❥

Warnings : NSFW! Tying up (only a little?) , pet names! (Kitten slut and princess!) oral (f! receiving) and I think that’s all!

Word count : 5.5k (another big boy!)

Paring(s) : Shinsou Hitoshi x F!reader

Summary : Falling for your boss was a feat in itself, but what happens when he wants you for himself the same way you do?

Enjoy ♡

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Working as a pro heros assistant has its perks and stressors, especially when the one you work for is the spitting image and personality of the one Mr. Shouta Aizawa ; aka Eraserhead. Quiet, tired, sarcastic but a joy to be around when the two of you could be alone , his sarcastic jokes and overall tiredness with whoever bothered him who wasn't his assistant was a fun thing to hear, especially knowing how he is. Becoming his assistant came as an odd thing too, from him saying he sees how much she worked and seeing the work she was capable of was the catalyst for him asking for her name and for her to be moved to be his assistant. And that's how [ ] found herself speed walking her way to her bosses office, tea , a bottle of water and some type of sweet muffin in her one handed tray and his files in another. Trying not to drop anything as she got closer to his door she pushed the door as hard as she could with a healed foot, sighing in relief as she was able to put everything down without incident. Hearing the door creak after she entered [ ] turned around to face her violet haired boss, a lopsided smile on his face as she straightened up “ H-hello Mr.Shinsou I have everything out for your meeting ; There's the food you requested and all of your files and documents about the the next briefing mission!” Smiling at the taller male his own smirk widened as he shut his door and strolled passed her, the smell of cologne and body wash waving over her senses.

“Thank you [ ]. You always take good care of me, '' Hitoshi said as he sat at his desk and started to open up the files, sipping the tea she brought him. Trying not to let that phrase make her skin tingle with pride [ ] started to leave, letting him be him with his work [ ] headed to the door before Hitoshi looked up and saw her leaving “Oh [ ]” he called out as she turned around , crossing her hands over her skirt that rose on her legs ``Y-yes sir?” “You look pretty today, as usual.” and there it was, the usual complimenting that [ ] wasn't used to. The compliments picked up within a few months of [ ] working with Hitoshi, the two starting already with a good work relationship from the beginning to a more comfortable friendship at work balance. For some reason [ ] couldn't help but notice she was the only female around him that he acted like this with, not comments towards her other female employees, he barely spared them a look as he saw them in the halls or gave them a small answer back to their cheery comments. But when he came over to see [ ] it was a different energy, he was more friendly, he talked a bit more about things he enjoyed and even laughed some! [ ] never even noticed the difference until some of the other workers said they were happy she had joined them because she made their boss more relaxed and calm as opposed to tired and snappy. Shaking her thoughts away she noticed Hitoshi was still looking at her, head resting on his hands as he looked her over before looking at the mess of papers under him “You ordered them for me huh? What did i do to deserve such a wonderful assistant.” He said as [ ] felt the praise make her chest swell. “I try sir” , giving her another smile as he sat back in his chair. “I have another meeting this week I'd like you to sit in on. You're smart and can help me with notes on the lesson if you wouldn't mind?” opening a shut eye Hitoshi saw the confusion then joy that ran through [ ]’s eyes “I'd love to Sir! It'd be an honor to sit in and help you!” She said as he gave him a smile he was selfishly enjoying only for him “ Great. And you can call my Hitoshi [ ], no need for honorifics when we’re pretty good friends now hm?” giggling [ ] shook her head “Sure thing Hitoshi '' Ah there it was for him, the sweet sound of his name on her lips. Watching as she bowed and left he couldn't help the raging thoughts running through his head as his meetings for the day proceeded as planned.

The next few days were odd to say the least. After his meetings Hitoshi was more quiet, slipping in and out of his office without interaction or barely a glance at even his closest friends. He didn't tell [ ] what he needed, more of a list he left the night before and gave her small but barely there smiles when she brought them to him or even brought snacks as his days drained on. This was the boss shinsou she heard of , not the hitoshi she was accustomed to. One day as [ ] sat in her room across the way from her said boss she heard a call for her, someone saying that Mr.Shinsou was needing her. Nervous about what he could need from her when he's already in a bad mood she headed up to his office before knocking softly, hearing a grunt ‘Come in’ from the other side. His office was relatively dark, just the natural light coming from the gian window from behind his grand desk. And sitting at his desk was a sight to behold. There he was, long curly purple hair tousled around as his rolled up sleeves of his normal office clothes laid tightly against his forearm, the few top buttons of the dress shirt opened to reveal the hard muscles built up as a pro hero should have. A face of tiredness, irritability and overall done was evident on his features, but as soon as his eyes met [ ]’s they seemed to have life comeback to them “Ah, you got my message” He said, his voice was laced with sleep, if the darker than normal bags under them wasn't even enough. Even with his sounding half asleep [ ] couldn't help the fluttering she felt from hearing him sound more...rough around the edges than usual “Y-yes i did , seem like you're tired sir can i help with anything?” Now having the man turn fully to face her she saw the look in his eyes , an almost mischievous glint in them as he rolled his shoulders ``This might be an odd request but..mind helping me stretch? I've been keeping up with field work and in the office too but with it all I seem to be overworking my body, I'm sore all over and not getting sleep is well….doing its damage” he huffed out a laugh as [ ] tried to hide the shock and excitement of his questioning. Being that close to her boss, a man she's come to not only admire but has caught a bit of a crush on asking her for help? But she thought it over ‘ I'm his assistant , its what im paid for’

Strolling over to him she gently put her hands on his shoulders and pushed, hearing the male under her groan as he laid back into her gestures “Fuck...I knew youd be an amazing masseuse..” he grumbled under his breath as he laid father back, sliding his shoulders deepeer into her hands as [ ] tried not to let herself to be affected with her bosses words “Dont be shy [

], you can push harder on me , I won't break y'know..” Hitoshi joked as she laughed, pressing her nails into his shoulders as a sinful moan was ripped from his throat. Feeling her face heat up [ ] just rubbed the knots from his shoulders, suppressing a squeal as the sound the violet haired man made increased. Rubbing over the back of his neck and shoulders all of the main knots she felt seemed to have worked out. Softly she stepped away from him and called out “I-Im all done sir, unless you need more?” hearing him groan as he stood she was faced with dark eyes looking her over “Those little hands of yours did wonders for me sweetheart, i should have you be my physical therapist too” laughing [ ] pushed his chest and crossed over the side of his desk to the chair that was across from his “Oh please it was nothing but me trying to loosen up your muscles!” crossing his desk as well Hitoshi came behind his assistant, placing his much larger hands on her shoulders ``Well why don't I return the favor, you've been helping me with all this paperwork and now being a masseuse for me...it's the least I can do'' he whispered in her ear as she let out an involuntary whine , feeling his hands tighten with his warm breath hitting her ear. Taking his thumbs Hitoshi did the same, rolling her muscles out of being tight and wound up, but making sure to do more teasing than [ ] expected. Every so often he whispered “Is that okay?” or some type of small praise, making sure to acknowledge . He was drawing it out on purpose, making sure to move closer to her with every push, or have her whimper with a hard roll or pinch of his larger fingers. Just as she had done he pulled away , but not before rubbing up her arms and giving that same lazy smile “Well I hope i was able to compete with your expert massage” Still overwhelmed she just shook her head and agreed , letting their eyes mingle longer before the phone ringing broke the silence. Sighing Hitoshi went back to his seat, picking the line up before answering “Hello this is Mind Jack�� rolling his eyes the man answered, pushing his rolling chair side to side as he was listening to whoever called. [ ] could see how tense he was starting to get, those same shoulders sinking back to their tense state as he continued to drain on with whoever was on the other side “Yeah...the back was the way they seemed to bring in other collateral. Taking a pen from his desk and scrap paper [ ] wrote ‘I can leave and get you some tea if you want it’ and slid it to the violet haired male, his eyes glancing to the paper and back to hers. Snorting he took the pen and replied ‘You're too cute. I'm fine.’ frowning she wrote back ‘But you look stressed again :(‘.

Before she could slide it to him the sound of him yelling shocked her “Well of course there's a problem , no ones keeping a proper tab on him!” Jumping slightly at his hand hitting the wooden desk [ ] covered her squeal, looking up to see the furious eyes of the intimidating man soften before he pointed to her, curling his finger for her to come closer. Hesitantly she did, getting very close before he patted a thigh, shocking the girl. Before she could question him he slid the paper back to her “im sorry :(, mind sitting down with me? Could use a different set of ears for whatever this shit he's telling me...Unless you're uncomfortable, consent is key here and i'm not an opportunist :)’ Smiling at the small note she crossed over his leg to sit in his lap, hesitantly placing her weight down before hearing the older sounding man say something “One second Shin, gotta go get some files and the line was silent. Pushing the speaker and setting the handle down on the holding phone, Hitoshi rubbed at his forehead “This is a pain….I guess the lead we hand on a drug distributor is true but no ones properly following him..I might need to leave the office to follow from higher ground” He spoke up after sensing [ ]’s eyes on his closed ones ``But you should be resting ‘toshi not overworking” [ ] said as she felt his hand wrapping around her waist “God you're too good for me woman, sometimes I wonder how I can keep my composer around such a good girl'' Straightening her back [ ] felt her face heat up , a tingle running though her spine as he continued, getting closer to her ear “Yknow, you're always on edge with me, why is that pretty girl?” Whimpering she felt his hand stroke the mesh of her stockings “Always wearing such cute little outfits...you're like a doll” holding in her breath she gasped when she felt his fingers pinch her thigh “You still didn't answer me [ ]...” Clearing her throat she spoke up “You're just a bit intimidating is all sir..hitoshi” shr admitted as he chuckled , tightening his grasp on her waist “So I intimidate you huh sweetheart?” moving his hand away he just laid back, giving [ ] rome to breathe “You can relax,, I'm used to others ebing a bit scared of me so it's not that big of a surprise.” chuckling, he continued “ You don't have to stay on me , I was just being selfish with you”

Feeling a bit sad at his wording, [ ] turned herself around to look at him, and immediately regretted it. He looked perfect, body sprawled and relaxed on the leather office chair, a similar button up, this time black , was still left open , leaving his neck opened to see. The lazy tired look he always radiates was there, being a sense of calm from him. Since he was in the office he now wore more jewelry , a set of plain titanium bands fit over his fingers. That casually was scrolling his phone. Feeling herself staring too much [ ] cleared her throat and whispered “Well I like you...so I like it up here” And that phrase snapped Hitoshi from his scrolling “What did you just say?” realizing her open thought to herself actually was heard by him she froze, starting to rise from his lap “Ah nothing just-” “[ ], what did you just say to me..” grabbing her arm before she could get far enough she was jerked back to his face. Questioning eyes stared back at the nervous and faltering ones that stared back. “I said I didn't mind being on your lap..” She said as he smirked “But why?” Looking away from his piercing stare she let out a small snort “Well because its kinda comfy” The smirk on his face turned into a grin “That's not what I heard kitten try again” Feeling the heat spread to her face she tried to pull here arm from him only for him to hold it tighter “I..didn't say anything else” clicking his tongue he got closer, putting his nose close others “You said you liked me, or maybe my own thoughts are starting to take over” “What do you mean Hitoshi..?” Flicking his eyes to hear he realized what could happen so taking in a breath he continued “If you don't say it then I will...I like you [ ], the months you've been working for me has been the best time for me...I'M selfish with you..and i want you all to myself..I'm the boss here afterwards, so no ones really gonna question if I decide to make you mines”

Gasping at his confession [ ] tried to hide her face until a hand grabbed her chin “But if I was wrong hearing what you said then..I won't push it” Letting her face and arm go he leaned back in that chair, looking at her. Sucking in her own breath [ ] looked at him and spoke “Yes, I said I liked you, and I do, I've had one since the third week here and now its been months, I enjoy being your assistant, I like being able to make you happy and I...really enjoy being around you..” Meeting his eyes again she saw his smile before he put his phone down “Well with that squared away.. Why don't you come here kitten” By dropping his voice and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt [ ] felt like she'd just opened one of the best and scariest doors she could imagine. That was, until the phone rerung. Side eyeing it Shinsou still held a hand out for her, pulling her swiftly to his lap before answering “Yes Sir?” he started again but this time his hand traveled south, rubbing up and down the back of [ ] as he listened to the man on the other side of the phone. Something he said made the boy grab her waist hard, causing her to let out a sound of discomfort. Hearing that the violet haired male looked at her before whispering a soft “Sorry” and pulling her closer. [ ] saw what he meant ; the senior officer was all over the place, no one knew where anything from the heroes’ agencies were, all the papers, notes and documents on the case seemed misplaced or missing pieces and parts.

Focused on listening to the man on the phone as well, she felt herself start to lay on his shoulder to better hear him, slightly curling up on her boss's lap. Gently a ring clad finger slid under [ ]’s shirt, the cool metal cooling off her burning skin. Still buzzing off his confession she decided to be a bit bold, jutting her hip out so he’d have a hand full of her thigh if he wanted to. Still talking to the man on the line, Shinsou threw her a look, raising a brow before taking the invitation to the now more exposed flesh. “Now Hitoshi-kun I think we could work on a few different ways to trap him, I can send some undercover men to join you in his apprehension, this is our fault for losing him and if we come up with a good enough plan we can begin to execute it!” Humming in agreement Shisou felt himself becoming distracted by his assistant who was whimpering at his ministrations, fingers tightening on his shoulder as she let him rub over her hip, down to her ass and squeezing , before with every touch going lower. “Sure sensei lets..work on some places that we could..potentially set up” feeling the ghosting lips of [ ] on his neck Shinsou slid his hand lower to cup over her cheek , a warning that he'd go lower. Pecking a spot on his neck was the push, the same ring clad fingers going between her skirt and pulling the mesh from her core, causing her to gasp out. Smirking as she got back was a kiss to her temple before he rubbed just his knuckle against her core that was starting to weep. Signing out in content she couldn't help herself, knowing that he still was on the phone with the man fumbling to write up things to fax over she grabbed the sides of his shirt to smash their lips together, a grunt falling from the violet as he groaned, dipping in to kiss her deeper until he heard his name “Hitoshi-kun?” Breathlessly he pulled away from the kiss, seeing [ ] pout as he grinned, stuffing a finger inside of the hole he made and pulled her soiled panties from her lower lips ``Ahem , yeah i'm here sir, sorry just had my assistant bring me some papers and I got distracted” Licking at his lips he continued to talk to the chief while rubbing her little bud casually talking to him as he faxed over details.

An agonizing half an hour later they were done and so was his teasing. As soon as the chief said he'd call later and they hung up [ ] was on him, trying to kiss him as he slipped his fingers out and away from the mess dripping between her legs ``Well well well, the kitten can be bold when it comes to being teased'' Letting out a high pitched whine she when to kiss him again but he moved, going for her neck. “Patience sweetheart, I'm not even gonna do anything.” Pulling her up higher on his lap and cradling her waist his lust filled eyes looked over her heaving chest and wide eyes looking at his “You okay? I didn't mean to scare you with how fast we were moving” Shinsou rasped out at her. Feeling heat creep up her neck she shook her head ``'m fine, great actually. Just very um..needy” Laughing at her words he leaned up to kiss her cheek “Well I hope you know i'm not done with you...I’ll let you finish those papers that were sent over...maybe if you be a good girl I'll give you more hm?” Teasing her Shinsou ran his lips over [ ]’s , the gap keeping them apart almost nonexistent as he licked at her lips , starting another deep kiss. Letting his fingers run over her hips he pulled her tucked shirt out more, unbuttoning the ones closest to him as [ ] did the same, not stripping themselves bare but just enough skin for the two to feel each other.

Letting one hand pull up her skirt and one wrapped around her throat Shinsou could feel the heat radiating from her clothed lower half that was runting over his straining hardon. Slowly he grabbed her hip to stop her rocking. Before pulling away from the kiss, both breathing hard against the other “H-hitoshi...you're a tease” clicking his tongue the male gave her a look “If anything you're the tease kitten, rutting against me like that..and then kissing my neck? Naughty girl you wanted my attention and now that you're getting it you wanna whine about it and beg about it not being enough. I promise i'll give you more kitten, I promise you I will...I really wanted to give you a proper date and be able to show you I don't want you as something quick and damn sure not easy.. but at this rate...I'll end up pounding you on this desk like the little brat you are until you learn how to listen [ ], who knew you'd get bratty if you're not being stuffed and begging for more” Kissing her cheek Shinsou let her sigh and start to semi get dressed to get the papers ``You still could take em on a date though…” She said softly as his eyes watched her smooth and fixed her skirt “That I will do” Laughing [ ] awkwardly tried to pull the stockings she had underneath the tiger to fix the hole he made. Watching her struggle was now Shinsous task as his assistant pulled and tugged, soon hearing another rip as she struggled “Take them off” Blinking, [ ] faced him “H-Huh?” “I said take them off, they'll be off soon anyways” Pointing to the clock he was right ; they only had a bit more left in the office before they'd be going home for the day. “O-Oh yeah..But what about-” “If you're nervous I'll walk you to your car, you don't have to worry about feeling exposed” As i f he was reading her thoughts Shinsou spoke, making [ ] feel her heart rise in her throat “Okay...well uhm thank you sir” feeling even more heat in her chest she left out and did as such, feeling the cool air of the building raised goosebumps on her skin. Sighing, she grabbed the stack of papers on the printer, starting to work on them for her teasing boss.

Sticking to his word Shinsou did walk her to her car, a pleasant conversation falling between the two “Well,” her boss started “It looks like we’ll be up to more faxing tomorrow, I’ll see what we’ll need tonight. Thanks for listening in too, oh and for my massage” Giving [ ] a smile he opened her car door for her and turned to leave before feeling a hand grab his wrist “Wait!” Looking back at her he saw how beautiful she looked ; hair a bit disheveled, shirt and skirt not as neat as it was before their little...break. “Yes [ ]?” she didn't understand it, it was like nothing happened . He was the calm and level headed boss instead of the teasing and fierce lover she had hours ago “Well...nothing, it's nothing” Knowing what she was going to ask he stepped closer, pushing her back against her car. Taking his hands and gently placing them on her hips he pushed himself impossibly closer, just until their lips were over each other “Oh don't worry that wasn't a fluke. I told you kitten, I'm not an opportunist , I wanted you to be comfortable before I even attempted to admit my feelings for you, especially in that way” Giving her a soft peck he pulled away “Goodnight [ ] i'll see you tomorrow yeah?” and with that he started to head for his own car.

The following day [ ] made it a point to dress a bit more risky. Wearing a deep v cut and slit up the thigh black dress that was still acceptable for work with a long sweater she came in early to work on all the filing that would need to be done. Hearing a rep on her door she looked up to see one of the other girls come in “Ouuu look at you, whos the lucky person?” Laughing [ ] continued to order “Ah whatever do you mean?” The girl, Mina, came closer. “All of your outfits are cute or a bit womandly but this, this is a minx in disguise , like you're gonna go on a fancy date but really worried about the desert afterwards if you catch my drift.” Laughing with her best friend [ ] shook her head “I wanted to switch it up, honest!” Giving her a questioning look Mina laughed at herself “We’ll see, I bet Mr.Shinsou will enjoy what you're wearing” Eying her pink haired friend and about to ask why she said that they heard someone else open the office floor door.

“Ah hello sir! Welcome in!” “Good Morning Mina” Oh, OH it was the man of the hour, Shinsou entering the place. As he walked by he too, was out of his usual attire; still ring cladded fingers but a more civilian look going on. Skinny black jeans and a t-shirt help reveal the mass that a pro hero could be. Sure he wasn't a super hulk but he was very well built , long hair pulled into a messy bun. Looking up she saw Mina mouthing the words “He's a hunk” and fanning her face. Waving at her and giggling she heard his office door reopen “Ah Mina, would you mind helping the lower floors until the rest of the team gets in, they seem to have messed up your guys parts. You too [ ]” The both of them looked at the papers that were supposed to come in to them and sure enough ; they had “Yeah i'll go! I know [ ] has more important papers to fill out!” Cheerfully she headed out , leaving the floor empty to her and Shinsou “[ ]” “S-sir?” Glancing up from the papers she saw him leaning over the door frame, eyes studying what he could see of her outfit through her sweater “C’mere..” was all he said as he slinked back into his office. Nervously she left the papers at her desk and headed into his, hearing the soothing jazz in the background “Shut the door too” Pushing the heavy wood until it shut she laid against it, looking at her boss who sat at his desk. “So..how's all the paperwork going?” Nodding her head she let out a soft “Good” before letting the quiet jazz fill the room. Leaning forward and taking a sip from an iced coffee he pointed to the door “You can lock it too” Sucking in a breath [ ] twisted the lock, hearing it click as the room now seemed a bit suffocating. “Whats up sir?” Sighing, Shinsou stood, stretching before he strolled over to her “ Now Kitten..didn't I say we didn't have to do honorifics..” feeling like a deer in headlights she started to move backwards until she hit her back on the door. Smirking he pushed his hand against the frame, trapping her between his arms “R-right...sorry ‘toshi” The smell of the same body wash and cologne took up her air and made her knees feel weak “That's a good girl, now come, sit and i'll show you what we’re gonna be working on” Following shakely behind her boss she saw he was messing with his capture gear behind his desk “Ah the reason i'm dressed so down today is for that very reason; we were gonna go initiate a look around for our guy..trying to see if anyone who works with or knows him is around then i'll take them in for questioning” Nodding her head [ ] fiddled with the weapon , rubbing the fabric “it's so interesting how soft it is” Flicking his wrist the fabric moved to wrap around her wrists and tightened, causing her to gasp “sorry , I couldn't help it” Stepping behind her Shinsou pushed his hips into hers and pulled her up to his chest “toshi...whatre-” “Shhhh, quiet princess..it's time to show you how I can handle you” wrapping his fist around the two straps he used the leverage to keep her tied up before he placed her on his desk. Starting a searing kiss the two of them made out on it, hips pushing into each other as shinsou drew out her sounds. Pulling away heaving the two of them smiled at the other “Fuck..can I?” Rubbing at her colthed slit and starting to bite at her neck, not knowing where to start with her he asked for permission “Y-yes please , please touch me” Smirking against her neck he sucked a few marks before moving lower to her heaving chest to leave more marks. As he got to her thighs he made a show going between them “Shit love...you just had to dress like

a little slut huh..you knew I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you..” biting at the thickest part of her inner thigh, before sucking another mark there.

Pushing her dress higher he sucked in a breath at the sight. She was wearing full laced panties, the pair thin enough to see everything she had to offer. Letting out a low whistle Shinsou kissed against the heat of her pussy, bathing in the moan of his assistant. Pulling off her panties and looking up to the heavy breathing [ ] he winked at her before sucking at her clit. A loud moan ripped from her chest as she tried to widen her legs to give him more room. Enjoying himself by making her cry , Shinsou moaned over her lower lips before sucking harshly at her sensitive bud. As pleasured whining fell and tumbled from [ ]’s lips he pulled away, stuffing a thick finger in her sopping walls. “C’mon love, let loose for me” “T-toshi! Please..” Feeling her mind get hazy with a push of a button in her walls. The coil in her stomach felt tight and rapidly getting tighter before she came, runting her hips against his fingers that continued to pump in her “Good girl..thats my sweet kitten” Overwhelmed by all the simulation [ ] looked up the the dark look of her boss who untied the ends of his capture gear. Pulling at the fabric he laid her over the desk and started to rock his tip against her sopping core. Wrapping a hand around her throat he leaned down to push their faces closer as he started to enter into her slowly. Trying to help ease the stretch Shinsou kissed her hard, shushing her loud sounds as he started to bottom out. Once he did get to bottom out the two of them sighed in content , eyes looking at each other “[ ].....I promise i'll be gentle I can't hold back anymore..you're mine you understand?” He growled out.

Clenching over him [ ] agreed, arching her back into him “Im yours Hitoshi...mark me” And with that he started a brutal pace, holding her hands with one of his own while the other held her thigh open. As the two groaned and moaned against each others lips [ ] felt herself clench hardr as another wave of an oragsm filled her mind. Seeing her tired and fucked out face filling her senses, Shinsou grinds, rubbing a pair of fingers over her clit “I'm such a close kitten.. ‘M gonna fill you up, can I?” Panting out to her he tightened his gear over her wrists as her pleasure teary eyes found his “please..inside Im on the pill its okay!” Feeling a shiver go down his spine he sped his hips up, going to fill her up as he started pumping his cum in her fluttering walls , a weak spasm was her wall's response to his fill. Letting her eyes fall shut [ ] felt shinsou breathing against her neck as her still tied hands reached to rub his back. Feeling him start to kiss her neck [ ] let out a content sigh “Hey..[ ]” he called out as she hummed “Once You recuperate we’ll go for round two...Im nowhere near done with you”

#my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #bnharem collab #shinsou hitoshi x reader lemon #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou smut #bnha smut #f!reader

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itsadamcole · 3 years

Text

arranged - pt.2

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

reader and Drew go to America for reader’s surprises ...

word count: 5.5k+

warnings: prince!drew, just a lil bit angsty, definitely more fluff than part 1, smut :)

— and here’s part 2. enjoy —

part 1 || masterlist || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You and Drew land in Orlando. It's late January, and a huge temperature difference. It feels more like summer in Florida than it does in Scotland, where it's super cold right now.

A smile hasn't left your lips since you took off, and you're excited to see Candice.

Speaking of Candice, she waits by baggage for you. When you see her, you drop Drew's hand and your things before running over to her. You hug her tight and she says, "Okay, okay. Relax, princess. It's nice to see you."

"It's nice to see you too," you say, looking at her. "I haven't seen you since the wedding."

Candice laughs and says, "It wasn't that long ago." She looks at Drew. "Your husband has gotten handsomer since I last saw him."

You giggle and say, "It hasn't been that long, Candice."

She smiles and says, "So, anyway. Come on. The trainers and doctors want to give you a full physical at Full Sail to make sure you're cleared to be in the match this week on NXT."

Smiling, you say, "Sounds great." You look back at Drew. "Ready?"

He nods and says, "Of course."

Candice drives you both to Full Sail University, where NXT is broadcasted from. She asks questions about what married life is like, how Scotland is, and how it's been over there since you married Drew.

It's a short drive to Full Sail from the airport so she doesn't get to many questions in.

During the physical, the doctors and trainers make sure your in tiptop shape to compete. You've lost some muscle mass since you haven't trained in months but it's not that big of a deal. They do the whole work up.

After you've been medically cleared to compete, Hall of Famer Triple H finds you. He says, "Y/N, welcome to Full Sail. We're very happy to have you here as part of our roster in NXT, even though it's for a short amount of time."

You smile and say, "Thank you, Mr. H."

He hands you a black leather folder and says, "Inside, you'll find a part time NXT contract that will have you as part of the NXT roster for six months. Your husband says that after six months, you will no longer be able to compete. As a part timer, you're slotted to be in three matches, one match every two months."

Your eyes widen and you look at Drew before you say, "I thought this was a one match deal."

"I pulled some strings," Drew says before winning at you.

Triple H says, "As of right now, your matches will be against Candice this Wednesday at NXT, a match against an opponent of your choice at Takeover: London in two months, and a match against an opponent of your choice at Takeover: Glasgow in four and a half months."

Your jaw almost hits the floor and you say, "Takeover matches? Like, actual pay-per-view matches."

Everyone in the room laughs and Triple H says, "We wanted to make your last few matches memorable ones. I've spoken with William Regal about this and he's on board. Are you?"

Quickly, you read over the contract and sign it. "I'm on board," you say.

"Welcome to NXT, Y/N," Triple H says, holding out his hand.

You shake his hand and smile. "Thank you for this opportunity," you say.

He smiles and walks off. You look at Drew and he has a huge smile on his face.

"I haven't seen ya so happy about something before," he says.

You smile back at your husband and you say, "I'm living my dream because of you, Drew. Thank you."

Drew says, "I just got us here. Yer talent is the reason yer living yer dream."

"You've never seen me in the ring before," you say, giggling.

Your husband says, "I get t'see ya in the ring on Wednesday."

You smile and shake you head, leaving to go to the hotel to get some sleep so you can train all day tomorrow before Wednesday.

***

Wednesday gets here too quickly. You've brought your old gear with you to wrestle in. It's definitely more revealing than you remember.

You stand in your little dressing room and look in the mirror at yourself.

The shorts got tighter and shorter, and the crop top now tightly hugs your chest. Your cleavage is very exposed and you hope to God that you don't have a wardrobe malfunction while in the ring.

Now that you're the princess of Scotland, you have a lot to be conscious about.

Someone knocks on your door as you're tying up your boots. "It's me," Candice says. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," you say.

The door opens and Candice walks in. She smiles when she sees you in your gear. "Damn, you looked good in the gear then and you look good now," she says. "Anyway, I was thinking. I want to cut a promo before our match tonight. Just a short one. I'll say how a princess shouldn't be in the ring with someone like me and we can go from there."

You nod and finish lacing up your boots. "Sounds good," you say. "I'm assuming that my signing has been a secret?"

Candice nods and says, "Yeah. Drew's being kept out of the crowd until our slot so it doesn't give it away too early that you're here."

Someone calls your name and Candice's name. It's time.

"I've never been so ready to get back in a ring," you say. "Ever since I left, it's been marriage and princess lessons. I'm ready to wrestle again."

Candice smiles as the two of you walk to the backstage area. "You better be," she says.

Several NXT superstars are in the backstage area. The Undisputed Era, Finn Balor, Io Shirai, Timothy Thatcher, Tommaso Ciampa, Rhea Ripley, Johnny Gargano, Indi Hartwell, and Shotzi Blackheart just to name a few.

You stretch out as you wait for your music to hit.

It's been too long since you felt this rush of adrenaline. Before every match and every promo for Ring of Honor, you'd feel a rush of adrenaline to get you pumped up. You last felt this in your last ROH match a few months ago. It's been too damn long.

Candice's music hits and she walks out. You listen to what she says carefully.

"Rumor has it we're in the presence of royalty tonight," Candice says. "Apparently some princess signed with us a few days ago? That's the rumor anyway. I don't think she even deserves to be in an NXT ring."

That's when you're handed a microphone before your music, I Like It Heavy by Halestorm, hits. Of course it's a clean version of the song because this is WWE but it's fine. You're making your entrance for the first time in months.

The crowd loses it as you walk toward the ring in your sparkly red and black gear. You step into the ring.

The music fades out and you're face to face with Candice. She smirks and asks, "Oh, did I hit a nerve, princess?"

You hold your microphone up and say, "I don't deserve to be in an NXT ring?" You scoff. "Please, Candice. I've fought to be here."

Candice says, "You're Scotland's princess. That's the only reason you're here."

These comments are hitting you hard, but you fight through.

"Listen here," you say. "I am a NWA Women's World Champion, a two-time NWA Women's World Tag Team Chanpion, and Impact Knockouts Champion. I deserve to be in this ring for my talent, not by my title."

Candice says, "Then let's go. You're dressed. I'm dressed. Let's get a referee out here."

The crowd cheers and you yell "bring it" into the microphone before throwing it down.

The match begins shortly after. You have Candice in a headlock and you're trying to bring her down onto her knees. She pushes you off of her into the ropes. You bounce off and hit her with a clothesline.

You say, "Oh, look. The princess is the only one still standing."

The crowd laughs and Candice hits the mat before getting up. You're locked in a grapple with her a few seconds later. After a bit of struggling, Candice knees you in the stomach. You cry out and clutch your stomach, falling to your knees. She hits you with a running knee to the jaw, and you sell it well. You fall into your back, knees bent with your feet beneath you.

Candice pulls at your hair to get you up, and the ref warns her of the hair. She says, "Get out of my ring."

You snarl, "Go to hell."

Then you elbow her hard. She backs off you, creating enough space for you to perform a spinning heel kick. She falls but you get her up into your shoulders into a fireman's carry.

You hit the Falcon Arrow on her and go in for the pin.

One. Two. Three. The bell rings and your music blares. The crowd goes insane. You spot Drew in the front row where he would mostly be off camera. He's looking at you in awe as he applauds. You smile as the ref holds your arm up, declaring you the official winner.

***

Days pass by since your match with Candice. It's all you talk about whenever you get the chance. Drew just smiles and listens as you tell him about the rush you felt being back in the ring.

You're driving to your hometown, a little suburb outside of Manhattan. It's been a quiet ride, and that's because Drew is asleep.

Timezones and jet lag have not been your friend during this trip, but it's easier for you to get used to the time change than it is for Drew.

You pull up to your childhood home and tap Drew's shoulder. "Hey, sleeping beauty," you say. "We're here."

He stirs and looks out the window. You smile and he says, "This is yer old house? It's so small."

"I didn't have much," you say. "My parents scrapped together what they could to pay for wrestling school when I was 14 until I was 17. I told myself then that I'd make it in wrestling and I'd pay them back for what they paid for me to go to wrestling school."

Drew looks at you and asks, "Can we go inside?"

You shake your head and say, "It was foreclosed. It belongs to the bank or something. It would be illegal to go in."

Your husband looks back at the house, which has fallen apart with age. It's a one story house. It has one bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and one room that holds the living room, dining room, and kitchen areas.

Drew says, "This while time ya were over here struggling, I was living it up as the prince of Scotland with my rich parents. I used to throw tantrums because they wouldn't get me the newest toy or take me on vacation with them, and your family couldn't afford either."

"We made it through," you say. "My parents live in a beautiful two story house in the nicer part of Manhattan. I paid them back right before I left for Scotland. Every story has a happy ending, Drew."

He smiles a bit and he asks, "Even ours?"

You smile and say, "Especially ours." You lean over the middle console and press a kiss to Drew's cheek. Your lips linger a little too long and he turns his head. You pull back a bit and meet his eyes.

That's when the butterflies flutter in your stomach and your heart races in your chest.

Slowly, both you and Drew lean into each other. Your eyes flicker to the lips you've only kissed twice, once at your wedding and once at a public event right after the wedding.

One of Drew's hands moves and rests on your cheek. You instinctively lean into his soft touch a bit.

Your lips are centimeters away from Drew's. Your noses touch as Drew's other hand moves to cup your other cheek.

"Tell me to stop if ya don't want this," Drew whispers.

You nod a bit and say, "I want this, Drew."

Then his lips brush against yours. A feather light touch. It makes you lean in more because you want more.

Drew guides your lips to his. Your eyes flutter closed as you kiss Drew. Your hands wrap around his wrists as he cups your face.

His facial hair tickles your chin and upper lip as the soft kiss continues.

It's like your first kiss all over again. Your first kiss was at your wedding in front of thousands of people. This one feels different. You never felt butterflies or your heart race when you kissed Drew at your wedding. You do now.

Drew pulls back and looks at you.

"How come ya never kissed me like that at our wedding?" he asks.

You say, "Because I didn't want it then. I wanted it now. I wanted the kiss."

He smiles and pecks your lips one more time before saying, "Show me yer favorite spot."

Giggling, you say, "I can't drive with you holding my face. Hold my hand if you wanna hold something."

Drew smiles and lets your face go. He takes your hand as you drive to your favorite spot.

Your favorite spot, or your safe spot, is a small park. You pull up, and get out.

The sun is setting, and you have a perfect view.

After taking Drew's hand, you walk over to a park bench. You sit down and Drew sits beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulder as you both watch the sunset.

Drew says, "Ya don't have t'stay if ya don't want."

You look at him and ask, "What are you talking about?"

"In Scotland," he says. "Ya don't have t'stay. Being king isn't that important t'me if it means that ya don't get t'keep wrestling. I saw ya in the ring the other day, and it's all ya talk about. Ya love wrestling, and I don't wanna take that away from ya."

You turn so you're facing him as you say, "I'm happy in Scotland. Yeah, it was hard at first. I had to come to terms with possibly never wrestling again, and I did. Until you surprised me with this trip. I love that you did this for me, and for that, I'll help you become king and I'll be the best damn queen Scotland has ever seen." Drew smiles and you throw your legs over one of his legs.

You continue with, "Plus, I may or may not have fallen for you completely so I'm not going anywhere. Til death do us part, remember?"

There's almost a sparkle in Drew's eyes when you tell him that you might have fallen for him.

Your husband smiles and says, "I, uh, might've fallen for ya completely too."

You smile and lean into Drew. You kiss him slowly and softly. He kisses you back, pulling you closer to him.

The kiss is slow and full of passion. Your heart pounds in your chest as your lips move against Drew's.

Drew pulls back again and he says, "Let's find somewhere t'stay tonight. Do ya have a favorite hotel?"

You nod and say, "Yeah, it's in the city. Let's go."

The two of you get up and head to your favorite hotel.

***

The San Carlos Hotel. It's a cute little hotel, and not over the top fancy. You rent out a suite for the next few days, and they tell you that your stay is on the house because you're royalty. Sometimes being a royal has its perks.

The suite is a one bedroom suite. A full bathroom and walk in closet. Plus a living room area with a couch and a flat screen, and a kitchen.

Drew smiles when you unlock the door. You both walk in and you say, "Home sweet home while we tour New York."

He looks at you and say, "I'm glad ya didn't take the out when I offered it, Y/N. I didn't know ya were happy in Scotland. Honestly, I thought ya were miserable."

Giggling, you walk up to Drew and say, "Scotland is a beautiful country. I'm happy to be its princess, and eventually queen."

Your husband says, "Scotland's beauty is nothing compared to yers, Y/N."

Your cheeks heat up and say, "You are one unbelievably cheesy prince, you know that."

He laughs and says, "I take good pride in that. It's a talent."

Laughing, you begin to unpack. Drew disappears into the living room.

Once you've finished unpacking, you walk over to the window. You cross your arms over your chest and look out over the city that never sleeps.

Cars are still on the road and people are milling around on the sidewalks even though the sun has set.

You smile and keep looking out the window, until a pair of arms wraps around your shoulders. You don't have to look to know it's Drew. You lean back into him.

"I'll miss New York," you admit. "The city is always buzzing. It's the city that never sleeps, you know."

Drew presses a kiss to your temple and he says, "Just because we're gonna be king and queen doesn't mean we can't leave the country. We're not locked down in Scotland when we ascend the throne."

You sigh and say, "I know."

The two of you stand like that. You both look out over the city for several minutes.

Drew asks, "So, I did good?"

Nodding, you look up at Drew. "You did more than good," you say. "This has been the best trip of my life, and I'm glad you're here with me."

Your husband says, "I hope we can actually try at the relationship thing. I have a lot to learn still and-"

You lean up, pressing a soft kiss to Drew's lips to cut him off. He's caught off guard by the kiss but he kisses you back.

After a moment, you pull back and say, "We're gonna try at the relationship thing." You smile. "But I know that you know a decent amount about some parts of a relationship."

Drew says, "I know a lot less than ya think I know."

You turn in his arms and ask, "So if I asked you to, I don't know, take off my clothes, you wouldn't know how to do it?"

His face gets flustered as he stammers, "Well, I, uh, I know how to take off clothes, Y/N."

"I would hope so," you say, teasing him.

Drew smiles and says, "Listen, I don't know much about relationships but I know a lot about the physical parts."

You stare up at Drew and say, "Show me what you know."

"Y/N, we just talked about trying the relationship thing," he says, smiling. "I don't think we're ready for the next step."

A smile forms on your lips as you say, "We've already skipped a step or two. What's one more?"

Drew pushes some hair out of your face before he cups your face. He says, "I wanna do this the right way, Y/N."

You look up at Drew and you say, "There is no right way when we're in this situation."

He laughs softly and says, "Yer not wrong."

Leaning your head up, you say, "So show me what you got."

Drew smiles and leans down, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is slow at first, full of passion. You wrap your arms around Drew's waist, holding him close to you.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, asking for access. You part your lips slightly. His tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a soft sigh into the kiss.

Your heart is racing in your chest at the thought of Drew taking off your clothes. You've seen him without a shirt on, but he's always seen you clothed.

While you're busy thinking, Drew's fingers have started working on the zipper of the jacket you're wearing. He pushes the jacket off of you and you pull away from the kiss.

Your eyes meet Drew's and he asks, "Ya really want this?"

Nodding, you say, "I want this." You untuck the shirt he's wearing from his pants.

Drew smiles and picks you up by your waist. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks toward the bed. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck. You take out the hair tie that's keeping his hair in a ponytail.

"I don't want your hair up when we're together," you admit. "I like it down."

Your husband lays you gently on your back on the bed. He looks down at you and says, "Anything for my princess."

You giggle, "So cheesy."

Drew leans down and kisses you. Your fingers slide up into his long locks. One of Drew's hands roams your body over your clothes while you start to unbutton the button up that he's wearing.

Several months ago, you and Drew wouldn't even touch each other. Not even hand-holding. Now, you're underneath him on a bed.

Things have definitely changed for the better over the last few weeks between you and Drew. It feels like euphoria when he kisses you or touches you. You can only imagine how it'll feel when his fingers find their way into your pants or under your shirt.

You're barely able to control yourself as Drew's lips move from yours to your neck. Your eyes flutter closed and you run your fingers through Drew's long locks. His button up now hangs open after you got it unbuttoned.

Drew kisses and nips at the skin on your neck as you push the open button-up off his body. You run your fingers gently up his now bare arms until your hands cup his face. You bring Drew's head up, bringing his face out of your neck. You're breathing a little heavy as you meet Drew's pretty blue eyes.

You lean your head up and press your lips to Drew's hard. One of Drew's hands runs down the side of your body, grazing the side of your breast. You almost shiver with anticipation as Drew's fingers reach the bottom of your t-shirt.

He pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you. You sit up a bit and lift your arms over your head. Drew pulls the t-shirt off of you and discards it somewhere in the room. You're left in just a plain, black bra and pants. You didn't think you'd be doing this or you would have worn a fancier undergarment.

"God," Drew says, eyes wondering over your half naked upper body. Your cheeks get hot as he looks at you underneath him.

He shifts his weight so he's kneeling between your legs. He pulls your hips toward him. You feel the bulge in Drew's pants against your clothed crotch and you gasp slightly. Your husband sits on his heels as he looks at you.

You stare at Drew, waiting anxiously for him to make a move. Your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Drew hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them off your body slowly. They join your shirt on the hotel floor. He leans down and starts to lightly kiss your belly. You giggle and look down at him. His lips trail up your belly until he reaches the bra you're wearing. He undoes the front clasp and the bra falls open, exposing your breasts to Drew. Your breath hitches as he uses a finger and plays with one of your nipples. He kisses the other breast before sucking on that nipple.

You bite back a moan as you slightly arch your back off the mattress. The hand playing with your nipple moves down your body. Drew's fingers slip into the waistband of your panties and you sigh. You lick your bottom lip as his fingers inch closer to their target.

Your husband's eyes flicker up to your face and he watches for your reaction as two of his fingers run through your slick folds. Your eyes flutter closed and you smile, grasping onto the blankets on the bed.

His fingers tease your clit and you say in a whispered tone, "Don't tease." Drew teases your entrance and you let out a quiet moan.

"That was the prettiest things I've ever heard come from ya're mouth," Drew stares.

You get all flustered and say, "It's not nice to be a tease, Drew."

He presses a light kiss to your jaw and mumbles, "Tell me what ya want, princess."

Almost begging him, you say, "I want to feel your fingers inside me. Please."

Gently, Drew starts to pull off your panties. The fabric is thrown to the floor and you pull off the bra. You're completely naked in front of Drew, and you feel comfortable. You trust that Drew won't do anything to hurt you. He's the kind of man to make sure that you're okay with something before he does it.

Drew runs a finger through your soaked folds before he pushes that finger inside of you. You bite your lip to hold back your moans. Drew's hovering above your naked body. His lips are on your neck again, nipping at the skin and definitely leaving marks.

His finger moves in and out of you. You let your lip go and let out the moans you were holding in. Then Drew adds a second finger. You gasp and moan, "Drew."

"Making ya feel good with just my fingers?" Drew mumbles against your neck.

You nod frantically and say, "I love your finger."

He smirks and says, "I can promise ya that they love ya too."

The speed of his fingers quickens and your hips buck off the bed. You moan his name and a few profanities. A knot forms in your stomach.

You're intoxicated with how Drew is making you feel. You love the feeling of Drew's fingers inside of you. His touch makes you feel euphoric and waves of bliss overcome you with every flick of his wrist.

Your walls clench around Drew's fingers and you cry out, "Drew, I'm about to cum!"

The Scotsman's voice drops a tone and he asks, "Ya gonna cum from my fingers, princess? Do I make ya feel that good?"

Nodding, you desperately say, "I need to cum. Please."

"Go ahead, my love," he says.

Your legs begin to shake as you release all over Drew's fingers. More than you ever have for anyone before. Moans pass your lips as well as Drew's name mixed with profanities. Your breathing is labored as you come down from your high. Drew kisses you as you try to catch your breath.

Your lips move feverishly against his for a few moments before Drew gets back on his knees. You sit up with him between your legs and undo the button on his jeans. You look up at him as you push the dark blue fabric off his body. He's left in his boxer shorts as he sits back. You crawl onto his lap, straddling his huge bulge. You run your fingers down Drew's chest and he looks up at you.

"I have t'get something if we're gonna do this, princess," Drew says, pecking your lips. "Unless ya want to start producing heirs t'the throne right now."

You giggle and say, "Let's wait a year before we start doing that."

He smiles and snakes his way out from under you. You sit on the bed and watch as he grabs a little silver package out of the travel bag. He walks back over to you and you move to the edge of the bed.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pull them down. Drew watches you as his erect member pops out of the boxers. His big, and thick. You swallow a bit and look up at Drew.

He's smirking down at you before ripping the tiny package open and sliding the contents on himself. Drew pushes a piece of hair out of your face and says, "Be a good princess. Get on yer back and spread those beautiful legs for me."

You don't say anything, you just do as your told. You scooch yourself back on the bed and lay on your back. You spread your legs a bit as Drew crawls up to you, hovering over you between your legs. The tip of his member runs through your folds and you sigh.

"I've been missing out on a lot," you admit, looking up at Drew.

Your husband lightly kisses you as he says, "I have a lot t'offer."

Smiling against his lips, you say, "I can see that."

Drew props himself up on his arms, hands on either side of your head. You stare up at him before he asks, "Are ya sure ya want this?"

You nod and say, "I've never wanted anything more."

Then he pushes inside you. You gasp at the small amount of pain you feel before it goes away, turning to pleasure. He thrusts slowly into you, moving deeper every few movements. His length starts to fill you little by little. You're a moaning mess beneath Drew, nails raking up and down his back.

When he's fully inside you and you're adjusted, his hips speed up. He starts thrusting harder into you. Grunts leave his lips as moans leave yours. You wrap your legs around his waist so he has better access.

"Oh, fuck," you cry out. "Don't stop, Drew. Oh, faster. Please."

He listens to your wishes and he moves faster. He leans down and brushes his lips against yours. You lean your head up for the kiss and he pulls back slightly. You chase his lips and they barely touch his.

The tip of Drew's member finds your g-spot and you cry out. That's when he knows he's found the target, and he moves faster. His member slams into your g-spot over and over again. You scream out his name mixed with profanities several times as he fucks you into the mattress.

The same knot from earlier forms in your stomach as Drew builds you up to a second orgasm.

Drew's finally kissing you. Your lips move against his breathlessly and your nails dig into his sides. He twitches inside of you and you mumble, "I'm about to cum, baby."

"Me too," Drew says. "Together."

You nod. He moves a few more times before you both cum at the same time. You around him and him into the condom.

Drew kisses you messily as you both ride out your highs. Your hands are on his face as you messily make out with him.

He pulls out of you and pulls back from the kiss. You whine a bit as he ties off the condom, throwing it away. Drew helps you under the comforter before joining you. Drew spoons you from behind with one of his arms draped over you. You hold his hand as you press your back to his chest.

Both your breathing and Drew's breathing have returned to normal. He leaves soft kisses on your shoulder and a smile is on you lips.

"That was amazing," you say. "I really could've had that the entire time instead of fighting with you."

Drew lets out a breathy laugh and says, "I should've just talked to ya about everything sooner. We could'a done that a long time ago."

You giggle and say, "Now that we have done that, I don't know how long I can go before we do that again."

Your husband says, "Whenever ya want, princess. Hell, if ya wanted another go then I wouldn't say no."

Looking back at Drew, you say, "Calm down. You just made me cum twice within several minutes. I need some time."

Drew smiles and says, "Of course. Were ya seriously about that waiting a year before we start trying for a baby?"

"Of course I was," you say, turning and facing Drew. "I would love to have a baby with you, but I want to make sure that it's something we both want. I'm ten year younger than you, Drew. We have some time."

Your husband smiles wide and kisses you. "I am so in love with ya, princess," Drew coos against your lips.

"I'm so in love with you too, Drew," you respond.

Months ago, you hated the thought of marrying Drew just for him to become king. You never even wore your rings behind closed doors. Now, it's changed into something more. An actual relationship where you love Drew and he loves you.

That's all you hoped for when you said 'I do' to the prince of Scotland.

—

tags: @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre x reader #drew x reader #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre fluff #wrestling imagine #wrestling fluff #wrestling smut #wwe imagine #wwe fluff #wwe smut #nswf imagine #imagines #imagine #smut #fluff #fluff imagine #smut imagine

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xxisxxisxxis · 3 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Five [PT. 1]

Part Eighty-Five [PT. 2]

Words: 5.5k

Warning(s): explicit language, explicit sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

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NIKKI

My lawyer looks completely unimpressed with my lack of shoes, shirt, and dignity as he leans back in his chair behind his desk, rubbing his temples.

"It doesn't work like that, Nikki, I'm afraid." He informs me finally, sitting up and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk.

"I was declared dead for two minutes. I died. My wife's technically a widow."

"You can't annul a four year marriage on the basis of 'I died for two minutes.' Some cases of actual death, it can take an act of congress for widow or widower to have an annulment for a marriage where their spouse is no longer alive, legitimately." He explains and I roll my eyes.

"So, what, I just get some divorce papers or something?"

"Unless I declare mental incapacity given that you went through a traumatic series of events within the last twenty-four hours and this could possibly be a very serious lapse in judgement." He argues and I stare at him.

"Stop pulling my dick."

"I'm not 'pulling your dick.' I just don't want you to make this decision and then regret it when your head clears."

I managed to wear him down and by the next morning, he left the papers by Tommy's door after Vince mentioned to me that Viv stayed over there with Tommy and Heather.

When I get home, Karen opens the door and looks at me, wide eyed and confused.

"H-Hey?" She says as I push past her and go to the phone, opting to change my answering machine.

"Hey, it's Nikki." I say. "I'm not here because I'm dead."

Karen just looks at me, astounded, and I go to my room, slamming the door.

I was good and tired and glutton for punishment because I got home that night and loaded up the biggest shot of smack I could muster and pulled the trigger.

I wake up with a sharp pain in the crook of my arm, a needle still in my skin as blood trails my forearm to collect in my palm...Jesus fucking Christ, I've officially lost it.

I take the needle out and force myself up to trudge to the living room to check my messages.

Things like, "You're an asshole," and "that's not funny," tend to be the common theme.

I guess I need to change my answering machine.

I comb through to see if I have anything from Viv.

Now would be a good time to hear her bitch me out for almost making her kill herself--because, lets face it, she's gonna blame it on me, anyway.

Nothing's found, though.

"Fuck, Vivian." I sigh out, sitting on the carpet in the living room, rubbing my forehead as a new message comes on…

"You fucker, you would be the one to fucking OD and die and then get up right after and file for divorce as if she doesn't have enough shit going on, already."

I furrow my brows at the voice.

"Axl the Twat?" I say aloud, confused, as he finishes with, "fuck you, you fucking fuck."

He hangs up and I raise my brows.

Did I die and wake up in a parallel universe? Axl defending Vivian?

Is this hell?

It cuts to the last message.

"Hey, umm...I don't know if you'll get this or not or if…" Vanity. "...I don't know what's going on but I heard something terrible on the radio and I suppose it was true--well, kind of, um…" she sighs. "We're not together anymore and I get that I just hope you're o--"

"Fuck that." I grumble, hitting delete.

I fall back and I look up at myself.

It's fucked that I bought this fucking house for Viv, and she's not even staying in it anymore.

I feel like I promised her so much and haven't given a damn thing to her except reasons to want to throw herself off of balconies.

I look down at my arm, dried blood still on my skin.

I'm fucking tired of this shit.

I let my complete exhaustion of being sick fuel me to dig through everything I own and throw out all of my rigs, any other drugs in my path, and even pour everything to get drunk off of down the sink--even the fucking cooking-wine.

Vivian's somewhere catching the holy spirit, probably, just sensing I'm finally fucking done.

Or she's somewhere in tears over me finally taking the final step to end our relationship.

I feel like it's dead in every way aside from legal.

Whisky's laying by the door, whining when I step over him to go throw the big garbage bag out.

I'd get down there and whine for her, too, but I know this is what needs to be done.

Our entire relationship has just been one giant clusterfuck, and I don't want to put her through the bullshit of having to try to forgive me and trust me, again.

I think I've already stolen enough of her peace of mind.

She'll be happier with Duff, anyway. He's a good guy. A hell of a lot more suited for her than I am.

My hand rubs the back of my neck and I realize I'm still wearing the small crucifix of her's.

I'm tempted not to give it back.

I just sigh and throw the trash out and get back in the house, getting in the shower.

When I get out, I ruffle a towel through my hair, seeing the light blinking on my answering machine.

I go over and try to keep myself from getting too excited at the thought of it being Viv before I hit play on my messages.

"Nikki, it's Doc. I know you feel like horseshit right about now but I need you to come down to the office at 5:00p.m., we're getting you guys together because we need to talk. See you then--preferebly kinda sober and coherent."

Turns out I'll have my ass chewed by Doc before Viv, after all.

I know he came down to the hospital and tore Slash and the guys new ones while I was unconscious.

I'm digging in my garbage for a couple pills to dull down my future shakes that I just know are gonna be coming before sundown.

Despite being not in shape to fucking drive anywhere, I still go because I know if I don't go, Doc will come here and I don't need him here.

It's morbid walking into the office to see Vince, Tommy, and Mick sitting and waiting for me while Doc sits behind his desk.

"Fuck me." I complain out loud, dreading what Doc's about to go on about.

"Sit." Doc tells me and I plop down beside Tommy, sighing, and Doc waits a minute before saying, "I canceled the European tour."

"What?" Vince asks and Mick furrows his brows.

"What the fuck, Doc--"

"--Shut the fuck up and listen." He cuts me off while Tommy nervously shakes his leg. "If you bastards go to Europe, one of you will come back in a body bag. And I'm not gonna be the fucking manager that runs Mötley Crüe into the ground." He states harshly.

"That's a fucking first." I laugh out, meanly, and Doc glares at me. "Guess dead rockstars don't make as much money as alive ones, huh? I coulda told ya that after Razzle--"

"--Nikki." Mick states.

"Where's my wife?" I snap next.

"Oh, the one you so stupidly filed for divorce from without giving me a heads up first? Probably with her friends that haven't put her through the ringer and fucked her over time and time again." He states.

"I didn't know I needed permission to make decisions in my personal life--that have nothing to do with Mötley Crüe."

"Are you two just gonna argue or are we gonna actually talk about why we're here because I have things to do." Vince grumbles.

"Tommy came to me and told me he's thinking about rehab." Doc tells us and I glance at Tommy, who's avoiding looking at anybody. "I'm not taking Mötley Crüe on tour again, in a studio, whatever, until you guys get your act together."

We all look at each other, exhaling, and I rub my lips together.

"Fine." Vince sighs, and Doc looks at Tommy.

He nods.

"Nikki?" Doc asks and I just stare at him.

The guys are gone in a few minutes, leaving just me and Doc and I stand up.

"I wanna see Viv." I tell Doc as he digs through some files, and he looks up and blinks from behind his desk,

"She said she's not seeing you until you get help." Doc states.

"She says that but I bet I could find her tonight and still get her under me in less than three minutes."

"Assuming she's not still under Duff." Doc says and I tense up. "You think I didn't notice how questionably close they got on tour?" He adds.

"She's going through a crisis." I reply.

"Can't imagine why." He mumbles.

"Just tell me where she's at, Doc." I snap.

"You look like shit. You need to go home and get some fuckin' rest because you're all checking in tomorrow afternoon." He adds.

"I'm not going anywhere until I see my wife."

"You mean the wife you filed for divorce from?" He questions and I roll my jaw. "Your wife is resting. You should, too."

1981

I fumble for my key to the apartment, cussing under my breath when I can't get the door opened.

"Motherfucker." I hiss, finally getting it unlocked and shoving it open…

I slam it shut and toss my keys across the room, hearing Tommy and Vince's room door creak open.

Vivian crosses her arms, a scowl on her face, her hair tousled from sleep.

"Could you be any louder?" She snaps, shutting the door behind her, going to the kitchen.

My eyes run up and down her long legs as she heads that way, only in one of Tommy's t-shirts and panties.

Fuck. Me.

I go to grab the bottle of Jack on the counter, taking a sip as she gulps some water down, a droplet escaping the glass as she drinks, rolling down her chin to her neck and I watch it, my burning throat getting dry as I try to pull myself together, my prick starting to push against my pants.

Damnit.

It's like the sane part of myself is trying to slap the hopelessly horny part of me.

She's fucking evil, dude, fuck off, I tell myself.

She's hot.

You hate each other.

I wonder what weird shit she's into in bed.

She's a bitch. You know she's a bitch. Leave her alone.

Oh, I forgot she's supposedly a virgin.

Go to bed, dumbfuck. GO TO BED.

That means I get to watch her experience stuff for the first time.

I end up chuckling, amused at the thought of seeing her pretty eyes roll in her head as pleasure bombards her for the first time.

"What?" She snaps, and I realize I've been staring at her.

I'm about to answer until I get caught up at the sight of her nipples peering through her shirt...fuck me.

"Nikki," she shoves at my shoulder, making me take my eyes off of her chest.

She just scoffs.

"Go touch yourself in the bathroom or something. Jesus." She puts the glass down and walks past me to go back to Tommy's room.

See? Evil.

I ignore the voice of reason and I catch her wrist and stop her, yanking her closer to me.

She looks like a deer in headlights for a minute before I'm grabbing at her hair closest to her neck and pulling her to me, kissing her.

It's a pretty clean kiss, no tongue, no mess, just testing the waters.

She doesn't push me away or beat me up like I always thought she would do, instead, when I pull away for a moment, she takes a breath, wide eyed, before grabbing me by my jacket, pulling me back in.

I'm surprised but I don't let it get in the way, taking lead a little to guide her.

For someone who's never been kissed before (again, allegedly) she's not awful at it like I expected--well, I didn't expect her to be awful because she's never kissed anybody, I expected her to be awful because she's so mean to me.

Her hands push my jacket off my shoulders and I push my tongue past her lips, coaxing a quiet moan from her.

Holy shit.

My hands go to her ass and she grasps at my hair as I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me.

Just to see if we're on a standard starting basis of common interests, I lift one of my hands and bring it back down, not too hard, but hard enough, and she hums, fucking biting my bottom lip and grinding into me a couple times.

I have to keep from creaming my pants just by her moving against me.

You're being stupid, I tell myself, but I can't bring myself to leave her alone now.

She's been the forbidden fruit or whatever for months now and I just gotta have it.

I take her to my room and kick the door shut with my foot, taking her to the shitty mattress on the floor.

I drop her onto it, seeing her in the glow of streetlights.

"Take your shirt off." I say, lowly, and she rubs her lips together and slowly pulls it over her head, her bare chest exposed and my dick's practically throbbing at this point.

I take her crucifix in my hand, and she looks down at it as I lick my lips.

She unfastens it and throws it aside.

I lean down and kiss her again, trailing down her neck, my tongue against her skin and she gasps out a sharp breath, her hands pulling at my shirt.

I take it off and she's sitting up and running her palms over my shoulders, down my chest, and I grasp her around her throat, pushing her back to the mattress and I feel a little shiver go up her spine.

My tongue circles one of her nipples and she lets out bated breaths as I take it between my teeth.

She moans, loudly, and I move my hand to her mouth.

"Shh!" I say. "You're gonna wake them up." I add and she nods.

I do the same to her other breast, with my hand over her mouth, but then I get an idea.

A glorious, completely selfish idea.

I take my hand off of her mouth and smirk before kissing the middle of her chest, one of her top ribs, biting into it, hard, making her scratch at my shoulder while covering her own mouth as a sharp moan is forced from her.

I run my tongue over the bite mark and continue down her stomach, stopping at the top of her panties, glancing at her.

She's still breathing heavy, hands covering her chest, tilting her head to see me.

I run my hand over her clothed core, a little noise coming from her throat, feeling a big wet spot over her cunt.

She lifts her hips and starts pulling them down and I take them and discard them, running my fingertips up the inside of her thigh before I rub my thumb around her clit that's slickened wet.

Her hands jolt to mine between her legs, her back arching, trying her hardest not to be loud.

I tug her to the edge of the mattress, and grab one of her hands, replacing mine with it before I'm looming over her for a moment. "Touch yourself." I tell her, my lips brushing against hers and I can tell she's blushing under the dark of the room. "C'mon, it's hot, just do what feels good." I add, my lips pressing against hers for a moment before I feel her hand move, a delicate gasp coming from her and I pull my lips from hers to watch her face.

Her eyes close, her head tilts back while her other hand tangles in her hair.

I stand up to take my pants off, grabbing at my painfully hard cock when she bucks her hips against her frail fingers.

"Nikki," she says, eyes still shut, head back, and I rub my hands down my face.

We haven't even fucked yet and I can already tell she's gonna make me a fucking idiot.

I get my pants off and run my thumb over my tip and get some precum on it, leaning down and holding it up to her lips.

"Hold your tongue out," I tell her and she opens her eyes and looks at me, before doing as I say.

The pad of my thumb rubs it over her tongue and she lets out a satisfied sigh, looking up at me as I lick her spit off my thumb.

I get back up on my feet for a moment and she gets up and crawls to the foot of the bed, her eyes on my prick, hunger in her eyes…

Nice try, evil bitch, you're not stealing my soul by sucking it through my dick.

I grab her hair and make her look at me.

"Lay down." I tell her and doesn't argue, eyes still ravenous…

I kiss up her kneecap to her thigh, sliding up and up until--

"Oh, fuck!" She whimpers out when my tongue swirls her clit around, getting the first taste of Saint Viv.

My eyes are the ones to roll back, now.

Holy shit.

It's good because she's Satan and needs something to trap you with, that little voice comes back.

Her hands find my hair, her lips find my name and if I don't get ahold of myself, I'll be finding God based on this experience alone.

Apparently she's finding him right now because all she can muster out is, "oh, God."

I find a good rhythm with my tongue, her pussy starting to grind against my face as teasing, little sultry moans flutter through the room.

After a minute I feel her body tense up, and I pat myself on the back as she comes, my tongue lapping at her entrance to get drunk off of her, my hands running over her stomach and thighs.

Vivian claims we just went right into sex without doing anything aside from making out before hand but I distinctly remember going down on her. She must've blacked out once she realized we were about to fool around or something but I remember that happening because it was something I'd dreamed up doing ever since I met her, creepy but honest.

I pry myself from her to grab a rubber behind the head of the mattress, the both of us pulling ourselves up there.

I get it on and turn over, getting on top of her.

She's already hooking her legs around me before I even line myself up with her.

She looks like she's high or drunk, eyes nearly shut, her lip between her teeth, her head tilted slightly, exposing her neck.

I lean down and kiss her neck, her skin damp with sweat and she sighs.

I rub my tip against her opening and she closes her eyes.

I push into her, having to coach myself through because fuck her pussy is tight, and she winces, her mouth opening but nothing coming out. I'm about to ask her if she's alright when she speaks first.

"Take it off." She tells me.

"What?"

"The condom, take it off."

"Are you trying to trap me or something?" I snap at her.

"I wanna feel you." She tells me softly, and I guess it's kinda sweet, or primal, whatever.

I pull out of her and take the condom off, dropping it by the bed before I'm pushing back into her.

We both moan, and I can feel her body stretching to accommodate my entrance, her face showing pain.

I pullout again, but before I can get out completely, she pulls me back in with her legs, letting out a high pitched breath.

More of her juices coat over my cock.

"Fuck, Vivian," I say it, thrusting into her again and she wraps her arms around my back, hugging me to her, and my lips find hers as I push into her again, and again, roughly, the feeling of heaven washing over me each time I go back inside her.

I make her take every inch, forcing myself to fit the last inch and a half despite her body not having room, and she writhes underneath me.

"I think I'm bleeding." She tells me breathlessly and I think she wants me to back off or get off her, but when I go to, she says, "No, keep going, it feels good."

The look on her face is a clear indication that she's into it.

I'm kind of shocked that churchy Vivian is into the same shit I'm into, and I grab her throat, again, and kiss her, our tongues moving together.

"I wanna get on top next." She tells me through moans.

"Why?" I ask.

"I wanna see it." She says and I furrow my brows for a second before I catch on.

I'm rolling off of her and onto my back, my hands running up her thighs and waist when she gets on top of me, and I grab myself as she straddles me, pushing it against her before my hands pull her down onto me.

She screws her eyes shut, as she sinks down to the hilt, her thighs shaking, and I hit her ass cheek as hard as I can and she gets so tight around me I can't pull out until she relaxes.

"You can't do that shit." I tell her harshly, biting back my urge to go ahead and come, and she relaxes a little more as my hands hold at her waist, guiding her movements since she's never done this before.

"Does it feel good?" I ask her, her little moans and whimpers getting me even more hot and bothered.

"Yes," she nods, tipping her head back. "So good."

I look between us, clear view of her pussy taking it, and I sigh.

"It looks good, too." I tell her and she leans down over me, her forehead against my chest as she watches me fuck her for a moment before looking at me, kissing me sloppily, her chest pressing against mine making her sigh when her nipples brush against my skin.

When she pulls away, I'm sticking two fingers in her mouth, taking her by surprise but she starts sucking on them in a second, and I force them down her throat, making her gag, as I start pounding into her, making her nearly shriek out but I gag her with my hand around her throat.

"You're so pretty." I tell her, spit all down her chin from choking on my fingers, eyes nearly shut, my hand around her throat, and I glance down between us, licking my lips. "That pussy's pretty, too." I add and she cries out when my other hand starts rubbing at her clit.

I take my hand from her throat and she gasps for air.

"Nikki, I'm--"

She can't finish.

I roll onto her again, getting on my knees and lift her hips, continuing to hammer into her roughly and her eyes go to the back of her head, as her cum soaks the both of us.

Why the fuck didn't she tell me she can come like that?

I feel myself reaching my own end and go to pull out but she tugs me onto her, kissing me, her legs snaking around me.

At first I don't think she realizes I'm about to blow my kids everywhere, then when I try to pullout, she says, "do it in me, I've heard it feels good."

I look at her like she's crazy because it's something I'd never expect her to say.

"Please, Nikki, let me have it."

I don't have time to argue because I'm finishing with a grunt and a satisfied smile at the sight of tears of pleasure in her eyes before her lids screw shut, her mouth open as a moan leaves her, her body sparking off with shivers.

I let her have it.

"You're a slut." I tell her, thrusting into her a couple more times and she hums at my words.

"Shut up." She says next and I kiss her one last time before rolling off of her.

She pulls the covers over her chest and closes her eyes, tired, and I watch her for a moment.

Okay, she may not be a slut, but I know she's gonna be able to get away with murder and I'm gonna let her because she's fucking Vivian.

I ran myself into my own grave, but heroin and Vivian were major catalysts, but I know I was a catalyst for her own rock bottom, too. We were just too fucking young to know better, I guess. We fell in love and got hooked on playing house without actually stopping to think what all it would look like. Of course, neither of us expected me to be on smack, neither of us expected me to reach the level of stupidity that I reached with Vanity, and neither of us expected her to be conceiving a lovechild while I was next door dying, and I certainly didn't expect to file for divorce first, if at all. I remember that first night together in that shitty apartment got me hooked on her. Not just sex, I actually started listening to what she had to say after that, and wanting to have conversations, and hangout...I fell in love and she made it easy for me to. It was like boiling a frog. Things got worse and worse slowly overtime until BAM! I had Vanity, crack, and junk, and Vivian had Duff and a secret savings account she didn't think our lawyer would get record of. I was pissed, but I knew it was my fault.

All of it was.

I had promised her the world and instead stole everything from her like a life-sucking demon.

She wasn't the evil, manipulative bitch.

I was.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

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o0o-chibaken-o0o · 7 years

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heya:) do you by any chance have any party game fics (idk, truth or dare, fuck marry kill, spin the bottle, never have i ever...) that aren't "starts with a spin" and "right hand red" or "'check this hand 'cause i'm marvellous" because, obviously, those are classics! but i've been craving fics like these and your recs are always AWESOME, so if you have some, that would make my day! ♥♥♥ fucking love your blog btw

DO I KNOW ANY PARTY GAME FICS?? DO I??

(spoiler alert: the answer is fuck yes I have a ton of them, this is one of my all-time favorite tropes!)

Drarry & Party Games Fic Recs

Starts With A Spin by Maxine (120K)- It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there’s almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.You can’t tell me not to include the most quintessential party games fic ever on my party games rec list! Much like Drarry’s relationship, this fic starts with a game of spin the bottle and then develops over a series of fucking amazing funny REALISTIC teenage drinking games. And there’s a real, developed plot too! Oh, and smut. Don’t forget the smut. Perfection!!

Right Hand Red by lumosed_quill (73K)- Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.I challenge you to find one person who has read this fic and not loved it to death. Like Starts With A Spin, there are tons of fun games that bring our boys together, but unlike Starts With A Spin, they are into each other from the beginning and it is a sweet lovely romance and MY FAVORITE THING is Harry teaching Draco to cast a Patronus.

check this hand ‘cause I’m marvelous by lumosed_quill (8K)- Harry’s had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.You know, on my own I probably wouldn’t have thought to include this one for party games because they’re at a bar, but they’re playing DARTS so it TOTALLY FITS and I’m so glad you mentioned it. Draco is a sexy fucking bastard here. Sexy. Fucking. Bastard. Do you like sexy Draco? READ IT.

How to Handle an Enemy by who_la_hoop (7.5K)- Everyone knows that it’s no fun playing truth or dare with a Slytherin. But add a little Veritaserum, a scheming duo of Slytherin girls and surprising things can be revealed. Particularly about the fine line between love and hate…I fucking ADORE this fic!! It (and its equally-amazing-but-lacking-party-games-sequel Turnabout is Fair Play) is one of the hottest things I’ve ever read. The Slytherins play veritaserum Truth or Dare and then– ENTER THEIR SURPRISE PARTY GUEST: THE BOY WHO IS THE OBJECT OF DRACO’S LUST. And there’s WANKING PUBLIC WANKING.

Spin the Wand by WrittenSins (3K)- In the spirit of inter-house unity, the eighth years have a small party. In an attempt to get Harry and Ginny back together, Hermione and Ron come up with the plan of a rigged game of Spin the Wand, but not all goes as planned. Excerpt: “The idea was simple: A game of spin the bottle, but instead of a bottle, a toy wand, and instead of a game of chance, Hermione had spelled the wand to land on whoever the spinner most desired to kiss.”One of those fics where the summary says it all- and you’re probably already reading the fic, not sticking around to hear me babble about how cute it is XD

Silk Scarves and Enchanted Handcuffs by TommyLane (28.5K)- It was only supposed to be for seven minutes and then the blindfold would come off and he’d be free from the dark cupboard and his mystery partner - only Harry was no longer sure he wanted it to end.This fic is brilliant. It’s pretty much just one long party with one long game in which Harry and Draco are blindfolded and shoved into a cupboard together and then subsequently handcuffed. YEAH. And Harry is like “WHO IS THIS HOT PIECE OF ARSE I’M KISSING I WANT TO DO THIS FOREVER” and then he’s like “OH IT WAS MALFOY….STILL WANT TO DO IT FOREVER.” Mhmm. Yep.

Teach Me by lauren3210 (3K) “I’ve decided to help you out,” Draco had said earlier that evening, plonking himself down on the sofa next to Potter.Draco benevolently offers to teach Harry to play poker. And then he not-so-benevolently draws him into a private game of strip poker ;)

One Night at the Leaky by birdsofshore (12.5K)- Harry should have known better than to accept a drunken dare. Especially when Malfoy was sitting right there, looking like that and wearing those bloody tight trousers.What’s better than eighth year truth or dare? ADULT truth or dare. Especially amazing funny lovely adult truth or dare in which Harry tries to win a date with Draco Malfoy

Games Night by @agentmoppet (7K)- Harry has no idea why Hermione decided that an inter-house Games Night would be a good idea, but he’s here now, and he intends to beat Malfoy, no matter what game he chooses. But, who would have thought muggle games could be full of so much… tension?Aaaah Harry and Draco being super competitive playing various muggle games

Trick or Treat by amorette (9.5K)- Harry had no idea that he was such a fetishist - a fact which he discovers on Halloween.This fic has so many good things- Draco loses a bet and has to wear a girl’s uniform to the Halloween party. Harry is distracted and jealous all night. A game of “trick or treat.” And kinky kinky, very hot smut.

The Lovers’ Circle by nicevenn (13.5K)- Tired of feeling alone, Harry agrees to play a matchmaking game with the other eighth years. It’s just a game, after all. What harm could it do?AAAH these tarot cards match up Harry and Draco because they’re compatible af, but they refuse to do the task (THE AMAZING TASK) they are given, so Harry and Draco have to endure a curse! And by curse I mean they’re bonded in an incredibly creative and helpful way. FLUFF and CHRISTMAS

Corruptela Vox by Constant Vigilance (5.5K)- Draco’s kink is revealed. Pretty much a PWP. Parselsmut Parselsmut Parselsmut. With a side of truth or dare, embarrassment, and some fluff.

Never Have I Ever by faithwood (0.5K)- Hogwarts students play the “Never have I ever” game.Can a fic be a classic if it’s only 690 words long? APPARENTLY SO because this is required reading and it’s perfect.

Restraint by @fleetofshippyships (153.5K)- Someone casts the Imperius curse on Draco Malfoy, and whatever the instructions may be, Harry finds himself an unwilling target. The encounter leaves him torn between pleasure and revulsion. As they fight in the aftermath, a tense game begins. Harry fights to convince Malfoy, and himself, that he was not affected by that initial encounter, or any of those following it. Faced with a series of escalating encounters, Harry must come to terms with desiring things he never thought he could, things he wishes he didn’t respond to. They each use signs of arousal as weapons against each other in a mad struggle to finally shame the other into backing down for good. But it’s only after the game is over that Harry starts to understand.So as you can probably guess, there’s quite a bit of angst in this fic, but the development of their relationship reads really realistically, and if you’re into the enemies-to-reluctant-lovers trope (aren’t we all?!) then you will absolutely enjoy this blessedly LONG fic, which features plenty of games to out Harry and Draco to their friends ;) (warning for brief but detailed Harry/George)

Bond, Shag, or Crucio by catsintheattic (5K)- I hope you all realise how asinine this situation is,“ says Draco as he looks down his nose at the assembled party.Just a short little fic in which the Slytherins and Gryffindors join together for a revealing game of the wizard equivalent for fuck, marry, kill ;)

Seven Minutes in the Garden of Wizarding Delights by Zahra (3K)- Draco Malfoy is resolutely heterosexual; Pansy Parkinson will attest to this. So will Queenie Greengrass, Orla Quirke, Eloise Midgen, and if pressed, Blaise Zabini.There is Seven Minutes in Heaven and Draco is in MAJOR denial and his inner monologue is hilarious.

Reigning Champ by LadySlytherin (14K)- If there’s one thing every Slytherin loves, it’s a good game. Too Hot was played at every party Slytherin House had hosted for years, and Draco had won every round since the first time he played. Pride in his title as Champion was to be expected. Stating it like a challenge in front of the returning Eighth-Year Gryffindors? Not Draco’s brightest move, to be sure. Combine the challenge with mistletoe, feminine wiles and secret plots, Ron Weasley’s temper, and an unexpected connection with a Dragonologist and Draco’s Christmas just got a whole lot more complicated!I’ve never seen a game quite like this before- the first person to touch the other during a kiss loses. And Draco thinks he’s so cool and invincible but he’s NOT because when it comes to Harry he just can’t restrain himself! As you may imagine, it features lots of non-HD kisses for game purposes, but also be warned that Draco goes on a date with Charlie. Endgame 100% Drarry though!

Veritaserum Truth or Dare by ElectricBlueLilies (2K)- The returning eighth years bond over a game of Truth or Dare.Short, adorable, easy fluff

You Already Know What’s Next by silverdawn89 (14.5K)- It’s about Truth or Dare, except it’s not really about Truth or Dare at all. Or: there is alcohol and a bunch of twenty-somethings play embarrassing party games.Harry is Draco’s neighbor, and he is very LOUD and ANNOYING until Draco is finally invited to one of his parties and it has to be a prank only it’s not

Lockdown by Vorabiza (35K)- Four Gryffindors and four Slytherins under a forced lockdown in the potions classroom for two days.A lot of Harry being a confident, sexy bastard who’s done everything you could ever think to mention in a game of Never Have I Ever. Also some exhibitionism for good measure :P

#drarry #drarry fic recs #drarry fanfic #party games #truth or dare #never have i ever #fuck marry kill #spin the bottle #seven minutes in heaven #so many good games #20 fics jfc hahaha #rec list #chibarecs #harry potter #draco malfoy #y'all read these #you'll like them #party games are a blessing

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