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#enemies to lovers fanfic
clumsy-jiminie · 2 months
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ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ
 ❝ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ʜᴜʀᴛꜱ ❞
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↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.
↣ rating :: 18+
↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn
↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!oc ft. taehyung
↣ word count :: 3.8k
↣ chapter warnings :: mature language, public displays of affection, angst with resolve, mentions of anxiety, ⚠️ verbal abuse - light but still not ok ⚠️
↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢
if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖
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"yeah, I got issues, and one of them is how bad I need you."
-  ɪꜱꜱᴜᴇꜱ, ᴊᴜʟɪᴀ ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟꜱ -
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It only took a few days before everything returned to normal between the couple. No apology was issued, but they continued as if the argument had never happened. That's how things typically were with the two. Arguments would always fade away without them talking any further about it. It wasn't something Kiara particularly enjoyed, but after trying to talk things out, it would only result in restarting the cycle; she settled for his method instead. It kept them both happy in the end, anyway. At least, that's what she thought. The conversation would always sit with her a bit longer than him. So, while he was normal, touching her and smiling, she had to force herself to keep up the facade. It was tiring but a better outcome than arguing all over again.
Kiara stared at her phone while slowly pushing the shopping cart through the aisle. Her arms rested against the cart's bar, leaning against it comfortably as she looked through the notes on her phone. It was chore day, and chore day also meant grocery shopping day. Usually, she would love to take her time through the store and hopefully find some exciting snacks, but she couldn't wait to get home. She was in the middle of her last piece for her latest collection. The blush pinks, baby blues, and teals were so pretty to her, reminding her of babies and how she wanted a family of her own one day. Three bundles of joy and absolute chaos running around made her excited. She sighed softly, straightening out her spine before feeling gentle resistance. Her brows drew together before she felt slight pressure against her backside.
"Taehyung," she sighed despite the small smile forming on her lips. His hand, placed firmly on her hip, kept her in place as they walked.
"Mm, what?" He responded lazily, eyes fixated on the view of her golden skin peeking out from under her cropped hoodie. The black leggings she wore were no help either. The fabric became so thin when she bent over, stretching to accommodate her round ass. He could almost see the outline of her thong. 
"What are you doing?"
"Appreciating my girlfriend. What did you think?"
"Oh, I don't know...." She stopped suddenly, halting Taehyung as well. His hips pressed into hers, causing him to bite down on his lower lip briefly. "Someone may think you're trying to start something in public." Taehyung hummed as his mind was far from his current reality, somewhere in a realm where public indecency wouldn't get you fined. He returned back to Earth when Kiara decided to turn around and face him. She tilted her head back, looking up at him as she bit back the smirk that desperately wanted to spread on her lips. "You do know we're in public, right?" The sass that fell from her lips only made Taehyung wish to play more. He rested both of his hands on the cart behind her, essentially caging her in.
If there was one thing she could do all day, it was look at Taehyung. He was so gorgeous. Model worthy. Even as he had his round-framed silver glasses resting on his straight nose, she wanted nothing more than his lips on her.
"Nope," he grinned.
"Dangerous."
"You love it." He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, causing her to inhale deeply. Her hands rested on his chest before sliding up to meet behind his neck. Warmth spread through Kiara's system despite them being in the freezer aisle. One of his hands left the cart to rest against her back, pulling her in closer.
"Uh, we're gonna need a clean-up on aisle 14." A familiar voice suddenly rang through Kiara's ears, causing her to pull away from her boyfriend. She glanced around before meeting with the owner of the voice, a smile forming on her lips. "It looks like someone wet themselves," Momo teased the girl with a playful smirk.
"You're so lame!" Hoseok heckled while he reached into the freezer, chuckling softly.
"You knew this, and you're still choosing to marry me," Momo stuck her tongue out at the man, who did the same to her. Afterward, she directed her attention to Kiara. "But seriously, you should really get a room." She placed her hand on her chest as she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "There are children around!"
"Fuck them kids," Taehyung quickly said as he wrapped his arms around Kiara. He leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder. "They gotta learn about the birds and the bees somehow."
"Taehyung, you disgust me," Momo scowled. The man winked at her, and Momo recoiled as if he had reached out to touch her. Hoseok then returned, tossing some frozen fruit pops into the cart.
Kiara's eyebrows furrowed as she scanned over the couple's cart. There were some colorful party plates, cups, hats, and napkins. There were also a few bags of chips and liters of various sodas. "You guys having a party or something?" She asked while resting her hands on Taehyung's arms.
"One of our students is turning eight today!" Hoseok beamed as if it was his child.
"She's the absolute cutest, and she's going to go far. Right, Hobi?" Momo added, gleaming as well.
Hoseok quickly nodded. "Yep, AIM has itself its first prodigy."
Taehyung furrowed his brows as he stood up. "AIM? Is that...."
"Art In Motion! The dance studio we work at!" Momo answered. Taehyung made a small o with his mouth, slowly nodding his head.
"It's not like they don't talk about it all the time," Kiara teased, earning a squeeze from him.
"You guys should come in sometime!" Momo said before walking over to one of the freezers. "We teach duets on some days."
Kiara quickly shook her head. "You know damn well I don't dance."
"I know you don't dance sober," Momo side-eyed her, causing the girl to roll her eyes.
"Yeah, I was about to say; I know a certain dance you do, but it's only when you come back from bottomless mimosas," Taehyung grinned, earning an elbow to his rib. "Don't hurt me because I'm right!" The group laughed together before bidding their farewells. Kiara grabbed the cart once more to continue on their shopping adventure.
"So, Tae...," Kiara drawled as she trailed behind the man. He hummed while looking at an item on the shelves, encouraging her to continue. "I was looking at houses out here, which are really expensive. Do we have to move out this year?"
"Do you want that ring?" He responded as he tossed the item into the cart. Her eyes went wide as her heart sunk into her chest. She assumed that was why she wasn't engaged yet, but to have him say it so casually. To have him say it as if it was something she had to earn. She could hear her best friends yelling at her to leave him, to turn around and not look back.
But she loved him.
"Taehyung!" A man suddenly called out, ripping his attention away from Kiara. Both of them turned to look at the interruption. A smile formed on Taehyung's lips while Kiara's eyes narrowed. Directly ahead of them was none other than Jimin. Kiara huffed, trying to pry her eyes away from the man, but she couldn't for some reason, maybe because it was the first time she'd seen him dressed down—sporting a dark purple hoodie with a denim jacket over it and a pair of black sweatpants that slimmed to a cuff around his ankle. His hair looked messy despite him trying to hide it under his hood—fluffy blonde strands sticking out like he had just rolled out of bed and decided not to style it. How could one look just as good dressed down?
"You stalking me, Jimin?" The brunette teased as he went in to hug the man.
"For fucks sake," Kiara sighed before her eyes went wide. Taehyung shot her a warning glare, making her muscles stiffen as she looked down at the linoleum floor. She was usually good at keeping her thoughts to herself. 
Jimin looked at Kiara for the first time today, and his eyebrows piqued in interest. Was it wrong to be lusting over a man's girlfriend right in front of him, especially when you're trying to rekindle a relationship with said man? Yes, yes it was. He possessed enough self-control not to react physically but couldn't deny that she looked good. She had an impeccable style. Even when she dressed down, she stole the room. Instead, he feigned an eye roll. He wanted to do nothing but push those buttons of hers and watch her eyes be set ablaze with fire. But he wouldn't be able to handle that switch to fondness whenever she eventually looked at Taehyung, at least not today. He peeled his eyes away from the girl to look at the brunette, a warm smile forming on his lips. "Isn't it funny how small the world becomes after bumping into each other once?"
"Oh, it's hilarious," Kiara mumbled quietly this time, sarcasm dripping from her words. Boy, she wasn't making it easy for Jimin. He had a thousand and one remarks for her sassy little quip, but he'll save those for another day. 
The two men proceeded to catch up while Kiara focused on anything besides the blonde before her. Honestly, what were the odds? There are a million different grocery stores on Long Island alone, and this is the one he chooses? It hasn't even been a week since their little dinner encounter. The universe wanted to see some drama in her life as if she didn't have enough. What the universe needed to do was send signs to the tall blockhead so she could get proposed to before selling her soul for a house. 
As much as she loved that Taehyung was reconnecting and making new friends, she didn't want to spend another second in this vicinity. Jimin's aura was sickeningly addictive. He oozed charisma, and it pissed her off that she wanted to have a conversation with him, to be included. She stared at the back of Taehyung's head, eyes sensing daggers in hopes he turned around. Instead, her amber eyes locked with the blonde's. His eyes flickered up and down subtly before a mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of his plump lips. He looked away, assumingly giving Taehyung his full attention once again. Kiara's brows furrowed. What was that look for? Did he think he had a one-up on her?
Enough was enough.
Kiara stepped forward, nudging Taehyung with the cart. He suddenly stopped talking, pausing momentarily before looking at her. "Babe, can we go? I'm getting a little tired." She lied through her teeth, her voice as sweet as candy. She had to pull out all the cards to pull Taehyung away from this so-called friend. What if Jimin was using Taehyung now to get some sick inside scoop on her? She couldn't have that.
"In a minute, I just want to smooth out these details for the next guys night." His voice was colder than the freezer aisle they were just in. He turned back around, fully facing Jimin again. 
She sighed in defeat. She knew Taehyung meant no harm, but each second near Jimin felt like an hour. Kiara had no idea what this man was capable of, and that devilish, slick tongue only made things worse. She quickly glanced away, hoping to find anything she could fiddle with as a minor distraction. Touching random food items seemed too obvious, so she opted for her cell phone. She pulled it out, sending a quick text to the group chat.
Kiara: guess who just pulled up to your local grocery store Kiara: it's your favorite person kookie Jeongguk: JUSTIN BIEBER??? Jeongguk: drop the address NOW Samira: you're an idiot
Kiara pressed her lips in a line, holding back a smile.
Kiara: no it's the blonde from the coffee shop Kiara: I hate it here Jeongguk: do me a favor and throw your shoe at him Jeongguk: specifically the left one Jeongguk: the right one won't do Samira: I second Samira: why the left one tho Jeongguk: so he'll be surprised when I get him with this right hook
Kiara burst into a quiet fit of laughter, using her hand to cover her mouth. She loved her best friends dearly. While she giggled, Taehyung's and Jimin's ears perked up like a dog hearing the word walk, although both for different reasons. 
Taehyung couldn't help but glance at his partner, seeing a wide grin on her lips as her fingers typed away on her phone. Something flared up inside of him, triggering him. It was the same feeling he had from the other night. He couldn't run away this time, so he had to sit with the heavy feeling in his chest and tensed muscles.
Jimin also looked, but he felt something in his chest from the sight. Something warm. Something that made him want to spread his lips and mimic that smile. He couldn't put his finger on it and didn't think he wanted to. He couldn't have that. It felt familiar, and familiarity needed to stay in a locked box in the deepest corner of his mind. Despite it, his eyes twinkled as a mischievous smirk played on his lips. He returned his gaze to Taehyung. "You know, one of my friends is having a game night later in the week. You should definitely come through."
Taehyung's met his eyes, and he pushed down whatever feeling was bubbling in his chest as he smiled at the man. "Definitely! That sounds like fun!"
Kiara was too busy giggling at the messages she received to pay attention to the plans that were made aloud. It wasn't until she felt eyes on her. It made her uneasy, a chill running down her spine as she looked up. Jimin's evil eyes met hers.
"You should bring Kiara along too," Jimin suggested while his eyes remained glued to the girl.
Kiara glared at the blonde. "I would rather jump off the Manhattan Bridge."
Taehyung's eyes went wide, shooting her a look. That look. Kiara couldn't help but cringe, feeling herself shrink into her shoes as she looked down at the ground.
"She'd love to come," Taehyung responded, returning his gaze to Jimin. "We'll be there."
Kiara's head shot up, sending daggers into the back of Taehyung's head. If looks could kill, both men would be casualties right now.
Jimin grinned at the other. "Great! I'll see you then!"
As they bid their farewells, Kiara subtly flipped the blonde off. All Jimin did was smirk playfully, winking at her in response. The girl shivered with disgust. 
After he left, the couple was silent for the rest of their trip. Kiara couldn't understand why Taehyung would think she would want to attend any event with Jimin. She ranted to the man about their horrible first impression and how he ruined her favorite hoodie. Kiara didn't want to fake nice for hours on end; one, it was draining as hell, and two, that prick didn't deserve it. They paid and exited the grocery store. A cloak of silence wrapped around them dropped once they approached Kiara's car. She huffed quietly, almost shaking her head out of pure disbelief. 
"I thought you couldn't stand him," she grumbled.
"I thought you wanted me to make more friends," he countered.
Kiara rolled her eyes, sighing softly as she regretted giving him that push. "I don't want to go to this thing, Tae," she admitted. "I don't even know why he invited me. He's your friend."
"Why can't he be our friend?" He asked while looking at the girl, meeting her eyes.
"I'm not friends with people who don't like me," she deadpanned. She started packing the groceries into the car, exceptionally cautiously placing the bags. She would hate if something got smushed or broken because she grew annoyed.
Taehyung watched as she did so, arms folding over his chest as he leaned against the car. "You don't know that."
"I'm pretty sure you don't call the people you like selfish."
Taehyung shrugged casually, "You got off on the wrong foot, so what? You don't think you could push past that or at least pretend to for me?"
Kiara froze briefly, pressing her lips together as she thought. It's for Taehyung. She would suffer a ten-hour flight full of crying babies for this man, but Jimin was just slightly more insufferable than that. She stopped loading the groceries to look at him. As she opened her mouth to answer, a text notification emitted from her pocket. She wasn't going to look at it, already knowing who it was, but she watched as Taehyung's demeanor changed. The corners of his lips pulled into a frown. He tensed as his eyes narrowed into slits. Before she could even process what was happening, he opened his mouth. All at once, he remembered why he fell silent earlier.
"Give me your phone."
"What?" She chuckled, completely bewildered. He had to be joking. Just two seconds ago, he asked her to play nice, and now this?
"I'm not gonna repeat myself." He held his large hand towards her, like a parent demanding something of their child.
She chuckled again, this time wholly filled with nerves. She instinctively gripped her phone in her hoodie pocket to protect him from the device. "Are you kidding? I'm not giving you my phone."
His eyes narrowed at the shorter girl, letting his hand fall back to his side. "Why? You got something to hide?" Kiara shook her head, opening her mouth to say something, but was promptly cut off. "I saw the way you were smiling at your phone earlier. You got some nasty shit from Jeongguk, huh?"
"What?" Her eyes widen for a moment before narrowing at her partner. "What the fuck are you on about?" Kiara tried keeping herself calm, paying close attention to the tone of her voice, but she thought the days when she had to defend the relationship with her best friend were over.
"Give me your fucking phone, Kiara!" He yelled. The bass in his voice startled her, depth moving straight to her heart and increasing the beat suddenly. She jerked as if someone hit her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as her breathing quickened. It happened all in an instant. She pulled out her phone and handed it to him without a thought. It was like her body was suddenly on autopilot.
He snatched the device from her, unlocking it without an issue. "I swear to god I do so much for you, for this fucking relationship, just for you to go behind my back and—" As he went through the text history with Jeongguk, all he saw was various memes from inside jokes, opinions of art going back and forth, and the occasional double text. Taehyung's jaw hung loosely briefly before quickly biting his lower lip. He even checked their group chat, but there was nothing besides Samira asking for help with Momo's wedding and the conversation he assumed she was laughing about. No, he couldn't be wrong. He knew what he saw. That smile.... There's no way he could've been wrong. There had to be something, anything, to prove her infidelity. 
But there was nothing.
Taehyung locked Kiara's phone as the silence sat on them like a bag of bricks. He slowly looked at the girl, seeing tears brimming in her warm eyes of amber. Shit, he thought to himself. She was shivering, and he was sure it wasn't from the cold weather. Her chest was heaving like she just finished running a marathon.
"Ki...," his voice softened, barely above a whisper.
"No," she whimpered right before her throat decided to shut. Tears fell from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. She turned from him, loading up the rest of the car with haste. She tried not to make a sound apart from the occasional whimper that slipped past her trembling lips. 
Taehyung sighed quietly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watched her. "Kiara, please...," he pleaded as she stood upright. She ignored him, walking the cart back to its slot. When she returned, she had all intention of heading straight to the driver's side, but Taehyung's hand wrapping around her wrist stopped her.
She sniffled as she turned to face him. Kiara yanked her wrist from his hand, causing him to sigh. "When is this gonna stop?" She asked as she wiped her wet face with the sleeves of her hoodie. "When will you finally trust me enough to know I wouldn't ever step out on you?" Taehyung pressed his lips together, staring down at the girl. "I fucking love you, Tae, with every fiber of my being. I've loved you for years! But...," the girl trailed off, looking up at the night sky. She couldn't stop the tears, no matter how much she wanted to. Just thinking of the words hurt her.
Taehyung reached for her again, pulling her into his chest. He held her tightly in an embrace while she sobbed into his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered as his hands rubbed her back soothingly. Kiara's cries slowed to a stop. "I'm so sorry. I..., I just get jealous sometimes. I think you'll leave me because I've never seen a bond like you and JK's. I feel like he's in love with you."
"He's my best friend," she mumbled before pulling away from the man. She wiped her nose as she stared down at the ground. "He does love me, but not in the way you love me." She rubbed her eyes once more before looking up at him. The whites of her eyes were now red. Taehyung couldn't help but frown, using his thumb to wipe the remaining tears. She flinched from his touch, looking away from him. "But that isn't an excuse to treat me like that." She took a step back from him. Her warmth left him with the winter cold. "So this jealousy stuff has to stop now."
Taehyung nodded his head quickly. "I'm sorry, I'll try harder." He reached out for her again, and she didn't pull away. He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb while Kiara inhaled deeply, leaning into his touch. "I will be better."
She let out a shaky breath before throwing herself into the man. She pressed her face into his chest, feeling the vibrations from his body as he chuckled. "So, about that game night...." She hummed, waiting for him to continue. "Will you try for me?"
She pulled away enough to look up at him, her warm eyes making his heart skip a beat. "I'll try."
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30 notes · View notes
lesbianshepard · 7 months
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while frustrating, the funniest response to historical erasure of same sex couples is people wildly overcorrecting and assuming any interaction between two men in history was a secret homosexual relationship covered up by Big Historian. i saw someone on r/sapphoandherfriend sincerely ask if Thomas Jefferson and John Adams were lovers.
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yeonzzzn · 2 months
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say my name: sunghoon
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pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 6.9k
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synopsis: you never liked sunghoon. matter of fact, you hate him. he annoys you and makes your blood boil. what makes it worse is he’s your neighbor, attends the same college as you, and even worked his way into your friend group. you refuse to say his name, but he has plans to make you scream it.
genre: neighbors!au, enemies to lovers, smut.
warnings: swearing, reader has an attitude problem, mutual masturbation, using readers spit to jerk off, fingering, cum eating, unprotective sex, doggie, hair pulling, lmk if I missed anything!
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You gripped the bedsheets, knuckles turning white and mouth going slack as moans escaped your lips. One of his hands left your hips and moved to your head, pushing your long hair from your face before connecting it to the side of your face, pressing you further into the sheets, another moan leaving your mouth. 
He chuckled, “Yeah? You like that huh?” his hand at your hip squeezed and shoved you further onto him, using more force into his other hand to press your face harder into the sheets, “Such a dirty fucking girl.” 
You exhaled out, “I fucking hate you,” but had the biggest smirk on your lips as he used every force possible to fuck into you. 
Sunghoon smirked at the look on your face, “No you don’t,” he cooed, his hand on your face moving to the top of your head, grasping a fistful of your hair and yanking, pulling you up and connecting your back to his chest, “Say my name,” he growled into your ear, letting go of your hair and snaking his hand down to your heat, middle finger circling your clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts, “Say. My. Name.” 
Your head spun as you thought back on how you ended up in this situation with his cock so deep inside you. 
You hated him the moment he moved in next door. You hoped whoever your neighbor would be that they would be better than the last one. The last neighbor you shared a wall with was loud, always yelling at something, banging on the walls, watching TV way too loud, and for whatever reason would leave their apartment door open to “get fresh air,” when in reality you thought it was to shove whatever terrible smell they had inside out. 
You were so thankful when you saw your new neighbor was your age. He was handsome, looked smart, was quiet, seemed clean and his best friends were hot. 
But you learned soon enough that he was a prick and your hate for him started. 
Your first interaction with him was asking if he could turn his music down because it was three in the morning and you had work that following morning. 
He opened the door wide, wearing nothing but his tight blue boxers that clearly showed his boner. His hair was a mess, and the giggles of two females could be heard from his bedroom. You tried to drown out their giggles and keep your eyes on his, terribly failing and staring down at his chest, abs…his cock. 
He smirked, leaning closer to you, “Like what you see? Want to join us?” Anger filled you instantly. Who the fuck did this prick this he was? He barely moved in a few days ago, has TWO other females in his apartment, and is hitting on you when he doesn’t know you?
You snarled, “Just turn the damn music down!” 
He, in fact, did not turn the music down but turned it up. 
The rest of that week was hell. Music, alcohol, other females, and his friends flew in and out of that apartment, making you sleep less and less every day. 
When classes started back up that following week, to your dismay, you walked into your microbiology class to see him sitting in the corner of the classroom. His hands shoved into his black hoodie, eyes locking onto yours. He smirked, leaning forward into his chair, resting his elbows on the table, and giving you a wink. 
If you could drop this class and take it another semester you would. But you were so close to being done with your prerequisites for your major that there was no point in dropping it. Plus you wouldn’t let your prick of a neighbor ruin this for you. 
Except he made class hell too. Tossing notes your way, giving you winks, and biting his lips. Always having a comeback to your answer when the professor would ask questions.
You discovered through the class that his name was Park Sunghoon, and the moment you knew his name was the moment you vowed to never say it. To not let that tainted name leave your lips. 
Sunghoon only did more to piss you off as time went on. Walking around outside the apartment practically naked, running his hands over his body, and winking at you. Always teasing you at college by how you “wanted” him. 
What made things worse, he somehow befriended your best friend. Yunjin invited you to a party one night and you gladly accepted it, wanting one night away from the apartment building and away from Sunghoon. 
You walked into the party, expecting to be embraced by your best friend, but instead saw the door being opened by Jake, one of Sunghoon’s hot best friends. 
“Oh shit! Hey YN!” his Aussie accent blurted out, “You’re friends with Yunjin too?” 
Too?
You peered into her house, seeing Sunghoon’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, red solo cups in their hands as they laughed together with not only your friends but also his. 
Yunjin’s eyes widen in excitement at seeing Jake lead you into her house, “YNNIE!!!” 
She released herself from Sunghoon and embraced you quickly, “I have some people I want you to meet!” 
She introduced you to Sunghoon and his friends, the awkward smile on Sunghoon’s face showed that he had zero clue you were best friends with Yunjin. 
“No shit!” Jay exclaimed, “You’re best friends with YN?! Sunghoon is her neighbor!” 
Yunjin, mostly in her drunken state, was more excited than she should be, “OH EM GEEE!!” she clapped her hands, “We can be one big happy friend group!”
You found out from Yunjin that she and Sunghoon have a few classes together and even already hung out a few times around campus with his friends when you were busy. 
You wanted to break up the friendship but felt way too guilty and didn’t want to be that person to break away a friendship. 
So you sucked it up. 
For months you tried to act normal, but Sunghoon’s flirting and his teasing only got worse. Making you hate him even more. Oh, but it fueled him to continue. 
Even after almost a year, you refused to call him by name, referring to him as stupid, idiot, idiot penguin(after finding out he was a figure skater), and simply just a prick. 
You twirl your pencil between your fingers, listening to Heeseung and Yunjin talk about the League of Legends match they had last night. Jake cutting into the conversation. 
“Yeah yeah nerds, I have something to say.” 
Sunghoon glanced up at his best friend from his homework, “What could be more important than their league match?” 
“What the idiot penguin said,” you chimed in, eyes going back down to your homework. 
“Are we still going with the idiot penguin?” Sunghoon scoffed, “It’s been a year, YN,” he rolled his eyes, “I have a name.”
You shrugged, standing by your statement of never saying his name. 
Your friend group soon figured out whatever enemies thing you two had going on but never addressed it, hoping you two would figure it out on your own. 
“Anyways,” Jay said, “What is important?” 
Jake smiled, “Let’s go to the next city over and party.” 
Chaewon’s eyes lit up, “You know, why not?” 
Yunjin even seemed interested. 
Your little small town had bars and one shitty club. Neither was worth walking into. Going the next city over for a night out didn’t seem like a bad idea until…
“We can get a hotel!” Yunjin said, “That way we don’t have to rush back home and can actually get drunk.” 
You were on board until the hotel was brought up, “No. Absolutely not.” 
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at you, knowing perfectly well why you didn’t want to, “Get over it, you’re going. All of us are.” 
You protested the whole week against going, yet you found yourself in the very backseat of Chaewon’s car sitting right next to Sunghoon. 
You rolled your head back onto the headrest, crossing your arms with a groan, “Can someone PLEASE switch seats with me?” 
“NO!” everyone else shouted. Sunghoon just sitting in silence, his arms also crossed, eyes locked onto whatever could be so interesting outside the car. 
You’ve only been in the car for an hour and a half, yet it was killing you already. 
“You really need to get over whatever hate you have for him,” Yunjin said earlier in the day as she shoved her duffle bag into the trunk, “I don’t understand it, everyone else is fine with each other besides you two.” 
You crossed your arms, “He’s just a prick. Has been since I’ve met him.” 
Yunjin rolled her eyes, “You aren’t even sure if he even did have a threesome with those girls.” 
She wasn’t…wrong. But by the way, his dick was hard in those…tight boxers, there’s no way he didn’t fuck them both. 
“Idiot penguin didn’t really do a good job of defending himself if he wasn’t, plus he asked ME to join them.” 
Yunjin just sighed, “He hates when you call him that, he actually wants to be friends with you, ya know. We are all friends, you live right next door to each other, just try to get along tonight, okay?” 
Yet here you were in the backseat with him wanting nothing more than to jump out of the window and let every car hit you. 
The sun started to set, and everyone one by one (except Chaewon and Jay who were driving and the passenger) fell asleep. 
A small bump in the road was enough to wake you from your sleep. You yawned and then the pain of the way your body was twisted into the seat kicked in. 
With a soft groan, you shifted yourself up, eyes wandering down your legs seeing them draped over Sunghoon’s lap. 
His eyes were wide and lips tucked between his eyes as he stared down at your legs. You shifted in your seat, ready to yell at him and pull your legs back but when your foot grazed over his crotch, you were in more shock than he was when realizing you were awake, head snapping to you so fast. 
“YN…” he whispers, eyes darting to the front of the car then back to you, “It’s not—“
“Then what is it you prick?!” you whisper back. He had a fucking hard-on?! What the hell was he thinking and doing with your legs?!
Sunghoon quickly placed his hand over his hard cock, trying to conceal it as if it would help make the situation better. 
It didn’t. 
“And now you’re touching yourself?!” you whispered in a snap, “You’re such a pervert you prick!” 
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “Will you shut the fuck up and listen for a second, ya?” you thinned your lips in a line, waiting. “You at some point in your sleep shoved your legs into my lap. It woke me up and I was so close to shoving you off me, but you looked peaceful and Jay made me promise to not start shit with you.” Ahhh so they all were in on trying to get you two to play nice, “So I left you alone, but you started shifting around and…” 
And he got a fucking boner just from your legs. 
“You have a leg fetish or something?” you raise a brow at him. 
Only for your legs. 
Sunghoon shook his head, “You’re fucking crazy.” 
But maybe he was the crazy one. Ever since he’s met you, he’s wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of you. To fuck all that hate you have for him out. To turn that scrunched face full of anger every time you look at him into a relaxed sexual face with you moaning out his name. 
He’s never once heard you call him by name. Even when he’s texted you about stuff about hanging out with everyone or for class or homework or literally anything about the apartment you always call him some wack ass name. 
Sunghoon has it as his goal to get you to say his name. Whether that’s by him fucking you into the next year, or gaslighting you into saying it somehow. He preferred option one. 
He found you so ridiculously sexy. Your attitude always got him going and he couldn’t explain why. Maybe it’s because he wanted to fuck that attitude out, maybe it’s because over the year of knowing you, he’s grown a little crush. Loving the way your eyes light up when a strawberry alcoholic beverage of any kind is placed in front of you. Loving how you smile when you see animals and how you dance around with Yunjin in her living room. 
He found it so sexy how you give back every ounce of bullshit he threw at you. So sexy when you wear your tight sweatpants that shape your ass do fine. Finding the small mole above your naval so cute and attractive, mostly when you wear tight crop tops or shorter shirts that lift when you stretch showing off your tummy. 
Sunghoon was so down bad for you in many ways that even he wasn’t able to understand it. 
He hated you to a degree, but only in a way to keep himself from feeling things he shouldn’t for you. 
“I’m crazy?” you burned holes into his eyes when he nodded, “Says the one who got a boner over my legs.” 
Sunghoon couldn’t hold it back anymore, slowly palming his cock, “Yeah? And what about it? Your legs are so fucking sexy.” Sunghoon loved your legs and wanted to rub his hands up and down them. Wanted to squeeze the plush of your thighs. Wanted them to straddle him. 
You could see it in his eyes, the way his pupils were starting to look blown out and filled with so much lust. He’s never looked at you like that before. 
It made your cheeks flush and made you speechless. Your eyes wandered away from his and down to the hand palming himself, watching as his hips slowly shifted up with each stroke of his palm. 
It sent heat down your body and pooled between your legs. You hated him, so why was watching him stroke himself so hot to you? Making you want to continue watching him. 
“Oh, you so want me,” he whispered, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly sliding his hand down his sweatpants and boxers, letting out a soft grunt and he flung his head back into the headrest, keeping his eyes locked with yours. 
You watched how the moonlight and street lamps shined on him as he fucked up into his fist slowly. 
“Prick,” you whispered back at him, closing your thighs together in hopes of concealing the rising heat between them. But Sunghoon notices everything. 
“You’re so wet, aren’t you? All just from watching me? So dirty.” He was making your blood boil. But the slick between your legs was worse than your anger at the moment, and you knew that he could see it too. 
“Shut up,” you closed your legs tighter, trying to fight yourself from looking at him, from looking at how his hand moves under his sweatpants. 
“Touch yourself.” 
Your eyes widened, “Excuse you?!” 
“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped, making you realize you said that a bit too loud, with a groan he repeated himself, “I said touch yourself.” 
You snarl at him, opening your mouth to fight back but ultimately stopping when he pulls his hand from his pants and lifts his hips to slide them down to his thighs. 
He looked back at you as he wrapped his hand back around himself, a smirk raising, “Close your mouth, you might start drooling, YN.” 
You didn’t realize how wide you let your jaw drop at his size…he was huge. Maybe that day you told him to turn his music down, his cock showing wasn’t because of how tight his boxers were…
You closed your mouth, sliding your back into the seat and slouching down, running your thighs even more together. 
Sunghoon was loving the way you were looking at him. Loved how you kept darting your eyes back and forth between his face and cock. Oh, the way he’ll tease you about this until his last breath. 
He leaned towards you a bit, rubbing his thumb over the tip to spread his precum, “Touch yourself, YN.” 
Your heart was racing, your body on fire. You wanted to. So bad. But didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. 
Sunghoon let a small moan leave his lips, and you were done for. 
You slid your hand down your shorts, your fingers working their way to spread your slick around your clit. 
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowing, “Keep going.” 
You stared down at his cock, watching how he bucked his hips in movement with his hand, seeing how his precum leaked from the tip. 
But then he released himself, reaching over and stopping his hand below your mouth, “Spit.” 
You didn’t hesitate, dripping your saliva into a small pool in his hand. Sunghoon could have came just by the eye contact you gave him as you gave him your spit. Like holy fucking shit it was hot. 
Sunghoon spreads your saliva over his cock, hitting his head back into the headrest as his hand glides so easily up and down his shaft, “Oh, fuck.” 
You bit your lips and pressed two fingers inside you, letting small and quiet whimpers escape just loud enough for him to hear. 
Sunghoon wanted you to expose yourself as he has to you, reaching his free hand to the hem of your shorts and tugging, “Pull’em down.” 
So you did. Releasing your fingers from your cunt only long enough to push your shorts and panties down to your ankles and pumping your fingers back into you. 
Sunghoon hissed at see you finger fuck yourself. Loving how your hips rolled in time with your fingers. God, he wished it was his fingers inside you. 
He looks up to you, seeing that your eyes were still locked onto his cock. He slouched more down into the seat, giving himself more room to pump himself and give you a better view. 
You bit your lips tighter and pushed your fingers in faster, knowing damn well you were covering the seat in your juices. But you didn’t care at that moment. 
Sunghoon’s hand was on your thigh, spreading your leg more apart, giving you that access to finger fuck yourself faster. 
It was driving him up a wall at how you looked right now. You’ve only ever shown him faces of anger, but right now you’re showing him the faces you make when horny and touching yourself. And oh god he was loving it. 
He wanted you to look at him while touching yourself. He wanted to see the face you’d make when you cum, wanting you to watch him cum. 
“Hey, YN,” he was barely able to whisper, “Eyes on me.” 
You locked eyes with him, chills being sent down your spine at his fucked out expression. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run wild. Is this how he looks when he’s having sex? So out of it and lustful? 
You wondered how he’d fuck you while you straddled him. Would his hips buck up like they are doing into his fist? Would he go faster? Harder? The thoughts were endless as you stared back into his eyes. 
His mouth slightly opened, his lips swollen from how hard he was biting them to keep his moans compressed. He let out small grunts, eyes quickly looking down at how covered your hand was with your wetness, wanting to unbuckle himself and grab you by your thighs until your back was touching the bottom of the seat as he spreads your legs and fucked himself into you. 
The thoughts were enough to send him over the edge, “YN,” he whispered.
“Hmm?”
“I’m fixing to cum.” 
Your body tensed, fingers moving faster, “Cum then,” you whispered back, your thumb now doing circles on your clit as you pumped yourself. 
“M’cumming,” he said with a deep inhale, tucking his lips back between his teeth as he released, his cum leaking out so perfectly and down his hand. 
“Fuck,” you whimper, working your fingers faster. 
Sunghoon slid his boxers up first, wiping his cum on the inside of his boxers due to not having anywhere else to do so, then slid his sweatpants back over his hips. 
He locked his eyes back to yours, seeing how desperate you looked wanting to cum too. He slides his eyes down to your cunt. If it were his hands there…you would have came twice by now. 
You wanted to release terribly, but the angle of your hand and the small of the backseat made it difficult for you to chase out that climax. You tensed as you tried to reach for it, calling for it. 
Your body froze when Sunghoon’s hand grabs yours, pulling your fingers out of your cunt, “Let me help.” 
Usually, you’d protest and yell at him. Call him a prick. Shove him away. But right now you wanted to cum and that priority was above all else. 
He replaced your fingers with his. His long fingers slid into you so gracefully, “Fuck you’re so wet,” he moans softly, angling his hand in the perfect spot as he hit your g-spot. Sunghoon couldn’t believe he was feeling you in his hand, feeling your slick pool in his palm, feeling you clench around his fingers. He was already getting hard again. 
“Feels good baby?” he whispers in your ear and all you do in response is nod. 
Something about his fingers was driving you crazy. The way they hit your g-spot with such ease, the way his thumb brushed against your clit with each movement…
“Say my name,” he says into your ear, pumping his fingers in you faster. 
“No,” you say back, your hand flying to his wrist and squeezing it tightly. 
“Say my name, YN,” he said again, curling his fingers so deep inside you, your climax nearing so fast you didn’t have time to think, “Say my name baby.” 
You opened your mouth, not to say his name, but to moan as you came around his fingers and hand. Sunghoon acted fast enough to press his lips to yours, suppressing your moan from being too loud and letting the others find out what was happening in the back seat. 
You closed your eyes at your release, Sunghoon’s fingers still moving inside you slowly, helping you chase out at high. 
You kissed him back, without so much as a second thought, you kissed him back. 
Maybe you did it as a way to thank him for helping you release, maybe you did it because you wanted to. The lines were blurred and you didn’t know why you let him kiss you. 
His fingers slid out from your cunt as he leaned more into you, his tongue spreading your lips apart and making its way into your mouth twirling the muscle around yours. 
Once you came down from your high, your eyes opened wide, and shoved Sunghoon back to his side of the car. A chuckle left his lips, “Back to hating me?” 
“I never stopped hating you!” 
“Right,” he clicked his tongue, as he looked down at his hand covered in your cum, “That’s not what your body said five minutes ago.” 
You wanted to call him his usual nickname but stopped short when he lifted his hand to his lips, tongue extending out and licking your cum from his palm then shoved his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 
Fuck she tastes so good. 
Your face reddens, “Prick,” 
His eyes roamed down to your cunt, “Pull your shorts up.” 
“I hate you.” 
Once you all arrived at the hotel and checked into your rooms, you quickly locked the door, sliding your back down the wood and covering your face in your hands. 
The guilt of what happened was finally hitting you. You masturbated with him. Watch him cum down his hand and even let him make you cum. You let him kiss you, and shove his tongue down your throat. 
You felt dirty and in need of a shower to wash away the guilt and feeling of his hand between your legs. 
Everyone was supposed to meet down in the lobby twenty minutes after getting to their rooms to change and do whatever else before hitting up the club. It was plenty of time to shower and wash Sunghoon off you. 
You scrubbed your body clean and even double-brushed your teeth before sliding into the dress Yunjin and Chaewon forced you to bring, “It makes you look so hot!” Yunjin said, “Fits you in all the right places!” 
Well, she was right. The red dress was made of silk and slid down your body perfectly as well as fit you perfectly. It was tight around your frame to show off your curves, shaping your ass and lifting your tits. You slid your feet into matching red sneakers, not caring enough to walk around in heels all night. 
You arrived in the lobby, seeing that Jake and Sunghoon were the first ones there.
Just looking at Sunghoon not only brought back your moment in the car together but brought out a different feeling. 
You could tell he also showered by how wet his hair still was. His hair was parted perfectly in its normal part, pieces sliding down into his face. His black button-up shirt was tight against his frame, showing his muscled arms and shoulders perfectly. Matching his shirt, he wore black pants that fit him perfectly in a loose way. 
Jake mirrored his outfit but in white, going for a whole yin and yang thing. Which made sense for the two of them being best friends and all. 
“Wow,” Jake was the first to speak, “You look—“
“Sexy,” Sunghoon finished for him, his gaze eyeing you up and down. 
“Yes! Sexy!” 
Sunghoon tried to not let his irritation with his best friend show as he watched him practically drool over you. If only Jake knew he was knuckles deep in your pussy not even an hour ago. 
Hell, Sunghoon was trying to not drool over you right now. Red was definitely your color and it was doing something to him down in his pants. Especially with the way the tops of your breasts pooled over the top of that dress. 
You noticed how he was eye fucking you, earning you to scrunch your nose at him and look away, putting your attention fully on Jake. 
Shit, there’s that attitude I want to fuck right out of her. 
It didn’t take much longer for the others to arrive and off to the club you all went. 
The club was packed. The music you didn’t quite care for and Sunghoon wouldn’t let you out of his sight, following your every move like a hawk hunting his prey. 
Everyone else had found their way to the dance floor, shaking some ass and grinding up on random strangers having the time of their lives. That could be you if you didn’t have an idiot penguin on your heels. 
You walked up to the bar, waving the bartender over, “Yes ma’am?” he said, his eyes immediately dropping to your cleavage.
“She’ll take a strawberry coconut rum with extra ice please, make it two,” Sunghoon answered for you. 
You looked over at him, seeing how closely he stood next to you. Sunghoon wanted to touch you, have his hands on you to show every man in this club to back the fuck off. 
“You got it,” the bartender said, giving a small look of irritation at Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon just smirked, eyes flickering to his name tag, “Thank you, Choi Yeonjun.” 
Yeonjun just thinned his lips out, “Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then he walked off to make the drinks. 
Your glare at him didn’t falter, “Can I help you?” Sunghoon asked. 
“Can I help YOU? I can order my drinks myself.” 
“He was literally eye fucking you, I had to do something.” 
You raised a brow at him, “Huh? Is it eating you up so much that other men are looking at me?” 
Yes because no one else is allowed to have you. 
“Why would I care about that? It’s not them looking, it’s the fact they aren’t just looking. They are undressing you with their eyes and I can’t fucking stand it.” 
You’ve never seen Sunghoon so…protective before. He’s never batted an eye at you twice at the clubs and bars back home, letting any and every man hit on you as much as they wanted. What changed between then and now? 
Yeonjun returned with your drinks, giving you a flirty smile and glare at Sunghoon before walking away again. 
Sunghoon snarled at him. 
“Anyway!” You snapped, “How did you know what to even order me?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, taking a sip of the alcohol, “I’ve known you for over a year, YN. I’ve seen what you drink when we’ve gone out and at parties. I know you.” 
Somehow that hit hard to your heart, that he even paid that much attention to you outside of the constant teasing. 
“You hate me, why go through this trouble?” you scoffed, chugging down your drink quickly, wanting to already feel the buzz. 
“I hate you, but not in the same way you hate me,” he finally admitted, “It’s not any trouble at all to protect you, I’ve always done it, always shooed off anyone who would hit on you for too long. You just never noticed it.” 
Your heart skipped a beat, your memory shoving back in time at every time someone hit on you, how they’d flirt and touch your waist, only for them to leave to grab a drink and never return. Now you know why, Sunghoon got to them. 
“What do you mean that you don’t hate me the same way I hate you?” 
Sunghoon looked away from you, chugging down the last bit of his drink before tossing it back onto the bar counter and taking a deep breath in. 
“You hate me because of how I flirt with you, how I tease you about anything and everything. You hate me for how loud I blast my music, hate me for being loud when Heeseung, Jay, and Jake are over, hate me for the number of females I’ve brought in and out of my apartment, hate me because you think I had a threesome with those girls all that time ago when I actually didn’t, by the way, I sent them home before anything else could happen. And you hate me for competing against you in class, hate me for joining your friend group, the list goes on. But me? I hate you because of how bad I want you.” 
He looked back at you, his face softened from his hardened look from earlier at Yeonjun. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was holding everything back. 
Sunghoon wanted to yell at you for how stupid you were for not seeing how he felt about you. That his little teasing and acts of flirting were because he likes you. Yeah, he wanted to fuck your brains out along with that nasty attitude of yours, that ain’t no lie, but the moment he first laid his eyes on you his heart wanted to jump out his chest. And after seeing the way you eyed him up that one day you went to yell at him about his music, it tipped him over the edge to always wanting to be that thorn in your side pissing you off. Because it was better than making you feel nothing at all for him. 
Sunghoon sighs, “I hate you because I want you so bad. I hate you because you can’t even dare say my name. I hate you for the things you make me feel. I fucking hate you for letting me kiss you in the car because now all I can think about is how I’d get my lips back on yours.”
You stared blankly at him, before nervously shaking your head and letting out a chuckle, “Right. This is just your way of teasing me again.” 
“If I wanted to tease you right now, I’d bring up how badly you were gasping at my cock in the car.” 
“Shut up!” You snapped, your face reaching the same shade as your dress. 
He smirked at you, “All that aside, I want you so fucking bad that I can’t handle it anymore, and by how fucking wet you were for me…” he took a step closer to you, face nearly inches apart from yours, “I know you want me so bad too.”
You swallowed, body shaking from how close he was to you right now. Sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, biting at his lower lip, “Say my name,” 
You lifted your face a bit, barely brushing your lips to his, “No,” 
Sunghoon’s hands were now at your waist, fingers digging into that sexy dress of yours that he wanted to rip from your body, “God I want to fuck that attitude out of you.”
Your heart was doing flips and you finally understood why: because of the feelings that ran deep within you that you sheltered up and locked away. Finally understanding that’s why he made your blood boil at nearly existing. You were forcing the feelings you felt for him away. 
You landed your hands on his biceps, rubbing your thumb over the muscle, “Say my name,” he said again. 
You smiled, shaking your head. 
Sunghoon just smirked back at you, taking a few steps back and guiding you with him, “I am going to get you to say my name.” 
You, for the first time, flirted back, “How are you going to do that?” 
He didn’t respond, just kept pulling you toward the entrance of the club and until you were back at the hotel and being shoved into his room. 
His mouth found yours, his hands roaming every inch of your body as your fingers trailed down his shirt, undoing every button until the black fabric was lying somewhere on the floor. 
Sunghoon shoved his tongue down your throat at the same time he found the zipper to your dress, pulling it down in a shift motion to get you out of it quickly. 
His cock was twitching in his pants, so eager to be set free and find its new home inside your cunt. 
The moment your dress hit the floor, you were shoved onto your back on the bed, his hands on your hips and pulling you to the edge, looping his fingers into your panties nearly ripping them off you. 
“So fucking needy,” you teased him, “Want me that bad?” 
Sunghoon hissed, “You have no fucking idea.” 
He towered over you, pressing his lips back to yours as his fingers slipped into your soaked pussy. You moaned against his mouth, closing your thighs around his hand. 
“Say my name,” he said once again, “I wanna hear you say it.” 
You bit your lip, ushering out another no. 
Sunghoon was going insane for this little game of yours, it turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Maybe he was actually crazy. 
“Say my name,” he said as he pushed his fingers into you harder, curling his fingers at your g-spot, “Scream my name and I might consider letting you cum.”
You slid your hand down to your clit, working your fingers against it, “That's fine, I’ll just make myself cum.” 
Sunghoon groaned, swatting your hand from your clit and removing his fingers. Both hands grabbing at your waist and flipping you over, lifting your ass up and making your back arch, “Shit I can’t wait to fuck that attitude of yours away.” 
“Funny you think that’s something that can be done,” 
He took a handful of your hair and lifted you up, letting out a “Watch me,” in a whisper against your ear, then shoved you back down into the sheets. 
You heard the sound of his pants hitting the floor, then felt his tip prod at your entrance, “Prick…” 
“What was that?” 
“Pri—“
Before you could make out the word, he shoved his length into you, bottoming out then pushing himself back out and then in, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. 
You didn’t care though, the pleasure was far too great as he fucked into you like you were a bitch in heat, “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll start thinking twice before giving me attitude again.” 
And that’s how you ended up here, back pressed so tightly against his chest as his cock and fingers worked their magic on your body. 
You reached your hands up and behind his, fingers tangling into his hair as your brain became foggy. 
He fucked into you with the full intention of getting you to scream his name. Of getting you to come so unglued on his cock you’ll be begging him to fuck you some more. 
Even with these goals in mind, Sunghoon couldn’t believe he had your body pressed up against his, cock so balls deep into your cunt, and hearing your moans so crystal clear in his ear. He loved it. Loved how much of a mess he was making of you. 
He worked his middle finger faster against your clit, “Say my name,” he begged, “Say my fucking name.” 
You bit down on your lip, trying with any willpower left that you had to keep from screaming his name. From giving him exactly what he wanted. 
Sunghoon kept trying and wasn’t going to stop until his name left your lips. He’ll fuck you until the sun starts raising if he had to, all to hear your pretty voice speak his name. 
Your climax was fast approaching, you wanted to cum so bad, and you knew what you had to do to reach it, finally letting go. 
“Sunghoon,” you softly moaned. 
“Louder,” he growled. 
“Sunghoon,” you moaned again. 
“Louder!” 
“SUNGHOON,” you screamed at the same time you came on his dick, his fingers and thrusts did not slow long down. 
“Fuccckkkk yessss,” he groaned, removing his fingers from your clit and using all his weight to push you back down into the sheets, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pounding into you faster and harder than before. 
You chanted his name, losing your breath at the ecstasy that filled you. 
“That’s it, baby, scream my name like it’s the only name you’ll ever know.” 
You continued to moan his name, making it music to his ears and filling his heart with such happiness he didn’t think was possible. 
“Fuck, you love hoonie’s cock, ya? Love the way I give it to you?”
“Hoonie,” you cried out, “Fucking love your cock so much.” 
Sunghoon gripped his hands tighter around yours, “Cum for me again baby, you can do it.” 
You released on him again, your eyes seeing stars. 
He pushed your legs further apart with his knees and fucked harder into you, “I’m so in love with you,” he admitted, “I love that stupid ass attitude of yours, I love fucking that attitude out, I love the way you say my name and love the way you look at me while I fuck you. I love you.” 
You lifted your head, barely being able to look at him, but you did. You were looking up at him with such endearment. Like he was the one who put the stars in the sky just like he’s the one making you see them right now. 
“Sunghoon,” he came undone at how softly you said his name, his seed unloading into your gummy walls, slowing his thrust as he chased down his high, “I love you too.” 
You both sat hand in hand in the backseat, Sunghoon pinching your cheeks in a teasing manner as he rubbed his nose against yours, his smile so wide. 
“Hey,” Jay called from the front seat, “What the fuck happened with you two?” 
Heeseung groaned and slung his head onto the headrest, “You don’t even want to know! They were fucking each other's brains out all night.” 
Chaewon yawned at the driver's seat, “Be lucky you didn’t have a room next to his.” 
“No for real,” Heeseung added, “I got so tired hearing how many times he asked YN to cum for him. Wanted to shove pencils down my ears.” 
Sunghoon slapped his friend's chest, “Bring earphones next time buddy.” 
Jake and Yunjin looked at each other confused at what happened between their best friends, but going along anyway. Jake always knew Sunghoon had feelings for you and saw how he bottled it up. Jake guessed last night was Sunghoon’s tipping point. And Yunjin always knew you’d break at some point and accept Sunghoon, she just didn’t expect it to be as a lover. 
“Anyway,” Jay said rubbing his temples, “Let’s hit the road, I have work tomorrow and need to sleep off more of this hangover.” 
Chaewon then started the drive back home. 
Sunghoon rested his face back against yours, bringing your lips to his, “Say my name again.” 
“Sunghoon,” you whispered between kisses, “Sunghoon, Sunghoon, Sunghoon.”
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3K notes · View notes
hannikin-grahamkin · 1 year
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He's not my enemy. He is my homoerotic rival and if anybody but me ever tries to hurt him I will promptly kill them.
18K notes · View notes
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Enemies to lovers? Blue Eye Samurai is just for you!
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"You can't die before me!" and "Only I can kill you!" are the words Taigen (in green) repeats to our protagonist Mizu (in blue). They were childhood enemies and now they are rivals.
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But both of them feel sexual tension and Mizu's feelings for Taigen are not platonic kind. After all, Mizu is into strong men who can hold their ground when fighting with him.
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They fight alongside each other and make painful sacrifices for each other. They deny their feelings and desires.
One can't help but root for them.
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buckyalpine · 6 months
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Bucky can’t stand you
Smuttay Smuttay. Imagine Bucky finding you to be the most infuriating person he's ever met in his entire life. He used to strongly believe you should never hit a woman. Being a man from the 40's, he believed that with his entire heart and soul because he was one of the few who hated the way some women were treated by their husbands.
That was until he met you.
God, he was ready to beat your ass.
"Didn't you say you'd never hit a woman" Sam snorted while Bucky's jaw ticked, having complained about you for half an hour straight while you went off the plan completely, taking the mission into your own hands.
"That's not a woman, that's the devil spawn" Bucky said incredulously, watching you make your way to the target with a flirty smirk on your face "How and why is she like this"
"Shut up" you hissed through the coms, your hips swaying as you walked away. "
You pissed him off and you made his cock hard.
You ran your mouth to no end and you made him leak.
You had such an attitude and he'd masturbated d to you more times than he could count.
He hated you.
He hated you so much.
"You're gonna screw this mission up if you keep acting like a desperate whore" Bucky growled as you slinked onto the targets lap, effortlessly pocketing the pen drive from his blazer while skimming your hands all over him. The man was none the wiser, groping your ass, the action making Bucky's blood pressure boil.
You whispered something in his ear before hopping off, throwing a wink over your shoulder before disappearing through the exit of the bar and into the getaway car, signaling to Sam and Bucky that you were successful.
He doesn't breathe a word to you until you were all a the safehouse, glaring at you the entire time while pouring himself a drink.
"Try not to kill each other, I'm going to bed" Sam threw his hands up in defeat, seeing as the both of you would never reach a truce. You shrugged, rolling your eyes at the soldier, making your way to your room instead. Bucky down the dark liquid that burned his throat before following you, his brooding figure brushing your back as you entered your room.
"There a problem Barnes?" You sassed, gasping when he gripped your hair and yanked you back, shoving you against the wall. His metal arm wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides just enough to make your breaths lighter, his pupils dilated to 100.
"You have a real problem, you know that?" He growled lowly making your stomach flip, your pulse racing a the scent of his cologne when he stood so close to you.
"Yeah? And whats that" your attitude faltered as he pressed his chest against yours, his warm breath fanning on your face.
"You. Never. Listen. It's infuriating. So tell me. What should I do" It took everything in him not to push you down onto your knees, forcing your into submission for once. "You're a brat" He hissed, eyes growing wide when he could smell your arousal which you tried to hide, your thighs squeezing together giving you away.
"Fuck this" Bucky tossed you onto the bed, pulling out the switch blade he had in his pocket. Your dress was sliced off before you could blink, your lingerie torn off next.
"Bucky, what-
Before you could say anything else, he gripped your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together, making you pout with a needy whimper. He gave you a satisfied smirk, running the handle of the knife through your folds, gathering your slick before licking it clean off with a groan.
"M'gonna fuck you and you're gonna take it, then you're gonna thank your Sargent for fucking the brat out of you, understand?"
You nodded, yelping when he smacked your cheek, shaking his head.
"Use your words, kitten"
"Yes, Sargent" You whispered, your heart hammering out of your chest as he started to undress himself, his belt buckle hitting the floor. A new wave of arousal pooled between your legs as he stood naked before you, his cock standing tall and proud. He cocked an eye brow at the way you stared at him, practically drooling as he pumped his length a few times.
He crawled onto the bed, shoving your legs apart, flicking his cock through your folds and slamming into you without warning, making you take all of him at once.
You cried out in pleasure, your arms and legs wrapping around him to ground yourself some how, your cunt fluttering and struggling to accommodate for his girth.
"Buck-Sargent-too-s'too thick" You moaned as he drew his hips back and started to pound into you, snarling with pleasure at the feelings of your nails raking down his back. "SARGENT PLEASE"
"Thats right, beg your Sargent to stop baby, cry when I ruin you with my fat cock" He sat back on his heels, throwing your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper angle, your eyes rolling back until they nearly crossed. "Lookit you going all dumb on my cock baby, such a needy little pussy"
You didn't get a chance to respond, squeaking when he manhandled you till your face was pushed against the mattress with your ass in the air. He spanked your ass raw, shoving his cock back in, setting in a brutal pace.
"Always acting so sassy, making my dick so hard with those stupid skimpy outfits of yours. You're a little slut but you're my slut, understand kitten?"
"Y-Yes-yes-yes-so-good don'on god don't stop" You slurred out, as he rammed into your pussy, the headboard denting the wall with each thrust, slamming your hips back against him.
"That's it. Fucking take it, Nast little slut, sitting in any mans lap, now look at you, huh. Look whose cock you're crying over lil mama, tell me whose cock your all soaked for"
"Yours sargent! all for-you" You panted while his sinful fingers moved to rub your clit, his pace growing sloppy, blinding pleasure starting to consume you both.
"OH FUCKKK I'm gonna cum!!" You cried out, wailing into the sheets, the vulgar sounds of skin on skin carrying through the room. Bucky moaned, fucking you harder, his head thrown back feeling your pussy suck him in deeper.
"Cum, cum on my dick, c'mon baby, give it to me, thats it lil mama, milk my cock-shit-i'm cumming!" Bucky let out a guttural moan feeling you squeeze and pulse around his cock, stilling his hips as he throbbed ropes of his spend into you. You both collapsed onto the bed, blindly reaching for each other with out saying another word, letting soft kisses and cuddles throughout the night do the rest of the talking.
-
"Morning Sam-
"You both owe me money for therapy"
"Sam-
"You shut up before I pawn a piece of that arm"
"Sam-
"You went at it like rabbits"
"Sam-
"I think the bed almost broke into my room"
"Sam-
"I'm never calling you Sargent again, you've tainted the word for me"
"Sam-
"My ears have never been so violated"
Bucky smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you together. You giggled while Sam gagged in the background again (he 100% approves of you two together but he'll never tell Bucky that).
"Nasty fucks"
5K notes · View notes
me-writes-prompts · 1 month
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-:“We just got together but I already love them” Wholesome new couple prompts:-
(AHH I RANDOMLY GOT THIS IDEA AND HAD TO DO IT. please tag me if you write any of these :’)
By @me-writes-prompts
“Can I…may I hug you?” They ask softly, when you’re done ranting about an exhausting day you had. (🥺❤️‍🩹)
Planning a picnic and making them food even if you’re an amateur cook, in hopes you’ll impress them more🫶🏽
^^ “Did you make this?” “Yes…is it not good? I’m sorry.” “No, no. It’s good, heck, it’s great!”
The way their eyes light up when their partner comes to them.
Leaving little notes by their bedside with a kiss on their forehead. AHHH
“Ok…so, umm I made this playlist for our first month anniversary. I hope it’s not too bad!” “Omg, this is- I can’t believe it! I always wanted someone to make me a playlist!”
Getting them way too many gifts for their birthday.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, baby.”
The little kisses they share throughout their day, and getting absolutely flustered over it because it’s all so new
Cuddle session every. Other. Night.
Cooking their favorite meal together
Constant compliments and the little things they notice about each other as they grow together
Baking cookies for their families as it’s their first Christmas!
^^ “Your cookie looks better than mine!” “No, your does!” “No, yours!” “No-” And they just pull them in a kiss to shut them up with a smile already forming on their lips.
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street-smarts00 · 2 months
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Complimentary Colors
Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader
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WC: 7.3K
Summary: After recently joining the team, you and Spencer could never get along. What started off as you two ignoring each other turned into bickering at work. What happens when a stressful moment for you turns into an opportunity to get to know this fascinating coworker of yours?
tags: enemies to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of crime/murder at the beginning (talking about cases/kidnapping), reader is shy and anxious, reader looks young for her age. (reader might be female but i don’t think i specified)
A/N: I haven’t written anything in years and I’ve been on a criminal minds kick for a while. I had this idea loosely based off a prompt I saw on cai by (ApolloTheBoykisser) so thanks babes ;) also for once I had a fic of mine beta read lol my bestie beta read this for me. This is also posted on my AO3 page.
You had been working at the BAU for the last few weeks. You tried to get to know most of your coworkers and it seemed like you were making great progress. You had heard a lot about the team before you joined and were pretty intimidated by them at first. Okay- you were still pretty intimidated by them. But you pushed through your quiet exterior little by little and slowly but surely tried to get to know them. 
All except for Spencer Reid. It seemed like he was trying to avoid you. He was always very quiet and would barely talk to you. Being a shy person yourself, you thought maybe he was just shy or a quiet guy. However, he continued to ignore you except for when he had to acknowledge you for work. 
His coldness towards you was increasingly annoying as time went on, and your perception of him had slowly warped. The things about him you once found endearing, you now forced yourself to hate about him. If he rambled for too long, it could potentially make your blood boil. However, you could never stop paying attention to when he rambled on about facts or statistics. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him fascinating.
It didn’t take that long for him to start acknowledging you, but this soon turned into the two of you bickering like children. When you were discussing cases or profiles, you both would argue over motives, victimology, crime scenes- literally anything about the case- you two could turn it into an opportunity to contradict the other. You both still kept a level of professionalism to not let your rivalry affect your job. 
But there was always this tension between the two of you when you were in close quarters for too long. 
And at some point you both reached your boiling point. 
Last week, while the team was on a case, you and Spencer had gotten into a little spat once again. This time it went beyond the slight bickering or contraction. In the middle of the local precinct, you two were at each other's throats. 
“What was that?” You asked after you and Spencer left the interview room that held a victims family. 
“I was working off of the profile . . .” 
“You mean the profile we haven’t finished?” You interrupted. “The one we are still currently working on and have yet to disclose?” 
“That doesn’t mean we can’t work off of the information we already have,” he objected. 
“You told her information we are still unsure about. We don’t know for a fact how long he keeps them alive,” you accused while placing your hands on your hips, trying to conceal your frustration but failing.
“Guys.” Someone tried to tone things down. Neither of you heard who and you weren’t backing down.
“If I remember correctly, I heard you discussing this very subject and inputting your thoughts  . . .” 
“You still shouldn’t have told her! Especially when you don’t know for sure if her daughter could be alive,” you seethed stepping closer.
“Would you rather me hide everything from the mother who’s suffering from the disappearance of her daughter?” He asked, matching your tone and taking a step forward. 
“I didn’t say that!” 
“It sure sounded like it.” 
“Reid. Y/N.” The two of you turned your heads to your boss like two deer caught in headlights. 
“With me, now.” Hotch demanded and led you to an empty interview room. 
You could tell how angry he was- despite the fact that his stoic face represented almost every emotion in the book. But by the tone of his voice, you knew you and Spencer had messed up. 
“You two do not only represent this team, you represent the bureau. These cops are already not pleased with the idea of their boss calling us in and I do not need you arguing in front of them and giving them a reason to take us off this case. You must learn to respect and cooperate with one another or I will take you both off this case. Do I make myself clear?” He lectured. 
You both replied with a monotone “yes.”
“Good” 
Ever since your argument, you both had been relatively quiet towards one another. Like it had been in the beginning when you were ignoring each other. But that didn’t stop you from letting him invade your mind at every waking minute. It almost saddened you in a way there was no more bickering or quick remarks with him. With how much it annoyed you, you never thought you would miss it. 
The team had just finished a case and before everyone packed up and went home, Rossi announced that tomorrow everyone should come over for a little ‘get our minds off work’ get together. Your coworkers all thought it was a great idea to relax after the last few very stressful cases. 
As excited as you were to finally go to one of Rossi’s house parties, you were also scared shitless. Parties with relatively new people in your life were hard. You were so quiet around new people and were scared to approach others; you often waited to be approached. To you, being a profiler was easier than having a social life. 
But, maybe this time would be different. There’s not that many people on the team and you’d already started to familiarize yourself with them. 
The next day, you were pulling up to Rossi’s house. If there was anything else to be intimidated by with this man- besides his years of experience in the BAU- it was this giant house. You were greeted by the man himself at his front door. 
“Y/N, glad you could make it.” He opened the door and welcomed you in. 
He led you inside to where everyone else was gathered. Everyone was cheery at your arrival. Penelope with her clicky heels ran up to you and greeted you with a hug. It was refreshing to be around people who were so welcoming. It made it a little bit easier to really let your walls down. 
Well, almost everyone. Spencer gave you a small wave from where he stood. 
The night continued on and you would occasionally engage in conversation with the team. At this point, you were off to the side- standing in the kitchen and occasionally sipping some wine that Rossi had been bragging about and was just so excited for everyone to try. You were a bit too overwhelmed to go back to talking. The music was getting a bit loud and the lights seemed to be too bright. You opted for sitting on the barstool next to the counter and observing everyone around.  
They were all off in small groups or pairs around the house. All except for you and Spencer. He was another outlier and standing away from all the commotion. You looked over in his direction and he caught your eye. You both glared at each other and you quickly averted your gaze away from him. Your thoughts started to race and you began playing with your hair. 
After a moment, he glanced over in your direction again when you weren’t looking. He was unintentionally profiling you and noticed you getting overstimulated. Your eyes laser focused like you zoned out, your foot tapping against the chair, and your hand anxiously playing with your hair. 
While he wasn’t exactly your friend, he did understand what it felt like when social gatherings got overwhelming. He made his way over to you, careful not to make you more nervous or uncomfortable. 
“You okay?” He asked you. You were pulled away from spacing out. His voice sounded a bit concerned- which took you by surprise. You were partially relieved someone approached you to help bring you back down to earth. That someone noticed something was off. What confused you was the fact that person was Spencer. 
“I’m fine.”
He was well aware of what it meant when someone was “fine” and you were clearly not fine. He felt bad that you were so quick to shut down his attempt to check on you. After all, it was his fault and he knew that. 
“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked. 
You were conflicted. You didn’t want to be outside alone with him, but at the same time, you needed some time away from everything. Maybe it would help calm your nerves. 
“Maybe for a bit.” 
You followed him outside onto the back patio. You took note of the fresh air and the muffled sounds from inside. It all felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Pretty soon though, you realized how awkward it was to be outside alone with him. 
Spencer cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence, “Sometimes these parties can be . . . a lot.”
“A little bit. I was doing fine for a while but I think my social battery is running low.” You confessed to explain your discomfort. 
“Yeah” he replied. He appreciated the fact that you felt comfortable enough to express this with him. He tried to relate to you. “It’s the same with me. Sometimes I just need a moment to collect myself.” 
“Exactly.” You were relieved to hear that he felt the same way. “Plus it doesn’t help that I'm so new to the team.” You crossed your arms and slightly closed yourself off.
“I was the same way when I first joined.” He told her to try and ease your concerns. You were just like him at some point. The new guy and just trying to figure out how you fit in. 
“It’s difficult at first, but you settle down after a bit. Once you get to know everyone.” 
“Yeah it’s just the whole getting to know them part is a bit . . .” You abruptly stopped, hesitating to reveal too much to him.  
“A bit what?” 
“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.
He obviously noticed your hesitance and avoided his usual behavior with you. You were always so strong and quick to banter with him. But now you seemed vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that. 
“It’s not just you, I promise.” He was being honest. This was the calmest and most genuine conversation the two of you had ever had. “I find them all pretty intimidating.” 
Your eyebrows raised at his confession. How could he possibly be intimidated by these people?
“Really? But you’ve known them for so long. You all are so close.” 
“Close doesn’t mean you can’t be a little intimidated,” he replied. It might not make much sense, but it was the truth. 
“I mean Hotch is always stonewall and silent, no matter what you say to him. And don’t even get me started on Morgan.” He joked, knowing you would understand. 
You lightly chuckled at his joke. “I get what you mean.” You were starting to understand him more. You thought it was ironic that one of the team members you were first intimidated by was also intimidated by the team. Now he was starting to seem less intimidating or annoying and more approachable. You kinda liked seeing this new side of Spencer. 
“I guess I’ve always been like that. Worried to get to know people or open up.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were telling him this, but you knew he would understand. 
"I think when you're afraid of being hurt or judged or misunderstood by people, you try to keep your guard up." He told you, speaking from experience. From a young age until now, he's always felt misunderstood. 
"And I think...maybe that's why you're on edge with me? You're not sure what to expect from me."
“Are you profiling me?” You asked jokingly. Spencer however thought you were serious and you noticed him tense up. 
“I’m kidding.” Your expression softened to let him know you weren’t actually accusing him of profiling you. “I’m gonna be completely honest, I’ve been on edge with you cause I thought you didn’t like me.” 
He was a bit taken off guard by your statement. But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. He didn't dislike you now, but at first, he wasn't exactly fond of you. And now he was ashamed of that.
"I didn't like you." He admitted. "I thought you were pretentious, too eager to be accepted. I think I saw you as competition." 
Spencer’s comment did sting. It was never sunshine and rainbows to hear someone doesn't like you. However, you did take note of his language. He said “didn’t,” “thought” and “saw,” all past tense. Does this mean he doesn’t dislike you now? What you did appreciate was his reciprocated honesty. You both were making some progress in your relationship and you wanted to continue it. 
“I was eager to be accepted. I wanted to feel like I belonged.” 
“I know how you feel.” He expressed his sympathy. “I regret not giving you a chance. You’re not like I thought you were.” He also appreciated seeing this different side of you.
“You’re not like I thought you were.” You admitted. 
A little smirk tugs at his lips, “So I’m not as pretentious and selfish as you thought?” 
You lightly chucked, “I never thought you were selfish, but I did think you were a ‘know-it-all’ and trying to show off.” 
Spencer really didn’t want you to think he was a show off. Sure- he had a vast amount of knowledge, but he never wanted you to think he was bragging or that he knew better than you. “I do know a lot but I promise I’m not trying to show off. I just have all this information in my head and I want to share it with people or I’m really passionate about something and want to talk about it.” 
You understood that feeling all too well. There were so many times you wanted to ramble on about things you cared about or had knowledge on, but for the most part just stayed quiet. Meanwhile, he didn't keep quiet. He would go on and on. And while almost everyone else was either rolling their eyes or trying to shut him up, you were listening intently. You didn’t want to admit it back then, but now you were feeling up to it. 
“I will admit, while I did think of you as a know it all, I found a lot of your tangents interesting.” You admitted. 
His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was so used to people dismissing him. It was nice to hear you often would listen. “Really? You didn't mind me babbling on?" He asked, relieved with your response. 
"I mean, it is something I have trouble with. I tend to talk too much.” 
“Oh Dr. Reid I am very familiar with rambling and being worried about talking too much.” You paused for a moment- considering how much more you wanted to share with him. “I know it may not seem like it because I’m always quiet around the team but.. once I get comfortable around people, I actually get very rambly”
"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised. “About what?”  
“Really anything. Mostly things I’m passionate about like you. I’ll also tend to go on tangents about memories or just things happening in my life.” 
You made your way to a bench on the patio as you spoke. Spencer followed and sat down on a chair adjacent to you. You brought your attention back to him and noticed his focused gaze on you and he quickly licked his lips, a habit you noticed he did all the time.
"You really are a lot like me. You're just quieter at first." He added, teasing you a little. While he was not one for social cues, he had the sudden urge to be bold and make a joke. "Maybe next time I see you rambling, I won't immediately contradict you." 
You dramatically dropped your jaw and placed your hand over your heart. “Wow, you really know how to give a compliment,” you said, pretending to be offended. 
He laughed with a bright grin. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. The fact that you're so silent and reserved makes it that much more thrilling when I find out how much of a chatterbox you actually are." He joked, being playful as before.
Your cheeky smile slightly falters for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t notice but he did. “I think you won’t be so thrilled once I actually turn into a chatterbox around you.”
"Actually I think I would find it intriguing." He told you, looking directly into your eyes. "The quiet ones tend to be the most interesting and complex when they do end up talking."
“I’m not that interesting.”
“I beg to differ. You’re very interesting. Probably the most interesting person on the team.” 
Did he really say that? Did he mean it? Or was he just being nice? You tried not to profile him, but couldn’t help it. His body language expressed he was being honest. Uncrossed legs and arms, open palms, eye contact. The only thing you didn’t notice when studying his body language was his dilated pupils. 
“Thank you,” you smiled at his compliment, “I doubt I’m the most interesting though. You maybe, Mr. Three PHDs and can read 20,000 words per minute.” 
He smiled back at you, “Just because I'm well educated doesn’t mean you can’t be as interesting as me, if not more.” 
You couldn’t believe he was saying such nice things to you. This was the first time you guys were actually making some kind of connection.. and it felt wonderful. 
“I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long but are just now talking. And by talking, I mean not getting into a spat after speaking for more than 3 minutes.” You confessed with a hint of playfulness in your voice at your joke. 
“Yeah, I feel like I barely know you.” 
“What would you like to know?” You asked. 
He thought for a moment trying to think of a question to ask. You noticed once again that he licked his lips, trying to concentrate. 
“Let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” He asked. 
“Wow, I think that’s a bit too personal.” You said, voice laced with sarcasm. You tried your hardest to contain your amusement but started to smile. He smiled back at you. At first, he was always confused with sarcasm and social cues. To be honest, he still was. But he could just tell with you. He knew when you were joking and when you were being serious. He found your sense of humor amusing. 
“Yellow.” You answered. “What’s yours?” 
“Purple.” He replied. 
You intended to leave it inside your head- but a quiet “huh” made it past your lips as an idea came into focus. 
“What? Is it my choice for my favorite color?” He tried to joke with you but was also a little bit serious. 
“Oh no, it's just I thought it was interesting because those are complementary colors. You know how they are opposite on the color wheel?” You asked even though you figured he knew. 
He nodded his head, “Yes! Because they are on opposite ends of the color wheel, when they’re used together it creates a vibrant contrast and enhances visual appeal. The two colors almost balance each other out and support each other's intensity. Complimentary colors are a key component to color theory.” He suddenly noticed how long he was talking and his posture stiffened. He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided eye contact. “Told you I talk too much.”
“And I told you that I find your rambling interesting.” 
His head perked back up at you. You genuinely wanted to listen to him. It was refreshing to talk to someone that didn’t cut him off or zone out. 
“That’s kinda like us though, don’t you think?” 
“What’s like us?” He asked confused, still thinking about the fact that you actually enjoy listening to what he has to say. 
“How our favorite colors are complimentary colors. Like you said, they support each other's intensity. When you first see them they’re opposites, but the more you look the more they compliment each other.” 
He softly smiles. “That does sound like us. The more we learn about each other, the more we find we have in common.” 
There was a short pause where you both considered his statement. You did want to know more about him. You wanted to know all of him. 
“Can I ask you a question this time?” 
“Of course.” 
“So, you're always reading. Like everywhere you go, you carry a book with you. I wanna know: what’s a book you could read over and over again and never get tired of?” You wanted to know beyond his favorite color. You wanted to get to the various  building blocks that made him the way he was. 
Spencer considered your question for a moment. Trying to go through the near infinite list of books he’s read in his life. You could tell he was concentrating on his answer because licked his lips. “Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.” 
“Is he one of your favorite authors?” 
“Yes.” He said almost immediately, confident in his answer. 
“How come you like that book so much?” You asked.
You could see this sort of spark enter his eyes the more you asked about it. Giving him the chance to share his passions. ”Oliver Twist was one of the first books that used satire to deliver social commentary. Particularly in this book the social commentary was aimed at poverty in 19th century England. The book also quickly gained attention after its publication due to the scandalous subject matter in which crimes, such as murder, were depicted in detail.” 
Spencer finally stopped rambling and almost looked as if he caught his breath from the endless talking. But what he was met with was your undivided attention.
”That sounds really interesting, maybe one day I should give it a read.” You say with a soft smile.
“You should,” he matched your smile, but it seemed a bit more sheepish due to his brief tangent. “Have you ever read Charles Dickens before?”
You shook your head in response. “I’ve never read anything by him. I actually don’t read much. But I used to in high school.” You revealed. 
“What have you read?” He asked. He leaned slightly forward and unconsciously mirrored your body language and placed his right hand on his leg like you did yours.
“Pretty much the same books everyone else had to read for school.” You paused and tapped your fingers trying to refresh your memory.
“To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, 1984, um.. a few Shakespeare books.” You answered with the few books you could remember. 
“Which one did you like the most?” 
“I’m not sure”, you sighed and thought about his question, wanting to give him a genuine answer. “Maybe.. Macbeth. I remember finding the story interesting and I did a group project on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Like the scene where she’s hallucinating the blood on her hands.” 
Your voice started to pick up speed and volume ever so slightly. He could tell you were getting more passionate the more you spoke. Subtly displaying how you could ramble once you opened up to someone. He smiled as you continued, happy to see that you felt comfortable enough around him to let a hidden part of yourself out into the open. 
“I guess that kinda explains why I wanted to be a profiler and learn about psychology and forensics. I was interested in how Lady Macbeth's guilt manifested and caused her delusions. I wanted to understand why people did the things they did.”
“I can tell, you have this curiosity. You want to understand. Know the ‘why’. He mentally recalled the times you would express your curiosity during work. 
“Yeah, pretty much.” 
He pressed his lips in a line. “Is it- is it my turn to ask you something now?” He stuttered slightly. 
“I mean you don’t have to. It’s nobody’s ‘turn’ but you can if you want.” 
“I do.” He replied immediately. The corners of your mouth perked up into a small smile. He mirrored you.
“I may be stealing your previous question. Like you said you don’t read much. But I have noticed you listen to music a lot. I want to know a song you could listen to over and over again.” 
He was right, you often listen to music. Mostly on your way into work or on the jet, you would be wearing your signature headphones and have some playlist on. It was your own way of coping with the stress of your job. You looked down at the ground as you recalled the songs in your favorite playlist. 
“Dreams by The Cranberries.” You brought your eyes back up to face him. But what you saw was confusion in Spencer’s eyes. He tried to hide it but you knew better. “Have you heard that song?”
He did that little sideways pout you often saw him doing when he was in awkward situations.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. Spencer broke eye contact, embarrassed he didn’t know something from pop culture. 
“It’s okay. Remind me next time I have my headphones and I’ll show you.” You spoke calmly to reassure him there was nothing to be embarrassed about. 
He brought his attention back to you. Relieved to hear your gesture instead of a quip about his lack of pop culture knowledge like he was used to. 
“I will.” 
“Alright my turn.” You shifted your weight and brought your legs up to your side so your whole body could face him. “Um, it's kind of a personal question though. I’m curious about something.” 
“Go ahead. What is it?” He asked, giving you his whole undivided attention. 
“Does it ever bother you when people question your age when you say how educated you are?” 
He was somewhat thrown off by your question, but something told him you've wanted to ask him this for a while.
He furrowed his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. Considering I have had such an extensive education so early in my life, it’s completely understandable that someone would question how I did it at a young age.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed in response. He knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. 
“Can I ask you something personal?” He asked before asking his real question. He appreciated your concerns about potentially pushing a boundary and he reciprocated it. He didn’t want to break this newfound friendship- if he could call it that- by making you uncomfortable. 
You nodded your head, silently telling him it was okay.
He slightly fidgeted with his hands. “Did you ask me that because people question your age?” 
“Yes,” you answered hesitantly. “I’ve never looked my age.” 
He thought about his next question before asking. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just trying to understand. Why does that bother you?” 
“It bothers me when people don’t take me seriously. I mean I’m in my late 20s and some people still think I look fresh out of college. It hasn’t happened as often since I joined the BAU but so many people in law enforcement don’t take me seriously. People tend to think I’m too innocent to have a job like this.” You confessed to him as you avoided looking him in the eyes.
"I wouldn't say you're innocent.” His comment brought your eyes back to him. 
“But you do have a soft demeanor. It makes you approachable. If anything, those qualities are an incredible asset to this job whether it be when you're speaking to victims or their family members.” 
Even though he would often throw snarky retorts to you in the past and try to get under your skin, he always admired how good you were at your job. Of course, you were an amazing profiler and had no trouble standing against dangerous unsubs. But the way you handled incredibly sensitive situations with such calmness and comfort with others was admirable. During cases with children, you were able to ease their worries and provide a safe space.
“While you are very sweet and shy, I would never call you innocent.”
“Thanks,” you smiled at his compliments. You felt understood hearing his affirmation. It also warmed your heart to hear that he thought so highly of you. Especially since the last few weeks, you thought he hated your guts. Although- his comment did make you more curious about how you were perceived. “Half the time I don’t realize how shy I am or how I present myself,” you weakly chuckled.
“There were actually a lot of ways to deduce that you're shy,” he matched your lighthearted tone but also kept a sense of seriousness to prove he was being genuine.
“Was it the fact that I was sitting by myself and scared to talk to them?” You half joked as you figured that’s what he was going to imply.
"That was part of it, yes. But besides that, it was the way you often avoid direct eye contact, and the tone of your voice. It's gentle and low, as if you're afraid of coming on too strong.” He was too caught up in his thoughts and observations to realize how much he was divulging. “You keep your distance and your words are always measured or not overly assertive. Almost like if you do come off assertive you will receive backlash." 
When he met your eyes again, he noticed how frozen you were. On the outside you didn't reveal much, simply had a stoic expression. He knew you better than that. He knew that he had hit a nerve and started to panic that he went too far. He had finally wrecked this slowly growing friendship like he thought he would, by being himself. 
“Wow, yeah that sounds pretty spot on,” you agreed. You sounded soft spoken and played with your hair again, of course without your knowledge.      
“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He abruptly spattered in a panic.
“No it’s okay really,” you interrupted trying to reassure him. “I just didn’t expect you to be so ... correct.” 
He pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved he didn't mess things up, but still slightly worried he had left you feeling exposed. "I guess I'm just good at noticing things about people,” he shrugged.
“You forget, we get paid to notice things about people,” you joked with him, trying to make him feel better by lightening the situation. Of course, it worked. 
"That's true." He chuckled and paused for a moment to consider. Then he continued with his profile of you. 
"It's just the way your voice softens whenever you become uncomfortable, almost whispering or lowering in tone. Or your nervous habits, like when you play with your hair." It was a gesture he was pretty keen on catching.
You suddenly were very aware of the fact you were playing with your hair. You quickly dropped your hands and crossed your arms. 
"It's not bad that you do that, you know,” his voice had a slight crack in it. “It's just something you do subconsciously." He told her, trying to be comforting.
“Do you wanna know something you do subconsciously?” You asked, your voice with a hint of teasing. You decided that if he was going to profile you, you were going to profile him back. 
He noticed your tone and that you had gained a bit more confidence. "Sure, hit me." He said as he awaited your reply with curiosity and interest.
“You poke your tongue out a lot or lick your lips. Most of the time when you’re concentrating or lost in thought. Which means you definitely need to start using chapstick. I’ve seen you do it a lot since we’ve been out here.” You explained.
"So, are you telling me my lips are dry?" He replied playfully, his grin widening.
“They probably are,” you lightly laughed at the silliness of his question. He laughed along with you and subconsciously went to lick his lips again, but caught himself.
“I'm gonna be thinking about this so much more now,” he confessed. 
“Consider it payback for pointing out how much I play with my hair when I'm anxious. I don’t know what to do with my hands now,” you remarked as you dramatically waved your hands in the air.                                 
“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.
“I already told you it’s alright. You're not the only one who analyzes behavior. I’ve noticed plenty of things you do and why you do it.” 
“Like what?” He furrowed his eyebrows, curious what particular things about him you had profiled. He noticed something though. The confidence you once had, had washed away after you collected your thoughts.  
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stated.
"You won’t make me uncomfortable,” he responded almost immediately. “I promise. I really want to know.”
You took a deep breath before explaining your observations. “You desperately want to be heard. You love to share the endless knowledge you have, but when someone walks away or cuts you off your reaction is almost that of deflating. And when someone does show a bit of interest in what you have to say your voice perks up and almost cracks with excitement. Then you talk a lot faster, probably a mixture of excitement and as a way to keep the other person engaged and to not lose their attention.” 
Spencer carefully listened to every word you said. Not a single deduction was false. You had read him like a book in the short time you knew him. You noticed something about him that most of the team couldn’t pick up on. 
"You're right about everything,” he said with a soft tone. Almost everyone interrupted him, you never did. This got him thinking. Of course everyone on the team made observations about each other, they’re profilers of course. However, he wondered why you had made so many about him. 
"Are you always this observant about everyone? And I mean everyone. Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?" He asked his last question with a hint of a teasing tone.
You scoffed, “yeah right, like you get special treatment.” You thought about your response, not wanting to reveal too much.
“I guess I might have paid attention to you because you were the only one who was so closed off to me. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who you were even if you weren’t going to tell me.” 
He was right, you were paying him special attention. The fact that you wanted to know who he was despite his closed off nature revealed enough. 
“So you admit it, I get special treatment?" He cheekily asked. 
“Oh shut up,” you retorted. 
“Make me.”
Your lips pursed, holding back a smile. 
Spencer noticed you were trying to hold back a smile and found it endearing. He also noticed something else about your reaction. You were blushing. You blushed as a result of his taunting. He got lost in the thought of you blushing from him. 
“Something you wanna share with the class?” You teased. 
He didn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He wanted to make you sweat just a little bit and get a reaction out of you. 
"I'm curious about something. Could you tell me what would cause someone's cheeks to flush?" He tried to seem genuine but of course he came off with a hint of cheekiness. 
You furrowed your eyebrows. You were completely oblivious to your red face and were confused by his random inquiry. 
“Are you questioning my profiling skills?” You lightly scoffed, not knowing what his true intentions were.
"No, not exactly. I just want to know what you think.”
Your expression changed to one of confusion but also amusement. You decided to play along with his little game.
“Well psychologically blushing could mean a multitude of things. Embarrassment, stress, anxiety, attraction.” While your voice stayed consistent, he noticed the change in your breath and how your eyes darted away from him. It was a brief expression, but he caught it. He got the answer he was looking for.
"And which one of those can explain why you’re blushing?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he leaned closer to you.
Your stomach dropped and eyes widened. You shifted your weight in your seat and touched your cheeks. “I’m not blushing..” You ignored his question.
"You are.”
You sighed and stood up, “Well if I am it’s probably because you just pointed it out and I’m embarrassed.” 
"Oh, really?" He taunted and followed you. "I think that you might be blushing for a different reason."
You bit your lip out of frustration and crossed your arms. “Are you profiling me Spencer?” 
"Maybe I am,” he smirked. "I would say that maybe you've been so interested in me that you've been paying a lot of attention. That's why you took note of so many of my habits and behavior." 
Your face got redder and you started playing with your hair again. You huffed, “I told you before, the reason I paid attention to you was because I didn’t know you.”
"Sure, but you pointed out how you kept noticing I licked my lips. Why were you looking at my lips in the first place?"  
You were caught between a rock and a hard place. “Why are you so interested in why I’m blushing or looking at your dumb face anyway? Why do you care so much?” You asked defensively. 
He couldn’t respond, he froze up. 
“I mean, you question why I pay so much attention to you but here you are doing the same thing to me. Trying to read me like a book,” you accused. 
He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're both curious about each other."
“I guess we are,” you responded. You saw his cheeks turn pink in reaction to your questioning. “Look who’s red now.”
If his face could even get redder, it did. For a man that could probably say a thousand words a minute, it seemed like none of them could fall from his lips. 
It was your turn to smirk. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to leave you speechless. Never thought that would happen.”
"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed. 
“Make me.”
Spencer felt his stomach flutter, he smiled bashfully at your mimicking his own teasing. The seconds passed and neither of you spoke, neither of you had words. Both of you in your own heads. In your head, you got a stroke of confidence. You didn't know where it came from, maybe the teasing, maybe the fact that you had him speechless. But you took it and ran with it.
”Maybe the reason you wanted to know why I was blushing so badly, is the same exact reason I was blushing,” you mumbled. 
The realization hit him in waves. You just admitted to the very thing he was trying to get out of you in the first place. He was speechless once again, but this was different. He stared at you with a stunned look, not knowing what to do. 
You took his blank expression as a negative reaction, thinking you came off too strong. You slowly backed away from him, regretting putting yourself out there. 
“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Just forget it.” You turned around to go back inside but felt something on your wrist. You turned around and saw Spencer had grabbed your wrist to stop you. His eyes wide and breath heavy.
"No. Don’t,” he begged. 
"Really?" You whispered softly. 
He smiled, "yes. Please don't take it back."
You smiled back at him bashfully. Spencer’s reaction make your stomach do backflips, but it made you wonder. 
"Can I ask, why did you pay such close attention to me? 
He released his light grasp on your wrist and instead placed your hand in his. "I couldn't stop analyzing every single detail about you. I wanted to know you inside and out. There was something about you that felt intoxicating. After every time I spoke to you, even if it was just us bickering or arguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 
He looked down at your joined hands and started to rub his thumb over your hand. You looked up at him and smiled, glancing at his lips. “Well you definitely must be thinking about something now, you licked your lips.”
He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You made him feel like he was on full display, like he was a book that only you could read. 
He slightly blushed at your comment. “I am. Can you guess what I'm thinking about?"
You grabbed his other hand with yours as a smirk grew on your face, “How close we are. How it’s probably driving you crazy..” You nearly whispered the last part as you leaned closer to him, “how I’m making you crazy..”
"You do.” Spencer wrapped one of his arms around your waist and placed his hand on the small of your back. A shiver ran down your spine as his hand touched your back. Of course, he could tell and was light headed by the effect you had on him. He’d never felt so intoxicated by someone before. “You’ve made me a mad man ever since I met you.” 
Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.
“What about you?” He asked. “Do I make you crazy?” 
You glanced between his eyes and his lips. 
“Yes..”
It was like you both were on the exact same wavelength. You both dove in at the same time and slammed your lips together. Both of you just so desperate to get a taste of the other. The kiss was tender and passionate, with no single person in control. You both moved together in synced motions. All of the arguments, all the tension that had been slowly building up could be released.
When you finally parted, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. You felt his airy breath as he tried to come back down to earth. You placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. 
“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he breathed. 
“I can tell,” you chuckled. “what’s stopping you from doing it again?”
“Do you want me to?” He asked desperately. 
You placed your other hand on the back of his neck, “I love hearing you talk.. but shut up and kiss me.
Before today he never liked the idea of you telling him what to do. But now, he was at your mercy. He didn’t hesitate and locked your lips with his once again. You both melted together like lovesick teenagers. But moments like these of course don’t last forever. 
The sound of the patio door opening fell deaf on both your ears. It wasn’t until you heard Derek Morgan that you both pulled away from each other. 
”What’s going on out here?” Derek questioned with a smirk. 
You and Spencer couldn’t speak, too frozen to react. 
His grin only grew, “My man,” he chuckled as he glanced at Spencer.
“Don’t kill each other while you're out here.”  Derek left the way he came and closed the patio door. 
You sighed, “He’s gonna tell someone isn’t he?”
“Yup”
~
He made his way back to his coworkers with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “What’s got you all happy?” Emily asked. 
“Looks like our two angry birds are now two love birds,” he answered. 
“What? What are you talking about?” Penelope sprinted over as fast as she could with her heels. 
“How I just caught Reid and Y/N making out.”
The room exploded with chaos at the reactions to his news.
JJ, who was standing off to the side with Hotch, furrowed her eyebrows, “I thought they hated each other?” 
Hotch glanced towards the patio door and saw the light shadow of two figures. “No they don't. Not really.” 
1K notes · View notes
calumfmu · 2 months
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The King's Reign
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King Steve, the stupid nickname you had heard your entire life. The rumors, the huge ego to match. It was everything that made you hate him, especially when your best friend wouldn't shut up about him. Robin was forcing you to be friends with him, but it wouldn't stop the passion you had dedicated to wanting nothing to do with him.
Steve Harrington x reader, enemies to lovers edition, 7.7k+ words
cw: smut, unprotected sex, oral, Steve talking you through it (!!), fingering, angst, tension, 18+, mdni
You had heard rumors of ‘King Steve’ your entire life. Being in a small town like Hawkins allowed every rumor—big or small, to be spread like wild fire. Even when it came to talking about Steve Harrington’s dick. No matter what you did, nothing could allow you to escape the whispers throughout the town.
When Robin had befriended the man of conversation, you were annoyed, to say the least. You could barely escape him when you were trying not to listen to the gossip mill, but it was even harder when your best friend wouldn’t shut up about the guy.
You chewed on a fry, eyes focused behind your friend as you gazed at a group of girls from your school across the way. They were walking into a Tammy’s, hair higher than ever and short shorts hiked up on their long legs. You stared at them, wondering if they had a run around with the guy.
Robin was droning on about something Steve had done today at work, involving a bunch of kids who seemed too young for him.
A fry hit the side of your head, knocking your focus into her instead of the girls across the mall.
“Yn!” Robin sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re not even listening to me.”
“And you would be incorrect,” you responded, smoothing the grease off of your face from where it hit. You grimaced, annoyed at her antics. “You said something about Steve, some kid named Justin, and a stupid handshake or something.”
Robin pressed her lips in a straight line, rolling her eyes once more. They might roll out of her head at this point, you thought.
“His name is Dustin, and the handshake wasn’t stupid, it was cute,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. She pushed her food tray away from her, burger half eaten and fries lay abandon across the plastic.
You gasped, leaning across the table and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Woah, Rob.”
She furrowed her brow, wondering what you were getting at.
“I had no idea you swung that way, new development I see.” You wiggled your eyebrows at her, wanting to see how far her patience went. “I just have to know—is it as big as everyone says it is?”
You laughed and leaned back in your chair, blocking your face with your arms as Robin threw a handful of fries at you. Her patience ran out, clearly.
“Yn, can you please be serious for once?” The brunette whined, pouting out her bottom lip as she looked at you. Her infamous begging face. “I’m just telling you because I want you to be friends with him. I can’t be a child of divorce between you. It’s so emotionally draining.”
You giggled, eyeing the way her uniform made her look ridiculous as she begged you. It was rumpled in all the wrong places, red tie hanging loosely at her neck. It made her look like she was perpetually going to a Halloween party.
“How do you think I feel being an actual child of divorce?”
She gaped at you, mouth hanging open as she was at a loss of words. Sputtering, she found the words to say, “Fuck, okay my bad. You know what I meant!”
“I know, Rob, Im just fucking with you,” you laughed, shaking your head as she flushed in the face. She genuinely felt bad, you could tell.
Your parents had recently divorced, next month marking the full year since their split. Tommy and his stupid friends had made it their entire personality and asked you about it ever since the news hit the town. What’s wrong with Mommy and Daddy, they would ask. Daddy found out Mommy slept with the entire town?
You grimaced, thinking about the memories. None of the rumors were true, but that didn’t falter the town people into thinking that you all should be walking around with a Scarlet Letter on your chest.
Shaking your head, you diverted the subject as you hand came to rest of the table. “Me and Steve have never been friends, so you can’t be a child of divorce, Rob. And also, I don’t want to be friends with him.”
Robin stretched her arms across the table, grasping your hand in the two of hers. “Yn, please. I know we both used to hate him-”
“Still do.”
“-but I really think you’ll like him,” she continued, not batting an eyelash at your interruption. “He’s not that same Steve-”
“King Steve.”
“-that everyone talks about. Those rumors are just rumors, I mean, you know how it goes.” She paused when you looked away from her, squinting as you stared unfocused in the distance. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat in discomfort as you turned to look back at her. “Please, Yn?”
You chose silence in this moment, blinking at her with a serious expression on your face as she pouted at you. Her blue eyes were practically watering at this point, long lashes batting rapidly at you.
“Please, Yn.”
Her pleads continued, grip squeezing into your hand as a deadpan expression was being held on your face. This went on for another two minutes (you counted) as she begged you, leaning down every 15 seconds or so to kiss at your hand.
“Okay! Okay, fine, Rob!” You gave in, laughing as she decided to place kisses all over every inch of your hand. She cheered, throwing her hands in celebration before shaking them clasped at the sides of her head, as if thanking an audience for winning an award.
“I literally love you so much, Yn,” she beamed at you, lips stretched thin as she exposed all of her teeth to you. You don’t think she’s smiled this big, ever. “So, tonight, I was thinkin-”
“Tonight?!” Your eyes opened wide, heart beating in your chest as you realized how soon this interaction was going to be. You thought you at least had more than a few hours.
“Oh,” she smirked at you, tilting her head to the side. “Did I not mention that it was tonight?”
Sighing, you trailed a hand down your face, pulling down your features as she shared the details to come. You loved your friend, you really did. She was your best friend, but Christ was she a lot sometimes.
Awkward wasn’t the word to describe the tension in the room. The only sound you could hear was Robin’s nails clacking against the sound of her glass, and Steve’s occasional cough.
You were curled into the side of the couch, Steve on the other, Robin in between the two of you. Steve was looking every which way except the two of you, hand running through his hair as he chewed on his bottom lip. Robin glanced between the two of you, taking sips of her watered down sloppy cocktail in her hand. She kept moving to say something, mouth opening and closing around empty words.
You with your back against the arm of the couch, feet tucked into you as you stared down Steve. You were curious, if they were to ask you. You took in his features, his long hair, giant brown eyes, and navy—is that fucking cashmere?—sweater across his shoulders.
You were observing why him and Robin were friends, why this man had such a hold on your friend. He was attractive, you could admit, boyish features drawing you in, in a way you would never admit in a thousand years. He seemed nervous in this moment, something you hadn’t expected him to be. Cocky, arrogant, rude, brash, anything but this.
But he was still King Steve. The man you had heard about since you went to elementary school together. You were forced to listen to stories of Steve kissing girls underneath the jungle gym evolved to him fucking them in the back of his BMW at the drive-in. It was repulsive.
Robin cleared her throat, drawing your attention away from Steve as his into her. She offered a small smile, awkwardly tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“So… guys,” she phrased it like a question, voice dragging up on the end of the word. “How about actual conversation?”
“Sure.”
“No.”
The two of you having contradictory answers caused your eyes to be pulled into each other. Your face was unmoving as Steve raised his eyebrows at you, confused.
“I’d rather sit in silence,” you muttered, breaking eye contact with him as you leaned your head into your hand. Staring at him while he was focused on something else was one thing, but holding eye contact made you crumble, a slight blush crossing your features. You focused on Robin, shaking your head as she gave you a pleading look.
The blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Steve, a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow coming up to cross his face. It was like a switch flipped, the cockiness that surrounded the King Steve rumors coming into play.
“I think that’s a great idea, Rob,” he muttered, voice low as he stared into you. You turned your face towards the coffee table, examining the items abandon on the glass. Your eye twitched at the nickname of your best friend you so often used. You studied the nearly full bottle of vodka surrounded by shot glasses, a deck of cards, and a joint tucked into a clear baggie.
Robin had been optimistic at the night having a positive turn of events.
“I’ll start,” Steve said, turning his entire body so he was facing you. Your bodies mirrored each other, Robin sitting awkwardly in the middle as her eyes flitted between the two of you. “So, Yn… How come I’ve been friends with Robin this long, and have never had the honor of meeting you?”
“Wish I could say the same,” you rolled your eyes, leaning your head on your hand. Your heart was beating heavy behind your chest as you watched this man practically morph into a completely different person.
“Yn…” Robin’s hand came to rest on your knee, squeezing as her voice was a warning to you. Be on your best behavior, you could hear her thoughts.
“Hmm,” he answered, you felt his eyes brushing over your figure. You felt insecure in that moment, focusing on the bottle of vodka as you debated the quickest way to black out in that moment. “I’m just saying, Yn. I’ve heard about you for so long, yet I think this is the first time I’ve even seen you.”
You cut your eyes suddenly to him, your own gaze darkening as his words echoed through the room. You weren’t going to crumble (this time), your mind intent on showing him you weren’t intimidated by him.
At the eye contact, his smirk widened even further. There was a glint of something in his eye, similar to the stories you had heard of the Harrington Charm, or so it was called.
“Funny enough, I’ve heard a lot about you too, Steve,” you replied, huffing as his name left your mouth. “This town can’t stop talking about you. King Steve and how you’re so irresistible.”
The last word in your mouth dripped with venom, squinting your eyes at the suggestive look on his face.
Silence held the next few moments, Robin looking at the ceiling as she muttered words under her breath. It sounded something like a prayer.
“Would you like to find out, Yn?” His voice was low as his eyes bored into you, teeth dragging across his bottom lip as your name escaped his lips. Hair hung into his eyes, head tilted down slightly as he leaned forward an inch. Your breath hitched at the small movement, words at a loss.
Robin shot up from the couch suddenly, arms thrown into the air as she turned around to face the two of you. She shook her shoulders, grimacing at the interaction. “Okay!”
Steve slowly dragged his eyes away from you, smirk disappearing as he glanced up at the brunette. Just like that, King Steve was gone. He settled back into the arm of the couch as his eyebrows were raised to his hairline, lips parted as he stared at your best friend.
“Enough of whatever that was,” Robin tried to blink away the memory, hands resting at her hips. She turned to look at the coffee table behind her, leaning over to grab the abandoned bottle of vodka and the deck of cards. Grimace still present amongst her features, she held them up. “Drinking game, anyone?”
The night continued among the three of you, shots being poured as matching face cards were being thrown onto the table. You were pretty drunk at this point, vision blurring as you leaned into your friend. She was resting her head on top of yours, laughing at something Steve was doing.
He had stuck a card to his forehead, trying to guess which one it was. His eyes were glazed over, slightly hooded with intoxication as him and Robin bickered back and forth about the number of cards there was in deck.
He was losing the debate, set on why Robin was wrong. You had a dopey smile on your face, enjoying the interaction between the two of them. You could see why they got along, energies so different, yet so similar.
“Harrington, you’re so wrong,” Robin laughed, shaking her head as she ripped the card off of his face. A small red mark was left behind, Steve groaning as he rubbed it.
She stood up from the floor, stretching her arms out as she walked away from where you all were surrounding the coffee table.
“I’m starving, Steve, come with me,” she demanded, holding a hand out to help the man up as he complained.
“What about me?” You asked, frowning as you watched him begin to trail her into the kitchen. Your question went unanswered, the two disappearing around the corner.
You sighed to yourself, laying out your body on the floor as the room began to spin in circles. Eyes closing, you held your breath, praying you sober up a little before the end of the night comes upon you.
The look on Steve’s face flashed behind the darkness of your eyes, the sound of your name in his voice echoed in your ears. You felt a small smile creeping on you, only for you to open your eyes suddenly, viscerally shaking the memory out of your mind.
What the fuck, Yn? You questioned yourself, blinking as you looked around the room. Glancing at a clock across the room, you noticed it was half past 1 a.m., way later than you realized. Fuck, my parents are going to kill me.
You glanced towards the direction of the kitchen, head tilting back against the carpet. Robin and Steve’s voices were low, but urgent, causing you to sit up on your elbows.
You strained your ears, trying to focus in on her words.
“-don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Steve!”
“Whaaat?”
Their voices were heavy with the liquor, almost sounding drowsy.
“Stop trying to fuck my friends, Steve. I’m serious.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach, breath getting caught in your chest as you heard Steve laugh loudly at her words.
“Shhh!” You heard a thud, presumably the sound of her hand hitting him, based on the “Ow! What the hell!” that followed.
“Steve…”
Silence followed the conversation, your ears straining to see if the conversation continued, only for you to be met with the sound of footsteps coming your way. You panicked, moving to lay back down on the carpet. You crossed your hands over your chest, breathing fast as you tried to pretend like you hadn’t eavesdropped that entire thing.
Glancing up, you saw Steve swaying over you, hand on his hips as he smiled down at you. The overhead light shone over him, creating a halo around his perfectly styled hair.
You allowed yourself to stare for only a second before rolling your eyes.
“You’re blocking my light, Harrington,” you muttered, turning your head in the opposite direction.
He chuckled, moving so he sat next to you. He sat with his legs pulled close to him, being held together with his arms as they were clasped together.
“Sorry, didn’t realize you were getting a tan,” he was sarcastic in his words, light look on his face. He stared down at you, eyes grazing over your stretched out limbs.
“Why don’t you like me, Yn?” He asked, teeth pulling at the skin on his lip.
You closed your eyes, sighing as he started up that shit again. Did you not just have that conversation earlier that night?
“I quite like you,” his voice was a whisper now, hand coming out to dance at the edge of your own sweater. You pulled your arm away from him, tucking your elbow into your side. “You’re good for Robin.”
Questioning where Robin was, you glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Coming out was muffled sounds of her moving around the refrigerator, glasses clinging into one another. She was muttering to herself, something about pickles dipped in Greek yogurt.
“I think you’d be good for me, too.” The low tone of his voice had you squeezing your legs together, watching as his eyes briefly looked down at the movement. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the strands back into place.
“Leave me alone, Steve.” You tried to even your voice out as much as possible.
“I know you’re curious,” Steve cocked his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face. “About King Steve and his reign.”
You hacked a laugh, surprised at the boldness he had in this moment. The man’s ego was huge, even if he had the looks to back it.
“His reign? Is that what you want to call it?” Before you knew it, a small smirk of your own toyed at your lips.
“Oh, we can call it whatever you want,” the smile dropped from his lips as that darkened look took over his eyes once more. The amber glow of his irises turned nearly black, eyes narrowing as he stared into yours.
“The only thing I’m curious about,” you felt his fingers brush your clothes ribcage, ignoring the sensation, “is how there’s not a single bad thing to be said about this King Steve.”
His eyes slowly dragged over you, starting at your eyes to your lips to your chest and lingering at the spot between your thighs before returning to meet your gaze. He sucked in his bottom lip, gaze glancing towards the kitchen door as Robin began to make her way out, balancing about seven things between her arms.
She giggled, paying attention to the shaking of the items as she tried to not spill anything.
Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper, barely audible, “Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?”
You gulped, eyes on him as he switched it off, getting up to help Robin as she struggled with the items. You are so fucked.
Ever since that night between the three of you, you had been tagging along with Robin and her newfound friend more. The facade had been dropped, Steve no longer being flirtatious with you as you tried your hardest to ignore him.
He began to treat you the same as Robin, making stupid jokes towards you and letting his nerdy side come out during the interactions. Your hard exterior slightly crumbled away, defenses lowering as you realized that Robin may have been right about him. They weren’t completely gone, just lowered just enough to get to know him.
He wasn’t as much as an asshole as you imagined, he spent most of nights with a bunch of kids anyways. It was surprising, you had muttered some joke about the kids being “a little too young for you, Harrington?” only to earn his disapproval back. It was the most serious he had been since you met him, eyes dropping to the floor as he shook his head. You felt bad, seeing how defensive he had been over these kids he had practically adopted.
After that interaction, you dropped the King Steve stuff, seeing that your perception of him had been completely wrong. You would love to say that a beautiful friendship was blossoming between the two of you, but it was the opposite of that. You still hated him.
Every time you looked at him, you were reminded of his past, his stupid friend group that he used to hang with. Tommy had made the past few years of your life a living hell, torments of your parents separation and alleged affairs circling in the depths of your mind.
You watched him as he sat on the back porch of his house, cigarette hanging between his fingers as he reclined in the lawn chair over looking the pool. Robin sat in the chair next to him, turning the dial of the stereo as she tried to find a station with “goddamn decent music.”
The night sky hung heavy over you, your feet dipped into the pool as you watched the two from your perch on the side of the pool.
Smoke circled around him, lacing in and out of his hair as he looked in the night sky. A single light from the sliding glass door illuminated the back yard. His hair was annoying, perfectly framing his features as he blinked into the stars of the night.
As you took in the view of him and the rest of his backyard, rolling your eyes at the wealth that stood around you. Typical Harrington and his perfect home.
“Okay, fuck this,” Robin sighed, huffing as she shut off the stereo. She rose from the lawn chair, slipping on her shoes that lay beside it. “I’m over this, I’m going to bed.”
She began walking towards the sliding door, ruffling Steve’s hair as she past him. You protested, kicking your foot in the water.
“You’re going home?” You asked, watching as she paused to speak to you.
“Gonna sleep in Steve’s parents room, they’re not home,” she shrugged, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head.
“Never home,” Steve muttered with a shake of his head, thinking it was under his breath as he took a drag of his cigarette. You glanced at him, brow crinkling slightly at his comment.
“Just come up whenever you’re tired, Yn.” Robin turned, muttering a “g’night” as she made her way into the house, sliding the door behind her.
You looked down at your feet, watching the way the water circled at your ankles. Sounds of water swirling and crickets chirping in the stickiness of the night were filling your senses. You almost forgot Harrington was there, the sound of his cigarette burning out in the water interrupting your thoughts.
You looked at him from where he flicked it in the water. He stared at the way the burned bud floated in the water, moving in small circles as it soaked up the water around it. He seemed to be in a trance, eyes unfocused as they squinted around his thoughts.
You turned your eyes towards your feet again, ignoring him. You didn’t care. He was still that same Steve you despised so much.
“You want to sit here?” Steve asked, pulling you from thoughts once more. “Waters gotta be cold.”
“Absolutely not.” You were stubborn, squaring in your shoulders as your defenses picked up. You heard him huff, breath long as he exhaled.
“Why the fuck are you so rude?” He snapped, your head quickly swiveling to look at him. He shook his head as his hand rested at his bent knee, he continued to stare into the water. The half empty cigarette box was being turned over and over in his grasp.
“Easy for you to say, Harrington,” you shot back, anger seething through you as you got out of the pool. Water dripped around your feet as you grabbed your shoes next to you. You began to storm past him, muttering curses at him. “Good fucking night, asshole.”
You stopped at his chair, glaring down at him as he looked at you, eyes shifting up in your direction as his head stayed centered. Warmth flashed over you as you imagined he looked just like The Fallen Angel in this moment, eyes rimmed red as his gaze cut into you.
You ignored the thought, leaning over him as you seethed, “I don’t know what you think this is, Harrington, but we are not friends. We'll never be friends. You made my life a living hell, and I will resent you for that for the rest of my life. These rumors painting you in good light makes me loath you even more.”
Steve scoffed at your words, getting up so he stood in front of you. You bit your tongue as he towered over you, breath heavy as he searched your face, your harsh words lingering in the air.
“I didn’t do anything to you,” he whispered, voice low as your heart thundered. You swore he could hear it as he glanced down your body. "I've been nothing but nice to you."
“Liar.” You shook your head, taking a step back as he took one in your direction.
“Okay,” he nodded his head, lips forming a frown. His hand reached up to pull at his hair, rolling his eyes as they closed with a sigh. He opened them, hand moving to rest at his hip. “Tell me then, what did I do that was so bad for you, Yn.”
“You know.”
He shook his head, not taking that answer. He remained silence.
“You know,” your voice cracked, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.
He shook his head again, tilting his head as he examined you. His own eyes blinked rapidly, jumping back and forth between the two of yours.
You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. All of the anger dissipated, sorrow filling your chest instead.
“You let Tommy torment me, you let him say what he did about me and all of his stupid friends,” your voice was fragile, volume moving up and down as your words came out. “You might not have said anything, but that’s the worst part, Steve. You were a bystander during the worst times of my life, and you didn’t. Do. Anything.”
Your finger punched at his chest with every word, emphasizing your point. Steve looked down at the assault of the digit, grabbing it between his fingers at the last word.
His touch burned your skin, a feeling that felt so wrong, but so right at the same time.
“You’re absolutely right,” Steve agreed with you, fingers holding your hand tightly. “I was—I was terrible. I was a jerk, a coward, if you will.”
Your eyes looked up into his at his words, hearing him out.
“I’m not friends with him anymore. I met Nancy all that time ago, and things changed for me,” he continued, thumb rubbing circles over the skin. Your heartbeat quickened, glancing down at his movement. “I met Robin, and things only got better. That perception you have of me is so different. So, so different than me now.”
He left go of your hand, watching as it dropped to your side. Steve was only inches away from you, the left over tobacco scent mixing with the detergent of his clothes.
A single tear streamed down your face, your hand shooting up to wipe it away. His gaze softened, shaking his head at you.
“It appears King Steve has dropped his crown,” he muttered, earning a small laugh out of you. You dropped your head, stepping back as a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.
Steve’s laugh followed your own, chuckling low as yours picked up. The two of you stood there laughing at each other, an ache in your side forming as you realized the ridiculous situation you were in.
You both quieted down, staring at each other as the moonlight filled the sky above you. The buzzing of the porch light filled the air.
Steve’s eyes were huge in this lighting, his long lashes curled up towards his brows. The small pout of his lips were wet from his tongue darting out, licking at the skin. Moles dotted his skin, cheeks full as joy crossed his features.
You could see him in this light, for who he truly was. That asshole image may have lingered in the back of your mind, but you could see that he was truthful in his speech.
“I may miss him, you know,” you said, looking at your feet as the words came out. “King Steve.”
You glanced up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. His eyes were dark again, mouth pressed into a thin line.
“Oh?” You couldn’t pull the emotion off of his face, a mask placed over it.
You nodded, continuing, “I never got to know him the way most people did.”
Smirking at your words, you turned towards the house and walked up towards the sliding glass door. You didn’t bother looking back at him, opening up the glass as you stepped through muttering a goodnight as you entered the house.
It was dark in there, the only light illuminating was the one hanging over the staircase. The image of the look on Steve’s face burned in your mind, how his dark eyes reflected the moonlight. As you trekked up the stairs on your way to meet Robin, you couldn’t help but think that you took things too far at the end. You’ve hated him all this time, why all of a sudden did you want to mess with his head about the idea of King Steve ?
Reaching the end of the hall, your hand reached for the doorknob, stopping in its place as you heard footsteps running up the stairs, fast in their pace.
Your brow furrowed, turning towards that direction as you watch Steve ascend the stairs, turning the corner to the hall in your direction. He was slightly out of breath, colored in the cheeks.
“You want to?” He blurted out, fast paced with his words. You were confused.
“Huh?”
He was crossing the distance to you, eyes determined on yours. Your hand was still placed on the doorknob, grip loose.
“Harrington, what are you talking ab-”
Your words were cut off as Steve closed the distance, crashing his mouth into yours. His hands came up to rest on the sides of your face as your eyes shot open in surprise at the intrusion. Your hand left the doorknob, resting at his chest to push him away.
“What the hell was that,” you exclaimed, finger digging in his chest. Smiling at you, his hands still present on your cheeks as he tugged at his bottom lip.
He made a shushing motion with his lips, stepping closer to place his mouth on yours again. You didn’t protest, fluttering your eyes shut as his mouth began to move into yours, molding into the perfect shape.
His mouth was soft, tongue darting out to lick between your lips, an urgency as you were pulled into him. One of his hands left your face, finding your waist to press his torso into yours. Huffing, the firmness of his body against yours left you breathless as you leaned up into the kiss.
He pulled away, placing two quick pecks to yours before placing a step back. The absence of his hands on your body left a chill throughout your spine. Eyes glazed over, you blinked at him, tongue running over the feeling of him on your lips.
Steve was smug, hands on his hips as he smiled at you. Your mouth flapped open and close, not finding the words to say to him in that moment. You should be repulsed at him, that was your first thought, but you couldn’t be bothered.
“I-I don’t know what to say.” Your fingers came to brush at your mouth, looking anywhere but him. It was the first time you had been shy around him. You were starting to understand the Harrington Effect.
“You don’t need to,” he rushed, crossing the distance to you one last time to crash his mouth into yours.
He pulled you into him simultaneously pushing you into the wall next to the doors of his parents room. Your body hit it with a full yet loud thud, not caring about waking Robin in the moment.
Your mouth moved in sync with Steve’s, hands coming up to mess up its perfect style and leg curling up to rest at his upper thigh. He moaned into your mouth as his hands gripped your ass, pulling your hips into his.
This is wrong, you found yourself thinking as Steve pulled away to mouth at your neck. He sucked bruises into the delicate skin, fingers digging into your flesh. Your hands roamed free, wildly pulling at his belt his teeth grazed your earlobe.
His bulge ground into the fabric of your jean shorts, leaving you breathless as you fumbled with his buckle.
“S-Steve,” you panted into his hair, arching into his grasp.
You felt the smug fuck smile at your neck, breath sending a chill down your spine. “So needy, baby.”
The nickname had you mewling, panting even further as once of his hands came to help with you the buckle. He freed himself, leather straps hanging at his waist as he unbutton the jeans, pulling the zipper down.
Your hand reached inside, grabbing his heavy cock. You both gasped at the feeling, Steve throwing his head back at the sensation of you tugging at him under his pants. The sounds echoing through the air were filthy—Steve groaning, the wet slickness of your hand on his cock, your dirty words of affirmation flowing out of your mouth.
His hand came to rub at you through your shorts, the thick material making you see stars. Your own head hit the wall, the thud louder than before.
“Shhh baby,” he muttered, pushing them to the side as his fingers brushed over your clothed opening. He smirked at you, low groan escaping his mouth as you were already dripping wet. You huffed, squeezing at the base of his cock in retaliation, feeling the way his hips jutted out.
“C-can’t wake Robin,” he gasped, hips moving rhythmically in sync with your strokes. His head was dripping wet, the inside fabric of his underwear soaking it up.
You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, the thick jean and thin material of your underwear pushed to the side. They brushed your folds, collecting slick as he applied pressure to the sensitive bud.
“Need you, Steve, fuck,” your face was twisted in pleasure, core throbbing as he continued to tease you. The look on his face let you know he was falling apart at your touch too, brow furrowed as his bottom lip was sucked into his mouth.
He removed himself from you, tucking the exposed part back into his pants. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you down the hall, leading to an open door. He pushed you inside, shutting it behind him as he pushed you down on the bed.
You bounced, half smiling as you rid yourself of your shirt, throwing it across the room. The jeans shorts followed, leaving you exposed in your bra and panties.
Steve stood at the end of the bed, gaze roaming over your figure as that familiar dark look took over his features.
“The things you’re doing to me,” he breathed, crossing his arms at his waist as he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest, littered with hair at the top, made a rush of heat go straight to your core.
Your eyes followed his hands, watching as they pulled down his jeans, still unbuttoned from the hallway. His boner pushed at the front of his boxers, wet patch present as the material tented.
His eyes followed your eyeline, smirking at you as he saw your legs subconsciously opening wider. Your hand came down to rub between your legs, the panties becoming stickier with each passing moment.
“You want me to show you, baby?” His voice was taunting, leaning over the bed to make his slow crawl over your body. You nodded, eyes big with desire as you felt his heat over you. “Say it.”
“I-I want you t-to show me, Steve,” you moaned, free hand reaching up to grab at his neck. He stopped its movement, hand loose at the wrist as he sucked his teeth.
"Ah ah ah, say it again." His low voice had you falling apart, wetness pooling between your thighs.
"I want you to show me, Steve." Clearer this time, you arched into him spreading your legs so he lay between. He smirked and let go, leaning down to briefly kiss your lips before making his way down your neck.
The urgency you felt in your body contradicted his slow, languid movements. You felt the admiration in his movements, teeth nipping at your skin lightly, his tongue soothing over the marks. He made his way down, kissing over what seemed like every inch of you.
As he spread your legs, he maintained eye contact with you, hair falling into his eyes. His fingers rested at the waistband of your panties, mouth pressing light kisses over your clit. The fabric was thin enough to feel the heat of your breath, and it had you mewling.
"You're so beautiful, Yn," he whispered as he pulled the piece of fabric off of you. Your hand reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, leaning up on your elbows so you could get sight of him.
His tongue darted out, licking at your clit as you exhaled deeply. Your hips jutted out, trying to feel the full heat of his mouth as his tongue gave you tiny licks, teasing you. Steve's smirk grew, arm resting at your waist to hold you down.
"'M just getting started, my love."
He began to suck at you, tongue dipping in and out of your folds as one of his fingers found your entrance, pushing in. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, moaning at the taste of you.
It was heaven watching him. Seeing the way his face was pushed into you, fingers moving in and out of you with a fever. They curled inside of you, toying at the bundle of nerves deep in your walls. Clenching around him, your hips began to stutter, the weight of his arm adding a pressure that made your head feel light.
Bliss approached you, slowly then all at once. You swore you blacked out for a moment, vision going white as he licked you through the pleasure. Your breath was fast, chest heaving as that familiar over stimulation worked its way through your thighs.
Steve pulled away, satisfied with your unraveling. He licked the taste of you off of his lips, rising to his knees as he pulled his boxers down. His cock sprung free, dark red at the head as it dripped in desperation.
His hand came to stroke himself, squeezing small drops of precum out of the head.
"Steve," you groaned, hand reaching to grab at him. His hips angled towards your reach, he groaned as you made contact. You gave him short strokes, focusing your attention at the head.
"You wanna give me a little taste, sweetheart?" His sweet words of affirmation had you soaked with anticipation once again, a nod coming in reply. You repositioned yourself, lying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows as you licked at his head.
A low groan escaped him, hand coming to rest at the back of your head. You took him in your mouth, lips stretching over his girth as you opened up for him.
His hand pushed on your head, forcing down some of the length that you felt shy in taking. You sucked at him, looking up at him falling apart with small thrusts of his hips into your mouth. His head was angled to the side, eyes closed as you saw them move behind his lids. His mouth was open, free hand gripping at the roots of his hair.
He looked beautiful in this light, chest glistening as a sheen of sweat covered him. His hand guided your mouth, feeling the suction of your lips over his shaft. The way his hips stuttered into you had you choking, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.
"M not gonna last, baby," he muttered, removing himself as you looked up at him. Steve glanced down at himself, seeing the way his cock shone with the glistening of your spit.
His eyes rolled, teeth digging into his bottom lip at the sight. You understood the feeling, the both of you being so turned on, it fucking hurt.
"Turn around for me." Rising to your hands and knees, you positioned yourself, arching your back. Blind to his movements, you heard him shuffle behind you, warm hands gripping at your waist that sent a shock to your spine.
His cock nudged at your entrance, a burn coming as he stretched you open. A high moan escaped your lips, hips running from the intrusion. His hands pulled you right back, cock pushing in even further.
"Shh, baby," he whispered, running his hand up your spine to soothe you. "It'll be okay."
You nodded, looking back over your shoulder at him admiring the way you stretched over him. As he pushed in further, the stretch burned even more. The pain was soothed away by the rubbing of his hands and the words of encouragement he gave you.
"'S okay," he muttered, pushing to the hilt. "I'm right here, baby."
Your knuckles were shaking as you gripped the sheets below you. Your eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping your lips.
"All right here, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you." His hips reared back before pressing in again, your back arching as pleasure flowed through your body.
"Steve, fuck," you moaned his name, feeling the way he pushed into you over and over, movements slow. He grabbed onto your hips, fucking into you as the sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room.
"You're taking it so good, my love."
His words had you gasping, hips shooting back to meet his movements half way. Seeing the effort you gave him back, his thrusts became faster, fucking into you with a passion.
Steve's words continued praising you, I love to see you falling apart and feels good, baby? and take it, you love my dick so much. You were panting his name, the only word you could focus on.
That pleasure arched up your spine once more, legs shaking with the promise of release. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, falling to the bed as Steve followed you to it. His large stature hung over your body, fucking you through your high.
You couldn't help, but press your face into the mattress, pleasure rippling through you as his movements quickened. You felt him approaching his own high as his words became short, breath raising a pitch.
"F-fuck, Yn," his voice was even an octave higher, face pressing in between your shoulder blades. His thrusts were irregular, slamming into you as the entire bed rocked. "Gon-gonna cum, baby, f-fuck, you did so well."
He released into you, pressing deep as you felt him fill you up. The warmness of his cum made you moan again, the thick liquid threatening to spill out the sides of his cock deep within you.
"Such a good job," he whispered to you before pulling out, collapsing next to you. He lay on his back, hand reaching out to rest at the small of your back.
You turned your head towards him, blinking slow as you took in the mess of the man. His hair was sticking to his face, cheeks red, and wetness around his mouth. He stared back at you, smirk ever present.
"I still hate you, Harrington," you whispered to him, noticing the way your legs felt numb. Sensing the irony in your words, you felt him leak out of you. A grimace crossed your face.
He laughed out loud, winking at you. He leaned to press a kiss to your nose, watching the way it crinkled under his touch.
"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."
You hid your smile in the sheets, rolling your eyes shut. Happiness warmed your body, the lingering effects of your orgasm. A gnawing feeling came to your heart, chest pounding for a different reason. You had fallen for it, the typical Harrington charm. At that moment, you tried not to tell yourself that things may be different, thinking of his words earlier.
He was different than before, however, the thoughts of King Steve still plagued your mind. This couldn't end well, Steve doesn't end well. You opened your eyes, finding him still staring at you.
"You know, I meant what I said, right?" He asked you, seemingly reading your mind. You blinked at him, ready to push that hard exterior forward. "I am different than I was."
Warmth filled your chest, hope bubbling at the surface.
"I don't know if I believe you," you whispered, voice sounding small in the big room. He pressed his lips together, mouth dropping at the corner.
"Let me show you," he replied, hand coming to brush the hair behind your ear. "Let me do that at least."
Hesitation came over you, silence filling the air between you. A few moments passed as he searched your eyes for any sign of emotion. It was like you had an angel and devil on each shoulder, warning you yet jumping for joy at the same time.
You slowly nodded, a sigh escaping your lips. Steve beamed at you, eyes squinting with the smile.
"I swear, Harrington, if you do anything to fuck me over, I will murder you," you shook your head, not believing you'd give him a chance. He leaned over again, pressing another kiss to your lips this time. His smile was contagious, you fought it back.
"Is that a promise?"
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spenceobsessed · 2 months
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post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader
genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot
summary: spencer can't help but despise his "replacement", especially during an undercover mission in a nightclub.
MDNI 18+
“this is insane.” penelope garcia mutters on the other end of the phone call. “there’s no way jeffery was able to absolutely take himself off the internet.” she huffs, the keyboard clicking in the background. “i’m gonna keep working. i’ll be back in a jiffy, i swear!” she says sweetly before hanging up.
the unsub, jeffery hogan had abducted then murdered four young women in los angeles california. the team had been in la for three days now, and jeffery had already killed two more women before they could stop him. all of them were getting antsy and a little angry.
you sigh, leaning back in your chair as the rest of the team begins talking amongst themselves, minus spencer, who had been staring at a map for twenty minutes.
“reid.” you say, catching his attention. he doesn’t look up, but you can tell that your voice startled him slightly.
“hmm?” he says, annoyance lacing his tone. you roll your eyes. he had been an absolute dick to you since day one. the whole team had described him as a saint, yet, you couldn’t see it. yes, he was attractive, but that didn’t distract from how hateful he was towards you. plus, you had been nothing but nice to him when you first met him, doing nothing to get on his bad side.
“did you make a connection between the locations?” you ask curtly. he huffs. “i don’t see you doing anything helpful.” he snaps, finally looking up from his map to glare at you.
“spence,” jj begins, joining the conversation unknowingly. “any connections?” he smiles and turns to face her, like you hadn’t just asked the same question.
“the one common location that overlaps with all the crime scenes and significant places in jeffery’s life is the ‘night owl’, a local night club.” reid says, smirking at you when he finishes his sentence like a teenager. you scoff.
emily gives them a look that says “act professional please”.
“we have no idea what he looks like, we only know bits and pieces of his life that garcia could dig up, how are we going to catch him?” matt asks, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, a coffee in hand.
“i could go undercover,” you begin with a shrug. “most of the girls he abducted have been around my age and have my same features.” emily nods in agreement.
“one issue.” rossi says. “the unsub has always abducted women on dates.” you nod. that’s true.
“i could go with you.” matt says, standing up straight and taking a sip of his coffee. you open your mouth to thank him but emily cuts you off.
“no offense simmons, but what if we sent in reid instead? he closer matches y/n’s age and resembles the victims boyfriends more closely.”
spencer opens his mouth to protest but tara cuts him off with a smile. “great idea, you guys should leave in an hour or so, you better start getting ready.”
you watch as reid fights the urge to say something rude, but is quickly whisked away by emily.
jj helps you get ready in another conference room of the precinct, dressing you like the average clubber.
your outfit is a small, tight, red mini dress, with matching heels and accessories. you had to admit, you looked good. you found yourself wondering what they had put reid in and whether he would find you attractive in this tight dress.
“you look amazing.” a voice breaks you out of your trance as you’re putting in an ear piece. you smile, turning to face emily.
“thank you.” you say softly, using your hands to smooth out your dress. “i think i’m ready.” you add, slightly nervous. emily reassures you that you will do great and asks you to follow her outside.
that’s where you’re met with spencer reid. he looks unfortunately handsome, hot even, wearing the most casual “spencer outfit” you have ever seen: corduroy pants, converse, and a white button down. the white button down was sheer linen (very beachy) and allowed you to barely see his chest. you quickly remind yourself that he is in fact a dick, hoping that will somehow make him less attractive.
you watch as his eyes wander your body. emily seems to notice and clears her throat.
“you guys gotta get going.” she breathes out a smirk on her face.
reid walks over to the side of the car. you smile slightly as he opens the door, your smile fading as he slides in alone slamming the door behind him.
“petty bitch.” you mutter. your heels angrily clicking against the asphalt as you walk to the other side of the suv, ripping open the door and sliding in with your arms crossed. you slam the door behind yourself, eyes glaring into the side of reid’s face.
“look,” you begin, your tone angry. “if this is going to work you need to at least try to pretend not to be a fucking asshole.” he scoffs, turning to face you.
“watch your tone.” he says lowly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. your arms are still crossed and you watch as spencer’s eyes go from your face to your tits, then back up again.
you remind yourself that indeed, he's just a man. he may be a genius but behind that, he’s simply just a man with needs. you were going to make tonight hell for him.
you smirk, eyes glaring into his. “do your fucking job and i just might comply, doctor.”
he turns his head away from you, staring out the window, a new type of tension in the air.
“can you guys hear me?” jj says through you ear pieces. “yeah.” reid says, you can hear how angry he is, just through one word.
the team gives you both a rundown and reminds you both of your parts.
“…remember you’re a couple!” garcia reminds you. the team agrees loudly on the line. “yeah,” alvez says. “pretend to like each other for one night.”
“we’ll try, alvez.” you reply as the suv pulls up in front of the busy nightclub.
you look over at reid. “open my damn door and look like you fucking mean it.” you say through gritted teeth. he doesn’t respond as he steps out of the car, shutting his door quietly and makes his way over to your side of the car. he opens your door with a fake smile on his face, putting out his hand for you to grab. you get out of the car, leaning in to whisper in his ear.
“grab my waist.” you demand. he huffs under his breath, reaching his large hand to rest on your waist. he leans in to whisper back. “you will not dictate this night. i have over ten more years of experience than you, on this team. you do not get to boss me around, y/l/n.” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from your ear with a fake smile on his face. you don’t have time to respond as he says; “let’s go, baby.”
the nickname hits you like a brick, especially the way it comes out of his mouth so effortlessly. in an attempt to control your composure, you smile and lean against him as he rubs his hand lovingly across your waist.
you both enter the night club, the mix of bright lights and darkness temporarily blinds you as you grip onto spencer for support.
“don’t respond, but we see you’ve made it inside. go grab a drink from the bar then hit the dance floor.” emily orders. spencer nods, leading you towards the busy bar.
as you approach the bar, the bartender asks what you both want. “i’ll have a club soda with lime.” spencer says, turning his head to look down at you. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, rubbing circles on your waist softly. you smile back up at him pretending like you don’t want to kill him and subtly dig your ass into his crotch. he sucks in a breath.
“i’ll have a vodka soda.” you say with a sweet smile on your face. the bartender nods going to make the drinks.
you look back at spencer, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy. you set your phone down on the bar and “accidentally” knock it off of the counter.
“oops!” you say dryly, bending down to pick it up, your ass now rubbing against his crotch. you subtly feel something twitch in his pants.
“y/n.” he warns you. you nod innocently. “hmm?” you hum. he moves his hand from your waist. you look back at him to silently scold him, but he quickly uses both hands to push you away from his crotch. he slides his hands down your waist, to your ass, then pulls down your dress in one quick motion. a man standing to his left begins complaining loudly about how he can no longer see your "fattie". you almost thank him, then remember that its fucking spencer you're dealing with.
he doesn’t say anything and simply hands you your drink, leading you away from the bar and the creepy men, to a nearby table.
you bite your lip to hold back hateful words that dare to spill out. you stand in silence, spencer sipping his drink while you chug yours.
"you look miserable." emily says in your ears. "do something." she adds.
"wanna dance, pretty boy?" you ask him, the nickname falling from your mouth accidentally. you pretend like it was on purpose as spencer looks up from his drink, slightly stuttering over his response.
"y-yeah, yeah." he repeats, regaining his composure. he grabs your hand and leads you towards the crowd of sweaty people dancing, only looking back once to make sure you were still there
spencer scans the crowd as he pulls you into his chest harshly.
"i'm not just some doll you can throw around, reid." you yell over the music, sick of his bullshit. he looks you in the eyes and shrugs.
as the song changes, couples around you begin to make out.
"kiss me, reid." you say, realizing the awkward dancing in a crowd of horny couples would defer the unsub's attention. spencer doesn't seem to hear you. "reid." you repeat, his eyes still scanning the room. "spencer." you say, the first time you've ever said his first name to him. this catches his attention. his gaze finally falls to you, his frame towering over yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.
"i need you to kiss me, spencer."
the usually dick-ish man makes no cocky response. instead, he simply tips his head down capturing your lips in a kiss. the kiss is awkward at first, but quickly turns heated as you press your body against his. his hands, which were loosely on your waist move downward, rubbing circles on your ass and somehow moving you closer to him.
you run your hands through his hair, feeling him moan softly into your mouth. his sweet noises immediately go straight to your now-wet-core. you break the kiss for a second, to catch your breath, your faces still inches apart.
spencer's pupils are blown, his hair is messy, and his lips slightly swollen, tinted red from your lipstick. fuck, you want to devour him.
spencer quickly resumes the kiss, this time you don't have to ask. you easily feel how hard he is already, with his cock pressed against your leg.
you groan softly as you push your tongue into his mouth, eliciting more sweet noises from the handsome man.
"nice job guys, we have a suspect at 3 o'clock." emily says into our ears, reminding us that we aren't alone.
“let’s go somewhere more secluded.” spencer whispers, his breath hot on your cheek. he wants to lure the unsub out. you nod, waiting for him to move. instead his hands are still on your ass, his eyes on you, like he’s taking a mental picture.
“pretty boy.” you say almost inaudibly. “let’s go.” he spins you around so you’re in front now, able to maneuver your way out of the crowd. one of his hands rests on the small of your back protectively as you head towards the back corner of the club, a stark contrast to the way he was treating you less than 10 minutes ago.
“the hypothetical unsub’s eyes are still on you guys but he hasn’t moved, we can’t seem to see his face on camera. you need to get him to move closer.” jj announces in your ears.
“she’s telling us to kiss again.” you whisper. he nods, placing his large hand on your cheek and swiping his thumb across your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into kiss him. he picks you up slightly, just enough to allow you to sit on him as he takes a seat on a random couch.
as he moves from kissing your lips to your jaw and neck, you instinctively begin rocking your hips against his, feeling how hard he is under you.
he groans softly against your neck, his kisses becoming sloppier.
“y/n.” his tone desperate, the use of your first name alarming. “if you keep going i might not be able to maintain professionalism.”
you bite your lip excitedly. “do you want me to stop then, spencer?” his eyes stare into yours, his hands on your hips.
“no.” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him and kissing you again. he moves his hands upwards as his lips move downwards, slowly leaving kisses and rubbing your now-visible nipples through the thin fabric for your dress. you suck in a breath at the new sensation, your head thrown back in ecstasy.
“the unsub moved into the light, it’s jeffery. sending alvez and rossi in now to apprehend him. you guys can stand down, nice work.” emily says, startling them slightly. you pull away from spencer, your underwear undeniably wet and your cunt begging for attention. you awkwardly remove yourself from his lap, sitting next to him on the sofa, noticing that in fact he was hard, an outline of his dick highlighted in the odd club lighting. he squirms in his seat slightly, obviously trying to readjust.
“y/n,” he says, noticing your eyes on him. you hum in response, your eyes moving from his cock to his face. “bathroom.” he says simply.
he doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond, simply getting up and leaving the room. you wait for a few seconds, processing his words and attempting to wrap your head around the fact that an hour ago you hated this man and now you were dying for him to fuck you.
a few minutes pass and you make your way to the bathroom where you don’t even knock, you simply walk in. spencer is there waiting. immediately as you enter the bathroom, he locks it, then attached his lips to yours. you moan softly into the kiss, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. he, however, seems to as other plans as he sets you down on the sink and lowers himself between your legs.
he leaves soft kisses up your thighs, your legs now thrown over his shoulders. “spencer,” you beg, his lips dangerously close to your cunt. “please.”
he smiles as you beg, hooking his finger on your underwear and pulling them down your legs roughly. he lowers his head farther in between your legs, licking a slow stripe down your cunt, causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and moan.
hearing your reaction, spencer moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp.
unfortunately the club music had been turned off and if anyone were to walk by, they would probably hear you making sounds. you cover your mouth with your hand to make sure you guys don’t get caught.
he moves his tongue farther into you, the sound of his mouth on your soaking wet cunt making lewd sounds that fill the small bathroom.
you moan into your hand, bucking your hips against his face.
he pulls his mouth away from you and without skipping a beat he inserts one of his large fingers into you, grinding his crotch against the edge of the sink to get himself off.
you open your mouth to tease him but he interrupts you by adding another finger into your pussy. you can’t help but moan loudly, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.
“so good for me.” he says breathlessly, his fingers’ pace rough inside you and his hips fast against the sink counter.
“spencer,” you say in between ragged breaths. “i’m so close!” he smiles at your words, removing his fingers from your pussy with a pop.
you groan softly, hating the feeling of emptiness.
“spencer.” you warn, sitting up to get a good look at him. he has a look in his eye, a smirk on his face.
“what’s up?” he says nonchalantly, licking you off his lips and his fingers. you ask yourself how he can be so calm when he was literally just finger fucking you and eating you out. his cock is still dangerously hard, a spot of pre-cum on his cute little pants. you catch yourself imagining how big he is.
“fine.” you huff, seeing how he didn’t seem like he wanted you to finish. you insert your own fingers into your swollen cunt, pumping them inside yourself like spencer had been only a minute ago.
you over exaggerate your moans watching as spencer begins to rub himself through his now tight pants.
“i’m not going to beg you, pretty boy, but i need your cock inside of me right now.” he smirks at your words, making his way back over to you, hands moving to your face, kissing you passionately.
“i’m pretty sure that was begging, y/n.” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, beginning to unbutton his pants.
however, loud knocks interrupt him. "spencer?? are you in there??" emily's familiar voice, fills the room.
"uh, yeah! i'll be out in a second!" he says, beginning to re-button his pants, his cock still visibly hard. emily says something inaudible from the other side of the door then walks away. you lean forward on the sink counter, resting your head on spencer's shoulder, his arms wrapping around you.
after a second of peace, you hop of the counter in an attempt to fix your appearance, sliding back on your awkwardly soaked underwear.
"can we please finish this later?" spencer speaks up, catching you off guard. you smile, your brain still processing the fact that an hour ago you wanted to kill this man.
"yes, please."
part 2 :)
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clumsy-jiminie · 1 month
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ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx
❝ ꜱᴡᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴄʏ ❞
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↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.
↣ rating :: 18+
↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn
↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!MC ft. taehyung
↣ word count :: 4.9k
↣ chapter warnings :: mature language, alcohol consumption
↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢
if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖
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"that face, baby, it ain't fair. but what you don't know, don't know. don't know—I eat boys like you for breakfast."
- breakfast, dove cameron -
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Kiara interlaced her fingers with Taehyung's, loving how his hand swallowed hers. She leaned into him as they walked along the bricks placed in an intricate design that led to their neighbor's front door. Ever since their revelation the other night, she felt closer to him. That hazy vision of a ring on her finger was getting more apparent by the day. Even so, she still couldn't fathom willingly being in the same space as Jimin.
"Remember to try," Taehyung mumbled to her as he knocked on the front door. She sighed deeply, and he gave her hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze. In seconds, the door swung open. A grinning Hoseok greeted them, his smile also spreading to their faces.
The last time tonight Kiara would genuinely smile.
"I'm so glad you guys made it!" He beamed as he pulled them both into a hug, one arm wrapping each body.
The couple chuckled softly. "As if we'd miss it," Taehyung said as he led them inside. Hoseok took their coats, placing them in a nearby closet. 
The Jung's home always felt so warm and cozy. They had a shabby chic vibe going; white furniture to compliment the light brown wooden floors and beige colored walls. There were pops of colors here and there, like the bright yellow throw they had hanging off the couch that matched the yellow-themed paintings they hung over the TV. There were little potted planters meticulously placed on various shelves and surfaces. It felt like a home, their home. 
Kiara instantly spotted Momo as she returned from a hallway with an armful of blankets and pillows. She tied half of her midnight hair in a cute ponytail while the rest gently brushed her shoulders as she walked. As soon as Momo looked at Kiara, the broad smile on her blush-stained lips faded, and concern flooded her innocent features. She approached the girl, spotting Kiara's fake smile from a mile away.
"What's wrong?" She whispered, eyes peering around for Hoseok.
"I don't wanna be here," Kiara whispered, her lips frozen in a smile. She was trying, honestly dreading the moment when Blondie made his appearance. But she wasn't going to lie to her friend.
"Why?" Momo's brows furrowed as her eyes finally caught Hoseok's. He was smiling, entertaining his guests, but his glances were worrisome. He raised a thumbs up, and Momo nodded, not wanting to worry her significant other.
"Yo! Hoseok, can you—" Out from the kitchen walked the man of the hour, and his eyes automatically latched to Kiara's. Her smile dropped so quickly that her body couldn't keep up the facade. While she glared at him, Jimin shared a smile that seemed genuine. It caught Kiara off guard, her glare wavering as he looked at Hoseok. 
"That's why." As she mumbled to Momo, it felt like she had to convince herself they were on bad terms for a second. Her brows furrowed as she bit down on her lower lip momentarily.
"Can you guys help me bring out the snacks? I may have brought too much," Jimin chuckled, making Kiara's lips twitch. The men agreed in unison before following Jimin like ducklings.
As soon as the coast was clear, Momo grabbed Kiara's wrist and pulled her towards the couch. She tossed all the pillows and blankets before sitting the girl down on the ground. "Spill." She looked at the other, protection flickering like a freshly started fire in her eyes.
Kiara loved Momo dearly, but she sure was terrifying when she entered mother mode. "Do you remember the guy I told you about? The one from the coffee shop?" Kiara asked, the moment still vivid in her memory. She hated how his stupid face made a home in her mind. Like that one annoying cousin who invades your couch for a little too long, there Jimin was with that stupid perfect smile.
Momo nodded, remembering Kiara's colorful rant in the group chat, followed by several well-placed memes. She pulled out the game Cards Against Humanity from under the coffee table and started to set it up neatly.
"That was him."
Momo gasped loudly, "What?!" Kiara quickly silenced the girl. Their kitchen was close enough to be heard easily. "No way," Momo whispered, "he's such a nice guy! I've seen him tell off assholes politely."
"Maybe he saves all his rage for unexpected victims, like people he spills coffee on," she grumbled as she played with the zipper on her jacket. She swallowed suddenly, eyes fixed on her fingers. "He's mad I rejected him and won't get over it. And he's fucking everywhere. The gallery, the grocery store, even here!"
"Well, I'm kinda to blame for the last two places," Momo sheepishly admitted as she fiddled with one of the blankets. Kiara stared at the girl, waiting for her to continue. "He's my boss."
Momo's eyes met the others, staring at each other in silence.
"You're lying," Kiara suddenly said. There's no way he's been intertwined in her friend group this whole time. Momo shook her head, prompting a loud groan to rip from Kiara's throat.
The fucking odds.
The men returned from the kitchen, arms filled with various snacks and drinks. Hoseok and another man carefully put everything on the table while Taehyung walked around to sit on the other side of Kiara.
"What's wrong?" He whispered to the girl. She shook her head, not wanting to get into it. From all he knew, they got off on the wrong foot with the clientele dinner. He didn't see it as a substantial reason to have so much grief with the person, but he knew how Kiara was and remembered how Jimin was—two very fickle people with just as inconsistent personalities. 
They'll get along eventually, he thought; the more I bring him around, the more they'll get used to each other.
Jimin lowered himself to the ground directly in front of Kiara. She glared at him with those lovely eyes full of flames. If she were Starfire, she would have obliterated him long ago. And yet, for some odd reason, it made the corner of his lips tug ever so slightly into a smile.
"It's nice seeing you here, Kiara." His smooth voice had the slightest hint of satisfaction. Was he excited for the night full of torture? She hated how he said her name, how his lips formed to pronounce the noun. She wanted to rid it from his vocabulary.
Kiara pressed her lips together, earning an elbow in the side from Taehyung. "Likewise," she forced a grin before leaning over to Momo. "Can I have some wine?" She whispered, feeling as if this night would go so much longer if she were sober. Game nights with just the four of them are usually fun and a highlight after a stressful week. But with this blonde around, he would permanently be a thunderstorm on her parade. Momo nodded, prompting her to spring out of her seat. She made a beeline to her kitchen, quickly finding her wine cooler. She poured herself a glass of red wine with hopes of babysitting the glass all night so that she wouldn't get too drunk.
Hoseok was keen on picking up the energy of a room, and he was surprised to find out there was tension between Kiara and Jimin. If anything, he was prepared for awkwardness as he would've had to introduce the two. He picked up the way Jimin looked at her, wondering if Taehyung also did. It wasn't his place, so he never addressed it. As Kiara returned to her seat, swirling the liquid crimson in her glass, Hoseok grinned at her.
"Ki, this is Namjoon, by the way."
Kiara's eyes met Namjoon's, offering him a heartfelt smile as she greeted him. She watched the large man sitting next to Jimin grow shy, looking down at the cards in his hands. She smiled fondly. Namjoon reminded her of Jeongguk for a second, specifically how these men twice her size could grow shy from a simple smile. It was adorable. 
After introductions, the games began. Since Jimin had a cordial act going, she decided trying couldn't hurt. It couldn't be that hard anyway. Some fake laughs here and there, maybe soften her eyes whenever she looked at him. It would be easier if he didn't always have such a smug look on her face. It's like he couldn't hide that he knew her secret.
As they played, Kiara sipped on her wine, laughing outrageously at the inappropriate and culturally insensitive answers they conjured up. Jimin, surprisingly, won a few cards from her, and she won a few from him. She never thought he was the dirty type—his head seemed way too far up his ass. It was a shame that he turned out to be an asshole. Their conversations and jokes seemed to flow together once the tension had subsided. They would've been great friends.
After three rounds, everyone slowly stopped playing and started to chat. Taehyung wrapped his arm around Kiara's shoulders as she leaned into him. The wine had settled into her system nicely, calming her and making her on the reserved side. Sometimes, she enjoyed taking a step back and watching everyone interact. She liked being in the moment, seeing their smiles and hearing their laughter. It warmed her and made her feel happy. She was one of the lucky few to find her people. She took her last sip and got up slowly to replace her glass. She didn't necessarily think she needed it, but she'd rather be safe than sorry. She felt relaxed and maybe a little heavy, humming to herself as she walked into the kitchen.
Feeling that some cheese would pair exceptionally well with her drink, she opened the fridge and stuck her head in. 
"So you know Hoseok and Momo, too, huh?" The smooth voice startled her, causing her to jump. She hit her head on the fridge shelf.
"Ow," she mumbled as she pulled her head out of the fridge. She looked over, seeing none other than the blonde. Her eyes instantly narrowed as she rubbed her head. "Yeah. I do."
He chuckled softly, white teeth beaming through his pink, plump lips. "Interesting. So they know about your double life, or am I gonna have to tell them?"
"First of all, you're under contract. If you say anything to anyone, I will sue." Her glare hardened at the man, pointing her finger at him as she spoke. Of course, why wouldn't their first conversation of the night be filled with threats? Appearance couldn't last that long, unfortunately. 
"Oooh, I'm so scared. Look at me! I'm shaking him my boots." A smirk played on his lips as sarcasm filled his tone, wrapping around his words gracefully. Like Kiara, he was fluent in the petty language. He filled the gap between them, taking deliberate steps as his arms folded over his chest. "I understand hiding your identity from fans and the public, but your close friends? Tsk." He shook his head, stopping a few feet from her. "Does your boyfriend even know?"
The alcohol in her system was nowhere near enough to deal with this. She felt anger bubbling up in her chest as she reached for the bottle from earlier. "Of course, he knows!" She rolled her eyes as she filled her glass once again. "You think I just bring him there for funsies?"
Jimin wondered if she could hear the slight slur in her words, watching as she filled her glass way past the appropriate amount. He said nothing, figuring he wouldn't have to do her the favor if she was drunk enough. "I don't know what you and your boyfriend do." He leaned against the counter. She could see how his arms subtly flexed underneath his white long-sleeve shirt. She tried to ignore it, focusing on resealing the wine bottle. "Honestly, he barely talks about you when we hang out."
Kiara's hands froze, her heart suddenly taking a cliff dive in her chest. His words were the loud beep that started the race of her thoughts. He doesn't talk about me to Jimin? She always thought men in love gushed about their partners. Regardless, she couldn't let Jimin see that his words created a whirlpool in her mind. She kept a blank face, finally closing the bottle. "Well, he has other things in his life, obviously."
Jimin shrugged his shoulders casually. "If that's what you want to believe."
"Why does it matter to you?" Her facade cracked instantaneously, snapping at the blonde while staring at his profile. She was growing to hate everything about him—from his stupid hair that looked great whether he styled it or not to his stupid lips that were too plump and frozen in a permanent pout. They looked soft, like being kissed by a cloud. She wondered if her hypothesis stood true.
Stop. 
She looked away, taking a large swig from her glass and drowning those other thoughts in the process.
"It doesn't, I'm just saying."
"You didn't need to say shit, though, and that seems to be your fucking problem." With her mask shattering under the alcohol, there was no point in holding back now. She looked at him again, his glare meeting hers. "You're always saying shit you should probably keep to yourself."
Jimin turned to face her fully. "I say what no one else has the guts to!"
"If that's what you wanna believe." She quickly mocked him, putting on a voice way higher than his own to watch his face twitch angrily.
He walked over to a cabinet, grabbing a bag of chips from inside. "You know, for a coward, you have quite a mouth on you."
There goes that word again. And just like before, Kiara had half a mind to drench his white shirt with red. It would be pretty, like something she's painted. Instead, she took another drink from her glass, ignoring how the bittersweet liquid warmed her chest as it went down. "Shhh," she voiced while putting a finger to her lips, "you wouldn't want your little friends catching a glimpse of the real you, Park."
"Why the fuck is Taehyung even with you?" The bowl he grabbed from the cabinet hit the counter with a loud thud. He turned around to face the dark-haired woman, and his brown eyes narrowed to slits as his voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "You're such a little shit."
"You came in here starting shit with me." Kiara nonchalantly shrugged as she leaned against the counter. She ignored how his words slashed into her self-esteem. She didn't want to think about the possibility of the jackass knowing something about her relationship that she didn't. He already knew too much.
"All I wanted to know was if your so-called best friends out there knew that you were a Hannah Montana wanna-be. I would hate to have something slip out."
"Oh, bullshit," she scoffed. "I don't know if you get off on holding secrets over people's heads or threatening blackmail," she suddenly began to walk towards him. Kiara crossed the width of the kitchen, closing the distance between them. Jimin stood his ground, arms folded over his chest as he ignored how seductive she looked approaching him. With a wine glass in one hand, her eyes lowered at him, hips swaying effortlessly in her baggy sweatpants. She looked like a fucking sin. "but it's a really gross look on you. Get a hobby."
He raised an eyebrow slightly, "How do you know my hobby isn't annoying you?"
She looked up and down at him, placing a hand on her hip as she tilted her head to the side. "Aww," she cooed, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips, "you really did mean it when you said you were a big fan."
Jimin's eyes went wide, feeling heat rushing to his face. Was he blushing from embarrassment, or because of how those eyes of amber looked up at him? He wanted to move his lips and say something just as snippy to keep hearing her voice, but he was too distracted. Kiara was close, dangerously close. Close enough that he could smell the bitter wine in her glass. Close enough that Jimin could easily catch a whiff of that addictive scent of hers. It was so sweet and subtle; it made him think things he shouldn't be thinking. She was his friend's girlfriend. But as she sipped her wine, the intoxicating liquid moistened her lips and made him curious for a taste. 
He never felt such conflicting feelings when looking at someone. Being in the public eye meant Jimin had to know what someone's intentions were. He had to be good at reading people before they even said a word to him for his protection. So, people around him fell into one of three boxes—friends, lovers, or enemies. He was rarely wrong due to mastering his craft for the past ten years. That was until he met Kiara. All the years of practice and knowledge were flushed down the drain within a week of knowing this woman. She was dangerous, and she knew it. She locked him into her gravitational pull, and no matter how hard he would try to resist, something in him just needed to be around her. He couldn't be the only one feeling this; she had to know, too. That's why she was doing all of this—teasing him without teasing him and looking at him like she wanted the same thing he was thinking. The universe threw her into his path for a reason, and he had to find out why.
She walked away from him, leaving that same sweet scent trail that tempted him to follow before. She felt proud that she managed to make the man who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut silent, even if it was for a few moments. She lowered herself back into her place next to Taehyung while Jimin sat across from her. He looked at them, watching as she cuddled into the dark-haired man with glaring eyes. Taehyung's brows furrowed as his eyes danced between the two. 
"So, has anyone seen Luna's newest collection?" Jimin's voice cut through the chit-chatter, demanding everyone's attention. His eyes remained glued to Kiara's, watching her golden skin drain of its color. She may have caught his tongue in the kitchen, but now the game was on. "It's a true beauty."
Kiara took a sip of her drink nonchalantly, despite her heart pounding so viciously that her hand gently trembled. She heard a small whimper, feeling something tugging at the material of her sweatpants. She didn't have to look, knowing the familiar child named Nerves had arrived. 
"Luna?" Hoseok questioned.
"I think I heard a little about her," Namjoon added as he looked at Jimin. "She's kinda like Banksy, right?"
"Yeah," Taehyung said as he subtly reached for Kiara's free hand, "but better, in my opinion." He gave her a light squeeze as he grinned, causing Kiara's heart to warm. Nerves started to loosen their grip, beginning to return to where they came from.
"I've been following them since debut," Jimin said casually, "but not once have they shown their face. They're completely anonymous." He glanced around, meeting everyone's eyes at least once before locking in on Kiara's. He leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper, "They could be anyone, even one of us." He looked away to take a sip of his drink. 
Kiara tried to exhale softly, Co2 leaving her system shakily as the anxiety rose again. She could feel Nerves wrapping their arms around her leg, crawling up her appendage until they took a swan dive into her abdomen. They bounced around, threatening to empty the contents of her stomach.
"Oooh, I love that!" Momo mused, clapping her hands in excitement. "A complete mystery artist. Do they hold art shows?"
Jimin nodded. "I just went to one a month ago. They're called A Luna Eclipse. That's where I ran into Kiara and Taehyung."
"A Luna Eclipse is such a sick play on words," Hoseok said while Namjoon ferociously typed away on his phone.
"Fuck, their art is so good," Namjoon commented as he scrolled through some pictures. "I have to get them in my gallery." Kiara raised an eyebrow slightly, making a mental note. She may send him a few pieces to test the waters. Just as she was going to open her mouth to ask more about him, someone promptly cut her off.
"What kind of art do they do?" Momo asked as she leaned over to peek at Namjoon's phone.
"Abstract paintings," Taehyung answered, "they use different mediums to create whatever they're feeling."
"Wow, these look right up your alley, Ki!" Momo practically ripped the phone from Namjoon and shoved it in Kiara's face. The girl laughed at the phone being too close to see anything correctly. "Do you have anything from them?"
Kiara shook her head, pushing the phone away from her face. "I can't afford to buy much when you're saving for a house."
"Then Taehyung should buy you a piece," Jimin added with a smirk just barely forming on his lips. "I could tell how much you adored them from the art show."
Taehyung let out an awkward chuckle while Kiara's gaze hardened at him. The game he was playing wasn't funny in the slightest. Did he get off making her so uncomfortable and on edge that it was killing her buzz? What was he trying to accomplish here?
"That would be such a nice birthday present!" Momo grinned while looking at Taehyung. "You have a few months to save up!"
Part of Kiara felt bad; Momo was such a pure soul, and lying to her for this long was almost physically hurt. It was something she had to do, though. There was no point in being anonymous if everyone knew.
And now Jimin had a spot on that short list.
"Yeah, I'll definitely consider it," Taehyung smiled softly.
"So, how is work going for you guys?" Kiara asked as she took advantage of the silence before Jimin could. She needed to switch the topic off of her for a while.
"I finally found a space to rent out for my gallery!" Namjoon suddenly beamed, a broad smile appearing on his lips. "It took a while, but this place is absolutely perfect. I already have a few artists who really speak to me, so all I have to do is wait for construction."
Everyone congratulated him, causing the man's ears to turn red. Kiara smiled fondly at him, cursing Jimin in her mind. She wanted to give a few pieces to Namjoon without asking for any profit. Aimee would kill her if she knew of this, and she didn't care. Seeing how Namjoon spoke so passionately about his goals inspired her. He deserved a few limited-edition paintings. He deserved something that set him apart from the rest.
"Jimin and I just made up some new choreo for class, and Jimin went trending on TikTok again," Hoseok said as he elbowed Jimin playfully.
The man glared at him. "Stop saying our accomplishments as if they're just a me thing! It's an us thing!"
"It was your post!"
Kiara remembered seeing that post on that faithful night of scrolling through TikTok when she definitely should've been sleeping—face illuminated by her phone screen, volume lowered to just above a whisper to not wake the sleeping man beside her. By the time she stumbled upon the video, it had already accumulated over 100k likes, even though he posted it just a few hours before. The high-tempo song was sped up from the original, yet he hit every beat effortlessly. He was a talented dancer, and it irked her to the core. The way he moved was captivating, almost hypnotizing. His body moved like flowing water, hitting every beat effortlessly. Somehow, he was both hard and soft, smooth and ridged. It was hard to look away, watching the 15-second video until she memorized the dance. If the song played, she would be able to do it with ease.
The 15-second video tempted her to go to Jimin's page and scroll through. For research purposes, obviously. Not because the way he moved was attractive or anything. She wanted to see if it was a fluke, like he got lucky and posted at the exact moment when some popular teenage girl stumbled upon it and showed it to all her friends. But she knew that wasn't the case. For the next couple of days, TikTok would recommend her videos of people recreating the dance under the hashtag Collide dance.
Momo rolled her eyes before lazily looking at Kiara. "This is what I have to deal with at work."
"Oh, how fun," she responded with a sarcastic smile.
"You should apply! And be the deal breaker because Momo refuses!" Hoseok chimed in.
"I don't wanna get in between that!" Momo exclaimed.
Kiara let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I keep telling y'all I don't dance professionally. You only see me on the dance floor when I already have a few drinks in my system."
"But you do dance?" Jimin asked, seemingly genuinely interested.
Kiara suddenly caught her breath in her throat. She didn't like when he looked at her like that—eyes drinking her in as they filled with curiosity. "I'm not applying for your job."
"That's fine; I wouldn't hire you anyway."
Hoseok let out a loud gasp while Taehyung attempted to hide his giggles. "Jimin!" Hoseok scolded.
"What?!" He looked at the silver-haired man with innocent eyes. "You know we have a strict hiring process!"
"You're always taking things so seriously. Both of you are." Momo said as she stood up, causing Kiara to shoot her a look. She started to clean up the various snacks and cups from the table. "You guys don't have a funny bone in your bodies?"
"Maybe she should take a one-on-one class with Jimin so they can both loosen up," Taehyung grinned while nudging Kiara. 
Jimin and Kiara both laughed obnoxiously. Momo and Hoseok locked eyes briefly. 
"That'll never happen," Kiara deadpanned.
"Why not?" Taehyung asked.
"She seems like she has two left feet like Namjoon, and I refuse to have that disaster of a class again," Jimin said as Kiara's jaw dropped.
"It wasn't that bad!" Namjoon said, suddenly sitting up from lying down.
"You managed to knock down four people with one move!" Jimin glared at the man, who now had a sheepish smile on his lips.
"It was quite impressive, though," Hoseok added as he gathered the cards.
"You're such an asshole," Kiara said as she shook her head. 
Namjoon loudly scoffed as he laid back down on the ground. "You can say that again."
"Aw, darling, it's just a joke. I think your left feet are cute," Taehyung grinned before kissing the side of Kiara's head. She fought the smile that wanted to form on her lips, opting to burn a hole into Jimin's soul instead.
"It's not a joke," Jimin started as he leaned back onto his hands. He mirrored the same glare at Kiara, a smirk tugging at his lips, "It's an observation."
"Jimin!" Momo called from the kitchen. 
"Yeah?!"
"Shut up!"
Everyone but Jimin shared a laugh as the man in question pouted his lips like a child. Kiara and Taehyung decided to call it a night soon after that. They bid everyone farewell, including a sneaky middle finger to Jimin from Kiara when Taehyung wasn't looking. The walk home was short and peaceful. It was a blessing to live close to your friends. Once they arrived home, they prepared quietly for bed, enjoying each other's presence.
"So what the deal with you and Jimin?" Taehyung asked as he put down his toothbrush, using a towel he grabbed to dry his face.
Kiara's eyes widened as she stared at him through their bathroom mirror. She stopped applying her skincare for a second. Her heart started to race at the sound of his name. "What do you mean?"
"You guys have this weird tension. Like, I know you guys dislike each other or whatever…, but…." He trailed off momentarily, chewing on his lower lip as he tried to figure out the right words. "That was a lot."
She let out an awkward chuckle. She didn't realize it was that obvious. She thought everyone would be so tied up in the game or conversations even to notice the growing hatred she and Jimin had for each other. "I told you he didn't like me."
"I know," he sighed as he leaned against the wall, watching as she finished her routine. "I've never seen him act that way towards someone, at least not openly. It's like you guys trigger each other."
"Cuz he doesn't know when to shut the fuck up."
Taehyung chuckled softly, following Kiara as she walked out of the bathroom. "What was that Luna thing about, too?"
Kiara sighed as she belly-flopped dramatically onto her side of the bed. "He's trying to ruin my life!" She yelled into the pillow before turning onto her side. "He hates my choice to stay unknown to the public, which includes some of our friends as well, and it just feels like I'm Spider-Man, and he's trying to unmask me around every corner. If I wanted to be fucking Tony Stark, I would be Tony fucking Stark!"
The man laughed at her analogy, realizing the wine she was drinking was catching up to her fast. He crawled into bed next to her. "He wouldn't do that to you, knowing it could end your career. He's too much of a fan of yours." Kiara let out a single cackle, cracking a smile on Taehyung's lips. "He's just teasing you in his own way. Watch, you two will be friends in no time."
"Yeah, aight. Maybe when I'm on my deathbed from the brain aneurysm he'll give me."
Taehyung shook his head, responding to a few messages on his phone before placing it on the nightstand. "You're so dramatic," he said lowly, reaching over to pull the woman into him. He snuggled in close, burying his nose in the crook of her neck before they drifted off to sleep.
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moneymasnn · 1 year
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Right Timing | Charles Leclerc
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Notes: 11k words of Charles and y/n pinning for each other…your all (hopefully) going to love it xx
this is my first post in about 6 months and I'm so happy to be back! thank you all for the continuous love and support I fucking love this app. this fic hasn't been proof read but oh well, ignore some spelling mistakes, sorry. anyways... ENJOY!!!
Blurb: One where you have a huge crush on your best friend's brother, the one and only charles leclerc, since you were a teenager, with him continuously telling you he was too old for you and you had no chance. You eventually gave up hope and moved on. But did charles? (Best friends brother troop/ slight enemy’s to lovers troop/ Older boy and younger girl)
Warnings: lots of angst, crying, sad y/n and sad Charles. lots of arguments and slight nsfw? but not really. Small age gap.
11.1k words
Arthur leclerc, your best friend since nursery… Your favourite partner in crime, your favourite laugh on a bad day, your favourite person in the whole wide world. Best to be described as home, your comfort person. He was the voice within reason, all that was right in the world. 
He's your best friend.
Y/n y/l/n, she was truly and utterly his favourite thing about the world. He counts his lucky stars he has her to help him carry his weight. Y/n was the only person Arthur let visit him when his dad died, and in his books, that made her alright. Sure she would make him want to scream and cry and punch walls, especially with her choice in men. But Arthur was always there for her, when she needed to laugh or to cry he knew what it was she needed at any given moment, he could read her like she was his favourite book. 
She was his best friend. 
How it started:
A little girl with puffy red cheeks sat at the bottom of the nursery playground. Her legs crossed on the green summer time grass as she sniffled again, gently plucking a daisy for the ground before adding it to the daisy chain she was making. She liked to say she enjoyed her own presence, but truly she was distracting herself from the lack of company. With the other young girls teasing her for her wild curly hair, she willingly chose to be sat on the grass of the playground alone.
“Hey! Can you teach me how you did that? I wanna make one for my mum!”
And with no regard for her personal space he sat down next to her on the grass, squashing half of her daisy chain, but she didn't tell him that.
He didn't care that she was crying or that she had poofy hair or that she was even a girl, he was eager to learn her talents and carry on with his lunch break.
But when Arthur noticed the signs that the girl was rather shy and sad he thought he would stay with her for the rest of lunch, keep her company.
Little did she know this company wasn't going anywhere any time soon.
And at age five, the pair promised to be friends for life.
It didn't take long for them to get their mothers talking, and after that it was set in stone, playdate after playdate. Arthur's mum became your mum's hairdresser, so there were many nostalgic memories for the two in the salon, especially when y/n would accompany her mother to her appointments. The pair's best memory is y/n letting Arthur cut her hair in the storage cupboard of his mum's shop. The horror on both parents' faces when one of y/n's pig tails were held in the hand of the young boy.
Their friendship only bloomed from there…
After spending almost every weekend watching Arthur and his older brother race in karts in the rain, to spending most afternoons around the leclerc residence playing with Arthur on his xbox, the girl felt like family.
When she was young she always found herself drawn to the middle leclerc. He was away a lot of the time, karting. He was slightly older so no doubt he found the pair childish and would always moan when he was made to spend time with them.
Charles' mother was the first to figure out your little crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the family on a winter skiing trip, you were around thirteen. It was your first time up in the mountains, so when your arms started to wave and you felt your body lean way too far back Charles did the only morally right thing, dropping the glove he was putting on and outstretching his body to catch you in time.
He didn't catch you in time. 
Instead his heroic act to save you turned into humiliation when he realised you had taken him down with you.
Pascal carefully watched as you turned around, her eyes glued to yours that were glued to her sons. She watched your tinted red cheeks as Charles scoffed and begged you to get off of him as his bare hands were now engulfed in the thick snow, causing him to suffer with a cold for the rest of the holiday.
Your eyes widened and sparked at the sight of him. You would gaze up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, an expression his mother would soon get used to as she watched you fall for her son over the next few years. 
Charles was older, and very uninterested. He didn't find your little crush as cute as everyone else did, the thought it made him look uncool. He would roll his eyes when you would grab his arm or duck when you would try to kiss his cheek. He hated when your families would go out for meals and you would sit next to him, or how you would call him after a race to congratulate him, no matter his result.
Charles always saw you as his little brother's best friend, nothing more and nothing less.
That was until your first boyfriend. A three year age gap wasn't that big of a deal as they all grew older. Charles found himself having mutual friends with his brother and would occasionally bump into Arthur and you at a party.
You were 16, you thought you had met the love of your life, an older boy, he was 18, around charles age who was now 19 and worming his way into f2. 
Arthur didn't approve of Joao. He knew you were trying to prove to charles that the age gap isn't that big of a deal after his brother had repetitively told you you were to young for him, but somewhere down the line you found yourself mesmerised by Joaos eyes and that was it for you, charles no longer rented the forefront of your mind.
Joao was great, at first. You knew he wasn't the love of your life, but for the moment he looked to play the role quite well, and you were happy. You just didn't expect it to end like it did, maybe age gaps do matter?
You were at some house party in the hills of monaco, some friend of Joaos. You were downstairs in the kitchen with Arthur as he watched you drink your body weight in alcohol. He could tell something was bothering you but he chose not to mention it. In all your years of friendship he knew you would come to him eventually. 
“Where is the lover boy anyway?” he spoke up.
Your lack of response is when Arthur clocked onto your boyfriend being the reason for your excessive drinking. Him ditching you, yet again.
You slammed down your empty red cup, wiping the dribble from your chin as you decided enough was enough and you looked for the presence of your boyfriend. 
Arthur bid you good luck on your travels as his attention was now turned to the girl he had been eyeing up across the room.
And with your liquid courage you stumbled around the party. The house was huge. Gigantic windows that draped around the whole house. Everywhere you looked was so picturesque, making you fall in love with Monaco more and more. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights leading down to the beach front. From the other end you could see continuous hills leading up into the stary sky, tiny specs of light from homes probably just as big and fancy as the one you were currently standing in swarmed your vision, a far cry from the apartment you and your mother shared where your view was a brick wall to another apartment complex.
Your heels were rubbing the back of your ankles as your hands gripped the bottom of your dress pulling it down as it was miles too short as you made your way out to the garden.
And there he sat, on the steps leading to the lit up outdoor pool, your boyfriend. A skinny little blonde girl sat on his knee. She was older than you, clearly. She took the cigarette from his lips and placed it on her own as her other arm draped over his shoulder. It was like this week after week, it was like you were a ghost.
This isn't the young love you put out for, and you decided enough was enough.
You always forgave him, but tonight was different. This night changed everything.
Tears welled in your eyes as you turned back into the house, you were going home. Joao caught a glimpse of this as he jumped up and followed you back into the house, why he would always chase after you you still don't know.
“Y/n, baby stop.” you ignored the sound of his voice as you pushed through the crowds of people to get back to the kitchen in hopes that Arthur was still there. He wasn't.
You made it to the kitchen before he grabbed the back of your arm pushing you against the kitchen island. His hand came up to wipe away a fallen strand of hair as he tucked it behind your ear.
“Come on y/n i didn't even do anything-”
“She was on your lap.” your voice crooked, you so desperately didn't want to be the little girl everyone thought you was and cry, not in front of everyone anyway. 
“It's not that big of a deal-”
“It is that big of a deal! I'm humiliated!” you shouted back, creating a scene you so desperately wanted to avoid.
“I just- I just want to go home.” you said in between sniffles.
“Baby, don't cry, let's just go back to mine, okay? I'll call a taxi-”
“No, I want to go home, my home.” you begged, the tears were falling now.
His grip tightened around your arm as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
“I need to find Arthur, and I need to go home.” you said, pushing his arm as he still had you pinned against the counter.
“Oh come on y/n, drop the act you know you want to come back to mine.”
You threw your head back dodging his fingers that were trying to touch your hair again, avoiding his eyes.
“Joao let go, you're hurting me.”
That only made his grip tighten around your arms, pushing you against the counter even harder than before. As he leant down to your ear-
“She said let go mate.”
Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt joao grip loosen as he stood back.
“Yeah and what are you gonna do about it, leclerc?”
That's when punches were thrown and Joao was hunched over holding his busted lip. Joao was grabbed by another person before he could lunge back at who you assumed was Arthur, but as you turned your head you saw a different leclerc shaking his hand. His knuckles were red, and his eyes were darker than the ones you were used to, charles.
“y/n get in the car.” he said, you stood up, sniffing and nodding your head. But then you remembered your missing friend.
“Arthur-”
“I'll get him. Get in the car.” his tone was strong, not what you were used to from the middle leclerc. 
You waited by his car in the cold for a few moments just before Charles came out the house, a stumbling tipsy Arthur under his arm. There was pink lip gloss smeared over his cheeks and lips, and at that moment you felt a small smile creep on your face. 
However, the car ride home was silent, you sat in the front with Charles, as Arthur passed out in the back seat. Faint french music played from the radio as charles eyes were firmly gripped on the road.
As you rounded the street to your home Charles finally spoke up, “You really know how to pick them.”
You sniffled again, unable to reply to him mainly because he was right and you were embarrassed. As the car came to a stop Charles undid his seat belt mumbling that he would walk you to your door.
He balanced on the back of his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight your tear stained cheeks. Charles thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half an hour, your hair hadn't been brushed and you were rummaging through your purse like a mad woman, he still thought you were pretty. He would never tell you that though.
“Don't tell me you've lost-”
“Got them!” You giggled, shaking your keys in the air before whipping your nose for what felt like the fifth time that night. You stalled as you pushed the key in the door, turning to look Charles in his eye for the first time since the party.
“Thank you-” but he cut you off, not wanting to hear it. You were his brother's best friend, Arthur wouldn't forgive him if he ever watched you in a position like the one that night and didn't do anything.
“Dont.”
“No really, thank you, charles.” You smiled, Charles smiled too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Charles and not charlie.
After a moment you dropped your bag on the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head rested on his chest as he hastily moved his hand and rubbed your back.
“Just make sure the next one isn't a total dick, okay?” he whispered, his chin placed on the top of your head.
He didn't know how much that sentence broke your little 16 year old heart.
You smiled and entered the house, Charles didn’t drive off that street before you waved at him out your window.
On the drive home we looked back at his younger brother, drooling on the back seat of his car. 
It was that night where he realised the both of you weren't all that different, but so far apart.
The first time Charles saw you after that night was a couple months later, a family day at the beach. You had turned seventeen in that time and joao was old news. But charles eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sat in the sand on your own. Sipping from a bottle of beer that you most likely stole from his crate, your toes were dipped in the wet sand as you watched the sun set on your own.
Arthur had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, Arthur's attention was stuck on the pretty blonde that was talking to his nan.
The rest of your families were distracted too, or so Charles thought. His mum watched him intently as he walked back to the car park, grabbing a spare jumper from his car before making way down the beach front to join you.
He spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party he just wanted to make sure you were okay. 
He crouched down in the sand next to you, aware of how your eyes were on him. He placed the jumper on your legs,
“You're going to get a cold.”
You scoffed but complied. Putting the jumper over your head and pulling at the sleeves, it smelled like him.
“How are you?” you asked charles, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the monegasque sea.
“I'm okay.”
The boys lost their dad a little under a year ago now, you hadn't really seen Charles since. But he knew you hadn't left Arthur's side for them few months.
“How you holding up, really?” you nudged his shoulder with yours, he did his little signature smile before looking down at his lap. Avoiding the question.
“Thank you. For looking after Arthur I mean, he's lucky to have you.” 
“Charlie…”
He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn't pressure him to answer your question, insted you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the coastline in silence.
Charles appreciated the silence and the way you didn't push him, moments like these he understood why Arthur loved you so much.
“It will be alright you know.” you hummed on his shoulder.
“I know.” Charles whispered back.
“Really, i can already see Charles leclerc, ferrari formula one driver. Your face will be all over Monaco, and we're all so proud. He'll be so proud.” 
Charles hated how much you believed him, because in that moment a nineteen year old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself everything felt impossible. 
“Don't forget about me when you're all big and famous, yeah?” you smiled up at him.
Charles looked down at you, his eyes were glossy but the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, he threw his head back in a laugh. 
“I dont think I'm ever getting rid of you.”
Now it was your turn to laugh, “at least your self aware charlie.”
After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place.
“y/n..” he whispered, oh how he whispered your name in his little broken accent, your heart melted as he backed away.
“I know, I know.”
You smiled and placed your head back on his shoulders looking at the sun that was nearly gone.
“You know I'm too old for you, right?” Charles whispered as he leaned his head on yours that was resting on his arm.
“I'm in it for the long game leclerc.” Charles giggled as he let his cheek get comfy on your head, pushing his side into you as you fully watched the sun disappear over the sea.
On the night of your 18th birthday Arthur had taken you out to your first club, you drank, alot…
Charles happened to be at the same club, so when your drunk body collided with his you couldn't help but wrap your arm around his torso, clinging onto him.
He gently placed hand on the small of your back smiling as you leaned on him.
Charles was 20 now, soon to turn 21 and had just signed a contract with alfa romeo, he was officially in formula one. Even Though you were proud of him you missed having him around. 
You stood on your heels, leaning up to his ear as Charles met your movements and bent down to hear you better in the loud club and your heart fluttered at the small action of his ear hovering near your face.
“I'm eighteen now charlie.” he could hear the smile in your voice.
“I know, happy birthday mon amour.” kissing your forehead, this was the closest you had ever been to him before, and you craved more. He had never called you the nickname before, he was teasing you.
“I'm officially an adult nowwwww.” you longed out his ear before you hand palmed his cheek. You so desperately wanted to kiss him.
“Y/n.” His tone was serious as he caught onto your intentions.
“Y/nnn.” You teased him back, imitating his serious tone and rolling your eyes as you do so.
“I know you want to Charlie, come on…” you giggled at him, but you were drunk and a mess, so the arm around your waist was to stop you from falling flat on your arse not because he just wanted to touch you, you thought. You pushed his hand off you and stood up straight, Charles sighed as he placed his hand back on the small of your back, you looked up at him. The stupid little puppy dog eyes that he refused to listen to.
“I'm too old for you, love.” Charles' hand once again held you close as you started to lose your balance again, “and you're too drunk.”
“Drunk on love.” you exclaimed, Charles laughed, like really laughed and you couldn't help but admire the creases around his eyes. He moved your arm over his shoulder so he could hold you up.
“Let's find Arthur and get you home, okay?” but as Charles pulled away you pulled him back.
“I've waited eighteen years, Charlie, I'm sure I have the patience to wait a bit longer.”
Charles thought maybe you had forgotten that night, but you remembered the way his hand was filmy stuck to the small of your back most of the night, and how he lent down to hear you and how his stubble felt in the palm of your hand, and the butterflies only got worse. 
You were falling harder everyday and you hated yourself for it, he didn't like you back.
Charles carried on with his f1 career with alfa romeo that year and you took up a journalism degree, following around arthur as he navigated the world of f3. You would occasionally bump into Charles when the boys had races at the same circuit. 
But with his first Monaco race you obviously had to be there to support him.
Charles hated how his heart beat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his garage with your old ferrari cap on and an alfa romeo shirt with the number 16 on the back hugging your chest. 
You truly had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and Charles found it harder to stay away. Your hair isn't frizzy anymore and you had for sure gone through puberty, he didn't like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.
The worst part is you hadn't even openly flirted with him in a while, and he couldn't seem to figure out why, and that bothered him so much more than he liked. 
The small little y/n that used to follow him everywhere, always latched to his arm, looking up at him with heart eyes. I mean, you weren't sixteen anymore that was sure, but Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment that you weren't head over heels for him anymore. 
Charles needed to snake off that weird feelling in his stomach.
You were now 19 about to turn 20, it was the off season and you couldn't wait to soak up some sun on the leclerc yacht. Your favourite summer getaway.
You drove up to the small paddock on a little beach and climbed onto the grey boat, it was charles’, of course. The whole family was there, you were talking to pascal as arthur pulled you around the side of the boat, nearly causing you to break an ankle.
“Erm hello? Watch it.” you scolded him for pulling you so ruffly.
“You're over the whole in love with my older brother thing, right?” he asked, his hand running through his hair.
“I- i why?” you said, clocking your head to the side at Arthurs panicked manor. He knew you had been doing great this year, and he also knew why you declined every single boy that had attempted to ask you out on a date this year. 
“Okay, erm,'' Arthur stood up straight and scratched the back of his head.
“Forget your stuff, let's just get off this boat. And er, don't turn around okay?” he tried to nonchalantly say, his hands gripping your shoulders were a dead give away something was wrong though.
You nodded your head and followed Arthur down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.
“Since when have I ever listened to you? I going to read my book on the sun-”
Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Charles, your Charles with a girl.
A pretty girl, beautiful actually, she was slim and perfect and her smile was enough to make you want to crumble in a ball. 
She was leaning on him, grabbing his bicep as her hand brushed through his hair, he was laughing like really and truly laughing at whatever it was she had to say and you had never felt emotions like the ones you felt in that moment.
You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out himself, no remorse, and had just served it back to you on a silver platter.
He really didn't want you. 
“y/n, i didn't even know he was bringing her i-”
“You knew?”
Arthur sighed before running his hands through his hair, “it's been around four months, mum really likes her, she's nice. I mean she's not you, but he's happy so i can't complain.'' Arthur shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to console you in that moment.
You turned away from the happy couple and sat on the small steps that lead down to the bottom of the yacht. Arthur sat down next to you, pulling your body into his as he wrapped his arm around you.
“What about me? When will I be happy?”
You hadn't realised you were crying until Arthur grabbed your arm and pulled you straight off the boat.
That was your wake up call, you had spent too much of your life waiting for someone that never wanted you. 19 years to be exact, a sad sad story to anyone that knew you. You were embarrassed and angry at yourself. 
You needed to actually move on. 
So that's what you did.
And that's when you met him, a young british boy, he was around your age and drove for a papaya team that shared the f1 grid with charles.
Lando norris.
He was 20, awkward, way too cocky for only his second year, and when you bumped into him in Bahrain of 2020 you chose him to be the one to make you move on.
He asked for your number a few races later and the two of you used to text all the time. He took you on cute picnic dates, asked if he could kiss you before he did, and overall was the kindest most respectful boyfriend a girl could ask for. You were actually happy, and it only took nineteen years.
It was imola when you bumped into Charles in the paddock, his brother wasn't here so he was confused as to why you were here, but then he saw the McLaren hat on your head and his eyebrows furred evenmore.
“y/n?”
“Hello, charles.” you gave him a tight lip smile before moving past him but he chased after you why you walked down the paddock strip. Past the ferrari garage.
“You're a McLaren fan now, huh?” 
“Yep.”
Charles' heart hurt at your bluntness, he grabbed your arm so you would stop walking and talk to him. 
“y/n.” serious charles. That stupid tone that usually made you freeze and obey whatever he had to say.
But this time you rolled your eyes and pulled your arm from his grip.
“Charles, I really have to be somewhere.” you lied, checking your watch.
“Like a journalism thing? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here, you could have flown with me and Joris?” and Charlotte, but he didn't mention that.
You really tried to pull your eyes from the red drivers suit that was wrapped around his hips, he was a ferrari driver now and you had never been more happy for him. You just wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how proud you were of him. 
But right at this moment, you had never wanted to create more distance between you both.
“y/n?” 
Both of your heads snapped as Lando ran up to you, you coughed and took a step back from charles.
Landos arm wrapped around your shoulder as he put out a fist for Charles to spud. Charles' eyes were glued to landos arm resting on your shoulder and he could feel the blood pumping in his heart speeding up.
Lando kissed your temple and Charles' eyes were glued to yours. 
“Charles.” Lando smiled nodding his head.
“Lando.'' Charles' voice was laced with venom, not that Lando noticed. 
“So you guys are?” Charles' eyebrows furred pointing between you both.
“We havent you know, labelled it yet. It's still kind of new” you smiled, it had been months.
“But I'm happy, really happy.” Charles knew that was a message to him, you were happy and he needed to leave you be. But with Lando of all people, Charles couldn't seem to shake this one off.
Charles mumbled something about needing to be somewhere and walked away from you both. Lando again oblivious to the interaction as his arm stayed secured around you and he balabbed on about the race as you walked to the McLaren motorhome.
Charles hated him. 
Charles hated himself for his feelings.
He didn't know why he was so bothered, he had never been this bothered, nothing gotten to him like you and Lando just did. Joris told him maybe it was because he had a soft spot for you deep down, he joked that maybe Charles liked you back and Charles ignored him for the rest of the weekend at that accusation. But that didn't mean he didnt ignore his words. 
It was over, you grew up and he should feel relieved you've moved on, right?
He broke up with Charlotte a month later.
Charles scoffed when you first bought lando along to family night, he hated how your mum loved his accent and how arthur laughed at all his jokes. He hated that he hadn't caught your eye all night, instead your eyes were glued on the stupid little british boys. Charles hated it, he sat there like a toddler that hadn't gotten their own way all night. He knew it was wrong but he hated his feelings more than he hated lando being sat at his table.
Charles was in the kitchen, he was picking at the leftover pie on the table top as everyone else was outside fawning over one of landos stories, he had really charmed the family.
His mother walked into the kitchen as he was taking a bite of cherry pie looking like a caught child, she laughed at the cherry stains in the corner of his mouth and passed him a tissue.
The pair stood in silence for a moment before Pascal spoke up.
“That's definitely not allowed in your diet, my sweet.” she smirked knowing the driver's strict diet.
“But you won't tell on me maman.” Charles flashed his puppy dog eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. She sighed and moved closer to him as he stood up straight. 
“You have a lot on your mind my boy, and don't tell me you don't because I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Maman.” Charles sighed.
“This is about her isn't it?” Charles' eyes refused to look at his mother at her words.
“I don't even need to say her name, it's her, it will always be her.” she smiled as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.
“She's happy, Charles.'' he heard the sternness in his mothers voice.
“So everyone keeps telling me.” Charles scoffed again.
“So then you know you're being an ass, right?”
Charles' eyes widened at his mothers language but she just laughed and waved him off.
“After all the years she spent pining after you, Charles, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.”
“But what if I'm not happy?” he asked his mum, she just sent him a sympathetic smile and grazed his cheek once more.
“Do you love her?”
“I dont know.” Charles shrugged.
“See, it would be cruel to break her heart over this kind of uncertainty. Either you love her or you're just jealous. You have a lot of thinking to do my boy, but don't do anything until you're really sure. She's fragile when it comes to you.”
Charles nodded his head.
His mum was right, he really did have a lot of thinking to do. 
And as if on queue there she was, walking into the kitchen, the widest smile on her face as she grabbed another beer from the fridge. She had started to let her curls rome free recently and it was sending charles’ heart into a spiral, with her stupid little shorts and crocs and no doubt she had conned lando into giving her his jumper. 
She used to do that to him, Charles thought, remembering all the times you had tricked him into stealing his hoodies. 
She smiled at Charles mum and told her again that the food was lovely, nodding at Charles, and she left just as quick as she came in.
“Maman, I'm so in love with her it physically hurts me.”
And there it was, the words you had so desperately wanted to hear your whole life, but you didn't hear a sound as Charles vowed to never say it again out loud. Your happiness came before his.
Charle suffered for a year, he knew he loved you, he had said it out loud once and the vulnerability he felt in that moment knowing you were stood just 15 feet away with the boy you were in love with was enough to make him swear to never voice his feelings again, he was embarrassed and wanted the world to swallow him whole. The worst part was the guilt, he could only feel like he had let one of the best things go, slip straight from his grasp all for a bit of pride. He didn't want to be seen with the young naive girl that had a crush on him, but now he just felt stupid. Stupid that he didn't recognise your love for him sooner, he had always thought you were one of the most amazing humans he had ever met, he found himself looking for you in other people when he didn't even know it. He was stupid, and he knew that for sure.
Charles dedicated the rest of the year to focusing on his f1 seat, with ferrari fucking him and sebastian over and over and after his wins at spa and monza he felt hungry for more and felt that the true love of his life should be formula one.
But his heart hurt when he didn't hear from you after his win in spa, and then it crushed him again when you didn't contact him after his result at monza.
No call.
Not even a text.
He had fully let you slip from his grasp.
It was a long year for Charles that year, and as summer break quickly approached he found girls and training were his favourite pastime. He stopped turning up to family events when he knew lando would be there and you were in love and happy. After a while it was a rarity he would even stay at an event for an hour.
He was 22 and as a new season started the only thing he was talking from lando was his teammate, not that charles was complaining. He liked Carlos, and he was ready to step up and take that 1st driver's seat. He was ready to make everyone proud just like you had promised him that night on the beach.
After a while charles mothers birthday rolled around, one he would definitely not miss as his mother requested a small family meal. Everyone was sitting, looking over the menu when Charles undoubtedly noticed the missing presence of you.
“Where's y/n?” Charles asked Lorenzo, who was sitting next to him.
Lorenzo just shrugged and turned his attention back to his menu, was it normal for you to not attend family outings? Charles hadn't been around for so long he didn't even think to consider that maybe she didn't turn up to these things anymore either.
“With Lando I suppose.” Charles murmured, he tried not to sound jealous but the older brother just laughed.
“Lando?” as he turned to his younger brother.
“Why would she- you really haven't spoken to her have you?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes widening at the thought of his brother being so dumb.
Charles just shrugged his shoulders as he urged his brother to continue.
“They broke up, a while ago actually.”
Charles didnt know why his shoulders felt lighter but he chose to ignore it and try to press some more information out of his brother.
“So? First break up, we've all been there, doesn't mean she can't be here for mamans birthday.'' Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to act like he didn't care.
“She's not even in the country charles.”
Charles' head snapped towards his brothers, “She's taking a gap year, last I heard she was staying in Australia for a while.”
Lorenzo could see the gears turning in charles’ head; he knew he wanted to ask more so he answered for him.
“Hey Arthur, where's y/n these days?” Lorenzo asked his other brother who was at the other end of the table with his girlfriend.
Arthur shrugged before answering, “Still in australia at the moment, she really likes it there, but i told her she cant like it to much because there's no way i'm sitting on a plane for twelve hours every time i want to actually see her face and not on a phone screen.” arthur joked, everyone else laughed along with him for a moment until charles countered up the courage to speak up.
“Why didn't she just travel with formula one? She wanted to be an F1 journalist anyway.”
Arthur's eyes narrowed at his brother. 
You definitely hadn't meant to cause it, but there was a small crack in between the brothers' relationship within the last year. Arthur definitely blamed Charles and his stupid effects on you for you running away.
“She wanted to be away from f1 for a while.'' Arthur told his brother like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, hoping to squash this table subject, not really wanting to talk about his run away best friend.
“I mean I don't blame her, especially when her Lando ended like it did. She's living her best life.” Carla, Arthurs girlfriend chimed in. Arthur slightly winced at his girlfriend's words not wanting this to be the dinner conversation tonight, especially when Charles clearly knew nothing about y/n's life within the last year.
“What?'' Charles asked the table, but no one answered him, instead everyone's heads were down dead planted down at the table, everyone except for Carla who had no idea what she had just started.
“Why did no one tell me what's been going on?” charles raised his voice slightly, catching the attention from everyone else on the table.
Charles mother intervened knowing where this was going, “charles, not right now-”
“No, she's been going through something and no one even thought to mention it? What the fuck.”
Arthur was visibly turning red, Charles noticed as Lorenzo's head was shaking telling his little brother now wasn't the time, pleading Arthur to just bite his tongue.
“Say it arthur.”
The flame was lit.
“And who do you think upset her in the first place, charles?” Arthur tutted, picking up his menu pretending to scan it so he didn't have to pay attention to the conversation anymore.
“Drop it, arthur.” Lorenzo sternly interrupted.
“Considering no ones told me anything how the fuck am i supposed to answer that question?” Charles spat back at his brother.
Arthurs cheeks were a visible red now, he was about to blow up. Something he had been holding in for a while. He slammed his menu down and turned to look at his older brother.
“You know what Charles, you have no right! No fucking right, sorry maman for the language-” charles mum just put her hands up in defence as she let her youngest son get it all off his chest. 
“She loved you, and you constantly broke her heart and told her no and then when she was finally happy in a relationship you had to go tell the world you love her so much that ‘it physically hurts you!” Arthur mugged his brother's words.
Charles was shocked, he had no idea what was happening. 
No one knew of his feelings towards you, no one except- charles head snapped towards his mother who pulled a tight lip smile and just shaked her head in a no. Charles was about to deny deny deny when-
“Yeah, she heard it. And it fucking broke her charles. It was mean and it was selfish, and I've never despised someone more than you for what you did to MY best friend.”
“Arthur-”
“I'm not finished. Then you have the decency to finally come to a family meal for the first time in nearly a year, nearly a year charles! And ask about her like you didn't completely cut her and us out of your life? You're selfish, completely and utterly selfish charles.”
Charles sat at the table pale, he felt the colour drain from his face as he scrambled to find the words to say but his mouth didn't open.
“You really do pick and choose your moments brother, I don't know why I even came tonight, I'm sorry maman but I told you I wouldn't be able to sit in a room with him.”
Arthur stood up, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and took Carla's hand in the other.
“I'm really sorry maman, and everyone else, happy birthday, i guess.” Arthur gave his mother a hug and walked out of the restaurant with carla. Leaving everyone else at the table in pure shock.
Especially Charles, he had know idea what to say, he looked up at his mother opposite him who looked at him with sympathy.
“My sweet boy, I'm sorry to say it but there was some truth to your brother's words. I told you she was fragile.”
Charles felt awful.
Charles felt like he was going to cry at the table.
It had been a long year for Charles, he had groveld for the most of it, thinking you were happy somewhere while Lando flew you anywhere and everywhere around the world. Now he came to think of it, maybe there was a better reason for the young mclaren driver avoiding him.
He wasn't really friends with Lando, but his teammate, Carlos was close with the boy and whenever there was an offer for the three of them to hang out Lando magically had something come up and couldn't attend. 
It all made sense now. Even the fact he hadn't seen you in the paddock, he thought maybe you were caught up in your studies, oh how he was wrong.
He sat at the table for the rest of the meal, and with every passing comment he didn't think he could sink more into his chair.
He was an awful person, he thought.
When the family were leaving the restaurant Charles hugged his family members, swallowing the anxiety and embarrassment down.
He looked over at Lorenzo who sent him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Tonight wasn't supposed to go like that, i told arthur to just drop it i-”
“No, it's okay. I deserved it.”
“I dont know, you fucked up, but you didnt need to run, nether did she.'' Lorenzo, his older brother shrugged.
“What happened? With her and lando." Charles pushed.
“alot .” lorezono chucked.
“I don't know if it's my place to-” enzo sighed at that stupid little puppy dog face his younger brother was pulling.
“I'm pretty sure she cheated on him, Arthur said as she fell into a bit of a hole. So the only thing she really could do was just leave Monaco for a while. She seems good, Charles, healthy and happy." Lorenzo shrugged, watching as Charles' eyes widened and he latched onto every word. 
“If it's any closure she's not mad at you, Arthur, well I'm sure he would be he loves y/n like a twin sister, but she's not mad at you. She was just confused and hurt.”
“If i call her-'' Charles started but his voice flattened as he realised it would ne dumb to contact you.
“Call her Charles, I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you.”
You knew what today was, arthur's molthers birthday. You had called her in the morning sending her your love and wishes, she told you that Charles was attending the meal and Arthur would be on his best behaviour, little did you know.
You wondered if Charles knew what you were up to, if pascal or lorenzo had been keeping him in the loop.
You were at the beach, cocktail in hand and book in the other, your earphones were in as you hummed to the faint sound of the music and read, but you were disturbed when the rigging was a call from your phone echoing through your earphones, charles.
Pick it up.
Pick it up.
You couldn't do it.
Your body froze in place, you pulled your airpods out, throwing down your book, not caring that you lost the page you were on. You took in a deep breath and picked up your phone, and just as your thumb hovered over the answer button, the ringing stopped.
He had called you?
You needed a moment to think about what you were going to say to him, what he would say.
You so desperately wanted to hear his voice, it had been a year, and you wondered if that was enough time for feelings to vanish.
You looked out at the calm seas for a moment, did you really want to fall back into a loop of pining for him like a puppy. You loved him, loved, past tense. You were a grown woman now, so you opened your phone and called him back.
Ringing.
“Hello?” his voice echoed through the phone.
“Charles?”
You heard his sigh of relief over the phone, and your heart melted all over again, he hadn't even spoken yet, but the closeness of his presence made it all too real.
“I'm sorry.”
He's sorry?
“Charles-”
“I'm sorry, okay. Arthurs right, I was mean and I was selfish and you deserved so much more than what I did to you. From the bottom of my heart y/n/n, I'm so so incredibly sorry.”
“It's- it's okay.” 
You forgave him.
“It's not.”
There was a silence that lingered for a moment.
“What I said, what you heard, it wasn't supposed to happen like that. I really didn't want it to happen that way.” he pleaded over the phone, his breathy voice echoing through the speaker.
“I want to see you.”
More silence.
“Please, y/n.”
“Okay.”
More silence.
“Soon, okay.” There was promise to your words.
“Soon.” he repeated, as though it was something for him to hold onto. 
Soon.
“When I'm ready Charles I'll come home, I'm just not ready yet.” you winced at your own words because you so desperately wanted to see him too.
“Then don't come home- i'll come to you, i'll catch the next plane if i have too just tell me where you are-”
“Charles, I'm not ready yet.” you interrupted him. 
Silence.
Charles wanted to cry, hearing your voice and knowing you were just within reach he wanted to see you, hold you, apologise as much as you would allow him to. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and love you forever, but you weren't ready.
“I'll wait for you, okay? Soon or not.” his voice cracked, and god did it melt your heart.
“I'll see you soon charlie.”
This was feeling a little too much like a goodbye for charles.
“y/n?”
“Yeah?”
“Am I too late?’
“Time doesn't apply when it comes to you.” and Charles had hope. He hadn't fully let you slip, yet.
Charles would now spend every waking moment wondering how soon was soon?
But after a while he figured ‘soon’ was a little long, three more months to be precise.
You had left Australia, travelled around more like you wanted to, and you came back to Monaco just before the end of the f1 season.
Charles was already in Abu Dhabi by the time you landed back in monaco.You had asked everyone to not tell him of your arrival.
You were sitting with Arthur in his mothers living room, just like the old days. You told him about your travels while he updated you on his love life and gossip in the paddock.
You had missed this.
And it wasn't until pascal passed you a warm cup of tea and sat with the two of you, sharing her own gossip from the hair salon you realised how much you were ready to be home again.
Arthur had run to his room quickly to grab his trophies to show you and as he walked out of the room your eyes lingered on the suitcases by the door.
“You're going to Abu dhabi?” you asked pascal.
“Tomorrow.” she smiled at you.
Pascal could visibly see the gears turning in your head, she placed a hand on your knee and smiled up at you.
“I don't want to pressure you y/n, and i know you just got back but you should consider it.”
You knew what she meant and you nodded at her with a small smile, and Arthur came back.
You went home a few hours later and sat in your room, if you go you'll see him, but you're going to see him at some point regardless. 
You felt vulnerable.
So completely scared, but that didn't stop you from texting Arthur that night telling him you were going to join him and his family tomorrow.
You were going to see him.
Your time was up.
You were ready.
You meet up with the leclerc family at the airport in the early hours of the morning, your suitcase gripped in your hand as you were mentally preparing yourself to sit on the plane and go over any and every possible outcome this weekend could have.
Arthur sat with Carla at the front, and Pascal was fast asleep. But the chair next to you suddenly became occupied when you looked up and saw the eldest leclerc.
“You look well, y/n.” he smiled down at you.
“Thank you.” you smiled back at lorenzo.
“I think the time away did you good, no?”
“yeah, i really needed some space, but now i'm back and just feeling a little..” you stumbled on your words, struggling to describe your emotions.
“Overwhelmed?”
“Yeah, exactly that.”
“Does he know you're coming?” you knew the ‘he’ lorenzo was referring too.
“I dont think so.”
“He's going to be happy to see you.” lorenzo nudged your shoulder.
“I hope so.” you nervously chucked.
You took in a deep breath and looked back at the eldest leclerc brother, “I'm just anxious, I have no idea how this weekend will pan out. The next time I'll be back on this plane going home I could be happy, sad, crying or planning to run away again. I just feel so lost.”
“Lost isn't a bad thing.'' Lorenzo shrugged.
“He's just as lost as you y/n, trust me. I just hope you both figure it out, you both deserve the peace of mind. And if this all goes to shit, you still got on this plane today and tried.”
“I just don't want to get my hopes up.”
“Then don't, sometimes things aren't just meant to be.”
That's what was worrying, you had loved this man for years, and now was the deciding day if he loved you back or not and you don't know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him
being the love of your life up yet.
You weren't mentally prepared for the shit outcome of this story, you didn't know if you could handle Charles breaking your heart another time.
When the plane landed and the warm air hit your skin you took in a deep breath. Time to face the music.
You went straight to your hotel, it was a Friday so Charles was about to participate in fp1 by the time you turned up to the track.
The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of happy fans filled your ears, you had missed being in the paddock more than you knew. This place was your home.
You were walking with Arthur and Carla when your name was called, judging by the accent you knew it wasn't the monegasque, it was the papaya coloured boy running up to you.
You told Arthur and Carla you would catch up with them as you stopped and smiled at lando who had now reached you. 
“Hey.” he smiled.
“Hey.” you smiled back awkwardly.
“Listen lando, you deserve an explanation-”
“It's okay y/n, we were young, it was a while ago you’re forgiven.” Lando chuckled as he poked your shoulder.
“But that doesn't mean what I did was okay, you deserve more than what I gave you.” 
Lando gave you a sympathetic smile.
“Consider it done with, okay? No hard feelings.”
You smiled up at the British boy, he looked good, he seemed well and that made your guilt feel a little less painful.
“I erm, I have a girlfriend actually, she's great, her names luisa.”
You watched as he lips upturned at the mention of his girlfriend, he was smitten.
“I'm happy for you landini.”
You both laughed for a moment, the free air was nice. Seeing lando meant there was a weight lifted off your shoulders.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing, I didn't want things to be awkward.” he said.
“I don't think I could ever be awkward around you.” Lando smiled at your words.
“Are you still thinking about becoming an F1 journalist?” he asked, remembering how it was your dream, he had also hoped your disappearance in the paddock for the last year wasn't his doing, stopping you from reaching your dream.
You smiled as he remembered, “I'm working on it.”
“Well i hope i see you around more often then, you deserve it y/n, really.”
Lando was getting called from the other end of the paddock as he had to be in his car within the next 10 minutes, you both shared a hug and it felt nice to feel comfortable with him.
His hands squeezed your back before saying a quick bye and skipping down the paddock. 
As he pulled away and walked past, your eyes connected with them all to familiar grey ones you were so nervous to see.
Charles.
He didn't seem too happy though.
He had just watched you smile and laugh with your ex in the middle of the paddock and then hug him bye, even though you thought nothing of it, Charles' mind was spinning.
There he was, a tight lipped smile right opposite you. He had grown out his stubble and he looked tired. You knew he hadn't had the best of seasons with Ferrari, you didn't keep up with it too much, it upset you that his childhood team had failed him massively. 
He nodded his head and followed his press officer in the opposite direction, but you weren't going to let him go just yet.
“Charles, wait!”
And before you could process it you were running, sprinting down the paddock after him, but he had already disappeared into ferrari hospitality.
“Shit.” you mumbled as you jogged down to the garages in hopes of catching up with him.
You scanned your pass and walked into the back of the garage Pascal had walked up to you and grabbed your hand.
“You need to put some headphones on dear, it gets loud in -”
“Pascal, where did he go?” you asked her frantically, like a mad woman out of breath.
“Charles?”
“yes!”
A slight smile just appeared on her face as she turned around, “Be quick dear, I think I can see him putting his balaclava on.” She pushed your shoulder and you walked around the red barrer that clearly said ‘no public entry’.
“You can't be back here, ma'am.” a security officer grabbed the back of your bicep.
“No, I need to get through, it's an emergency.” you whined, pulling your arm from his grip.
“I'm sorry ma’am, it's a safety hazard.” the man's grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you away from the back of the garage. You pushed off him but his grip only improved as he swept you off the floor, lifting you up at your attempt to run. You kicked your legs like a child learning to swim and kicked arms that trapped you.
“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have no choice but to remove you from the garage.” he said, trying to dodge your feisty little kicks.
“And If you don't get your slimy huge hands off me right now i'm going to-”
“y/n?!”
Your head snapped at the sound of your name, Jorris, Charles' best friend.
“Jorris, oh thank god!”
“She's okay, she can come in.” Jorris grabbed your other hand and wiggled you away from the huge security man's grip as he dropped you back to the floor. You brushed off your dress and gave the security man a dirty look before turning to Charles' best mate.
“Jorris, where is he?” your breathing was rapid and your heart beat feeling like it was thumping out your chest.
“y/n you really shouldn't.” he sent you a sympathetic smile.
“Please.” you pleaded with him. After seeing you try to fight a six foot five security man Joris really didn't want to feel the wrath of you right now, so he complied.
“You have five minutes, follow me.” he led you through the back of the garage.
Whenever Charles got in the car he liked to be left alone to his own devices, it was his switch off time, but you knew on some occasions he didn't mind the company, you just needed to talk to him, tell him you were here for him. You didn't want him getting in the car overthinking that you were here for lando.
And before you knew it, there he was, standing in front of you, you were painting out of breath with your hands on your knees as you looked up at him.
Charles giggled as you held up a finger to let him know you were still getting your breath back. He pulled his ear pieces out of his ear and zipped up the rest of his race suit.
“I hate to rush you, but I have to be in the car in four minutes.” Charles frowned, “and four minutes aren't enough for what I have to say to you, y/n.”
“Let's keep it short and sweet then.” you stood up straight and smiled at the boy.
“Im sor-” he started but you cut him off.
“That's not what I meant by sweet.”
Charles squeezed his eyes and winced at his name being called behind him, he opened his eyes and saw you beaming up at him and he knew he was in love, he just wasn't going to tell you yet, especially not if he had just witnessed you make up with lando. Lando made you happy, Lando didn't break your heart on multiple occasions like he had. Charles wouldn't blame you if you went back to the British driver.
You tilted your head to the left and smiled at Chris, Charles' manager. He was pointing at his watch and tapping his foot.
You looked back at Charles and took in a deep breath, you stood on your tip toes and placed your arms on his shoulders, gently placing a kiss to his cheek.
Your soft lips connecting with his ruff stubble is something Charles cherished, he couldn't wipe the Cheshire cat grin off his face.
“I know it's only a practice session, but good luck out there charlie.”
“Thank you.” he smiled, trying to hide his blush. He couldn't believe he was blushing and how the roles had reversed between the two of you.
“What about lando?” he had to ask, it was on his mind.
“I'm not standing next to Lando wishing him good luck right now, am i?” you smirked at him.
Charles smiled before looking back at his manager, he bent down and kissed your forehead like he had done a thousand times, but this time it felt different, electric, it felt like love. It was love.
“I'll be waiting for you, okay?” you told him.
Charles smiled to himself, he wasn't too late.
If anything was on Charles' side that day it wasnt timing. Charles finished fp2 with a few flying laps and a heavy heart, his first plan was to find you but his press officer had forced him to do interviews, and then he had a meeting and then he had checked his watch and it was way past nine and he knew you were probably back at the hotel by now.
He huffeed as he left his meeting, grabbing his jumper and keys and saying goodbye to the engineers that were going to work on the car overnight.
He had it all planned in his head, he was going to get some flowers on the way home, knock on your hotel door and ask you on a date.
“Charles!” called out his manager, he really hoped he didn't have to stay in this hell hole any longer, he just wanted to leave the track and get his girl.
“What?” he huffed.
“She waited.”
“What?” Charles repeated, his manager now having his full attention. 
Charles caught the way his manager's lips turned into a devilish smirk, but he wasn't looking at Charles, yet something behind him. When he whipped his head around there you were, his heart thumped at the massively oversized ferrari jacket one of the staff must have given you to keep you warm while you waited.
You just smiled at him and waited for him to walk to you, but charles sprinted, he was a man on a mission and when he got to you his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you up in the air for a moment before he dropped you back down, his hands still remaining tightly wrapped around your torso.
He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing his forehead on yours.
“Take what's yours charlie.” you smiled. 
Charles' thumb gently traced over your plump bottom lip before he placed his hand on your cheek, smiling like an idiot. 
He slowly grazed his lips on your before gently adding pressure and connecting your soft lips with his in a quick kiss. A kiss that was full of smiles as Charles pulled you as close to him as possible. Towering over you as he kissed you unlike he had kissed anyone ever. The way your lips moved in sync with his was magic to him, it had never felt like this before.
He pulled back letting you get some air, before using that as leverage to stick his tongue in your mouth, he put all his power and passion into the kiss and it was just as you imagined him to be with you. Sensual and passionate. 
Your hands ran along his shoulders and up to his head where you gently tucked on his hair. Charles groned on your lips and eventually pulled back, he giggled as he placed his forehead on yours again. 
“All mine, finally.” He said through a wide smile.
“I've always been yours…”
Thank you for reading!! Here’s a gif of baby Charles because this is how i imagined him when y/n had her teenage crush. Bare faced and spiky hair🥹
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penny00dreadful · 3 months
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And They Were Roommates!
Part 2 AO3
Steve didn’t hate him exactly.
He was just… vastly irritated by his very presence.
When they’d fallen into being roommates with Eddie, Steve and Robin were just happy to have anywhere to live. 
They’d spent a few weeks living in the ageing BMW after they’d gotten booted by their previous landlord when the rent had spiked again and they couldn’t afford to pay it anymore.
Then Dustin had come to them saying he had a friend that had a spare bedroom that he needed to fill and they had jumped at the chance. 
It wasn’t a terrible apartment, all things considered. 
The bathroom needed a bimonthly mould clean out and the water pressure was nonexistent. It was almost always colder inside than it was outside, no matter how hot the weather got and the front door had clear signs of being broken down before, with a new lock haphazardly slapped over where the old one had been but it was shockingly quiet and secluded. 
A small and unassuming building that people tended to glance over sitting close enough to the city centre so that everything was within walking distance. It was twice the size of the place Steve and Robin had lived before, an open plan kitchen and sitting room with enough room for a dining table creating a barrier between the two. 
A nice dining table too. 
One that could fit more than two people.
Two bedrooms, one bathroom. 
Eddie had apparently wrinkled his nose at the idea of sharing with a couple but Steve and Robin weren’t about to correct him. He was a completely unknown person who seemed to make it his mission to look mean and scary, no matter what Dustin said about him. 
So Steve refused to feel bad about making assumptions.
But the guy was less mean and scary and mostly just annoying.
He left his shit everywhere, like he’d never heard of fucking organisation before. And he was so loud and exuberant all the time. Like yeah, they guy could enjoy his passions or whatever but that didn’t mean Steve had to like being an unwilling participant in it.
When Robin moved out, Steve stayed even though it was clear Eddie would have preferred if he'd gone too. 
He wasn’t going to give up a good place just because his roommate was a lot. 
And he certainly wasn’t going to give up a good place just because his roommate kept dropping hints he wanted his special someone to move in and Steve to move out.
Steve would show Eddie the meaning of stubborn.
They bickered like an old married couple constantly and Steve couldn’t exactly say that he hadn’t risen to the bait or caused his own fair share of problems between the two of them either.
Things had only marginally shifted once Eddie had proudly stuck up a flyer advertising the set list for the Pride Parade After Party that his band had somehow been signed to perform at.
When he caught Steve looking at it one morning he’d levelled him with his smuggest smile, like he’d just won some kind of argument. Like he was just waiting for Steve to go on a homophobic rant and run out of the apartment, never to return.
“Got a problem there, Stevie boy?”
Eddie crossed his arms loosely over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen counter with a feral look in his eyes, itching for a fight.
Steve had just turned to him with his sharpest, most cutting grin and lifted open the zippered side of his bomber jacket, revealing his bi pride flag patch sewn to the inner pocket.
“No.”
Eddie had glared at the patch like it had personally offended him before storming off to his room with a scowl.
After that, the barbs thrown at each other had gotten a little more… queer.
After one particularly frustrating argument, Steve had snapped at Eddie “I know how to keep a fucking shower drain clean, Mary.” before snatching his keys up and slamming the door behind him.
When Steve had finally seen fit to talk to Eddie again, nearly two full days later, huffing at him to hurry up in the kitchen, he wanted some coffee, Eddie had turned with the most exaggerated face of surprise and his hands thrown up in shock as he proclaimed, “She speaks!”
Steve had rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Jesus, you’re such a queen.”
Eddie had levelled him with his own cutting smile and responded, “That I am, darling.”
After that their arguments were full of a lot more condescending and patronising ‘Mary’s and ‘sweetie’s and ‘oh, honey’s.
It gave Steve the strangest feeling of companionship. Not only with Eddie, loathe as he was to admit it, but also with the culture and with the queers of old who were still around, who’d had to kick and spit and fight just to be seen.
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Eddie had been buzzing around the apartment all day. 
It was A Big Date Night™ apparently. 
He was gonna ask the boyfriend to take a road trip with him back to Indiana to meet Wayne, a big step that he’d never made with a partner before.
Steve liked Wayne. But he liked even more how irritated Eddie was that they spoke. Wayne had called the apartment one day looking for his nephew and when Steve answered he heard the sounds of a game in the background and asked about it.
It was over forty five minutes later Steve turned to find Eddie staring at him with a horrified expression on his face and Steve couldn’t help the evil glint in his eye as he continued to debate Wayne on their favourite players.
But Eddie had left hours ago now and it was getting… late.
Really, really late.
Like four in the morning late and he hadn’t come home yet.
He was supposed to, he needed to be up the next morning for his shift at the nerd shop he worked at and he loved that job. He wouldn't miss it for anything.
Steve wasn’t like, worried or anything.
Not that Eddie needed to be babied, he wasn’t one of his kids. 
He was just… looking out for the safety of another human being.
The only light in the dark apartment was coming from the low glow of the tv and it was so quiet there was barely a sound coming from the speaker. Steve was curled up on the couch, swaddled in a throw and his mind kept drifting. 
He couldn’t pay attention to whatever was playing, his brain just kept catastrophising about what the fuck could have happened to make Eddie so late. 
He nearly jumped out of his skin and simultaneously felt his body unclench when he heard a key in the lock and recognised Eddie's wild head of hair coming into the apartment.
But that didn’t last long because Eddie caught the door before it could close with a loud snap like it usually did, shutting it slowly and softly behind him.
It was alarming because Eddie never remembered to close the door quietly, no matter how much Steve bitched at him. And it wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose, Steve knew that, it’s just that his mind was most often somewhere else, focused on some other thing so that he simply… forgot.
Eddie cursed low to himself as he slumped into the kitchen, pulling the freezer door open and rummaging around for a bit before pulling something out.
He kept his head low, hair spilling out around his face as he jumped up onto the counter and sat. 
He still hadn’t noticed Steve sitting there, watching the whole exchange under the dim flickering light of the television.
It looked like Eddie had snatched up a bag of Steve’s frozen peas. And they were Steve’s. Because Eddie didn’t eat anything green unless it was artificially coloured and covered in sugar.
Eddie squeezed the peas in hand hands, considering, before he muttered to himself, “so fucking stupid” and brought them up to rest on the side of his face.
That kicked Steve into action, unfurling himself from the couch, keeping his throw around his shoulders because it was fucking cold and he padded over to the kitchen in his fluffy socks.
“Eddie?”
Frozen peas scattered, skittling across the tiled floor, landing in the sink, ricocheting off the cupboard doors and clattering off the walls as Eddie jumped violently at the sound of his name, softly spoken as it was. 
He’d snapped his head up and Steve could see, in the dim light of the tv behind him, unusual darkness spreading over Eddie’s face, like a stain on his pale skin.
Eddie tightened his hands again around the now mostly empty bag, looking back down at it. 
“‘M sorry about your peas.” He mumbled.
Steve could only blink in response. 
Eddie wasn’t supposed to mumble. 
He wasn’t supposed to be quiet and subdued and wilted. 
He was supposed to be loud and brash and tawdry and bright.
“I’m gonna turn the light on, okay?” Steve tried to keep any rising panic and worry out of his voice, tried to keep himself calm and level. He could barely just make out the small nod Eddie gave after a beat of hesitation.
The light was harsh and painful after so long spent in mostly darkness and Steve had to squint through his glasses waiting for his eyes to adjust, but when they did he felt his stomach drop.
Eddie's face was scrunched up as he tried to blink through brightness but that wasn’t what caught Steve’s attention. 
Because there was blood crusting on the side of Eddie’s face, settled around his eye and in his hair from a gash over his eyebrow. His lip was split and puffy and swollen and his cheek was slowly blooming from red to purple.
“You should see the other guy.” Eddie grinned with a wince, when he noticed Steve cataloguing, but his eyes stayed distant and sad.
“What…” Steve stepped closer, hovering his hand over the injuries, over his hair. “What happened?”
Eddie shrugged, dipping his eyes back down to the melting bag of peas in his hands. “We had a disagreement.”
Steve looked down too and gently took the peas out of his grip, placing the bag in the sink next to them. 
It was only then that he noticed Eddie’s knuckles were bloodied as well, split and starting to swell.
He had to swallow against the sickening anger coiling in his throat as he closed a gentle hand around Eddie’s cold fingers and he tugged it over to the sink, turning the tap on. 
“Your peas-”
“Fuck the fucking peas, Eddie!” Steve snapped before trying to reel himself back in when Eddie flinched, nearly pulling his hand away but stopping himself at the last moment.
With the softest movements he could manage, Steve got Eddie’s fingers as soapy as he could before slowly working his rings left and right, pulling them off his fingers.
“What are you doing?” It wasn’t quite a whisper but the question was low, almost like a hum.
“Your fingers are going to start to swell soon. I can leave them on if you’d rather have them cut off later?” Steve looked up to see Eddie watching their hands working together under the dribble of the tap. 
He shook his head.
“Well okay then.” He tugged the last ring free and examined them, silver and wet and heavy in his palm. 
There was still some dried blood in the grooves. 
“Did you at least get him good with these?” He gestured to them before placing them carefully to the side and gently towling Eddie’s injured hand dry.
A smirk tugged at the uninjured side of Eddie’s mouth. “You’re damn right I did.”
Steve gave a short sharp nod, placing Eddie’s hand back in his lap. “Good.” 
He moved over to the freezer, pulling out his own cold compress which Eddie hadn’t chosen for some reason and tugging the first aid kit from on top of the fridge.
“So are you going to tell me what happened?” He said, trying to keep his voice even and his posture lighthearted as he laid the stuff out next to Eddie’s leg. He pulled their second drawer open and took a clean dish towel out, running it under the tap.
“Why, Stevie? You worried about me?” Eddie tried to grin but it quickly turned into a grimace as Steve pressed the damp cloth against the cut on his eyebrow, his lips turning down.
“Don’t be precious about it, honey. Just tell me. I’ll never stop pestering you until you do.” He pulled the cloth away and started gently brushing it across Eddie’s skin, trying to remove as much of the dried blood as he could.
“Alright, alright, keep your wig on.” Eddie huffed and pulled his mouth into a frown before shrugging again. ”Well I’m single now.”
Steve managed to keep his hands working, only halting for just a second as the words hit him. “Rick did this?”
“Yep.” Eddie said with a pop. “Everything was going good, you know. Standard date stuff, whatever. Then I asked him to come meet Wayne and he looked at me. Said, and I quote; ‘What exactly do you think this is?’”
Eddie snorted and shook his head. 
Steve was forced to pull the cloth away to stop tugging on the broken skin. “Wait so-”
“So apparently I’ve been seeing this whole thing as more serious than it was. Apparently I’ve been putting feelings where there were none. And get this,” he grabbed Steve’s hand, stalling his movements again and forcing him to look into those giant deep brown eyes, “he’s married.”
Steve felt his mouth drop open in an indignant stare. “No.”
“Yeah. I know, right? I’ve been the other woman this whole time.” He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “Just a bit of fun.” He tongued at his split lip. "And it's my problem, my fault that I didn't figure it out, according to him." He shook his head, forcing Steve to retract his hand from around his eye. "The fucker took his wedding band off every time we met, so…"
Rather than grabbing Eddie gently by the chin, which he was really, quite horrifyingly tempted to do, he instead said, "Be a dear and stop moving."
Eddie levelled him with a glare but there wasn't much behind it, it was all performative even as he tutted and started twisting the chain on his jeans around in his fingers. But he stopped moving his head.
"So how did that lead to this?"
Eddie scoffed. "How do you think, Mary? I got mad."
"Well good. You should've been mad. Did you throw the first punch?"
"Technically?" Eddie hummed in consideration. "Yes. But he had his hands on me before that soo…"
Steve froze, he couldn’t help it. 
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
"In what way?" He kept his voice light but the bright white concern underneath was like a foghorn. 
Eddie shrugged again and turned his head, giving Steve more access to the blood crusted above his ear and into his hairline. 
Then he leaned forward just a little bit more until his forehead was resting against Steve's shoulder.
Steve reached back to pull Eddie's hair out of the way, over the back of his neck so he could clean up his hairline.
Neither of them spoke for a few moments, the silence wasn't tense but it wasn't calm either. It was anticipatory. Eddie was building himself up to answer.
"He didn't see a problem with the situation, I mean obviously he didn't see a problem with the situation so he just wanted to… continue, I suppose. We'd been… experimenting with switching before this and he tried to go full dom on me. Kept trying to get me to submit." Eddie's voice had started to shake even though he tried valiantly to keep it down and it made Steve wonder just how long he'd been keeping it down already. 
Steve dropped the cloth off in the sink and brought a hand up, resting it on the back of Eddie's still bent head, making sure not to cage him in, making sure to keep his touches light and gentle but still there if he wanted them.
"I didn't- I didn't want to anymore but he just kept going and I told him he wasn't asking my consent, he was demanding it. He said I had to do what he wanted because he was in charge and that’s how it works-” 
“Eddie, that is not how it works-”
“Yes, thank you, darling. I know that. I told him that wasn't what's done, no matter the dynamics and he was just getting more and more pissed off, like I was ruining his fun and he wouldn’t get off of me so I just… fucking decked him." Eddie laughed, a terrible broken thing. “I thought… I thought we had… it had been so good while… why can’t I have… why does it always have to end like this?”
His voice had become harsher, more defeated as he went on, cracking and pitching along the words until the end. Until a heart wrenching choked off sound was pulled from his throat.
Eddie was weeping softly into Steve’s shoulder and his hands were twitching in his lap, like he wanted to reach out, like he wanted some comfort but didn’t know if he was allowed. 
But he must have decided he didn’t care if he was allowed or not because the next second he’d thrown his arms around Steve’s shoulders and pulled him in tight, sniffling openly and freely into his neck.
Steve took the tiniest of steps closer and wound his arms around Eddie’s middle, bypassing his leather jacket and battle vest, snaking his arms underneath until there was just the threadbare band t-shirt between them.
He ran a hand up and down Eddie’s back as he shook, while Eddie just clutched on tighter.
“Why does it always have to be… why can’t I… why…” a terrible little sob broke out of Eddie’s throat. “Why does no one ever want me the way I want them?”
Steve had to pinch his eyes shut against the pure heartbreak in his voice, coming out halting and thick and so small. 
He just held him tighter, whispering little placating words and small shushes that he felt more in his chest than he did his throat. 
He hesitated for just a moment before placing a light little kiss to the side of Eddie’s head, into his hair. The same kind of kiss he’d give to Robin or one of the kids if they were in the same situation. 
That was all.
“God.” Eddie muttered, pulling back and scrubbing his hands roughly over his eyes and nose, apparently uncaring of his injuries. “Your shirt is fucking disgusting.” He eyed the stains and wet patches and no doubt little traces of blood he’d accidentally left there. “What makes you think that’s an appropriate state to appear in?”
Steve just rolled his eyes, taking the lighthearted jab for what it was, a want to move on, to start snarking again and cracked open the first aid kit. 
“Your face is disgusting.”
“Yeah, well. You’re the one who’s been cleaning me up, sweetheart. So, who’s fault is that?”
He glanced up at the cut over Eddie’s eyebrow. 
“That might need stitches.”
“No stitches, can’t be bothered with stitches.”
“Stitches not punk enough for you?”
Eddie did glare at him for that.
“Don’t even. You know I’m not a punk.”
Steve grinned at him. “No?”
“Steven.”
Even through the heavy talk, Steve relished the sight of the slight smile that had appeared on Eddie’s face and his return to bitchy banter.
“Edward, is there a difference?” Steve shrugged as he fished for supplies in the kit. “Doesn’t seem to be.”
“To you, maybe.” Eddie flicked at a piece of his hair. “God you’re such a… you’re such a jock.”
“Wow,” Steve raised his eyebrows, “let’s add observant to your list of positives.”
“Assho-ow!” Eddie shrieked as Steve pressed a butterfly bandage over the wound.
“You’re a giant pain in my ass.”
“Only if you ask nicely,” Eddie growled at him, irritated and snappy, “you perpetual bottom.”
“Excuse you,” Steve snapped back, “I switch it up. I have versatility."
“Uh-huh.”
“But you gotta admit,” Steve flashed his most charming grin, “it’s a lovely bottom.”
Eddie scoffed but there was a red flush starting to creep up his neck. “S’not like I pay much attention to your bottom.”
“Oh, Eddie,” Steve gave a disappointed sigh, “everyone pays attention to my bottom.”
He didn’t get a response, just a bitchy roll of the eyes.
“You gonna call out of work tomorrow?” He dropped the cloth into the sink and crossed his arms as Eddie leaned back on his hands.
“Why? So you can mother hen me all day? No, thank you.”
“Oh sweetie.” Steve regarded him with mock sympathy. “You think you’d be lucky enough to get my mothering?”
“What if I die in my sleep tonight? You’d be inconsolable.”
“Yeah. Simply devastated.” He said as he all but pushed Eddie off the counter and herded him back to his room.
Part 2 AO3
@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut (I remember you showing interest for this one but I won't tag you again unless you ask! 😘)
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.
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moondirti · 11 months
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animalic (1)
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series masterlist
pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader rating: mature word count: 1.9k summary: he won't stop until he gets you warnings: enemies to lovers, injuries, kissing, minor ATSV spoilers, size kink (?), mentions of gore and death, not spell checked nor edited, honestly not my best work but the horny is all that matters notes: stayed up all night for this because i had to get it out of my system before finals. there'll be a few more parts, i promise i'm not this cruel haha
“I thought grace was a prerequisite for your little spider-club.” 
Your quip sounds disjointed – even to your own ears – entwined with wheezes that rattle your splintered rib cage. In all honesty, the circumstances don’t seem to be favouring you; he’s got you confined upon the wreckage of your own fight, hanging off the remnants of a crane that dangerously tips over a quarry. And though this isn’t the worst you’ve faced, Miguel’s presence always seems to make things more complicated than they need to be.
You’d had a stable hold on the beam, ready to pull yourself up and dematerialise to wherever he wasn’t. Until, of course, the asshole kicked your elbows off. Now, your fingers remain as your only attachment to the structure, shaking violently with their diminishing strength. Your torso isn’t faring any better, either – the bleeding both internal and trickling from the gashes in your hoodie. 
(You wonder if he’s toying with you, like a panther with its food. Of the rare times he’s assigned another spiderman to pursue you, they didn’t tend to drag it out for this long. 
But, you suppose, Miguel’s different.) 
He takes a small step forward, lifting his foot over your digits. He could crush them like this, turn the bone to powder and keep pressing until it macerates in the gore. You can’t put it past him, really, not if you utter one more self-sabotaging word. You’ve seen him rip through steel and silk alike, fueled on the resentment that simmers deep within his very essence. Yours is merely the same fate that’s befallen every other obstacle that’s dared to come his way. 
But the tension buzzes between you two, thickening until it’s palpable enough to taste. Miguel is quiet as ever, completely still save for the flickering light of his dimensional travel watch. You envy his position – that resolute stature, brimful of power as his shoulders square, his calf rippling with subdued strength, still stretched over your hand. You blame that, or the mask, slick with sweat and humid as it sticks to your nose. Or the glasses that slowly slip to reveal your squinting eyes. You blame anything apart from what it is; that fear that steadily begins to flood your senses, numbing it all into one, cohesive panic. 
You’ve never been good at life or death scenarios. 
“Or, maybe, the big boss thinks he can break his own rules?” 
The air snaps. With an infuriated roar, he lunges at you, razor-sharp talons swiping at your face. In your frenzied dunk to avoid them, your fingers drop. 
You plunge to the bottomless chasm below.
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Okay. Let’s try to get this right, one last time. 
Your name doesn’t matter. It hasn’t, not for a while now. 
For the past year, you’ve been on the run from the Spider Society. You don’t exactly blame them for it, either. Every world you’ve crashed has gone to shit, despite serious lack of trying. Food-barren wastelands, borderless warzones. Truthfully, after the mantle of Earth 7BB-1 convected in on itself, you were inclined to turn yourself in. 
Independant of the fact that Nueva York seems to be the only place you can’t fuck up. Regardless of the relatability you have with the residents of its lobby. You were bitten by a radioactive spider just the same, and for all the good you’ve tried to do, you’ve never been a spider-hero. If it meant that no one else got hurt, you really would have been able to cope with lifetime confinement.
(Greater good and all that.)
Would’ve. Could’ve. If it weren’t for Miguel O’Hara’s interjection, and his goddamn alternative solution, things just might have turned out that way. 
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You’re not dead. 
The realisation whips your consciousness into high alert, eyes snapping open to survey your surroundings. You process the light first, its brilliance piercing through the bromine-doused cotton that stuffs your skull. Then, it’s the pain that, up until this point, had been thrumming in the background. It crackles, marrow-deep, tearing down the tendons in your shoulders to the throbbing area around your ribs. They’re in doubtlessly worse shape than they had been at the quarry, the ache searing across to engulf your spine too. 
He had let you fall on your back, that dickhead. 
But– 
You’re not dead. 
It doesn’t take you long to figure out why that is. 
A red forcefield entraps you, droning its monotonous hum, partially obscuring everything beyond your own reflection. You can see the faint impression of a silhouette – no, multiple – stalking you on the other end, a great shadow court. They warp and grow with every passing second, gorging on your offered vulnerability, awaiting some wordless signal from the harbinger of death, to execute justice upon the one who’s been causing them so much trouble. Jess Drew. Hobie Brown. Ben Reilly. 
(They’d been more forgiving, once. Willing to negotiate peace, to treat you more than the screw up you’ve proven to be. 
His voice overrode theirs. Always.)
It’s easier to make out the devil himself – more so than the others. You’ve come to memorise the slope of those shoulders, how his fists clench at his sides as he circles you. You imagine the smug set of his jaw and those eyes, just as luminous as the cage you curl within. The puck at the base is recognisable, akin to the capture weapons he’s thrown at you previously. He’d saved your life, then.
On a technicality. You’ll bury that thought to rage over later. 
“How–”
The question hardly forms before you’re ripped in two, the atoms of all but your spirit splicing into one another in a defect of blue and orange. The glitch exacerbates the fractures that threaten to knock you out, racking through your system as it rearranges your matter into amorphous forms. It’s only when something is thrown into the enclosure do you snap back to. A bracelet clatters to the floor. 
“Didn’t know whether you’d be used to the glitching yet.” A disembodied voice remarks. It’s at a particularly whiny pitch – you assign it to Ben. 
“We… tried to get it on you, kid. But you–” A feminine inflection crops up. Jess sounds the same since the last you spoke. 
You glower at them from the corner of your eye – unsure if they can actually see you – and snap the day pass on. Your spectral abilities were handy at the best of times; to shift from the corporeal, coming into immateriality, makes the most complicated situations evadeable. You credit it for your continued survival, if nothing else. Yet to speak like you could control it, especially while unconscious, was pushing it. You clearly weren’t able to activate it when you needed it the most.
And now you’re here. 
“I’m not going to ask what you want, so let’s keep this short– y-yeah? Either you let me go, or this Earth’ll be the next to unravel.” Despite your intentions, the demand escapes you in a long-winded croak. You hear Hobie snicker, the laugh teetering the edge of approval. Anyone can tell the promise has no foundation.
“That won’t be happ–” 
“Leave us.” 
The room clips into white noise. You fail to focus on anything but that echoing order. 
His voice comes across clearer than all else, too, cadence resonating past any natural boundary, tugging your heart right where it’s tender. There’s that fear again, that singular dread, only ever triggered by his indifference. Perhaps more potent than fury, his patience gives away an all-assured determination. Deadly. 
You bite your cheek, steeling your expression into one of similar apathy. It feels like a child’s attempt at dress up, grubby hands clutched around mother’s lipstick, painting on a clown’s complexion. Crackling apprehension brushes across your most vulnerable parts; layer by layer, you’re skinned as the group files out. Bare nerves are all that’s left for your faceoff with the hulking man.
He throws another puck to the floor. His own forcefield conjoins to yours. 
His cheeks have gotten hollower, you notice, emphasising the cheekbones that are just as keen as everything else about him. He offers no smile, no grand boast of victory. Instead, he breathes – calmly, fixedly, and lets you absorb the overwhelming magnitude of his size once more. He’s aware of what it strikes in you, can see it in the way you falter upon every reintroduction. Miguel is colossal, a reality that has never been more apparent than in this cramped enclosure. 
You know that if you stop to ponder it, it’ll ruin you. 
Rearing on your heels, you bounce from your place on the ground, making a grab for his watch. He anticipates it, having caught the decision blaze in your pupils, and side steps, pivoting to gain the upper hand while your back is still turned. You rebound off the field wall, stumbling back when he yanks you by your hoodie. Your shoulder presses into his chest, and he moves to wrap himself around your form.
Your skin prickles. His body passes right through you. 
His recovery time is nearly nonexistent relative to your last fight – quick learner – but you’re still swift on your feet, bolting to his watch again. It’s a millisecond too slow, for his talons sink into your forearm when you start to pull away. 
Your pained yelp loses momentum as he slams your back against the wall, using a knee to pin your other arm in place, his free hand wrapping around your neck. 
He’s close. Too close. Your stomach flips, pushing up on your oesophagus until you choke with the bile that sears its lining. Your breaths are as deep enough as his clutch will allow, index and thumb cutting off the circulation on both sides of your neck.
Ichor blooms from the puncture points at your wrist, the warmth puddling at your palm, not yet heavy enough to drip down onto the floor. You don’t think he realises how deep his claws are, how near he is to scratching bone. You don’t think you do, either. It doesn’t hurt as much as it should, and while you’re sure you’ll regret not prioritising it sooner, you don’t think– Don’t think–
“I-I’m not goi…going home,” You gasp. 
“It’s not up to you, Wraith.” Miguel growls, chokehold loosening.
It hits you, then. Animalic. He smells addictingly animalic. Like musk, a blend of brine and hot air and hints of a patchouli aftershave that still clings to his jaw. Your eyes flutter, seeking all you can get of the latter. Unwittingly, you move in closer. 
You haven’t been this close to anyone in a long time. 
His expression oscillates between a sneer and a grimace, nose pulling up to reveal the very pointed ends of his two canines. Set side by side with plush lips, you zero in on the thought of experiencing the contrast with your own. 
He’s huge. 
Closer. 
Completely overwhelms you, in size and presence and–
Closer. 
Your ribs ache. Your back groans. You’re quickly losing feeling in your fingers, and movement – soon – if you don’t do something. 
Your breath weaves with his. He doesn’t reciprocate when your lips brush, but he doesn’t pull away, either. 
You kiss him for longer than you should. Longer than you need to. It’s firm, and not unlike what you expected. 
(World-shattering, all the same.) 
Your skin prickles. It takes all of your rationale to pull away – dematerializing out of his grasp, and into the portal you’d activated from his wrist.
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chapter 2 →
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sp0o0kylights · 25 days
Text
Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4
Part Three: link
First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link
The kid was madder than a wet hen.
Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 
Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 
He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 
The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.
Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  
Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.
They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.
Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.
Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.
Unfortunately, so did Eds. 
Still.
 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best
Gave space.
Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.
Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 
One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 
Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 
‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 
Nope. 
‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 
Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 
‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’
That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 
Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 
Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 
They did not.
He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 
Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  
The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.
Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 
Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 
(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 
They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 
Steve too.)
“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 
Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.
An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 
“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  
Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 
“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 
Likely a lot of things. 
It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 
“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”
 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 
“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 
Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 
Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 
And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 
“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 
“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 
Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.
(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 
“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 
Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 
Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 
“He did.”
“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 
“I did.” 
He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 
Wayne took advantage. 
“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”
Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 
“‘Bout trust.” 
Eddie blinked at that. 
“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 
“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 
“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”
Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 
Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 
“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 
Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 
He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 
“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 
Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 
Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 
“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 
After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.
“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 
That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 
“How long is he staying here?”
Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 
Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 
“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 
Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 
Wayne sat with him as he processed. 
Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 
Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 
“What if he finds out?”  
This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 
It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 
The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 
This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 
Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 
Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.
‘Shit.’ 
“He won’t.” Wayne said. 
Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 
Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 
“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 
Hoped that in the future, it would be.
Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.
(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.
Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)
xXx
Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.
He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.
A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.
He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 
Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.
The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.
(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)
Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.
The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 
Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 
Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 
Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.
‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.
Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 
He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 
Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 
Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.
Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 
Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.
Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.
The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  
Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.
It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 
The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 
Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.
Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 
Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.
Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 
At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 
(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 
That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.
Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.
‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 
It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 
Wayne rolled his eyes. 
“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 
Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 
“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 
It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.
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freedomfireflies · 4 months
Note
anything smutty for 404 🥺 maybe with some jealousrry or a breeding kink 🤭
How about both hehe
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“There you go…that’s a good girl. Deep breath for me, yeah? Gotta breathe, Tink, or I stop.”
“Har…Harry—”
“Uh-uh. What’s my name?”
“Harry—”
“No. What’s my fucking name?”
Your hands are trembling. Your legs are shaking. Your chest is heaving. And the nickname sits on the tip of your tongue, yet you swallow it down.
Lucas is only a few rooms over. Far too close for such a scandalous rendezvous, and you don’t imagine the sound of festive Christmas music will be enough to drown out your moans should you use the erotic moniker. 
However, when you don’t immediately obey his request, Harry’s hand comes down in a firm smack to your clit until you’re forced to choke back a shrill whine. 
“Say it,” he hisses, dipping down until all you see is him. “Say it, baby, or I’ll find someone who will.”
It’s a bluff, and you both know it. Even if he wanted to, he knows that nobody is gonna treat him the way you do. Nobody is gonna take his cock the way you do. And nobody is gonna put up with his fucking ego the way—
“Tink,” he warns again, long fingers curling around the base of your throat. “Do you really wanna test my patience? Do you really wanna make me stop? After you’ve been aching for it all day—”
“Who says I was aching for you, huh?” You pull your lips back into a soft smirk while he scoffs. “Lucas and I have been working all evening. Maybe I was thinking about him—”
“Bullshit.” The vile rejection is gritted between clenched teeth. “Bullshit, Princess, you don’t think about him. I know you. All right, I know this dirty, little pussy only weeps for me, yeah? S’why you begged me to fuck you even though he was right there.”
“I didn’t beg—”
“You fucking begged me,” he nearly seethes, accompanying his retort with a rather sharp thrust. “Practically took my cock out before we’d even left the room. ‘Oh, Harry, I need you so bad. Oh, Harry, fuck me against the window while it snows.’”
Your eyes narrow. “I didn’t…say…that,” you huff, leg hooking around his hip. “And you were the one coming onto me. Cause you were so jealous—”
He scoffs again, and it makes your insides twist. “Believe me, baby, I’ve got nothing to be jealous of.”
“No?” You grab a fistful of his hair. “Is that why you decided to stay here and help decorate after you heard him offer? Cause you’re not jealous?”
The look on his face nearly ruins you. And even from behind his glasses, you can see the insatiable hunger in his eye. 
“God, you’re such a fucking brat,” he sneers, tightening his hold on your hips before resuming his unrelenting pace. Thick cock stretching you open like it's the first time. “Fine. You want me to be jealous? Want me to say that I won’t share you with him?”
And even if he’s mocking you, the thought has your pussy clenching. 
“Maybe I don’t want to share you,” he continues, although a bit softer. As though speaking to himself. “Maybe I won’t. Won’t fucking share you with any of them.”
Your nails scrape down the back of his neck and he groans. A sound so beautiful, you swear you see the gates of heaven.
“Gonna fuck my cum so deep into this pussy…you have my baby,” he exhales. “So then he knows who you really belong to, yeah?”
And you don’t mean to, but you cry out his name as you brace yourself against the cold window.
“Is that what you want?” Another slap to your clit. “Wanna have my babies, Tink? Wanna carry me around? Wanna know that you own a part of me?”
You can’t think straight. Can’t fathom what he’s really saying to you, but it’s everything. Delicious and dirty and somehow, exactly what you need.
“Yeah? Oh, I know,” he nearly coos, and you feel his cock twitch. He’s close. “Then I’ll let you. Let you have my babies. Get you so pretty and pregnant. Make you mine—”
And you don’t mean to, you really don’t. But suddenly, you can see it. Can imagine having him in a way you never thought possible. Can see his hands on your stomach, can see him promising to take care of you. Be your only.
It’s quite un-Harry-like, and you suppose that’s what does it for you. Envisioning a life…with him. True partners. Equals.
“Ha…Harry,” you gasp before you’re cumming harder than you think you have in weeks. Flinging your arms around his neck in order to keep him as close as possible.
And he lets you, following soon after as you both grasp on to each other’s bodies and ride each other through the orgasm.
He’s beautiful. And he feels like heaven. It’s all you can truly comprehend as the warmth spreads through your cunt and makes a home in your pussy. As he keeps it there even long after you’ve both come back down.
You’re tempted to wonder if Lucas heard you but decide rather quickly that you don’t care. You wouldn’t care if the whole goddamn building heard you cum for him. If they knew what you and Harry really did after you’d snuck away from the decorating party.
And something tells you…he wouldn’t, either.
“That was…nice,” you finally whisper, pressing your cheek to his shoulder.
You feel him smile against your temple. “Yeah.”
“Kind of romantic, too. With all the Christmas lights and whatnot.”
“And the snow,” he adds.
“Yeah, and the snow,” you agree, smiling gently. “I’m never letting you live that down, by the way.”
“Live what down?”
“Oh, you know,” you hum, leaning back just enough to glance up. “The part where you’re so jealous, you want me to have your babies just to prove a point.”
True to form, his eyes roll, but he can’t seem to fight his smile. “Yeah, well…maybe I wasn’t kidding.”
“Oh, really?”
He nods once, touch dancing down the back of your neck. “Did you really think I was letting you leave without my cum still sitting inside this sweet, little cunt, Princess?”
Your lashes flutter. 
“Want you to walk back in there with him while I’m inside of you,” he murmurs, and it’s almost dark the way he speaks. Tempting.
Then, he pulls out…and lowers.
“Want you to think about me while you’re looking at him,” he says, eyeing your pussy with a certain fervor before his fingers are pushing the creamy offering back in. “Want you to feel me all goddamn night. Want you to go home and watch it drip out of you.”
Your head falls back against the window as he glances up.
“Want you to fuck yourself with it,” he whispers, and your chest nearly caves in. “Think you can do that for me, baby?”
You can hardly speak around the whimper stuck in your throat, choosing instead to nod fervently. “Yes.”
“Promise, Tink?”
“Yes…yes, Daddy.”
And he grins bigger than he has all day.
“That’s my girl.” 
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Hehehe this is fun!!
The next holiday blurb is for Mine, and it's coming tomorrow!! THANK YOU FOR READING 😭💞💞💞
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