#i swear i always forgot to do it last year
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i got better a while ago, now i’m just dealing with homework
-kai
screaming
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for you i'd wait forever
pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)
warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!
a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx
Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today.
And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.
For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.
That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks.
He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with.
Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you.
He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like.
You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.
Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose.
With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later.
That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out.
“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him.
He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten.
Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought.
Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—”
“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.”
“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!”
“Is it okay if we talk first?”
If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs.
“Is everything okay?”
Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words.
“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.”
Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—”
“I think we should break up.” He blurted.
You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?”
“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you.
The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside.
“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.”
“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features.
“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.”
You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?”
They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me.
If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months.
“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.”
“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”
“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
“Y/N, I—”
You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face.
Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be.
But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth.
All because of him.
-------
Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one.
His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him.
He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him.
“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better.
“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here.
“I promised you I would.”
“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship.
“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise.
His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.”
He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.”
“Humor me, Bradshaw.”
“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.”
His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever.
How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it.
“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.”
Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.”
“Who usually taps you out?”
Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today.
He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.”
“I wanna do it.”
“What?”
“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.”
“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.”
“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.”
Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him.
The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did.
He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.
He was home. You were his home.
“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.”
Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one.
“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—”
“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.”
“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.”
“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.”
He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.”
“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.”
“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.”
“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.”
“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady.
“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.”
“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”
“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.”
“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.”
“From now on? Does that mean…?”
“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”
Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it.
Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time.
He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”
“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.”
“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back.
Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.”
The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—”
Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—”
“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake.
“Hangman. Shut. Up.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!”
“You’re the only one talking!”
“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.”
You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years.
It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again.
His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.
And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot.
“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.
You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of.
But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car.
“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?”
“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.”
“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.”
“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?”
You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”
“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm.
“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.”
“I didn’t.”
“So you do?”
“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.”
His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!”
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#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw x y/n#rooster bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw angst#bradley bradshaw fluff#first fic in forever WHO CHEERED#it's me i cheered#when i tell you it was a relief to know i can still write things#ok shut up kait#ENJOY <3
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The Spaniard's Wife (Carlos Sainz x wife!reader)
Inspired by @charles-eclair16 's fic
Carlos Sainz had a secret for the past 9 years, but when he forgot to take off the one thing that can reveal everything, everyone has questions
or
in which Carlos let's everyone know that the rumors, in fact, are true
masterlist
N.B: didn't turn out how I wanted but I've been rewriting it multiple times and I think this is the best option, hope you like it...WARNINGS: swear words a lot, not proof read, spelling mistakes and really bad photoshop tbh, if I missed anything please let me know!
Faceclaim: Emeraude Toubia
Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris and 910,583 others
Carlossainz55: my wife and I have been friends for 20 years, we have been lovers for 13 of those years, engaged for 2 and married for 9. I have never been sure of much, but I am sure that I love her with my entire heart, I will always love her. I have known yn since before I could even dream of being an f1 driver, what happened in that one interview was disrespectful and just disgusting. No one has any right to speak any ill word of my wife, you don't know her and you never will, as long as she doesn't want you to. I will do everything for her, for her happiness, her comfort and for her ease of mind.
landonorris: tell yn I miss her!
Carlossainz55: leave her alone
landonorris: I'll tell her that you're rude to me
Carlossainz55: she's my wife!
landonorris: yeah yeah, you never let us forget it
username: yn been here since day 0 apparently, can't fight her now
username: YES!! CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS!
username: I want dts to make a reincarnation of their love story
username: we need a spinoff
username: yes! It'd be so cute
username: I can't imagine 16 year old carlos realising he is in love with his friend
username: she is every man's wet dream
-this comment has been removed-
username: she looks so pretty wtf
username: she's looks like a doll
username: wish i looked like that at 20 years old
username: her dress is phenomenal
username: this screams money
username: 2 different cars for a wedding
username: the third slide, holy shit
username: I wouldn't be surprised if the last 2 pictures are carlos' or her house, like holy fuck
username: both scream rich
username: mum used to say rich people look it and I never gave it much thought until I saw carlos sainz and now his wife
username: did y'all see the picture that one twitter user took? Their outfits looked so fucking good
username: YES! I SAW IT! I could never afford a thread on either outfit!
username: did you guys see her hair! It looks so thick and healthy
username: fr!
username: I want a wedding like that!
username: I want a husband like that!
username: I want a wife like that!
username: I love how he is not in one single picture 💀😂
Liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, Pierregasly and 1,209,316 others
Carlossainz55: 10 years since i was able to call you wife, and I will never get tired of letting everyone know that. I am in love with you, forever and always.
Charles_leclerc: simp
Carlossainz55: I don't know what that means
landonorris: ikr, it's laughable man @.Charles_leclerc
Charles_leclerc: don't pretend like you're not the same with your girl @.landonorris
username: damn charles really coming for everyone's neck today
username: bet charles is the biggest simp of them
username: he really making us feel lonely as hell huh
username: 10 fucking years, Holy shit!
username: no cause if I had yn by my side I too would be in fucking love
username: don't embarrass yourself, everyone knows you're in love without her by your side
username: I didn't ask to be attacked like that wtf
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 smau#f1#carlos sainz social media au#carlos sainz smau#carlos sainz instagram edit#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz twitter au#carlos sainz x yn#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz#carlos sainz wife#carlos sainz x wife! reader#carlos sainz jr
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Terrifying
Summary: Your gentle giant of a boyfriend Yunho doesn't always know how strong he is. This is proven during a fight between you two when he throws his guitar.
Genre: angst
Pairing: bf!Yunho X fem!reader
Word Count: 1944
Warnings: mean Yunho, arguing, swearing
networks: @newworldnet
© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
It was late in the evening when your boyfriend of two years arrived home from practice. You had cooked his favorite for him and then waited for his return. In the morning, he had said his schedule would end at 6 pm today. Now, it was almost 11 pm. The table set, you had waited patiently, but when Yunho didn't come home at 8, you resorted to the sofa, curling up on it with Yunho's hoodie he left laying there in the morning.
You didn't notice the keys jingle in the lock, nor did you hear your boyfriend enter the shared apartment. You fell asleep only a few minutes after you had laid down on the sofa and were now deeply asleep. Yunho only let out a tired sigh when he noticed you, he didn't mean to be this late, dance practice took longer than he had hoped. Seeing the set table, he then quietly put the food away into the fridge, so the two of you could eat it the next day. Contemplating whether to move you to the shared bed or leave you on the sofa, Yunho's decision is made the moment you shuffle. He gently picked you up and then set you down on the king sized bed in the bedroom, covering you with a blanket and then left to take a shower.
The next morning, you woke up cuddled against Yunho's large frame, a soft smile on your face, but then you remember the last evening, he again came home much later than he had told you. How many times did he promise you to be home early, but then break this promise. But you never said anything, because you knew that he works hard, it's normal to have late work and practice as an idol. You know that. Then why did a tear steal its way from your eyes? Why did it upset you that he came home this late last night?
Because it was your anniversary. Because it's the second time this year that he forgot such an important date. First your birthday, now your anniversary.
You tried to be quiet, to suppress the sob that built up in your chest, but his strong arms around you didn't let you leave the bed. Swallowing hard, you tried to shuffle out of his grip, but this movement woke him up too, causing you to wince mentally.
“Morning, love…” He hummed with his usual sleepy voice which, on any other day, would have made you smile, but today it just brought another tear from your eyes. You didn't turn around, just whispered “Morning Yuyu” and curled up. This actually made him frown,you usually would smile at him, turn around to kiss him and then cuddle and try to make him stay in bed with you. “You have schedules today, you should get ready soon.” A look at the alarm clock on your nightstand confirms your words, but Yunho shook his head behind you. “We don't have any schedules today and the next two days, so we can spend the day together.”
Normally you'd be happy about those words, but this morning, you just couldn't. “Okay, let's do that. Are you hungry?” Even your voice lacked the usual enthusiasm, even though you're trying to be happy to have your boyfriend home and for yourself for three days. And of course Yunho would notice this, turning you around, so he could look into your face while talking. The sight of your tears lets him stop and frown though. “Are- why are you crying, love? Are you in pain?” His voice filled with concern, he doesn't even realize that he's the reason you're crying this morning.
“Y- you really forgot, hm?” It's a simple question and while you swallow down the disappointment and hurt, you manage to give him a little, almost crooked smile. “It's okay though, you had a hard week, it's not your fault, Yuyu. We can celebrate it next year.” Those words cause his eyes to go wide. The dinner he had put away, you on the sofa, it slowly falls in place. It had been your anniversary and he really did forget about it.
Although, after only a few seconds, his shocked expression turns into a frown, then into something that looks angry or annoyed. “You know that my work will always be like this, y/n. I have to practice and sometimes it makes me come home late. You knew this from the beginning.” He said, leaning back a bit to look at you, which leaves you with confusion.
“I know that, Yuyu, that's why I said it's okay, I don't-” “Then why are you acting like I'm the bad guy now?” He cut you off, which is unusual for him. He always listened to you, never interrupting you when you spoke before. Swallowing to not start to cry in front of him now, you just nod and get up from the bed, but he grabbed your wrist. Not the usual gentle way though, his grip was a bit harsher this time.
“Hey, we’re talking, I asked you something, y/n.” Frozen in place, you just stay at the edge of the bed, swallowing down a sob before you try to answer confidently, but your words only come out in a whispered voice. “I didn't, Yuyu…please, your grip hurts.” You didn't look at Yunho, somehow scared of him at this moment, but thankfully he lets go of your wrist. The shuffling behind you caused you to wince, but he had turned his back to you when he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, so you quickly made your way to the bathroom. When the door closes behind you, you could hear a loud thump, he had slammed his hand on the nightstand with a little annoyed growl.
When you came out, he wasn't in the bedroom anymore, so you made your way to the living room, where Yunho sat on the sofa, playing a game on his console. He still looked angry, so you let him be and walked to the kitchen area, where you saw all the food from last night thrown away. “Yuyu, did you-” You started, turning to leave the kitchen, but you almost ran into him. “Why did you throw it away?” It was a simple question from you, but for some reason, it flipped something inside him, an annoyed look on his face again.
“Another thing to nag me about? It's not really edible, so I threw it out. Hand me that water, so I can go back to my game.” Nag him? You never nagged him about anything, where was this coming from now? “Yuyu, I-” “Yuyu, I. You what? Looking for another reason to cry about?” He mocked, pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before leaving the kitchen again, leaving you standing there, wondering what was wrong with him today.
You didn't know why he was like this, but you didn't like him talking to you like this, when you supported him all the time and never complained about anything to him. After a few moments, you follow him, swallowing the lump in your throat and stand in front of the TV now. You could hear the sound of his character dying in the game, but you didn't care. That is, until he stood in one move and started yelling.
“What the fuck, y/n?? You just ruined hours of playing!” It's the first time ever that he's yelling at you and it hurts. “I don't care, Yunho! What's wrong with you today?” You're not yelling, the shakiness of your voice present as you try to speak up, tears already welling up in your eyes, but you don't cry. Yet.
“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You wake up and cry about me being late, then you nag at me. Don't you think you should be happy that I'm working hard?!” You never before witnessed him this angry, and for the first time in the years you know him, you're scared of Yunho. “You know how fucking hard it is to always go to work, let everyone walk over me while I'm always nice to everyone? Be told that I have to practice more, to be perfect?!”
With only a few steps, he walks over to grab his guitar, holding it up. “And then, I come home later because I did fucking practice, and it's not good enough! No, my girlfriend has to cry about me forgetting to be home in time for dinner.” “It's not about the dinner, Yunho! I told you it's okay, why are you yelling at me now?” You tried to talk back, your voice isn't nearly as loud and stable as you had hoped though. “Why am i- maybe because I'm fuckin tired of you making me to be the bad guy here?! If it's okay and just dinner, why do you have to cry about it?!” With those words, he lets out his built up anger, throwing his guitar at the TV. With you standing near it, you flinch, eyes widen and when both things break and pieces split off and hit you, you can't hold back the sobs.
The moment Yunho threw the guitar, he realized what he did, his eyes widened in shock, real shock this time. Not only about your sobs, but also because he hurt you. All the anger subsided immediately and he took a careful step towards you, but you just flinched and stumbled backwards. “Y/n, I- I'm sorry, I didn't-” He whispered, his voice a stark contrast against the yelling only moments earlier. You knew he meant this, but you're terrified, dropping onto the floor in a sitting position as sobs shake your body and tears just run free. You didn't even register the pain yet from where the little pieces of debris had hurt you, nor did you care about them bleeding a bit.
“Please, let me- let me take a look…you're hurt, love-” You heard his voice, but only shook your head no, still crying. Letting out a heavy sigh followed by an own sob, Yunho quickly reached for his phone, calling his best friend and putting him on speaker the moment Mingi picked up. “Yunho? Yah, why do you wake me?” Mingi sounded as if he just woke up, but when he heard your quiet crying through the phone, he sat up in his bed, fully awake. “Is y/n crying? Wha-” “Yes, she is…can you come here? Right now?” It didn't need any more words for Mingi to hang up and hurry to rush into the apartment not even five minutes later. The apartment was not far from the dorms, which came in handy this time. However, when Mingi walked into the living room, he froze in place, seeing the shattered TV, the broken guitar and you sitting on the floor, crying and hurt.
He quickly stepped over to you, noticing you flinch when Yunho made the tiniest of movements. Mingi knew that Yunho always bottles up his anger and sometimes it just has to burst out, this time, it seems to have happened around you, which Yunho always tried to avoid. “Hey, it's okay y/nnie, I'm here. He won't hurt you, okay?” Mingi whispered, gently checking your wounds, which are merely little scratches and nothing too deep. Then, he picked you up to carry you to the bedroom, gathered some of your things before just carrying you out of the apartment and took you to the dorms with him.
taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkiliciouss, @bunnliix, @gong-fourz
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#kat writes <3#ateez#ateez fanfiction#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez yunho#ateez angst#ateez imagine#newworldnet
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"Can't wait any longer"
Tw: Smut, PUBLIC smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (Don't be silly, wrap your willy), quickie, swearing.
Summary: You and your husband Miguel can't seem to wait until after dinner to get each other alone.
"Ya'know, you've always looked so sexy in red."
You smile softly, fixing your earrings in the mirror one last time before turning toward where he was seated on the bed.
His gaze is already on you, filled with so much desire and love that your panties almost drop. You forgot how good he looks in a suit. Hair slicked back and the first two buttons of his black dress shirt undone. Not to mention his ass looked wonderful in those black slacks. Under any other circumstance, you would've had him laid in the bed immediately. But you hold it together.
Miguel watches you walk to him, hypnotized by the sway of your hips and the confidence of your walk in those damn heels.
God, he wanted those red bottoms in the air. Sitting pretty on each side of his head as he fucked you.
You can see the way his thoughts are headed by the way the red in his eyes seem to darken.
"No. Miggy, you promised." You playfully grabbed his cheeks and gave them a soft pinch. "You said we wouldn't miss this reservation. You swore. I got the shit on camera. We are not missing this dinner."
Miguel cursed under his breath. He doesn't regret the promise.
After all, you two had been trying to find the perfect day to have a date. But with Miguel so busy keeping the multi-verse intact and being the leader of the spider sociaty, and you were busy with running missions and leading other groups, there were hardly any days where the both of you could make time for each other.
Except for today. And you were not missing this opportunity.
"I know, sweetheart... Fuck, who bought you that dress? I might just kiss them."
"Well, I'm done using the bathroom if you need a minute with the mirror." You giggled as Miguel rolled his eyes, standing from the bed and offering you an arm.
"I'm guessing that means you're ready, mi amor?"
You smile softly at him and rise on your tiptoes to plant a small kiss on his lips.
"Only if you are handsome."
You should have taken Miguel's offer.
The whole dinner, you're forced to stare ahead of you at this chiseled, muscular, sex god.
You don't have to worry about Miguel, who remains on his best behavior. You have to worry about yourself.
You try, you really try, to listen to Miguel as he cracks joke after joke about his countless experiences. But you can't ignore the sticky wetness in your panties and the continuous throbs of your clit.
Miguel seems unaware of your distress, laughing out at his own jokes and wiping away invisible tears.
The heat gets so unbearable to the point to where you're one push away from ending this date early. And that push finally happens when Miguel looks up at you and flashes the overconfident smirk you fell in love with all those years ago.
You need this man right now.
Carefully slipping off one of your red bottoms, you raise a foot, hesitantly running it up Miguel's leg.
He cuts himself off with a slight flinch before looking at you, his eyes widened in surprise.
You bite your lip and peek at him through your lashes, hiking your leg up high enough to rub along his inner thigh.
His face becomes bright red and he clears his throat, straightening up and looking around in embarrassment.
"Mi amor? What are you doing...?"
You don't answer him immediately, letting your leg graze his semi-bulge that protrudes from his slacks. He lets out a soft grunt, trying to cover it up by swiping a hand down his face.
You lick your lips, red lipstick staining your tongue.
"I kinda have to use the restroom, Miggy..."
The grip you have on this sink honestly could have broken the thing.
You stare into the mirror in front of you, watching your husband's face as he fucks you from behind.
He'd lifted the back of your dress to rest right above your ass and slipped his cock out of his slacks for easy access before bending you over the restroom sink of the restaurant.
You both have a hard time keeping quiet. You muffle your moans and whimpers by biting your arms, nails uselessly scratching at the porcelain material of the sink as you hold onto it for dear life.
Miguel however, doesn't care much for quietness as he groans low without restraint, pounding into you with so much fervor that a loud slapping sound resounds around the small room. Your and his skin contacting with each hard and deep thrust, leaving red marks on your ass.
He stares at you through the mirror, cooing at how adorable you look.
"Oh, look at you Mi Corazon. You love it so much you're drooling all over that pretty dress. Making such a mess, pussy so drenched it's getting my pants wet. Oh no- Don't cry, sweetheart. You're doing so good for me. You can take it for a little longer, can't you?"
God, he makes you such a fucking mess.
Your body's on fire, drool and tears are drenching your dress, your pussy feels so worn and stretched it may never recover, and you're covered in sweat.
Yet you can't be bothered to care because your husband, Miguel O'hara, is rocking your fucking world right now.
You feel yourself getting close and are reduced to nothing but a desperate, babbling mess. You beg him, demand him, tell him you'll do anything if he'll just give you that sweet release you've been waiting for.
And when his hands grip your hips tighter and his thrusts become sloppy, you know he's about to give you exactly what you want.
And so he does. He cums with you and inside of you, throwing his head back. His voice cracks as a loud moan is released from deep within him. His entire body shudders and he takes a moment to catch his breath.
And you do too, spent and slumped on the clean restroom sink, drool and tears drying all over your face and dress.
You're pretty sure he just slutted you out.
There's silence as he pulls out of you, his release dripping from your poor hole.
The two of you make brief eye contact before bursting into quieted laughter.
"What the hell happened to having a 'proper date', hun?" Miguel asks, cleaning you up and fixing your dress for you. "I mean, not that I'm complaining-"
Before he can finish his sentence, the sound of banging startled you both.
"Hey! Whoever is in there needs to come out right now! You're both officially banned from this establishment!"
You and Miguel both look at each other.
"Well, shiet."
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in this life | choi seungcheol
summary | honestly, you didn’t really care what choi seungcheol did anymore. but, when his mom called you saying there was an accident, you found yourself at the foot of his bed.
genre | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; exes!au
warnings | swearing, mentions of hospitals, injuries from an accident (not life threatening), mentions of drinking, suggestive… for like a flashback, nudity (non-sexual and not descriptive), miscommunication possibly…, jealousy…, insecurities/self-doubt
word count | 13.47k words
pairing | choi seungcheol x fem!reader
minli | lowercase intended i literally have nothing to say about this. sort of a monster to write. i had so many ideas for this, yet little brainpower to execute! it was a fun concept and the longest fic i’ve written for this blog… italics mean flashback or past event…
update | i forgot a few things to tag under warnings, sorry :( they have been added
you were doing great, just great. it started raining when you left your umbrella back at your apartment. you were late to work, and you spilled your coffee on the way out of the door. things were great, and it had been seven months since you and your boyfriend called it quits.
you’d like to say it ended in a big blaze of glory, something movie-like, but it was just the opposite. you had sat down with seungcheol and told him that you were unhappy. he was always too busy and refused to make time for anything other than his work. as for you, well you were tired. when you told him, he sort of just looked at you blankly and just shrugged.
he fucking shrugged. great. so that was it. you just stared at him blankly. he wasn’t even going to put up a fight. two years down the drain.
“so that’s it?” you had asked before you left.
“yeah, i guess so,” he had replied.
and that’s how it ended, you packed up your stuff and went back to your apartment. you technically weren’t living with seungcheol, you still had your lease and whatever, but you spent a lot of time at seungcheol’s.
you finally made it to the office and clocked in. nothing important was going on today which was nice, but also this meant your day was going to be endlessly boring. at least it was friday.
you sat down and logged into your computer. “shouldn’t you change your home screen?” a voice startled you out of your thoughts of the hours to come. you spun around in your chair and stared at your friend minjeong. you looked between her and your computer screen. you knew what she was talking about, but you decided to play dumb. “what are you talking about?” you asked. minjeong sort of glared at you.
“that’s from your vacation to jeju,” she frowned.
the same vacation seungcheol took you on.
“yeah, it’s a sunset for jeju. what about it?” you huffed. she didn’t respond, just gave you a look. you knew that look. it was the “i know better than you, why aren’t you listening to me?” look. “seungcheol isn’t even in this picture,” you defended your screensaver.
“but seungcheol was there. that’s a memory with seungcheol,” she countered. she was right. you probably should’ve changed it, but whether it was with seungcheol or not, it was a nice picture. “yeah, it is, but we’re on good terms so what’s the big deal?” you blurted out.
there was the “you’re such a liar” look. “really? when’s the last time you talked to seungcheol since you broke up?” she entertained you even though you both knew you hadn’t contacted seungcheol once since you broke up. “well, it’s not like i keep track or anything, that would be weird,” you brushed her off. you could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “seriously, ___, i don’t think this is healthy for you to still keep remnants of your relationship with him around. it’s going to prevent you from moving on,” she explained.
“i know, just- just give me a little time,” you sighed.
“time? it’s been seven months! how about we go out tonight? you can get your sights on some new man. i think i overheard that changkyun is going out tonight at that new bar.”
“now why would i be interested in where changkyun is going tonight?” you scoffed. minjeong had a theory that changkyun had been crushing on you since he first joined the company, but you were too “lovesick” with seungcheol to see. “he’s so into you! i’m not saying to marry the guy, just take your mind off seungcheol. it’s his loss anyway,” minjeong laughed.
you wanted to believe that, you really did.
you had every intention of going out with minjeong, but the day was going on so momentously, you weren’t sure if you could stand up straight for another second. you both had to unexpectedly stay longer and work overtime, and it might have been the death of you. you heard minjeong’s cheery humming coming around the corner. “are you ready to get absolutely wasted?” she smiled.
“i was going for more of a buzzed thing,” you yawned.
“oh no, don’t do that. you get so quiet when you’re tired before you drink,” she whined. you looked at her, but she was right. you had about three different moods when you were drunk. one, loud. two, quiet. three, insane. and most of the time, the way you ended up correlated to how you were feeling before you drank. you couldn’t explain it, but it just happened.
you were about to offer a clever rebuttal when your phone started ringing. “one second,” you didn’t even bother to check the caller id. “hello?” you replied.
“ah, ___ thank you for answering,” a familiar voice floated through the phone. you paused. you pulled your phone away from your ear and looked at the name on the call.
mrs. choi.
“mrs. choi, hello, i wasn’t expecting you to call me,” you said almost breathlessly. you glanced over at minjeong and she stared at you, wide-eyed. “___, dear. i’m so glad you picked up. i need you to come over,” she sighed. she sounded tired like she had been crying. wait. she wanted you to come over? for what? “come over? what’s going on? is everyone okay?” you asked, logging off your computer and placing the few things you took out of your bag, back into the bag.
“i have hope that it will be. seungcheol was in a car accident.”
you apologized profusely to minjeong and left the office rushing to the seungcheol’s apartment. you knew the way to his apartment, to him, like the back of your hand. you punched the code in that bypassed the need to be buzzed in, and made your way to the elevator.
after you pressed the button to the fifth floor of the complex you felt your hands become inexplicably sweaty. why did you rush over here like a lovesick fool? you weren’t even dating him anymore. why did his mom call you? what was going on? the elevator dinged, alerting you that it was time to get out.
you made your way down to his apartment. 5-12. it looked the same since the last time you were there. you stared at the door. it had been so long since you had been there. your heart was beating so fast, you didn’t know what to do. so, you just knocked.
the door flew open almost instantly. “___, my dear, come in,” mrs. choi welcomed you warmly. you smiled and bowed slightly. when you stepped through the doorway your first instinct was to run away, but you couldn’t. you kicked your shoes off and followed mrs. choi in the direction of seungcheol’s bedroom.
she lightly grasped at your arm. “the car crash happened a couple days ago. we just got out of the hospital. he broke his right leg. it was jammed against the dash and steering wheel. he also has a bruised lung from the airbag, and a mild concussion from the collision,” she explained. you nodded. that sounded awful. where did he crash? did someone crash into him, or did he crash into someone else?
almost reading your mind, she added, “he didn’t hurt anyone else. it was raining the other day. it was dark and his car hydroplaned into a barrier. the cops thought it might’ve been a drunk driving incident since they found newly bought alcohol in the back of his car, but there wasn’t any in his system.”
you were still rendered speechless. seungcheol was the safest driver you knew. he always warned you about hydroplaning and what to do if it happened. why didn’t he do what he always told you?
you realized you were spaced out when mrs. choi rested a hand on your shoulder. “i was surprised that you didn’t come the other day, but seungcheol insisted that you were away on a trip of some sort. he didn’t want me to call you, but you’re his girlfriend! i had to tell you at some point, and you’re obviously back in town,” she exclaimed. “thank you so much for coming, ___. i don’t know where seungcheol would be without you.”
you’re his girlfriend.
what the fuck?
you certainly were not his girlfriend anymore. why did she think you were together? it had been seven months. mrs. choi was sharp, she wouldn’t accidentally slip and say you were his girlfriend unless that is if…
then it dawned on you.
for whatever reason, seungcheol never told his mom the two of you broke up.
fuck.
seungcheol was sick. he was more than sick. he was hurt, physically. and his mom only wanted what was best for her son. she brought you here for something. you weren’t about to make this poor woman’s day worse by telling her you weren’t dating seungcheol anymore, so you played along. “yes, i just got back from a business trip. i always tell seungcheol to call me if something’s the matter. i’m so glad you called me, i wasn’t going to come over for another day or two because of his work schedule,” you pretended. she looked at you fondly. “i always knew you were a good one, ___,” she smiled. it pained you to lie to her, but it seemed like the best option for now.
“we just got back from the hospital a few hours ago. he’s all set up in there. i’m not sure if he’s awake now, but do you want to see him?” she asked. you nodded quietly. you didn’t know what you were going to do in front of seungcheol. you preferred not to think about it.
“before you go in, i have a large favor to ask you. i understand you’re a busy person, but if you could, oh my i feel so embarrassed to ask this. if you could stay with him for a while. take some time off and take care of him because i really cannot stay. my father is ill and i must return home to care for him,” she laughed bitterly. “i would stay, and i would never dream of dumping this sort of responsibility on just anyone, but you’re his girlfriend. not saying girlfriends and wives are only meant for taking care of husbands and boyfriends, but i know you care about seungcheol. i just thought it-”
“yes, i can do that,” you cut her off. why did you say that? ���i can contact my manager and work remotely.” why do you keep saying things like this? suddenly mrs. choi’s arms were around you. “thank you, thank you, thank you, dear. i am so grateful for you, and i know my son is too. thank you! i must get going, but i already stocked the fridge. you can go in. once again, thank you so much. our family owes you so much,” she cried. you rubbed her back. “oh, don’t say that. you don’t owe me anything. i’m just happy he’s alright,” you whispered.
that was the first truthful thing you said in that entire interaction.
when you entered the room, mrs. choi accompanied you. seungcheol was awake. he stared longingly out the window on the opposite side of the room away from the door. “honey, there’s someone here to see you,” mrs. choi called gently. you wanted to hide, so you tried to. partially behind her and you looked over her shoulder. seungcheol tried to adjust himself and he slowly turned over to look at his mother. “mom, i really didn’t want to see anyone-” he began, but his eyes met yours and he froze.
“oh come on, darling, it’s ___. she’s agreed to help out some. she cares about you,” she cooed. seungcheol looked like a child who got caught going through the cookie jar.
due to the dim light, you couldn’t really see that well, but you noticed the large soft cast that he had on his right leg. it looked like he was having a hard time breathing, that was the bruised lung. he had some cuts on his face that had already scabbed over, but you noticed some dark spots on his pillow, maybe he had been picking at them. he had a habit of picking at his scabs.
but the most striking thing to you was how pale he was. he looked like a ghost, which was strange since seungcheol loved to go outside to read or watch people. what had changed since you left? you noticed a wheelchair and a pair of crutches.
“mom, i- why did you call, ___? i told you she was busy,” seungcheol asked weakly. before his mom could nag him, you decided that you could save this entire situation from becoming more awkward than it needed to be. “cheol, don’t you remember? i came back yesterday, but i knew you were going to be busy with work,” you forced a smile. you thought you were going to throw up his mother grinned and squeezed your hand. she made her way over to seungcheol’s closet and started rummaging through it looking for something.
you looked back at seungcheol and it looked like he might cry. his eyes yelled at you, what are you doing here?
if you were honest you weren’t sure.
you saw mrs. choi out while she continued to thank you profusely for looking about for seungcheol. “of course, no need to worry. seungcheol is safe with me,” you assured.
“what would i do without you, ___? i hope someday you can join the family officially. i mean you’ve been dating seungcheol for over two years now,” she grinned hugging you.
yeah, i did too, you thought.
she left and instructed you to just heat something up that she left in the fridge. you locked the door behind you and made your way into the kitchen. you pulled out a tray of noodles and plated them. she left you a few tips about seungcheol so you decided to look at it.
he has work off, so no need to worry about driving him to work. once he is better and the doctors clear his concussion can start working from home.
please make sure he is eating three meals a day. he’s been acting differently and hasn’t been eating as much.
for showers, there’s a cover for the cast because he can’t get it wet. i set up a chair in his shower, so he should need minimal help in that area. maybe just changing.
pain medications are in the cabinet next to the fridge. dosage is two tablets every six hours. but, if he isn’t hurting that much give him one, or if he isn’t in any pain don’t worry about it.
he has a doctor’s appointment in a couple of weeks to see how his leg is healing is progressing.
thank you so much <3 call me if you need anything
you frowned at the second one. not eating well? seungcheol always ate well. this seemed pretty manageable. you had already called your supervisor, who approved your request to work remotely. you did have to lie and say you were taking care of a family member, but otherwise, it was a mostly truthful story.
when you put the sheet down, the microwave had finished and you brought the plate into seungcheol’s room. he wasn’t looking in your direction, instead, he was looking out the window. “seungcheol, i brought you dinner. your mom made it,” you announced. no response. you huffed and looked around the room. you didn’t want to push him, but you needed him to eat. “i know you’re not sleeping. you’ll heal faster if you eat. your mom needs you to eat,” you continued. yet, to no avail, he still stared out the window, body closed off to you. you sighed, you wished it didn’t have to come to this. “seungcheol, i need you to eat. please, for me,” you pleaded. there was a slight shift, but still no response. “well, i’ll just leave it here, but eat it soon. it’ll get cold,” you sighed, placing the plate on the nightstand where he could reach it.
why did you sign up for this? it wasn’t like you owed him anything. why didn’t you just tell his mom you were broken up? so many questions were flooding your mind, so you almost missed his whispered question. “what, did you say? i’m sorry, i missed it,” you asked, turning around from the door.
“do you- do you have something to eat?” he asked, breath labored.
something in your heart stuttered.
you silently nodded.
“that’s good,” was all he said.
it was almost 9:00 pm. you had your plate of food, and you thought it would be best to run over to your apartment to pick up some clothes and belongings, especially since you were supposed to live here for a while. you would run in and check with seungcheol and let him know you were leaving and then you’d be back in thirty minutes.
you knocked on the door, but no response. you hoped that it wasn’t going to be like this for the rest of his recovery. “i’m coming in, seungcheol,” you called opening the door.
but when you entered you were met with an empty bed. your eyebrows furrowed. you noticed the empty plate of his dinner. then you noticed his wheelchair was gone, and the faint glow of light from under the bathroom door.
you didn’t hear the shower running, so maybe he was just using the bathroom. yet, something in your gut told you otherwise. you made your way over to the bathroom door and pressed your ear against it. you heard quiet sniffling.
oh.
“seungcheol? are you in there?” you asked. dumb question, but you didn’t know what else to lead with. no response. “seungcheol, are you okay?” obviously not. “seungcheol, if you don’t answer me, i’m coming in.”
“no, please. please don’t come in,” he responded finally. “i’m fine.”
“no you’re not. i can help, seungcheol. let me help. what’s going on?” you called. there was a hesitation before he spoke, “i- i don’t know how to do this.”
“what is this?” you asked again for clarification.
“cleaning. i don’t know to do it with this thing on my leg.” that made sense. you already knew he was going to need help with that. you just wished he would’ve come to you first. “can i come in?” you hoped he would say yes.
“no,” he said.
“why not?”
“i don’t want you to see me like this.”
“this isn’t the time to act modest. i’m here to help.” there was a deep sigh on the other side of the door. finally, you heard some shuffling and the door was open. you walked in and took in your surroundings. seungcheol was without a shirt and pants. he sat slumped in his wheelchair as he quickly tried to wipe his tears. you saw some bruises that covered his abdomen. you also noticed how he looked skinnier. that must be why his mom wanted to make sure he was eating. the cover for his cast was sitting on the counter, so you grabbed it.
you knelt down next to him, he wasn’t looking at you. you looked into the shower and noticed the shower chair. “seungcheol, i’m gonna put a towel under you right now, so can you lift yourself up a little?” you said grabbing a towel to put onto the seat of the wheelchair. he did, and you tried your best to arrange it. “can you stand at all?” you asked. he huffed and pushed himself up, and used you as a brace.
you guided him into his walk-in shower and helped him sit down. you paused and looked at him closely. he looked so tired, which was expected, but there was something else there. you just couldn’t put your finger on it. “i need you to take off your underwear, unless you want to shower in them,” you directed. he glared at you and mumbled something. “what was that?” you asked.
“i don’t-” he began.
“now is not the time to be modest,” you chided.
“no! i don’t want you to see me like this! i don’t want you to see me all broken and bruised! it’s not right that my mother asked you to do this! just leave! i know you don’t want to be here, so just go. it’s already humiliating enough,” he heaved. you felt your jaw tighten and your fingers clawed at your sides. you didn’t want to respond to that, at least not at that moment. “take off your underwear, seungcheol,” you ordered, crossing your arms. he finally looked at you in your eyes, and he pushed his underwear off. you had to help him get it over his cast, but otherwise, it was seamless. next, you grabbed the cast cover which was essentially a glorified plastic bag, and slid it over his bandaged leg.
seungcheol’s eyes were downcast again, and he refused to acknowledge you. his shower head was detachable and handheld, so you took it down and placed it closer to him. he still wasn’t looking at you. although you really needed to get some stuff from your apartment, you could stay. when you started rolling up your sleeves on your work blouse and slipping out of your house slippers, seungcheol stared at you incredulously. you stepped into the shower and turned on the water. you made sure the head was facing the ground as you waited for it to warm up. “what are you doing?” he asked. he almost sounded angry, but that could be addressed later. you snatched the washcloth that was hanging on a hook inside the shower and found his shampoo and conditioner. he leaned over and grabbed your wrist, it wasn’t harsh or forceful, just him. “what are you doing?” he repeated.
“taking care of you,” you said shortly. “now close your eyes. tell me if it’s too hot.” he released your wrist and there was that look again. you had to figure out what that was about. you raised the shower head and soaked his hair, and promptly began to lather his shampoo into his hair. he seemed to relax at that. you ran your hands through his hair like you used to. he liked it when you tugged at his strands. it brought him a comfort he couldn’t describe. yet, his hair was shorter now, not the longer strands that you were used to. you wondered what made him cut it, but you knew now wasn’t the time to ask about it.
the rest of the shower went without any hitch. your hands running over the broad expanse of his back. something about that moment was so domestic, intimate, yet you knew you couldn’t have it the way you wanted it. the way you wanted him. so, you pushed it down, just like the way you did when you noticed him distancing himself from you and drowning himself in his work.
you helped him get into some clean clothes and bed after he brushed his teeth and dried his body. after you brought him his pain medication with a glass of water to stick next to his bed, you were about to go out and run to your apartment. he saw you rustling around in your bag that you left in his room. “what are you doing?” he asked.
“looking for my keys,” you replied.
“why?”
“so i can go home and grab some things. i’ll be working from home, i mean, i’ll be working here while i help you.” god, why did you call his apartment home? it hadn’t been your home for so long. “i’ll be back soon. i’ll be quiet when i come back so just sleep.”
“no, don’t go.”
“pardon?”
“don’t go.” he stared at you like a petulant child. was this a symptom of a concussion? “seungcheol, i have to go get some of my things. i don’t really want to sleep in my work clothes,” you tried to reason with the pouting man.
“you left some of your clothes. t-shirts and stuff. sweatpants. just wear that. it’s too late for you to leave now. it wouldn’t be safe,” he shrugged but winced. that was the bruised lung. you didn’t know you left your things over, if you did you would’ve made one more trip to pick them up.
but…
seungcheol didn’t throw out the clothes you left behind. was he stashing them in case he had another girl come over that needed to borrow clothes? was he saving them for a special time to burn them? why did he keep your clothes?
no matter, it was no use arguing with seungcheol, and you were tired. you hadn’t even had time to process the fact he had been in an accident, to begin with. “where?” you asked turning back around.
“in my closet, where your clothes usually are.” he looked at you like it was obvious. why would it be obvious? you wanted to scream. a normal person after a breakup usually burns the things their ex left behind, or they maybe just throw them out on the street. they don’t keep it in the same place in the closet. you breathed deeply to calm your mind. now was not the time to address the elephant in the room. “i’ll be getting a shower then,” you said, eyeing him suspiciously. he just nodded and turned to face the window.
the shower was uneventful other than the thousands of thoughts flowing through your mind. you hoped that they would leave you and flow down the drain. when you finally got out of the shower, you realized you would have to walk through seungcheol’s bedroom to get to the couch. hopefully, he was knocked out. you slid on the clothes that you had left there. it was an old sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, but it would get the job done for the night. the smelled like they were cleaned with his detergent, and you weren’t sure if you loved it or if you wanted it off of your body forever. you tried the best you could to open the door as quietly as possible, and it seemed to work. you were basically out the door without seungcheol waking up or noticing you. that is until he did. “where are you going?” he asked. you hung your head, your hand leaving the doorknob. “to the couch,” you replied.
“why?”
now, there was something seriously wrong with him. you glanced around the room, searching for an answer. “because i’m going to sleep on the couch,” you scrutinized him a bit further. he stared at you with the same confusion. he seemingly picked up on the mutual tension and confusion in the air, “i’ll sleep on the couch, you sleep here,” he clarified. you choked on air. he must have more than a concussion, he had amnesia of some sort because you don’t just let your ex sleep in your bed, especially after you had been in a serious accident.
you had to snap yourself out of the trance you were in before seungcheol could even attempt to get out of bed, which he was already in the process of trying. rushing over to him and pushing him back under the covers was more of a feat than you thought it was going to be. he seemed adamant about having you stay in his bed while he went to the couch. you were getting deja vu or something to the fights leading up to the end of your relationship.
“no, i’ll take the couch,” he had insisted.
“no, this is your home and your bed. i’ll just stay on the couch since you don’t want me to go to my apartment,” you had refused. “talk in the morning?”
“yeah sure.”
“no, you’re the guest here, i’ll take the couch,” he shrugged, once again trying to push himself up. you placed a hand on his shoulder. “seungcheol, i wasn’t the one in a car accident,” you reasoned. “you won’t be comfortable on the couch.”
“just- just let me do something for you,” he muttered under his breath. you don’t think you were supposed to hear it, but you did.
“the best thing you can do for me is to sleep in your own bed and heal.” his gaze lifted and looked at yours. he looked utterly exhausted, and to be honest, you probably looked the same. he inhaled deeply and sat back against his headrest in concession. you smiled at him and before you could stop yourself, you ran your hand through his hair which he happily accepted. “good night, seungcheol,” you said.
“good night,” he replied sounding more at ease. in another lifetime, there would be more to this than a simple good night, but in this lifetime it was different. so much different than you ever hoped for.
“i love you, cheol.”
“i love you too, ___.”
the crick in your back was going to be the death of you, but oh well, you already called into work and took the next week off before you started working remotely. minjeong was surprised that you even agreed to this in the first place. “___, he was an asshole to you,” she pointed out over the phone. you were currently lugging your stuff down the hall to seungcheol’s apartment, phone dangerously stuck between your shoulder and cheek. “he wasn’t an asshole,” you argued. for some reason, the need to defend seungcheol still ran through your veins.
“he was, ___. he was,” minjeong sighed. you knew that she was right, but you needed to believe that the breakup was caused all just a big misunderstanding and move on. “i’ve got to go, minnie,” you sighed reaching seungcheol’s doorway.
“___, don’t- ugh, don’t do anything you’ll regret. he didn’t treat you right. he wasn’t toxic, but he was definitely neglectful to you,” she groaned.
“it’s not like i’m going to crawl back to him. i’m just helping him.”
“but why should you?”
seungcheol had some bad habits, and it didn’t always end up well for you.
“cheol, what are you-” you were promptly cut off when seungcheol pressed his lips against yours with an energy that felt unfamiliar. it was just the average evening, so you didn’t understand why he was kissing you like that. not that he had to have a reason to kiss you, it’s just that it hadn’t happened in so long. you had been with him long enough to know how passionate he was about, well, everything. but, this felt different. not saying it was bad. you craved him being this close for weeks, and he was finally in your grasp. his hands were planted firmly on your waist and he moved you to where he pleased. “come on, baby, just let me feel you,” he smiled against your lips.
call you touch-starved (which you were), but you couldn’t help melting into him. this was the most attention you had felt from him in so long. “cheol, please,” you gasped as his lips traveled down your neck. he pulled you infinitely closer and you let him. yet, something was nagging at you. your stomach began to drop as his hands began to slide under your shirt. sinking suspicions started to bubble up through your heart. “cheol, kiss me,” you begged, not wanting your thoughts to be true. he hummed and obliged. he pressed his lips against yours in this new fervor. the heat between you was becoming unbearable as your suspicion was correct.
beer.
the faint taste of it lingered on his tongue, and it made you want to throw up. for the first time in who knows how long, he touches you like he’s never done before but only because he’s intoxicated. great. you pushed him away. “did you drive home by yourself?” you asked gazing into his tired eyes.
“no, i had joshua drop me off,” he murmured, hands still not leaving your skin, but that’s all you wanted him to do. just get off of me, is what you wanted to yell. how dare you come here drunk and treat me better than you ever have sober for the past months, is what you wanted to scream. “i think it’s time for you to go to bed, cheol,” you opted for instead. he shook his head still grasping at you. “don’t touch me anymore, seungcheol,” you hissed, swatting his hand away and pulling him to his bathroom.
she didn’t sound angry, just exasperated. she had a point. there was no reason why you should offer your help to him. seungcheol never made time for you when you were together, why were you making time for him yet again? it was major deja vu. “look, he wasn’t nice to me, yes. i hated him for a long time, maybe i still do. but, his mom called me, so i feel like i’m doing it for her. not for him,” you attempted to justify. minjeong scoffed. it was a deserved scoff, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. minjeong was there when things ended with seungcheol, so she would know the entire situation from the most unbiased, well sort of unbiased, outside position. she was your friend, and it was only natural for her to want to protect you. you couldn’t fault her for that. “i just want what’s best for you, and i’m not convinced helping him through recovery is the best plan,” she sighed.
“i know. you know he hurt me, i won’t let it happen again. i have no intention of getting back with him. you’re right. he was an asshole. i’ve got to go. talk later?” you asked carefully reaching for the spare set of keys his mom gave you.
“let me kick his ass if he hurts you again.”
“i will.”
“talk later! i’m going to miss you at work. love you!”
“love you too.”
after you successfully hung up without dropping your bags, phone, or keys, you opened the door to the kitchen light on. that’s weird. you were pretty sure you left it off when you went to get your stuff. you kicked off your shoes and made your way into to kitchen, your luggage bag dragging behind you.
you were greeted by seungcheol attempting to push himself up from his wheelchair to wash some fruit in the sink. “seungcheol! what are you doing?” you rushed to his side. he glanced over his shoulder at you. he sort of gave you some dumb look like he didn’t know what was wrong. “you shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this,” you chided. “i can wash these. you need to go back to bed. you should rest.”
“i think i can handle washing some fruit,” he scoffed slumping down in a chair. you rolled your eyes. “it’s not about washing fruit, i know you’re perfectly capable of washing fruit. you were in a car accident a few days ago. you shouldn’t be pushing yourself to get up,” you explained. he just mumbled something under his breath and tried to maneuver his way out of the kitchen. you watched him carefully as he made his way back into his room, and you heard him sigh when he shut the door behind him.
you had a sinking feeling that this was going to be a long recovery process, for the both of you.
it once again time for seungcheol to go to the doctor. the past few weeks had been back and forth to doctor’s appointments. his concussion was going down. to say things were going well would be a stretch. seungcheol barely spoke to you. you didn’t necessarily expect him to be buddy-buddy with you, but it was strange. he always tried to avoid looking at you. you weren’t sure what you did to deserve this treatment, after all, he was the one who broke up with you.
sleeping on the couch for the past weeks was not ideal. working from seungcheol’s home office was not ideal either. it was weird getting on video calls when you were so used to walking to meetings with minjeong. seungcheol tried his best to not disturb you, but sometimes he would knock on the door and sheepishly ask you for help with something.
the drive to the doctor’s and the check-up itself were uneventful. his leg was healing nicely, and they even decided it was time for a boot, which was great because you could tell he was getting sick of sitting down all the time. “well, mr. choi, it looks like your lung is looking a lot better based off of the scans, and according to your…” dr. hwang paused looking in your direction. seungcheol looked at you briefly like was afraid of what you were going to say.
you weren’t necessarily worried about getting kicked out because you weren’t immediate family, but for some reason, you chose against saying you were his friend. “i’m his girlfriend,” you bit the bullet. you hoped it didn’t seem too unnatural when you said it. you saw seungcheol’s ears perk up, but he still didn’t address you.
dr. hwang looked between the two of you seemingly wanting to say something but didn’t. “ah, i see. well you’ve been taking amazing care of mr. choi. according to your girlfriend, you seem to have an easier time breathing. she also said you’re reporting less pain in your head. this is good, since we usually expect swelling and inflammation from a concussion goes down pretty quickly. your concussion should be largely gone by next week, but i would advise against going back to work for some time. you can start walking on this as soon as you feel comfortable, until then use crutches. but, don’t drive until i give you the okay,” dr. hwang rambled, turning back to his computer.
you could tell seungcheol was excited, maybe he was excited that you would be leaving soon. your stomach sank at the thought, but you didn’t know why. seungcheol barely spoke to you, he couldn’t even look you in the eye most of the time. so, why did you feel bad about the thought of leaving him? you were snapped out of your thoughts when you realized dr. hwang had asked you a question. “um, if you could give me a moment alone with mr. choi, that would be great. i can take him out front once we’re done,” dr. hwang fiddled with his pen as he addressed you.
“yeah, of course. i’ll uh, i’ll just be in the waiting room.
after what seemed like an eternity, the two of them came out. dr. hwang smiled at you, and seungcheol looked nervous, finally putting a little weight on his foot with the help of some crutches. “thank you so much, dr. hwang. you’ve been so helpful,” you smiled at him. dr. hwang reciprocated it and patted seungcheol on the back. “mr. choi, look out for yourself. i’ll see you in a few weeks,” he said. seungcheol nodded.
the ride home was quiet, as always. by now you had grown used to it. when you arrived at seungcheol’s apartment and parked the car, he grabbed your hand before you could leave. “do you want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked. hold on, what? “we can order some take out or something.” maybe dr. hwang was wrong. maybe the swelling in his brain was actually worse.
your lack of response must’ve freaked seungcheol out. “we don’t have to! i was just thinking it could be a celebratory thing,” he tried to backtrack.
“no! i’d love- no, i mean, i’d like to watch a movie tonight. that would be nice,” you rushed to cut him off. your heart fluttered at the notion of watching a movie with seungcheol. maybe you could pretend just a little longer…
“what?” minjeong exclaimed. she was not happy with the current situation.
“minnie, when he asked me if i wanted to watch a movie with him my heart fluttered. what’s wrong with me?” you cried, flopping against the couch, turning down the volume on speaker phone. seungcheol had left to get showered and changed. luckily, you didn’t have to help him much with that anymore. “you’re still in love with him, ___,” minjeong sighed. “i feared this would happen. you cannot let him get in your head! remember how he treated you before! just yesterday he wasn’t even speaking with you, he’s probably just manipulating you or something.”
you couldn’t fathom him doing that. sure, he neglected you in your relationship, but he was never manipulative. “i don’t-” you began, but you were promptly cut off.
“you don’t get it, ___! you’re in a vulnerable state because you still love him and you’ve been waiting hand and foot to him, so he sees this as an opportunity to make something out of nothing.”
“if i love him, how is it nothing?”
“because you’re going to make it nothing. you can’t just let yourself fall back into his lap because he decided he wanted a movie night!”
“i don’t think it’s that easy.”
“you’re right, it’s not. that’s why you need to wrap up business there and get back to your life. your life where you can be free and meet whoever you want. where you don’t have to worry about the asshole who treated you like shit.”
“he didn’t treat me like shit.”
“he treated you like you barely even existed.”
you knew she wasn’t trying to be mean, but it did feel like she was opening an old wound.
so much for that dinner you made. the time you wasted was eating at you as you picked through the remnants of your food. it was your first day off in a while and you hoped to spend some of it with your boyfriend before having to go back to work the next day.
it was your bad to even think seungcheol would be home at the time he had said. you stared at seungcheol’s now cold meal. for the fifth time, you flipped your phone over to see what time it was. 11:47 pm and no word from him. you sighed and went to clear your plate. you wrapped up seungcheol’s meal and put it in the fridge. after all, he would be hungry when he got home.
“hello? ___, are you still with me?” minjeong snapped you out of your thoughts.
“yeah, sorry,” you rushed out. “look, i think seungcheol is almost out of the shower. i’ve got to go. i’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“i’m sorry if i come off too cold.” she sounded like she was regretting what she said earlier. she knew how to read you like a book even if it was just over a phone call. “it’s alright. you’re my best friend, i know you wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt me. now, i have to go now, for real this time,” you chuckled and hung up after you said goodbye to her.
you jumped a mile when you heard a clanking noise behind you. when you whipped around you saw seungcheol standing there, eyes wide, you felt something stir in your chest. he was leaning on a crutch with his leg wrapped in the bandages. he told dr. hwang that he wouldn’t wear the boot to bed. dr. hwang was reluctant but relented since the break was healing nicely and the boot wasn’t needed at night. his hair was damp, a plain white t-shirt clung to his body, and pajama pants hung loosely off his hips. something about this image looked so familiar, yet so distant.“sorry,” he mumbled leaning over to pick up the bowl he dropped, surprisingly it didn’t shatter on the hardwood floor. “no, wait, i’ll get it,” you said, pushing forward, frowning at the precarious nature of his stance. he straightened up and watched you pick up the bowl. “how long were you standing there? i could’ve helped,” you asked turning to go place the bowl in the sink.
“not long,” he rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “do you still want to watch a movie with me?” you nodded quietly and made your way to the couch. he followed behind and landed on the couch with a thud. “what do you want to watch?” you asked flipping the tv on.
“um, i’m not sure. i haven’t watched a lot of movies lately.” he shrugged. this was going to be harder than expected. instead of attempting to engage in this painful discussion, you opted to start scrolling through one of seungcheol’s million streaming apps.
you scrolled through movie after movie with varying enthusiasm levels from seungcheol. “stop, let’s just watch this one,” he suddenly said. if you were being honest, you stopped paying attention to the movie titles a long time ago. so when you saw “the notebook” as the selected movie, your jaw slackened. “you want to watch this?” you asked, making sure he meant that.
“i mean, i remembered when you showed me it, and i rewatched it recently. i really like it nowadays,” he said nonchalantly. you had shown him “the notebook” a long time ago. you had to beg him to watch it, and you remembered how he ended up crying by the conclusion. but now, it was strange to hear that he enjoyed the movie. not only that, but he remembered that you showed him the film. it was years ago, and he remembered. “okay, yeah, let’s watch it,” you said pressing play.
you were getting major deja vu while you watched it. seungcheol was curled up next to you, and somehow you found yourself curled up next to him. this hardly happened when you were together, and it made your heart hurt that it was happening after you had broken up. was a car accident what you needed to be close to him? you didn’t need to think about it now, not when you could smell his shampoo and fabric softener. it was so familiar, but you knew you couldn’t get too comfortable. after all, you weren’t his anymore, and he wasn’t interested. yet, something was scratching at the back of your throat. an urge. a desire. a feeling you thought was better to push down.
the movie was long over, but seungcheol had drifted off to sleep about twenty minutes before the movie ended. you didn’t have the heart to wake him, so you let him rest for a while before you lightly shook him awake. his eyes fluttered open and held your gaze with an expression you couldn’t pinpoint. “alright, sleeping beauty, time to get you into bed,” you smiled softly involuntarily running a hand through his hair. he seemingly leaned into your touch while looking around. “is the movie over? why didn’t you wake me?” he asked. you just shushed him quietly and helped him up. he held onto your shoulders and let you guide him to his bed. after a bit of work, you got him under the covers and on his pillow. when you moved to get up, his hand shot out and grasped your wrist. your neck whipped back at him. “what’s wrong?” you quizzed.
“stay,” is all he said, eyes closing.
you sighed. you couldn’t give in to him. you had set your boundaries, you were here to help that’s all. but, the longer you were with him, you realized the reasons why you hated him melted away within hours of being around him more. minjeong needed to be here to snap you out of it. “of course, he’s being nice to you now. don’t forget why you broke up in the first place,” she would’ve said. yet, she wasn’t here, and you were weak for him. as much as you would like to deny it, you knew you’d always crawl back to him. in this life and the next.
there couldn’t be any harm in staying with him, right? it was just one night. he wouldn’t try anything. he wasn’t like that. he didn’t even feel that way for you anymore. he definitely didn’t seem too bothered when you gave in and slid under the covers with him. to your surprise when you started to situate yourself, you felt his arms wrap under your body and pull you to the opposite side of the bed. just like old times. he always insisted to sleep closest to the door. he had told you it was a win-win for the both of you. he could have the comfort of feeling like he was protecting you, and you got the nice view out of his window on the opposite side of the room. you assured him back then that you didn’t need protection, but you never fought with him to switch positions.
you had grown used to his arm around your waist each night, and after you broke up you longed for his presence. you had cuddled your pillows and called minjeong. everything and anything to keep your mind off the empty space in your bed. so, now when you felt his arm wrap around you and his body pressed against yours, you froze. why did the thing you wanted for the past seven months cause you so much discomfort? being this close to him was like stepping into the salty waves at the beach with a cut you thought healed. your eyes began to sting, and you pleaded with your heart to not start shaking your body. you naturally moved closer to him when his grip became tighter around your waist, but your heart cried for the rest of the night.
when you woke up, you surprised yourself realizing you had a dreamless night. your chest hurt, but your eyes were dry. you turned over and noticed seungcheol’s side of the bed was empty. his boot was gone, so he must’ve put it on. you didn’t hear anything coming from the kitchen right outside the room, albeit his apartment was quite small and his living room was right there too. you slid on a hoodie and made your way out of his room to find where he went. maybe he was just as freaked out as you were, so maybe he just left to get some air. if you were him, you probably would’ve done to same. you wanted to kick yourself for falling into his lap again. maybe he regretted inviting you to stay, and now he was disgusted with himself for letting his ex sleep in the same bed as him again. your rational mind told you that wasn’t true. he wasn’t like that. yet, that’s what you told yourself when he show up late to numerous dates or just forget to message you.
you heard quiet arguing as soon as you stepped out of his room. you looked down to the front door and saw seungcheol leaning against the doorframe. his body wedged between the door and doorframe, effectively blocking your view of who was there. you quietly shuffled forward, trying not to startle him. “i just don’t understand why you’re here?” seungcheol asked, almost sounding stern.
“i’m just dropping off some paperwork,” the person on the other side of the door said. the voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “how’d you know where she was?” seungcheol grilled, sounding more frustrated with every passing second.
“look, dude, i’m just here to drop off some stuff from work. minjeong told me,” the guy tried again to reason with seungcheol. you recognized seungcheol’s tone, he got like that whenever he was jealous, but you couldn’t fathom why he would be jealous. you looked past seungcheol and saw changkyun standing there with a case file in hand. “oh my god, seungcheol, stop it. this is changkyun from work,” you nudged seungcheol to the side trying not to surprise him, but you were still upset he was berating your work friend.
“oh, hey, ___. minjeong sent me with these files. let me or minjeong know if you need anything else,” changkyun smiled at you. “i’ll let you go, you seem- um- preoccupied. but, we miss you at the office,” he glanced at seungcheol who was scowling at the ground.
“yeah, sorry about that. thank you for bringing this around. this is super helpful. i was getting tired of reading pdfs,” you laughed. “i’ll see you later.” changkyun nodded and left without another word. you shut the door and brushed past seungcheol. you heard an audible huff behind you but ignored it. after you dropped off the case of files in the office, breakfast was seemingly the best option for you.
seungcheol was already in the kitchen leaning against the fridge. it was highly inconvenient given you needed to get in there for some fruit. however, he wasn’t moving. “what are you doing?” you asked crossing your arms. he didn’t respond, just looking anywhere but at you. “what’s going on with you? what was with that attitude with changkyun?” you grilled, but you were only met with a scoff. now, that was weird. he sounded jealous, but there was nothing to be jealous of. “what’s wrong with you?” you frowned.
“why does it matter?” he mocked. you squinted your eyes at him. compared to last night’s situation, this was an entirely different person. “why does it matter? it’s just weird that he’d show up here unannounced,” seungcheol shrugged.
“he was here because minjeong sent him,” you stared him down.
“why couldn’t she come then? just seems like it’s a cover for him to see you. you didn’t tell me you were talking with someone else.”
“because i’m not talking to changkyun. i’m not talking to anyone. but, why does this matter so much to you? it’s not like he came in the house and started wrecking anything. he just dropped some stuff off.”
“we miss you at the office.”
“what?”
“that’s what he said.”
“i’m not following.”
seungcheol sighed and pushed himself off the fridge and over to his chair, groaning and stretching his leg once he was sitting. “god, ___, don’t be blind. he’s obviously into you,” he laughed humorlessly. now you were even more confused. “so what if he is? i’m not,” you shrugged, opening the fridge to get your fruit and yogurt.
“yeah, sure. whatever, that’s not the point,” seungcheol huffed again.
“then what is the point?”
“that he tried to come here and flirt with you when i’m right here!” he finally snapped. “it’s embarrassing! he looked at me with all this pity when i opened the door. i don’t want his pity. then you come around the corner, and he’s smiling ear to ear.” seungcheol looked like he was about to cry. you wanted to say something, but all you could was look at him, confused. “you pity me too. everyone does!” he rambled. “it’s so humiliating. and, and, i’m sure that you’d be happier at the office where he is. he’s more handsome than i am, and i’m sure he’s smarter and kinder than me. you deserve to go out and just leave me here. you don’t even want to be here. i see the way you look at me. it’s not the same way i look at you, so i couldn’t possibly as you to stay. why don’t you just go date a guy like that? i’m sure he can treat you better than- than me.”
you stood there dumbfounded. your heart ached for seungcheol, but you couldn’t stop the boiling anger in your stomach. how could he possibly think so lowly of himself? did he not see how you were still so infatuated with him? did he not realize the reason why you hadn’t talked to anyone new was because of him? and for him to accuse you of pitying him, after all the care you put into helping him get better. to accuse you of not wanting to be there, with him. you wouldn’t haven’t been here if you didn’t care. you knew you cared too much for seungcheol, for someone who you knew didn’t even care about you. what made him any different from back when you were dating?
“you’re so cruel,” you whispered, grabbing your food and heading to the office.
there was radio silence for the next few hours. you would occasionally hear something, but seungcheol never knocked or tried to come in. the tip-toeing around each other was killing you. it felt awfully familiar to when seungcheol became distant from you before the two of you broke up. work was monotonous and nothing was holding your attention. all you could think about was what seungcheol said. you didn’t realize he felt that way about himself, or you for that matter. it hurt, and it hurt even more to wallow in it when he was right on the other side of the door.
you couldn’t be the same person you were seven months ago. pushing down your concerns, hoping they would pass. they wouldn’t, you knew that, unless you talked to him. he would be getting better soon, and you could put this in the past. you could leave again once this was all over, never to look back. you couldn’t take another heartbreak because of him again.
so your resolve broke and you pushed yourself out of the office chair and went to find seungcheol.
he remembered the day you left like it was yesterday. he heard you gather some things from your room and left without another word. “yeah, i guess so,” he muttered to himself angrily. “you’re such an idiot,” he continued. he didn’t even understand why he said that to you. it was uncalled for, especially given you wanted to talk about your strained relationship. he knew he was distant, but he didn’t know what else to do. so, he pushed it down until he couldn’t take it anymore, well, until you couldn’t take it anymore.
not having you around the apartment for the first few weeks felt like torture. he had drafted and re-written several messages to you and even considered calling, but he never pulled through with any of it. his mind was constantly unfocused on his work. the work he sacrificed everything for. the work he tried so hard to keep up to help you, help the both of you. he couldn’t bring himself to eat as much as he usually did, when the pit of his stomach was killing him from the inside out.
now that you were gone he constantly tried to take his mind off of you. he couldn’t let a breakup disorient him like this. he had broken up with other people before, but never like this. he couldn’t stop replaying everything that went wrong in his mind, everything he could’ve done to stop it. maybe if he put up a fight you would’ve stayed. but, he didn’t fight at all. he cowered at the suggestion of breaking up, and instead of facing it, he fled and accepted fate. waves of uncertainty lapped at his feet and eventually, the waters rose until it was unbearable. if you wanted to break up with him then that’s what would happen, no matter what ran through his mind and heart.
no matter the fact he had a little velvet box in the bottom of his sock drawer.
he was going to a party. he said he would buy alcohol, so he did. while he was driving he felt something shift within him. he thought about all the parties he had taken you to, and how all parties with you there were so much more bearable. all he could think about was how bored he would be. he loved his friends, but something was missing if you weren’t also there sharing a drink or discussion with him. yet, he let joshua convince him to come out. joshua had told him not to drown in any more work. joshua saw how the work was wearing down his friend, and he couldn’t take it anymore. so, seungcheol was going to a party he didn’t particularly want to attend, but he was getting there, even if he felt himself push the accelerator down more than he should.
but something stopped him from going to the party, and now he felt like he was floating above his body. he felt waves wash over him, and when they retreated he felt cold and vulnerable. he felt dazed and had a throbbing pain in his head, leg, and heart. he remembered the beating rain against his windshield and feeling the tires give out on him. he remembered your smile and your fingers running through his then-long hair. you told him everything was going to be alright, and he believed you. then, there was a rhythmic beeping next to him, some rustling by him, and your voice was gone. his head hurt too much, but he forced his eyes open.
in some sort of last-ditch effort of hope, he thought it could be you. you could be there fixing some magazines in the room or adjusting the blinds. yet, he opened his eyes and he didn’t see you there, just a nurse organizing some of the tubes next to him. seungcheol tried turning his head around, groaning. the nurse noticed and left to go get someone. maybe it could be you. no, that wouldn’t make sense. it couldn’t be you, and it wasn’t. it was his mother. she cried and asked him if he was alright. she asked where you were and what he was doing, but he didn’t have a good response to any of her questions. when she started to pry about you, he realized he had forgotten to mention the fact you were broken up. she had called soon after it ended because it was time for her to call her son, but he went into auto-pilot and told her you were fine, and he just never got around to telling her the truth. she loved you, and he knew that.
he definitely couldn’t do it then. it would break her, just like it broke him.
when he saw you standing at the door behind his mother, he wanted to burst into tears, but it would probably hurt his lung. besides, he didn’t need you to see how broken up about it he was. everything hurt, but it only hurt more when he saw you. you looked gorgeous, and your voice was like music to his ears. what if you had a boyfriend? the thought flashed through his mind. any person would be lucky to date you, but the idea caused his stomach to roll.
your hair looked so pretty too, but your clothes looked like a mess. he hoped he didn’t cause you too much worry. yet, he was worried now. his lie was going to be exposed. he saw the way you looked at him, helpless and injured. you wouldn’t spare him, not after what he did. his mom was talking to you just like everything was normal, but he saw the look on your face. you were confused and probably angry. he knew you, and he knew you would correct his mom as soon as you could. so when she backed away and went to get something from the closet, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking, and that scared him.
the last thing he expected was for you to agree and help. he also expected you to correct his mother when she went on and on about how you were his girlfriend and how she knew how much you loved each other. he could sense your discomfort anytime he was around, so he made himself scarce and tried not to be a bother. what you were doing was already such a help to him, and he had no idea how he was ever going to repay you.
he recalled when you pushed him around in his wheelchair at the supermarket, and all he wanted to do was disappear. it was his first visit to the store for a while, and there was something especially embarrassing about having your ex push you around the market, even if they didn’t know he had broken your heart. he didn’t know why he agreed to come. he would feel your hands brush past his shoulders as you would reach to grab something before dropping it in the shopping basket sitting in his lap. the tiny bit of contact from you had him going insane. he wanted to apologize for having you here, for his mom calling, for lying, for breaking your heart. he was scared, that if he opened his mouth, his heart would betray him and he’d say something that would make you run away again. but, he knew it wasn’t the time for that, so whenever your fingers graze his shoulder he swallowed whatever apology or confession (whichever came out first) down until it reached the bottom of his heart.
you were wheeling him past the bakery and he saw the sweet milk bread he would always get as a treat on weekends. maybe you could share it again like you used to, but he doubted it. though, before he could process it, he was clearing his throat. you paused and he sensed you looking at him. “uh-,” he paused, coughing. “can, can we get the milk bread over there?” he asked. you looked around to where he was motioning. you saw it. he felt you pause. maybe he shouldn’t have asked. “it’s no big deal, actually. it was a dumb request. never-” he rambled but all of a sudden your hands brushed over his shoulders and you walked over to the table where the freshly baked bread was packaged. you inspected one and brought it back, placing it gently on the top of seungcheol’s basket. “do you need anything else?” you asked, quietly standing behind him again. he shook his head.
for the first few weeks, it was awkward and humiliating. he couldn’t bear you at his beck and call. he could barely even talk to you, too embarrassed. he needed to get out of the wheelchair as soon as possible. he willed his body to heal faster, so then maybe the pain that festered in his chest would go away. one night, he woke up and he was parched. he had run out of water, he must’ve forgotten to get more before he went to bed. he also noticed his stomach was growling. he had refused to eat anything for dinner. once again, his bad. it reminded him of the time when he would come home late to a dark home. he was starving, but he knew you had eaten. you had long gone to bed, but he smelled the food you cooked. he looked in the fridge and saw his helping there. he sighed. he knew it was your day off that day, but he couldn’t seem to draw himself away from his work. got too distracted.
so, he needed water and food, but to get there he would have to get out of his room and into the kitchen. specifically, he needed to get past you on the couch without waking you. pushing himself out of bed, he reached for his crutches. he got them secured under his arms and made his way out of his open door. you had insisted on keeping it open, so you could hear him if he needed anything. but, he saw the way you walked into his room deflated, leaving his dinner on his bedside table, cleaning the barely touched food an hour later, and retreating to the couch to sleep after a presumably hard day at work. he wouldn’t be able to bear it if he woke you up now.
he stepped as lightly as he could given his situation, but you were out like a light. he contained a chuckle seeing you all curled up on his couch. though, he did feel bad. the couch was no place to sleep for a long time. if only he could share his bed with you and not make it weird… he quietly ate a protein bar and got a glass of milk. he watched from the kitchen how smooth your breathing was. he frowned when you began to toss and turn. he wiped his mouth and moved over to you. after resting his crutches on the floor, he sat on the ottoman in from of the couch, closest to your head. he leaned forward and watched your troubled expression. sometimes he would press a kiss on your forehead, but that would be entirely inappropriate. yet, he couldn’t do anything while he watched this perfect person in front of him suffer.
so, his hand was reaching forward and caressing your cheek before he knew it. your skin felt amazing under his fingertips. he missed holding your hand, hugging you from behind, and kissing your lips. he wondered how he could’ve messed up this horribly. he felt your breath even out, and he noticed how your brow un-furrowed. gently pulling back his hand, he smiled and made his way back to his room. it was only then after he crossed the doorway, he realized what he had done. the clear boundary he had tried to maintain melted within those twenty minutes of him getting a midnight snack. he didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting from you. he wished you would yell and scream at him for what he did. resentment. he yearned for you to resent him, but no, you had to come and be the amazing person you were. he couldn’t let himself feel this close to you again.
but, he broke his promise. just like he always did. he invited you to sleep in his bed after a movie night he suggested. after offering, he realized he probably shouldn’t have offered the movie in the first place, but hindsight is 20-20. it felt too inappropriate, unspeakable even. especially, after he caught what minjeong was saying to you before you turned on the movie. he shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but minjeong was yelling on the other side of the phone and no matter how much you could turned down the volume, he still would’ve heard it.
“he treated you like you barely even existed,” minjeong had said.
now, he didn’t want to believe that, but he knew it was true. working longer hours, barely seeing you, and coming home at odd hours of the night were all factors which were purely his fault. he could’ve requested time off, but he didn’t. it was his ambition that blinded him. the thought that if he worked hard enough now, he could be with you more later. but, he had forgotten he wasn’t the only person in the equation, and you only had so much patience. the patience he had wrongfully wasted.
your back was turned to him. he didn’t know why it hurt so much given the situation. being face-to-face in bed would be too intimate. too dangerous. yet, that’s all he wanted. he longed to feel your body next to his, to know that what was once shared between you was still there. so, he took a risk. he reached forward and pressed his chest against your back, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
he waited and waited for you to pull away, and much to his surprise, you never did. you stayed in his arms like old times, but he knew it couldn’t be like that. he didn’t know if he could ever have you like this again. the recovery period of you taking care of him was painful on a multitude of levels. he was giving you space since he already felt like a burden, and it appeared to him like he was the plague. it was for the best, but he still wanted to hold you and kiss you to show his thanks. all he could do was say thank you and quietly retreat back into his mind. so, he held you like it was the last time, which it likely was, and he fell into a deeper, quieter sleep for the first time in weeks. the waves retreated and did not come back for the rest of the night.
who was this guy standing at his door? why were you smiling so widely at this guy? why was this guy smiling so widely back at you? did he just sleep in the same bed with you when you had a boyfriend? so many questions, and so little patience left on his end. this guy was so handsome, with a sharp nose and intense eyes. he could see how you could go to someone like that, someone completely opposite of him. any hope of last night not being a one-off thing leaving his mind. the guy glanced over at him and gave him a look he was all too familiar with. the old ladies at the supermarket gave him this look. his mother gave him this look. even you sometimes. he was broken and mangled and people loved to look. so, to hide their nosiness, they concealed it with concern and pity. he hated that. sometimes you would do it, and he wanted to rip his hair out. he hated it when you would generate idle conversation or say his name like some sort of swear word. what ever happened to being your cheol?
the doubt came flooding back into his mind, and he was lost in the sea of his own thoughts again. the waves were back, and he didn’t know how to keep them at bay. the tide was coming in stronger, and he could feel every brick he had built crumble under the pressure. when could this conversation be over?
he didn’t mean to lash out at you and your work friend. it was the waves. the waves that splashed into his face. the water that fell into his throat and choked him. he had to spit it out or it was going to drown him. every little thing he had hidden away came out. the confessions, insecurities, and everything else that held him back now and back then. he just needed to get it out before the waves came crashing in on him again when you would inevitably leave.
“you’re so cruel,” you had said, and you were right. he was. how could he be so cruel to one of the only people who ever showed him unconditional kindness? it was over, and he knew it.
all of his memories felt disjointed. almost as if someone had glued them together into a scrapbook. you were trying so hard to follow what he was telling you. the entire time he refused to look at you. his hands were clasped together, face flushed. “i suppose that was a long winded way to say i’m sorry,” he said finally looking at you for the first time. “i’m sorry for treating you so horribly when we were together, and even now. i’m sorry for standing you up and coming home drunk. you’re right, i am cruel, and i will never forgive myself for how i treated you,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.
you knew he had problems with anxiety and doubt, but you never thought it was this bad. you were mad at him, but you wished he had told you. told you about how he felt like he was drowning everywhere he went. “seungcheol, i-” you began but he cut you off.
“i understand if you want to leave. i can just have joshua take me to physical therapy and my appointments. i’ve asked you to stay for too long. it wasn’t right of me. if anything, i owe you so much. you shouldn’t have to be forced to be anywhere you don’t want to be,” he said.
you stared at him. you had never seen him so defeated. when you came to talk to him, you didn’t expect him to be the one prepared with an apology. you just wanted to talk, but now that you began piecing together the things he told you. you realized how much he did care. he saw the food you made for him. he saw the effort you put in. for some reason, that just made you feel a little better. you always felt like he didn’t see you, but he did. this entire time. “what if i want to be here?” you asked, meeting his gaze. his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips. “then, i would ask you to stay. i would promise to treat you the way you deserve. i would make every wrong i made right with you,” he confessed, moving closer to you on the couch. he reached forward and grabbed your hand. “i'm sorry for being such an asshole to you. i would apologize every second of every day.anything to get you to trust me again,” he continued. “anything so i can be yours.”
your heart felt full. it was healing. for some reason, you believed him. minjeong would probably yell at you for “falling for his trap,” but you had a feeling he was telling the truth, that he wasn’t going to mess it up again. “then, let’s start over,” you smiled, eyes welling up. he lifted a hand and gently wiped the tears that threatened to fall with his thumb. “gladly,” he smiled. you pulled your hand away from the one he was grasping at, and extended it to him. “i’m ___, nice to meet you,” you smiled. he grinned, glancing between your face and your outstretched hand. “nice to meet you too. i’m seungcheol,” he said clasping your hands together. he felt the waves were receding, and by the look on your face, you felt it too.
you were out shopping for what felt like the fourth time this week. you just kept forgetting something on your list that honestly couldn’t wait until the next week. then your phone began to ring. you slid it out of your pocket and answered it. “what am i forgetting?” you asked as soon as the line connected.
“nothing, i was just wondering if you could get some milk bread,” the voice on the other side of the phone asked. you laughed quietly to yourself. “what’s the occasion?” you joked.
“it’s the weekend, and i love you,” seungcheol said. you felt your heart soar. you sighed happily and made your way over to the milk bread. you were still on the line with him, and you could hear him humming. maybe now was the time you brought it up. “so, you want the same kind from the bakery, right?” you asked, stalling.
“of course,” he scoffed. “the fresh ones from the bakery are obviously superior to the ones that one brand makes.” it was funny since he said it like it was obvious. you hummed and placed one of the loaves in your cart. “is there anything else?” you asked. you heard seungcheol shifting around. “nope, that should be all for me,” he replied.
“everything i’m getting is for you,” you rolled your eyes. he chuckled. you continued to chat with him as you walked through the store, picking up a few leftover things. you decided it would be a good time to end the call when you got to the register, but not before you brought it up. “look, cheol, i’m at the register, so i’ll have to go,” you said, getting in line.
“oh, okay, sounds good. i’ll see you at home?” he asked to confirm.
“yes, after i get back, though, can we talk about that red velvet box in your sock drawer?” you smirked.
“yeah, sure of co- wait! how do you know about that?” seungcheol took a second to process what you had told him. he sounded frantic on the other side of the phone, and it made you laugh. “oh, looks like the line is moving, i’ve got to go! we’ll talk more when i get back, right?” you smiled.
“yes, for sure, yes! we will be talking because you weren’t supposed to see that!” seungcheol exclaimed. “see you soon, i love you, ___.”
“i love you too, cheol,” you replied easily. because, in this life, you loved him, and he loved you back.
minli | sort of proofread! working on it… i think the plot makes sense… right… please say it does. this has sort of been my child for the past month or so… i actually used the max amount of pictures in this LOL ASLDKJ. please leave some feedback if you want :) likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated :)
tagging | @a-wandering-stay @cinnamoroxie @wonwoosthetic
#seventeen#choi seungcheol#scoups#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#seungcheol x reader#seventeen angst#scoups x reader#seungcheol fluff#scoups fluff#scoups angst#seungcheol angst#scoups smut#seventeen smut#seungcheol smut#scoups scenarios#seungcheol imagines
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indelible scars, pivotal marks
pairing: luke castellan x implied apollo!reader
summary: you might be the only person who actually knows luke castellan. you don't think anyone else is willing to try.
a/n: what if i told you i got yelled at a lot after writing this. enjoy! oh this is also my first x reader in the 5 years i've been writing who cheered. have fun !
Luke is fourteen the first time he can remember sleeping through the night. He’s barely been at Camp Half-Blood for three hours, skin still splotched purple and blue, Thalia’s yells echoing in his skull. There’s no silence, a steady hum of nature that’s leveled by the voices of people he doesn’t know, and he knows he shouldn’t sleep. They’ve lost Thalia, left her just beyond the borders of an unknown place, and it’s a risk to welcome the flimsy pillow they gave him. He does it anyway, eyes closing to the sound of Annabeth’s soft breaths.
The respite lasts one night.
By morning, he’s recounted the last five years more than he ever wanted to. Annabeth clings to him then, a known comfort. She knows the broad strokes of the story, could recount them herself, but there’s gaps from before her time, and there’s things Thalia made him swear not to tell. If she notices, she doesn’t comment, just keeps her fingers close to her side. He knows that’s where she keeps her dagger - he wonders if Chiron can tell as well.
Chiron brings them to Thalia, explains what happened and how lucky it is. Luke looks at the tree, the first time Thalia has stood taller than him since they met - something she always swore she would do one day - and leans back against it as Annabeth sobs into his shoulder.
Mr D sends Annabeth to the Athena cabin before lunch. Luke doesn’t need to be told to make his way to Cabin 11. He knows who his father is. His backpack is left at the base of a bed in the far corner of the room, a group of boys gathered around the area turning to watch him the second he walks in. They move away but they don’t stop their stares.
Sleep doesn’t come as easily to him that night.
*
You meet Luke Castellan when you’re fifteen, standing on the edge of the lake as a golden sun rises in the horizon. It’s your first morning at camp, your first morning admiring the sunrise in months, and you think you could find a home here. Within the hour, you’re sure the calm won’t be the same – too many kids in the same space, swords and satyrs and strawberries guiding the day along – but for now there’s sunlight.
“Breakfast isn’t for two more hours,” someone says from behind you. It should be scarier than it is, put you on high alert with the way he creeps into the space without a sound. “Just in case someone forgot to mention that.”
He’s pretty. Strong chin, dark eyes. On most people you’ve met, that’s where pretty ends. Not him. There’s this way he stands in your periphery; comfortable in his worn camp t-shirt, like he was made to live in it, to have it define him for an eternity. Very few people are pretty in a way that speaks of forever.
“I like to watch the sunrise.”
He hums. “I’m Luke.”
He waits, steps away, until you offer him a seat beside you on the grass. It was something you were told once, an eclectic art teacher draped in shawls and chunky jewelry, how the sun is only as beautiful as it is when shared with another. As Luke sits next to you, you enjoy the quiet you’re positive isn’t built to last.
*
Luke becomes a counselor that summer. Everyone saw it coming, the way he’s known to everyone and not just the Hermes kids. Whispers of a legacy, of a potential legend in the making, followed him already, two years at camp creating grand ideas for his future – counselor status just helps to further them. It’s not that big of a deal normally. It’s potentially defining when you’re the best swordsman in almost three hundred years.
You find him on his way back from the Big House that evening, heading in no particular direction but with a clear idea of where he doesn’t want to be. It’s something you’ve learnt to read in the last few weeks, the way Luke fluctuates. How he dips in and out of personas as if it’s possible to switch them out. It comes with renown, you suppose.
“Counselor Castellan, is it?”
He smiles something bitter. “So they tell me.”
Without hesitation, you take hold of his hand. It’s warmer than yours and you feel the difference in your bloodstream. Luke doesn’t look at you, doesn’t comment, and you lead him away from the cabins and down to the lake.
There’s maybe an hour until sunset. You’re almost attuned to it now, mornings spent watching it with rapt attention. Luke normally joins you, sword dropped between you. Some mornings, the thud of metal onto stone is the only reason you know he’s arrived, still so silent in his arrival that you wonder if it’s on purpose.
“Does it make you anxious?” You ask when the silence stretches on for too long, when Luke stares unblinkingly at the horizon for longer than he should. He blinks, irises shifting from a glassy bronze and back to muted brown as the film clears. “Did they even ask if it was something you wanted?”
He scoffs and you wonder if this is where everything changes. Luke always has things he wants to say, balancing on the tip of his tongue until he figures out how to swallow them down and burn them. It’s like you can see it play out in real time, his jaw shifting, arm tensing.
“Mr D told me it was a great honor. Chiron told me it was long overdue.”
“You weren’t given a chance to say no.”
It’s a pattern you’ve noticed, not just within camp but with all the Gods. Clarisse was sent a spear with no note, but everyone knew who had sent it. Annabeth’s hat was exactly the same. Gifts. All gifts. No receipts or return addresses provided. Life at camp was something to be grateful for, always, considering the alternative most of you had already been forced to live. To comment on it would make you an enemy of those too powerful to consider.
Looking at the tense set of Luke’s shoulders, you kind of want to say it anyway.
“I’m about to have all the glory Camp Half-Blood could offer me,” Luke says and the sun begins to dip below the surface of the lake. His palm is warm in yours again. “Why would I complain?”
*
There’s a flurry of new arrivals no one anticipated the next summer They come in pairs, mostly, with the odd trio. Always one unclaimed within the group. Always one who gets marched to Cabin 11 in the middle of the night, sometimes after hours of questioning.
You know the nights that it’s happened, taking in the way Luke’s movements are less sharp, the way he breathes more shallowly. A conservation of energy. It doesn’t affect you much until it does, the sharp sting of Luke’s sword on your arm as he loses his footing, turns too suddenly at the sound of your footsteps.
“This is insane,” you say as you press your shirt into the cut. It’s not bad, something that will heal quickly and fade into nothingness, but Luke locks his gaze on the red dotting your skin as if he doesn’t understand how it got there. “They can’t keep waking you up in the middle of the night for this.”
“The only other place they can go is the med bay and none of them have been beaten up badly enough to be worth waking an Apollo kid.”
“I’ve seen some of the kids when they’ve gotten here, Luke,” you mutter, shirt hem dropping as the wound stops bleeding. You glance up at him. “They could do with being patched up.”
He sinks down to the floor. You stay on your feet. “This is what I signed up for when I took the position.”
There’s this way Luke’s voice gets sometimes, sharp and low and just a little spiteful. A build-up of years with little mercy granted. That’s how it is now, speaking through clenched teeth, completely biting back the vitriol and pretending there’s no heat to his words.
He’s always been pretty in the sunrise, from the day you met, but you think he might be prettiest right now – lying to himself more than he can lie to you in the moments before there’s any sunlight at all. When you would let darkness spill into itself, Luke forces light to filter in. If you caught him at the darkest hour, you wonder if that would remain.
Taking in the way he digs his nail into the fabric of his pants, you doubt even he would know how to stop himself then.
*
You aren’t chosen for Luke’s quest. He finds you after the ceremony, face pulled taut and bag thrown over his shoulder already. There’s no regret in his eyes, no determination either. You stand straighter when you hear him approach, grateful that he cared enough not to take you by surprise for once.
“Don’t be mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad?” You say. It’s disingenuous to your own ears, the way it pitches, so you fold your arms across your chest. “Chris and Ethan will be great questmates. A band of brothers.”
Luke swallows. “Is that really what you think this is? That I wanted to make my quest a guys trip?”
“I don’t think anything of it, Luke.”
In the middle of the day, you can see him clearest. See the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood the way everyone else does. In broad daylight, there’s few things more noticeable on Luke Castellan. The slope of his nose, the straightness of his back, the comfortable weight of his sword on his hip – almost a tether to who he proclaims himself to be. It’s your least favorite version of him.
“I would’ve chosen you. In a heartbeat, I would’ve chosen you,” he says, brown eyes shifting from dim to desperate in moments. A plea to be heard. You know you’re the only one to ever truly listen when he speaks.
“Doesn’t really seem that way.”
“I just needed a reason to come back when it’s over.”
It stills the air around you. The words tangle themselves together in your brain, drown out the archers in the distance, the birds overhead. They echo and twist and they maintain their tone, the low pitch Luke uses when he’s decided to say something he doesn’t want to be heard. They bury themselves in the corner with the other times he’s used it, forever ingrained, and you don’t know what to make of them. How to define them at all.
He waits, gaze firm, until you nod slightly. You keep your chin low, determined to give little satisfaction to the situation. To Hermes giving Luke a reused quest, to the possibility of losing him because you aren’t there. It curdles deep in your gut, refusing to remain unknown.
There’s a moment where Luke hesitates, his hand twitching slightly, arm moving minutely higher from where it hangs down by his waist. Instead, his fist clenches and he exhales long and low.
“Promise to be here when I get back?”
“I’ll be really annoyed if you’re not the one knocking on my cabin door.”
He turns back to face you after he joins Chris and Ethan at the border. They’re all capable, with a history of working together. They’ll succeed, return to praise and glory and everything they deserve to have. The sun beats down on Luke as he nods goodbye and you wonder if it shines on anyone else at all.
*
The scar becomes a part of him.
It fades into his skin with time, going from raised and rotten to a streak of pale across his cheek. You overhear some of the Ares kids praising it as symbolic of his win, a prize of sorts, and some of the Aphrodite kids saying it makes him more appealing, makes him look stronger. You’re not sure what you think of it, tracing it with gentle fingers as it heals.
It becomes a habit, running a knuckle down Luke’s cheek each morning. Feeling where the skin tied itself back together. He never comments. You want to ask if he minds, that you’ll stop if it’s too much. The first few times you did it, in the days right after his return, he had flinched, features pinching together. Your hand had dropped, all too aware of the matted skin, how it probably still ached but Luke had taken your hand and placed it back where it had been.
His scar becomes a statement, a badge of skill that everyone at camp can recognise. There had been little debate on the truth of his swordsmanship before but now it hardly existed, undeniable proof the first thing people noticed when introduced to him.
Most people don’t bother to ask Luke about it. Percy Jackson isn’t most people.
“You got attacked by a dragon?”
It’s the first time in years that anyone has joined you and Luke at the lake this early. Annabeth used to, on the rare occasions the worst of her nightmares returned. It’s different with Percy, like being close to the water rewires him completely. It makes sense days later when you watch him push open the door to the empty Cabin 3.
“Last year,” Luke hums, one hand resting softly in yours and the other keeping a loose grip on the sword handle in his lap. Percy had wanted to see him in action after hearing the stories, so you’d both obliged. “I made a wrong call and I paid for it.”
“At least it looks pretty cool.”
The way Percy says it is different to everyone else. It’s not ingrained with this odd lust, whether for adventure or the story or Luke himself. It’s more muted, a fact of life. He’s not saying it to make anyone feel better – he’s saying it to disregard. A scar is just a scar to Percy Jackson, as if he’s known too many to care.
“I guess it kind of is,” Luke says and the three of you listen to the morning begin.
#🖋️ abi writes…#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo#luke castellan x you
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Once mine, Always mine
!possessive heeseung x !afab reader
warnings☆: !drunk reader, pet names: princess, pretty boy, baby; heeseung is possessive and SLIGHTEST bit rough until ending part, crying, swearing, unprotected, bsf to lovers, dirty talk ;I think I missed a lot>
☆☆long and even longer smut part☆☆
summary☆: your out in the bar with ur bsf who u have had a crush on for many years, you get drunk and start to confess yourself to him but another man starts touching you, heeseung cant stand the sight and reminds you who you belong to.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
You had about your fifth cup of beer, heeseung watching u as you finished the the last slip, chuckling at ur small eye-twitch to the strong drink. You were so lightheaded, you had forgotten your best friends name. Forgotten your name.
Slowly looking up you notice the handsome man in front of you. You smirked and leaned in closer to him. Touching him the soft material of his jacket.
"What's your name, pretty boy?" he widened his eyes, he didn't know you had so many drinks you forgot his name.
"Heeseung" you gasped, chuckling as that name ran through your head. That name sounded familiar.
"That's my crushes name!" you paused for a second as heeseung slightly raised his brows slowly smirking.
"Oh I see" he said as he leans closer as well.
"Tell me more about this... crush" You cleared your throat ready to describe him.
"Well, he's really cute and hot, Whenever he comes over to my house in his grey sweatpants he makes me soaking wet, I wish he could man-handle me and pin me to a wall with his big veiny hands, stretch me out with his load, but he'll never cuz I'm so ugly and dumb and-" he cuts you off by kissing you, grabbing a handful of your hair, making your lips part, giving him entrance to your mouth.
Your tongues tangled together, he starts sucking on your tongue like you were his dinner. Running it around every inch of your mouth. You ran out of your breath pulling away from him, staring right into his dark eyes. It felt like forever until you heard one of your favourite songs play.
"Ill be right back heesung" you say, all tipsy before blowing him a kiss, you get another drink and chug it down. He chuckled...
"Its heeseung" he spoke to himself, keeping an eye on you.
You were in the middle of everyone, swaying hips, messy hair, short dress and flashing lights, everyone was looking at you whilst you were only looking at heeseung, trying to lure him to you.
He's man-spread on his chair, biting his lips at he watched your every move.
"Fuck, what are you doing to me y/n" he stops talking when he sees a man approach you, and drag you to the bartender, getting you another drink.
You guys seem like your having a lovely time together, laughing, but it got weird when he started touching you, he pulled you closer as if about to kiss you when
boom
He was face flat on the floor with one punch.
"Pathetic"
You looked up to see heeseung staring at the poor guy on the floor, smirking at his work, in disbelief you drag him to a quieter corner, still contaminated by the alcohol.
"Why would you"- hiccup "do that heesung" you said pointing a finger in his face.
He wraps his hands around your waist, as you wrap your hands around his neck, he pushes you to the wall, roughly kissing you, rubbing his raging boner on you.
"cant get enough of you"
He said in between kisses, you nodded you head, going back in for another hungry kiss, not wanting to stop the moment as it felt like forever since you've kissed someone.
"lets continue this at home baby"
You were sitting in the front of his car, rubbing your thighs together whilst whimpering for him to hurry up and get to his apartment. He grabs your thighs separating them with just two fingers. You look up at him to see his face so angry but so full of lust.
He turns back focusing on driving again.
"Gonna fuck you so hard you brat, gonna make your little cunt all red and shiny, 'm gonna have you on your knees begging for me"
He starts driving again, speeding through the highway, before finally reaching his luxury apartment, he quickly runs out the car, going to your side and helping you up.
As soon as he walks in, you both take off your outdoor clothing, he grabs your hand dragging you to his bedroom, he pushes you flat on his bed before hovering above you.
"fuck I've wanted to do this so long y/n" he pecks your lips, you tug at his jeans which he takes of in an instant. They weren't doing a very good job hiding his bulge, but damnn.
He was huge.
"your abs are nice" you say with dozy eyes, motivating him more as you has already took your clothes off leaving you with your light purple lingerie. He noticed it as soon as he looked up.
"you wore that for me right princess?" he says, climbing on the bed again as he pulls down your bra, circling his tongue around one of your nipple. You moaned at the surprising touch, nodding you head at his question.
"Come here, come sit on my dick" He's at the edge of the bed manspreading again you smirked again, making your way slowly to him.
"You're so hot when you spread your legs like that" He grins, holding your hips making you sink onto him both of you letting out pleasurable moans as he stretched you out.
"that feels good, yeah princess?" he slowly starts moving you up and down onto him, you look down in embarrassment as you just realised that he was your best friend but he stops you.
"Eyes up here baby" that nickname goes straight to your core pleasuring you even more as he starts thrusting up into you. You cant even look at him in the eye as he's leaned back a bit, elbows supporting him, his brows are forced together as he bits down on his already red, plump, lips.
"What happened, realised who I am yet?" he chuckles, grabs your hips and starts pounding into you, you start moaning louder, like you were in cloud 9 with the man you've had a crush on for agess.
"Fuck hee- just shut up" you manage to make it out between moan he scoffs.
"Realised your fucking your best friend and you carry on, I see who you are y/n, such a slut, do anything to get filled up wont you" you nod your head, tears rolling down your face in embarrassment.
He pulls out of you earning a whine but lays you on your stomach before pulling you up by your hips and charged into you with no remorse.
"Heeseung!" you yelled as he starts ranting into you again, so close to his release he snakes his hands around you until he reaches your core rubbing up your folds quickly, huffing, and swearing under his breath, you other hand are sobbing because of his animalistic speed.
"Don't cry babyy- fuck- you know it feels so goo- oh fuck" he cums inside of you, shooting his cream right into you, you follow right after, legs trembling. Your neighbours definitely know what your are doing as your practically screaming his name.
He pulls out slowly, laying you on your back, following the same actions he looks at you and you do the same. Both trying to catch your breath but he breaks the silence
"I'm your boyfriend now, right?" he bits his lips at you, you cover your face in embarrassment.
"Why are you so hot" you say under your breath.
"What was that?" he has a huge grin on his face.
"You are my boyfriend" you've moved you hand away from your face and winked at him.
"Heeseung?"
"You got my name right this time" a few seconds past and he starts laughing at his own joke, you hit his chest in annoyance. "gosh your such a tease" you turn away from him but he finds it more funny, putting his arms around you.
He comes closer to your ear,
"y/n?"
you hum in response, dozing off.
"your mine right?" you nod,
he smiled to himself, kissing the back of your head, he thinks to himself...
'once mine, always mine' *cutely smirks*
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆TY FOR READING BABES (I love all of you)☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
(heeseung is so fine)
taglist☆☆: @heeoao @deobitifull @rayofsunshineeee @dilllima @daekkislatte @heelahoops @ke4s @mrandromeda @chubbypeach2111 @wonsbear @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @green-agent @chiiiiiiiiis @mayamarylhs
If your name isn't underlined then I couldn't find it :(
#enha x reader#enhypen#enhyphen hard thoughts#enhyphen x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen heeseung#heeseung smut#lee heesung x reader#heeseung x reader#heeseung
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my favourite birthday girl | j.fisher x reader
request: i would like to request can it be where jere and i are best friends and its my bday belly and conrad throw a surprise bday party for me at the becks beach house and jeremiah & i go upstairs and we go in his bedroom he confesses that he liked me since last summer and i have my first time with jere trying different sex positions like hes on top of me and im on top of him riding him & doing cowgirl style position lots of kissing can it be smut/angst and is it okay if i include my name and if not you can do y/n thanks babe❤️❤️❤️❤️🫶🏻🥰
a/n: i fricking LOVE this!! i had so much fun writing it and i hope you all enjoy!
warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), oral (fem! receiving), swearing, alcohol consumption, and jeremiah being a total sweetheart
—
the sun was shining brightly through the windows of my bedroom, the morning breeze coming through smelling of sea salt. i flutter my eyes open, taking in the warmth of the summer. i reach for my phone that was charging by my bed side. the moment the lockscreen wakes, it’s full of birthday messages.
i feel myself smile as i go through the individual texts from all my friends back home in maine. i respond to them all, thanking each of them for the kind and loving messages.
after doing so, i finally decide that it’s time for me to get out of bed. i stretch out the slumber from my body before crawling out of the warm bed. i grab my phone and my bluetooth speaker and head over to my bathroom to start my birthday right.
cruel summer by taylor swift starts playing loudly as i pull off my pajamas, which was in reality one of jeremiah’s old t-shirts. i decide to text my friends to see what the plans were for the day, assuming they had something in mind.
—
SUMMER GANG☀️🌊🫶
y/n!
goodmorning guys!! what are the plans for today?
stevie:
con and i are going fishing at the pier today
belly <3:
i told my mom that i’ll go to the store with her today!! sorry girl!
y/n!:
that’s fine haha have fun! tell laur i said hi:)
j:
i should be available today i think
connie:
i thought ur coming fishing?
stevie:
yeah!! boys trip!!
belly <3:
wow i’ve nvr seen us all so busy lol
j:
wdym it’s a regular day
connie:
nvm mom says u need to clean ur room jere
stevie:
LOL
belly <3:
so true, it’s gross jeremiah
j:
shut upp
urs isn’t any better bells
belly <3:
:(
y/n!:
stop being mean j
—
i close my phone, a bit disappointed that it appeared that all my friends forgot about my birthday. i try to shake it off and assume that they’re all busy, so remembering a birthday isn’t that big of a deal.
i step into my shower, washing my hair with my coconut shampoo and conditioner, lathering my body with body wash, and shaving every inch of my body. i sing to taylor swift as i shower, feeling my muscles relax in the warm water. i dry myself off with a towel and pull on a cute purple summer dress that i had gotten earlier last week.
after putting on some makeup and doing my hair, i figured that i was ready to go downstairs to see my family. at least they would remember my birthday.
you only turn seventeen once, plus laurel, susannah, and my mom always told me that seventeen is an amazing year.
my mom was preparing my favourite smoothie bowl when i got to the kitchen. her face lit up after seeing me turn the corner and a smile drawn up her face, “happy birthday, my babygirl!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight embrace.
i hug her back, “thank you, momma!”
she hands me the beautiful smoothie bowl, “here you go, sugar! let me go get you your presents!”
my mom scurries away to her office before returning with multiple gifts all wrapped up in colourful gift wrap. she places them on the kitchen island before sitting down beside me.
i was already half way done my breakfast when my dad and baby sister came into the kitchen.
“happy seventeenth, babydoll” my dad grins, planting a kiss on my forehead, “i can’t believe how grown up you are already.”
“happy birthday sissy!” my four year old sister yells, hugging my leg. i ruffle her hair, thanking the both of them.
my mom urges me to open up the presents, she had always been a huge gift giver — seeing people’s reactions were her favourite thing. i open the sealed boxes, revealing lululemon clothing, a new ipad, gorgeous jewelry, and some makeup products that i’ve been wanting to get.
“mom!” i exclaim, in shock of the overwhelming amount of gifts, “you didn’t have to!”
“oh, honey,” she coos, brushing my hair, “it’s your seventeenth birthday! of course i had to, do you like them?”
i look at her with my mouth opened agape, “yes, yes! of course i love them all! you know me so well, thank you!”
my arms wrap around my mom, squeezing her tight.
“my first baby,” she whispers into my ear so my sister, lindsay, doesn’t hear her, “i love you with my whole heart.”
i finish up the rest of my breakfast, while also admiring my new items. my dad also takes a few photos of us, most likely to post on his facebook page later. luckily, i look decent right now.
“eat up,” my dad says to me, “your friends are probably waiting for you.”
i shrug, “they’re all busy today.”
my mom turns to me with a raised eyebrow, “seriously? do you want me to call susannah?”
i shake my head quickly, “no! it’s alright, really.”
“i’m sorry, baby” my dad squeezes my shoulder, “you can hang out with us today.”
i give him a small smile, “that sounds good.”
the rest of the day was uneventful, well not exactly. it was moreso just a typical day for us. my sister and i went swimming in our pool, i watched tv with my parents, and scrolled through my phone a ton. i really didn’t want to confront my friends about them forgetting my birthday, it would’ve been immature was what i told myself. it’s not like i’m six anymore.
i was laying on my bed when i received a text message.
—
j:
heyy pretty
wanna come over? we just came back from fishing 🎣
y/n!:
sure :)
j:
awesome! see you soon!!
also wear something nice ;)
y/n!:
why?
j:
not that you don’t always look nice!!!
my mom wants to take photos or smt lol
y/n!:
oooook
—
my brows furrow in slight confusion of the request but i shrug it off. i get up from my laying position and go to my closet to find something ‘nice’. i find a black satin slip dress that i brought from back home, i figured this would be nice enough. i put it on and look at myself in front of my mirror.
i smooth down the material of the dress, checking how it looks from the side and from behind. i silently pray that jeremiah would like it, i’ve overheard him, conrad, and steven talk about how jeremiah is an ass man multiple times — considering how the satin material of the dress perfectly fits my bum, i’m convinced he’ll appreciate it.
i grab my phone, sunglasses, and my favourite lip gloss before heading downstairs. i see my parents cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie together with my sister fast asleep in the space next to them.
i slide on my white converse and head over to them, “i’m going over to the fishers.” i tell them. they smile and remind me to have fun and to be home by two am.
the walk over to the fisher summer home is brief, a quick five minute walk. them living only two houses over from mine always came in handy. i open up the front door before my vision became black.
“do you trust me?” he says, jeremiah’s hands clamped over my eyes.
“if you ruin my mascara, j, i might cry.” i joke, “yes, i do trust you.”
“okay, good.” i can hear his infamous smile in his voice, “come with me.”
he guides me slowly through the house, his hands still over my eyes. jeremiah lifts them off and it takes me a moment before noticing all the decorations put up around the kitchen. there are streamers hanging from the walls and across the ceilings, so many pretty balloons in every corner of the room, a huge ‘happy birthday’ sign hanging on the cupboards.
my hand flyes to clamp over my open mouth, “oh my god!”
steven, belly, laurel, susannah, and conrad all jump up from their hiding spot behind the kitchen island.
“surprise!” they all scream out. i smile widely, taking in everything,
“you guys!” i gush, as im being pulled into a hug from jeremiah, “thank you!”
his muscular arms hold me and he plants two kisses on my hair, “did you really think we forgot your birthday, pretty girl?”
i laugh, “well maybe! you guys are forgetful sometimes… like the time you forgot belly and i at the walmart!”
he rolls his eyes playfully, “oh shush, that was one time!”
“we never forget birthdays here.” susannah giggles before also hugging me, “happy birthday my gorgeous and beaming girl.”
everyone takes their turn in hugging me and wishing me a happy birthday. i thank each of them individually, the smile never leaving my face once.
“who planned this?” i ask laurel, who was carefully pulling out the birthday cake from the fridge.
“it was all belly and connie’s idea” she smiles, “now go sit!”
i take my seat next to jeremiah and steven before laurel brings the cake with seventeen candles on it in front of me. they all sing happy birthday to me and i close my eyes to make a wish.
every year since i was five years old, my birthday wish has been the same. not even just for my birthday, anytime i saw a shooting star, or tossed a penny in a fountain, or honestly any other occasion that required making a wish — it has always been the same.
it was wishing for jeremiah to notice me in the same way that i see him. it’s all i’ve ever wanted, as stupid as it can get.
i blow out all the candles and susannah cuts up the cake into slices before serving it to everyone. belly reminds me of all the birthday presents that they had gotten me, and to open it later.
after cake, susannah and laurel agree to leave the home to go to a cocktail bar so that the kids can have the house to themselves for a few hours. more teenagers from cousins start showing up, all of them wishing me a happy birthday as they come in.
drinks are being served, music is playing loudly off the multiple speakers scatter around the home, beer pong matches are being played by the pool, people dancing.
jeremiah stays next to me for the whole night, we chat with a few of our friends while sipping our seltzers.
“do you wanna go upstairs for a bit?” jeremiah says to me in a hushed tone, “y’know, to get away from this?”
i nod, “yeah, for sure.”
he smiles, taking my hand into his own and guiding me through the crowd and up the stairs. we walk to his bedroom, he closes the door behind me and locks it. jeremiah places his drink on his dresser and offers to put mine next to it, i agree and soon we’re both seated on his bed.
we make small talk, him asking about my birthday so far as he rummages around in his desk drawer. he sits back down beside me, facing me. he places a small velvet box into my hands,
“open it, my favourite birthday girl.” he smirks, looking into my eyes. his hand was on my thigh and i can feel myself blushing.
i think i can get lost in his ocean eyes, they’re so beautiful and full of life. i smile and carefully open it, inside was a gorgeous golden ring with a large (what im assuming was a fake) diamond on it.
“j…” i gasp, lifting the ring out of its box and admiring it, “this must have costed a fortune.”
he shrugs, “anything for you, look on the band.”
i bring the ring closer to my eyes and see that there’s an engraving on the inside of the band.
in love with my best friend <3
my jaw drops, “jeremiah?”
i look up at him, our eyes interlocking. he slowly nods, “i love you, y/n — i’ve always have, i thought it was a childhood crush and i don’t think i really realized until last summer that i truly do love you.”
“can i?” he asks, taking the ring from my hand. i nod and he carefully slips it onto my finger before being it to his lips and kissing it.
i pull him into a kiss, my hands rested on his cheeks and his on my waist. he kissed back almost immediately. my hands move down to his built chest and gently push him down onto his back, our lips never leaving each others. i adjust my legs so im straddled on him,
“i’ve always loved you too.” i whisper against his lips, he smiles into the kiss and kisses me harder.
his fingers fiddle with the edge of my dress, hands sliding up and down the back of my thighs before squeezing my ass slowly, “god, i couldn’t take my eyes off of you in this dress. it makes your body look so fucking good.” jeremiah groans.
i lower my crotch onto the evident tent in his pants, he gasps at the contact while slowly grind my hips on his.
“fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants.” he moans into my ear as i flip my hair onto one side. i bring my face to his jawline, kissing it and licking the soft skin. his hands tighten around my ass and i moan at the contact.
his hand slips under my dress and to the lace material of my thong, his finger slide underneath the band of it. he lifts it before letting it go, the snap of my underwear against my skin making me moan louder.
“sit on my face,” he tells me in a low voice, i feel myself getting even more wet and excited at the tone of it, “let me give you another birthday gift.”
he lifts me by the waist and moves me so my core is hovering above his mouth. i grab onto his head board while jeremiah slowly moves the lace material to the side and lowers me onto his face.
i gasp loudly when his tongue licks a long stride between my folds. he moans into me, “fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby.” he mumbles against me, the vibrations causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.
jeremiah dips his tongue into me, licking up all the juices and tracing figure eights against me. i squeeze the headboard tighter, becoming a moaning mess quickly. his tongue is magic. he fucks me with his mouth, my thighs shaking around his head,
“shit, jere.” i cry out, feeling my high coming closer. his hands squeeze my ass yet again before landing a smack on my left ass cheek. i moan loudly in response, my body flowing with immense pleasure, “fuck, i’m gonna come!”
he never slows his tongue as i feel my orgasm come crashing down on me. waves of pure pleasure crashing down. jeremiah licks up every last drop as i slowly come down from the high. i move myself down from his face and back down towards his groin. i lean down to kiss his passionately, tasting myself on his lips,
“holy shit, i can eat you out all day long.” he says to me as his hands fumble with his pants. he kicks off his pants and boxers. his erection slaps his lower abdomen and i drool at the sight of it. it’s huge, red tip begging for attention and veins pulsating on the sides of it.
i move to give him a blowjob but his grip on my waist prevents me from moving, “it’s your birthday.” jeremiah tells me, “you can give me head another time.” he winks
my hips position themselves above his thick and veiny cock and i lower myself onto it. he fills me up perfectly and we both moan loudly at the same time. every inch of him inside on me as i bottom out.
i slowly start rocking my hips against him, both of us becoming a panting mess. his hands never leave my hips, lifting me and slamming me back down onto his dick.
“you feel so good, baby” he praises, “you tight pussy feels amazing around me, fuck”
i continue riding him, my hands tangled up in his hair, pulling it which makes him moan.
“i- i think your cock was made for me.” i whisper in his ear before kissing him harshly.
he smirks, “oh yeah?”
and i nodded feverishly before he flips us around so im on my back and his on top of me, “sorry baby, i want to be in control now”
he pulls out almost entirely before slamming himself back in, the new position making him hit me even deeper than he was before. he thrusts harder and deeper, my back arches and i grab onto the sheets beside me, “fuck i’m close” i cry
“me too, hold on.” he continues fucking me, littering kissing on my face and neck. i can feel my inner muscles squeezing around him which makes jeremiah groan, “i’m fucking gonna come.”
“let it go.” he encourages me, his thumb going down to start abusing the bundle of nerves. almost immediately, i feel myself orgasm. my legs tightening around his waist and i feel him finish inside of me. he releases a series of curse words as he fucks us both through our orgasms.
a few moments after he pulls out and rolls next to me. we’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch our breaths, “holy shit” i pant out, looking over at him.
he grins, “that was amazing.”
“beyond amazing.” i repeat and he laughs,
“fuck, i should’ve asked you this before.” he says, reaching over to cup my face, “will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”
i blush, “yes, a hundred times yes!”
—
taglist! @randomaccountworld123 @bxbyyyjocelyn @20nugs @jeremiahxaesthetic
#jeremiah fisher fanfic#jeremiah fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher x reader#tsitp imagine#jeremiah fisher x y/n#tsitp x reader#jeremiah fisher angst#jeremiah fanfic#jeremiah x reader#jeremiah fisher fanfiction#jeremiah fisher fluff#jeremiah fisher smut#tsitp smut#the summer i turned pretty x reader#the summer i turned pretty imagine#the summer i turned pretty smut#the summer i turned pretty fanfic
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Exit Stage Right | R.L
You and your daughter miss Remus while he's performing for a stadium of fans, so much that you have to see him before the concert is over — dad!rockstar!remus x mom!reader fluff
warnings: a little angsty if you squint rlly hard, but nothing else
words: 2.4k
a/n: I promised rockstar!remus a while ago, but I've been to 2 concerts in the last 2 weeks, which just so happens to be finals season, so I've been simultaneously busy as hell and itching to write this. I hope you like how it turned out!
Your daughter Olive was no stranger to loud noises.
Remus had a room to practise drumming in your house, it’s normal to encounter a chaotic mess of fans and paparazzi when you left the house as a family, and she just about had the loudest uncles in the world. Though you tried to limit the amount of noise she took in, Olive’s little ears had definitely adapted to her hectic little life.
But all that noise in her daily life was no match for a rock concert in a sold-out stadium. Those decibel levels would for sure be far too high for her little ears to handle.
It wasn’t as easy of a decision on what you should do with her tonight, though. You were getting cabin fever with all the identical hotel rooms you’ve been living in while The Marauders were on their tour, and you suspected Olive was in the same boat.
So, you decided to go back to the old days when the band first started going on long tours, when you would stay in the dressing room for the length of the performance. You and Remus figured it would be soundproof enough backstage, but you still insisted on pulling out the baby headphones you had bought just in case before she was even born. You were only planning on using them if it got especially loud backstage, yet you tried them on anyway.
They were massive on her, but they kept her safe and happy. Plus, she was pretty damn adorable with them on—not that she wasn’t all the time, but definitely cuter than normal with those giant headphones.
Waiting for the show to start, Remus bounced Olive on his lap while you watched the rest of the guys run through their current individual pre-show rituals.
It had been quite a while since you’ve been backstage with the band right before a show, and you honestly forgot how entertaining it was.
James was trying to solve the same Rubik’s cube he’s been working on for years to warm up his fingers, Peter was doing the daily crossword in the local newspaper, and Sirius was trying to multitask by doing his vocal warmups and his makeup at the same time.
It was really a terrible combination of tasks, as Sirius kept on messing up his eyeliner and then trying to suppress his favourite swear words for your daughter’s sake.
You wanted to tell him off, but it was really too fun to watch for you to intervene.
A minute or so after Sirius finally finished his look, the boys’ manager knocked on the dressing room door and reminded them that they have to go on stage soon.
Remus thanked him, and the guys all started getting ready to go. He kept Olive in his arms for as long as he could, until it was just the three of you in the room after everyone was already headed to the stage.
When he finally had to let her go, Remus made sure he gave you both a proper goodbye.
“I’ll be back soon. Just over 2 hours, then we can all go home.” He kissed you softly, but deeply. He always does this as a way of saying goodbye, kissing you like he might never do it again, but he doesn’t want you to think about it.
When his lips left yours and he slouched down to blow a raspberry on Olive’s tummy, you sighed quietly. “A hotel, not home.”
He looked at you sympathetically as he collected his drumsticks from the table beside you and stored them in his back pocket for the time being.
“Isn’t home anywhere where we’re all together?” He said, trying to lift your spirits. “But we’ll be home home soon enough. And I won’t be on tour again for a while, and we can be all together as much as we want.”
That did make you feel better. Even though you loved that Remus was living his dream with his best friends and giving you and Olive a great life, it did get stressful from time to time.
Privacy violations by paparazzi and media outlets, insecurity that sometimes got the best of you on both sides of the relationship, and of course, The Marauders going on world tours that were fun, but still somewhat torture. They made it so you had to choose between leaving home for months, or being away from Remus—not that there was any difference between those two.
You didn’t want to get emotional right when Remus had to go perform, so you smiled and reminded him that it was time for you to part ways for the evening.
“They’re waiting for you out there.”
A grin graced your husband’s face. “They can wait a little longer.”
“They paid to see you.” You reminded him.
“And I'll personally refund all of them if I don't go out.”
“Then we'll be out of money, and we'll both have to get new jobs and we'll never have any time with just the three of us.”
Remus pretended to think over your point for a second. “You’re right. I guess I have to go out and perform, then.”
“Put on a good show, honey. We'll see you soon.”
While saying goodbye to him, you raised Olive’s arm so you could wave at Remus for her as he walked out of the dressing room. Her face was already forming a pout when she watched her dad leave to go do his job, but you wouldn’t let that morph into anything more.
You turned her around so you could both look at each other, then you pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.
“None of that, sweetheart. We’ll see him again in no time.”
Laying her down beside you on the couch, you reach down into the baby bag you never go anywhere without and pick out some of her favourite toys from their specific pocket; hopefully those will keep her distracted and happy.
◆◇◆◇◆
The toys didn’t work as well as you thought they would. They kept Olive busy for about an hour, but she seemed to snap out of her happy baby daze out of nowhere.
She started crying and nothing was working to calm her down. She wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need to be changed, and nothing you had brought for this very reason was working.
You knew the only thing that could quell her upset was outside and on the stage, playing drums for a stadium of fans. But even though she and Remus both wished they could spend all hours of the day together, you just didn’t know how that could work.
And then you remembered the headphones.
The sound backstage hadn’t been that loud at all while The Marauders were playing, so you honestly hadn’t thought about them since you and Remus packed them before you left the hotel.
But this could work. You could use them to help both you and Olive right now. So that’s what you did.
You dug through your bag and pulled the noise-cancelling headphones from the bottom of the bag, where they had sat untouched for the longest time. After picking them up with a tiny ‘aha’, you smiled at your daughter and told her that she would soon be seeing her dad.
She had calmed down somewhat due to the mere mention of Remus, but she was still wailing in your arms. You bounced her lightly while you walked down the halls of the stadium.
“It’s okay, honey.” You cooed at Olive, despite the fact that she couldn’t hear a thing. “You’re gonna tire yourself out and fall asleep before you even get to see Daddy. We don’t want that, do we?”
Although, maybe her crying herself to sleep wouldn’t be so bad.
It still wasn’t an option in your mind. Your daughter wanted to see her dad, so over to Remus you’ll go.
Once you got to the stage door, a burly security guard gave you a questioning look. You supposed he wasn’t used to a woman and a baby wanting to go into the wings during a rock concert. But he was just there to do his job, not judge, so he let you through when you showed him your ID.
You kept checking Olive’s face to see her expressions and gauge if everything was too loud for her. Her look didn’t deviate from the bothered expression her face took on when you started walking with her, so you assumed the headphones were cancelling out the noise, just as they were made for.
Nobody who was working backstage seemed to mind you being there, so you found an extra stool in a dark corner and pulled it so you could sit and watch the band.
Based just on how Olive was moving in your arms, you knew she had spotted her dad behind the cymbals he was smashing across the stage. Pointing towards Remus, you whispered to her again even though she couldn’t hear you. “Look! Who’s that? Who’s over there?”
She seemed to be cheered up enough just from seeing Remus, so your hypothesis was proven correct. Things were shaping up to be a good night.
You swayed and headbanged—as lightly as possible—since just because Olive couldn’t enjoy the loud music doesn’t mean you had to ignore it too.
The current song ended, and James was talking to the crowd while Sirius drank some much-needed water after all that singing. While taking a swig, the two familiar faces in the wings of the stage caught his eye, and he just had to share what he was seeing with the drummer.
He practically skipped over to Remus, who was also catching his breath from performing and pointed you out. Your husband’s eyes scanned the area until he found you, and his face immediately broke out into a smile—and so did your daughter’s.
Back in the dressing room, you were hesitant if you should leave at all or if you should just wait out Olive’s tantrum, but the matching looks on your husband and daughter’s faces right now was proof that you made the right decision.
Olive made grabby hands towards her dad across the stage, and Remus waved right back and blew a kiss in your direction. You weren’t quite sure if it was aimed at you or your little girl, but it made you blush either way.
He pointed to the setlist taped to the ground beside him and hid his hand behind his bass drum so the audience wouldn’t see his gesture; he held up three fingers to let you know there would be three more songs until he could get up and give you two his full attention. You knew they would most definitely be doing an encore after they finished, but at least they could all have a small break after the main show.
You nodded to show him you understood, but his attention was already grabbed back by James giving him the sign that it was time to get back into the music. Not even taking more than a second to prepare, Remus was back in the groove and started playing the next song on the list, effortlessly and perfectly.
The last few songs of the main set were some of your favourites from the band’s discography, but you had to admit that you couldn’t enjoy them as much as you usually would.
It was mainly because you were somewhat scared of an impending mood swing out of your daughter now that her father’s attention had left her, but also because these three songs were standing in between you and your husband like a brick wall right now. You just had to remind yourself that once they hit that last note and said their goodbyes to the crowd, that wall would be temporarily smashed once more.
But now, they were at the end of the concert. The crowd was cheering like they just had the best night of their lives—you don’t doubt that they did—and Remus was throwing his sticks into the sea of hands desperate for a morsel of The Marauders.
His rockstar persona was dropped the second those drumsticks left his hands, and he was rushing to the wings to be with you and Olive, a wide smile strung across his cheeks.
He pulled you two out into the hall so the crowd’s noise could be in the background. He knew they would be cheering for an encore in a minute; as much as he loved that sound, he would rather hear you.
“She was getting pretty fussy and I knew you were the only thing that would calm her down.” You explained to Remus before he could even ask.
You were afraid he would be upset with you bringing her outside of the dressing room, but he didn’t seem fazed at all. He gently took Olive from your arms and cooed over her.
“You missed me so much you dragged your mum out here so you could see me, huh?” Remus asked her. “You know I missed you too, princess. Both of you.”
“Yeah? Maybe you should get the guys to shorten the setlist so you aren’t away from us for too long, then.”
He didn’t respond, but you know that he had brought up the idea of shorter tours to the others now that he and James were both fathers.
You watched lovingly as Remus kept moving Olive’s hand away from the glitter on his face that she was so desirous to touch. You wished you all could stay in this moment forever, but the audience’s chants for an encore were getting louder and louder and you knew the scene in front of you couldn’t last much longer.
Right on schedule, James strutted up and tapped Remus on the shoulder with a brand new pair of drumsticks.
“We’ve gotta go back out there, mate. Time to part ways with your girls once again.”
Remus wouldn’t put up a fight. He handed Olive back to you and blew one more kiss at you two as a goodbye.
The doors opened and a cacophony of fan cheers hit your ears. It was a lot, but it just reminded you that all those people were waiting for your husband, so you could wait a few more minutes.
Just two final songs, then you could all go home.
#remus lupin#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin imagine#dad!remus lupin#dad!remus lupin x mom!reader#dad!rockstar!remus#dad!rockstar!remus lupin#rockstar!remus#rockstar!remus lupin#rockstar au#rockstar!marauders#dad!marauders#marauders au#marauders era#marauders fluff#marauders fanfiction
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High By The Beach
sub!chris x fem!reader
one shot: where you get high by the beach with your bff chris but things get heated when you two are left alone ;)
warnings: smut, riding, fem receiving, drug use obv
——————————.ᘒ｡ﾟ𓇼･༄･—————————
Your guys' last day in Hawaii was coming to an end, the sun disappearing behind the slow waves of the clearest ocean you had ever seen. You, Chris, Matt, Nick and Madi had spent the day doing all sorts of fun activities- swimming with dolphins, taking a tour on a helicopter, walking all over the island visiting stores and restaurants. Needless to say, you were all exhausted from the days itinerary.
That's why you were all resting at the beach, sitting in a circle by the fire, recounting the days events while passing a joint around.
"And then Nick slapped the dolphin!" Matt was saying, all of you dying of laughter. Nick who was taking a drag of the joint choked on the smoke, making everyone laugh harder.
"I apologized to Mr. Squeaky!" Nick defended between coughs and laughter, "He sneaked up behind me, I didn't mean to do it!"
Chris, who was laying his head on your lap, took the joint from Nick's hand, "If I was Mr. Squeaky, I would have bit you" he joked, earning a dramatic scoff from Nick.
You giggled, Chris grinning up at you, his eyelids low. You watch him as he wraps his pink lips around the roll of weed, his cheekbones prominent as he inhales the smoke, his hair tickling your thighs, and his jawline sharp as he blows the smoke up at you.
“Hey!” you protest, falling back into the sand. “Stop that you goof!”
His head rolls over onto your exposed tummy and he looks at you with a mischievous smile, discarding the finished joint. He puffs his cheeks and before you realize what he’s going to do, he leans forward and blows a raspberry on your tummy making you laugh uncontrollably.
“Chris! Chris!” you say between gasps for air, he’s now tickling your sides while blowing raspberries. “Stop it” your hands are on his hair but you’re too weak to push him off.
He pulls away laughing with his tongue sticking out “You’re tummy was right there, I had to!” You roll your eyes. You’re about to protest when he stuffs a marshmallow in your mouth. Your protests are muffled by the marshmallow and he breaks into a louder fit of laughter.
You can’t get annoyed at his actions. His laughter is super contagious and with the weed in your system you can’t help but join him.
Your laugh is cut off by Madi yelling “I’m awake!” out of nowhere. You all watch her as she slowly falls onto Matt’s shoulder and she shoots up again “I’m awake I swear!” she mumbles, her eyes closing.
“Alright!” Nick exclaims, “time for bed!”. Matt agrees and carries Madi to the hotel.
“Whaaat?” Chris whines, sitting up. “I was about to light up my other joint!”
“You haven’t had enough?” Nick asks.
“No” Chris deadpans. “Have you y/n? Cmon back me up” he pleads.
“I could have another few more hits” you shrug.
“Alright you stoners,” Nick replies. “Have fun!”
“Niiiight Nicky” you both wave goodbye.
The fire is dying out and the breeze is getting cooler, as Chris searches his shorts pockets for the other joint. “Whoops.”
“What?” you ask.
“I…may have… already smoked the other joint earlier”
“Chris!”
“Sorry y/n!” he falls back into the sand next to you, defeated. “I forgot I did that”
You both sigh, looking up at the starry night, the fire died out completely.
You turn to look at him, his side profile stunning. You were always taken aback by your best friend’s beauty, no matter how many years of friendship you had under your belt. His wavy hair fell over his face perfectly, like a prince. His nose sculpted like a greek statue, and his cheekbones like a model’s. His dark blue eyes as blue as the ocean a few feet away from you.
Those eyes were looking back at you now. “Hey” his voice quiet.
“Hey” you smiled.
A silence settled between you. The silence usually comfortable, but right now, for some reason, you were getting nervous with his eyes on you. You felt your cheeks get hot and you couldn’t hold eye contact with him.
“Am I making you blush y/n?”
“What? No!” you quipped. It wasn’t unusual for Chris to jokingly flirt but something about how he looked tonight and the heat of his body…it was making you panic.
“You sure?” he has a smirk on his face, unaware of his effect on you.
“Yeah- yes I’m sure. I’m just getting chilly. The sun set already, the fire is out and the breeze is cool, I’m in this swim suit.” you ramble. “Can we get in the tent or something?”
“Sure” he helps you up and tucks you under the blankets, cuddling up against you.
This was okay. You were cool about this. You and Chris cuddled all the time. Best friends cuddle. Best friends share the same tent and cuddle under the same blankets. Right? Yeah! Of course. This was normal and cool.
His arm brushed your breasts as he lifted it to wrap it behind your neck. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt something flutter down there. Alright, now you were blushing hard. Like this your breasts pressed against his side and you you felt your nipples get hard. You knew he could feel them through the thin fabric of your bikini top.
“You alright?” he asked, his voice huskier than before. God, what was happening to you? Now you were noticing a change in his voice? It must be the weed in your system. Of course! The weed is the one making you think like this.
“Mhm” you hummed, your pitch high. It was obvious you were not alright. He must feel your heart beating out of your chest and your legs rubbing against each other.
“You sure?” he asks again.
“Yes Chris I’m alr-“ you stop mid sentence when your leg slides up his body and it hits something hard, causing a low moan to escape Chris.
You both freeze in place, both of you shocked at what just happened. You had just felt Chris’ erection on your leg and clearly heard him moan.
Chris is the first to move, sitting up and hiding his face in his hands. You sit up next to him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry y/n, I don’t know what happened” his voice muffled against his hands.
“It’s okay Chris, don’t worry about it”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, i’m sorry”
“I’m not uncomfortable Chris” you reassure him. “I’m actually…feeling…the same.”
Your feel him tense under your hand. You can’t believe you just admitted that. You just admitted to your best friend that you’re as turned on by him as he is by you.
He slowly lifts his face from his hands, turning to look at you. You see a hunger in his eyes that you’ve never seen before as he scans your face, his gaze lingering on your bitten lips. “R-really?”
You nod slowly, shuffling closer to him. Your body was acting on its own, as if by a magnetic pull. You wanted nothing more than to be pressed up against him again. You wanted to be the cause of his moans again. Now that you’ve had a taste, you were starving for more.
You leaned forward and kissed your best friends lips. They were softer than you thought and you tasted marshmallow. His lashes tickeled your cheeks as you deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding on your bottom lip. You pulled him closer, your fingers in his hair. You parted your lips, letting him explore your mouth with his tongue. He hear him moan for the second time tonight and the sound goes directly to your pussy, making it throb with yearning.
You guided his body down to lay on his back, his eyes locked on yours. You could both see in each other’s eyes that you both thought this was crazy, you had been best friends for years now, nothing more. But you could also see the fiery desire in your expressions and that overpowered any other reasoning.
You lifted one leg over his body and he quickly guided your hips down to his groin with his hands. You could feel every inch of his growing erection against your wet heat, making you both moan in unison. He felt big which didn’t surprise you, but it did make you instinctively grind against it.
“Fuck y/n” Chris groaned underneath you, his head tilting back in pleasure. Your tummy did a flip, desire growing hot inside of you. It was intoxicating to be the reason he’s making those filthy noises.
He gripped your hips tighter, his biceps contracting, grinding your hips against him. “More more more” he pleaded. You had never seen this side of Chris, so needy and whiny. Every sound escaping his mouth was heavenly.
His cock was rock hard now and your bikini bottoms were soaked. “Enough grinding” your voice breathy but your tone stern. His eyes wide and expectant. “I’m dying to ride this cock”
“Mmm yes please” Chris whimpered, his hip bucking up as you slid his shorts down. “God y/n, youre hypnotizing” he mumbled, lifting himself on his elbows to admire you. Your ass was up in the air, back arched, and your teeth biting down on your lip to keep from drooling.
His boxers were wet at the spot where the tip of his cock was leaking precum. You leaned your head down toward it, licking through the fabric. Chris inhaled through his teeth, his eyes rolling back.
You reached over to grab his hand and place it in your hair, “pull it”
He quickly obeyed, wrapping your hair in his long fingers and pulling. You moaned against his clothed cock, the vibrations making his dick twitch. “Holy shit” he groaned out.
You wrapped your lips around his hard cock, tasting his precum through his boxers. He was watching you in awe. You took in every expression he made, looking up through your eyelashes.
“y/n?” he moaned as you started palming him.
“Mhm?”
“I…..I-I've dreamt of tasting your pussy for the longest time y/n, can I please? I promise I'll make it good, please let me taste you on my tongue” he begs.
You're hypnotized by his string of pleas. You quietly crawl up to straddle his face. He takes your ass in both of his big hands, pulling you down quickly onto his mouth.
Your back arches in pleasure as his hot tongue licks a fat stripe up your folds. Your head falls back, your eyes in the back of your head. “Fuck yeah Chris,” you moan, riding his face.
He’s making all sorts of porn-like noises into your wet pussy. “Just like that Chris, fuck yeah, right there”
He is assaulting your hole with quick jabs of his tongue. It reaches impossibly deep inside you. He folds it in a way that scratches that sensitive bundle of nerves, making your legs shake.
You feel pleasure pool in your belly and you lift off him. He whines at the loss of contact.
“Need your cock now” you shuffle down to straddle his lap and align his memeber with your pulsating hole.
You sink down on his cock, balls deep. His jaw hangs open, his body washed in so much pleasure that the only noise he’s able to form is a small squeak. “You like my tight pussy taking in your entire cock like this, hmm baby?
He nods, another small squeak, his jaw slack, his eyes in the back of his head.
You start bouncing on his cock, sliding all the way to the tip and slamming back down to the base. His girth is spreading you wide open and his length is hitting you just right. “Your dick’s so big, making me feel so good baby,”
“Mhm,” his grip on your thighs tightens.
“Am I making you feel good baby?"
He nods fast, his hair sticking to his forehead.
“Tell me how good”
He moans louder, biting the sheets at his side.
“Tell me how good Chris”
“So fucking good y/n/n, you're fucking me so good”
Your hips stutter at the mention of your nickname. He usually ever only called you that when he was being serious with you. In this context, it only motivated you to give it to him harder and rougher.
“Yeah baby? You like my pussy slapping down on your balls like this?”
“Yes yes yes, you're riding me so well y/n/n" he said between gasps for air, "your pussy feels heavenly y/n/n- ah just like that mhmm”
You take his hands placing them above his head as you arch your back so your clit is rubbing against his groin. His attention is now completely on the feeling of your pussy grinding down on his cock. He’s moaning and whining incoherent praises, his eyes shut closed.
You wrap your free hand around his jaw making his eyes widen, “be a good boy and fuck up into me” you pant into his open mouth.
His breath hitches and a beat later he’s slamming his dick up into your pussy, making wet sounds reverberate inside the tent. You are both panting hot air into each other's mouths. Chris starts whimpering when you swivel your hips in small circles. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, “want it to last”
He slows his movements, pumping slow and deep into you as you grind down into him. “Yes y/n/n, whatever you want”
“You're so good to me baby, doing everything I say”, your legs start to quiver and your elbows fall on either side of his head. This pace is excruciatingly pleasurable and you feel your cunt clench around his full member.
“Make me cum sweet boy” you whisper shakily in his ear.
He wasted no time pumping fast into you, his hands flying down to your waste, slamming your hips down into every thrust up of his hips. Your hands grip onto his hair as your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm ripping through you in a string of loud moans.
He spurts hot cum into your pussy with a couple last hard thrusts, coating your walls and groaning deeply in your ear. The mix of your juices with his cum drip out of you coating his balls and your spent body drapes over him.
He stays inside you as you both come down from your highs.
“Loved every fucking second of that Chris” you whisper, lifting yourself to look him in the eyes.
“Yeah?” he asks softly, a sweet smile on his face.
“Yeah” you replied, elated.
“Me too y/n/n” he kisses your forehead and you smile, resting against his chest. You both drift off to sleep at a beach in Hawaii.
a/n: my first chris smut 😵💫 i’m feeling things !!!! hope u enjoyed<3
— LEV ᖭི༏ᖫྀ
#Spotify#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fandom#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#y/n#y/n fanfic#y/n smut#smut#lana del rey#lana del ray aka lizzy grant#lana del slay#lana del ray aesthetic#lana is god
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You see him at a distance. Sitting in a comfy chair by the window, watching the sunset in silence.
It will do him good to see you, that's what Izuku had said. But he forgot to mention how it was going to do you no good.
Bakugou Katsuki looks so in peace right at this moment, you're not sure you want to get closer. You're not sure you want to disrupt that peacefulness. It's so rare to see him so relax, so quiet, you don't want to cause him any trouble. Even if it breaks your heart.
He's been asking for you... sometimes, that's what Izuku had said. He sometimes remembers you. But that sometimes makes you wish he wouldn't at all.
You take one, two, three steps closer, and he turns his head because he heard you, his Hero reflexes as sharp as ever. His eyes, ruby eyes that had always held an intensity that made your knees weak for him, look at you up and down. His eyebrows frown and ah, this is not a good day.
"Who the fuck are you and who let you in?" He barks, and your heart breaks.
You look down at your hands, you don't really want him to see how much his words hurt you. You don't want him to see how much you need him back. You don't want him to see how desperate you're for him to remember you.
"Ah, I'm sorry, I got the wrong room," your voice trembles, you're sure he notices, but you don't look back up at him as you turn over your heels and walk back to the door. You don't run, but fuck, you want to get out of there as fast as you can.
Your hand grabs the doorknob as he suddenly gasps, "Y/N?"
You freeze as everything around you. He said your name. Bakugou Katsuki, the love of your life, after two years, says your name once again. You're afraid to turn around. Afraid the it's just your fucking mind playing with you and your feelings. Afraid that when you look at him, there's only going to be a stare that shows how the love of your life doesn't even know who the fuck you are. Still, you turn around. Because, hell, your heart can't be broken anymore when it's barely there, when it only functions because you're alive but you don't live. You can't live without him. You're just surviving.
"Y/N..." He gasps once again and this time you find the courage to look at him.
He's standing, hands closed in fists but you can clearly see hes trying to hold back their trembling, his eyes are filled with unshed tears that he's holding back. And he looks broken. Just like you.
Your tears are rolling down your cheeks as you look at him. There's recognition in his eyes. He knows who you are, and that hurts even more than when he doesn't.
You close your eyes and can't avoid the sob that leaves your mouth when a pair of familiar arms surround you. His smell is the same, sweet like apples and vanilla, but strong like sandalwood and sparks. All him.
"Shh, it's okay... I'm here," he cries, kissing your head as your hands grab his hospital shirt.
"For now," you cry and he holds you tighter.
Because he knows and you know that it won't last long. It never lasts long. He's here for a minute...and then he's gone for days.
"FUCK," he swears crying, before backing away enough to just hold your face in his hands, so you look at him in the eyes. "I'm not fucking giving up, I'm fucking fighting it... I will fight it til I fucking win, you hear me?"
His forehead presses against yours, tears flowing like an unstoppable cascade. You sometimes wonder if cascades aren't just that, nature crying, sobbing a torrent of desperate pleas.
Because fuck you feel like one. An immense torrent of pleas to whatever exists up there to give you back your husband.
"I know you are..." You smile at him, your hands now traveling up towards his face and caressing his cheeks as sweetly as you're able, making him close his eyes and enjoy your touch, "And I'm always going to be here waiting for you."
And that's a promise.
Doesn't matter how long it takes, you'll wait for him. You'll wait until the day he finally heals and comes back to you.
#just a lil something i came up with#memory loss!au#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction#mha bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou x reader#mha angst#mha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugou angst#bnha angst#bnha bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugou angst#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki angst
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love is in the air.
. . . and maybe that's why mikage reo can view the world with such clouded, pink-hued vision, and why nagi seishiro cannot breathe at all.
series. nagi + reader + reo. gn! reader. reader likes guys. bestfriend! nagi. valentines/white day. highschool setting. swearing. humor. fluff & angst.
prev ┊ next ┊ 01 … 02 … 03
⊹ 02 : radiant [wc: 4.6k]
TWO YEARS AGO
“ah…found you, finally.”
nagi huffs out, slightly out of breath as he leans against the railing of the staircase on the fourth floor. what a damn hassle, making him expend such excessive effort like this—it all could've been easily prevented if you just replied to his text asking you about his whereabouts. he figures your phone must've died, because there's no way you wouldn't have noticed his 7 texts of wya? in a row.
“been tryin’ to look everywhere f’you. next time, can you just tell…” he trails off once he steps closer and realizes you're not alone.
“seriously? him again?” your boyfriend len scowls, directing his caustic gaze at the topic of interest, who has conveniently decided to show up at the right moment.
except nothing about this is right at all.
there's no good explanation as to why you feel your heart plummet. your best friend, your only trusted companion whose mere presence incites a familiar sense of comfort and an effortless, breezy smile from you; when you're with him, you don’t have to think much about the reasoning behind why he has that sort of ability, or why it feels like you're right at home whenever you're with him.
you just somehow know. and that's how it has always been.
being with nagi is supposed to be easy, calming, and freeing, even—so why is there a heavy pressure weighing down on you all of a sudden? despite everything, why has he suddenly become the last person you want to see right now?
“seishiro?” apprehensively, you ask, “what are you doing here?”
“i just came to get you. like usual.” while there's nothing wrong with what nagi says, you still inadvertently wince, hesitating to meet either male's eyes as an unpleasant feeling brews in your gut.
“yeah, but i told you i was gonna be with my boyfriend…”
here’s the thing: it's not like nagi doesn't know you have one.
when you first told him about it, he thought it was a joke (a hilarious one, at that). he thought it might've been one of your delusions again, and in typical nagi seishiro fashion he only spared you a fleeting glance with heavy-lidded eyes and a congratulations, i guess in the most listless tone. and when you told him to go on ahead because you wouldn't walk home with him today, he failed to take it seriously once more, thinking it was one of your weird ‘loyalty pranks’ to see if he would actually go and leave you behind.
but when he didn't feel the usual tug on his shoulder, or your arm resting against the top of his dozing head to wake him up at the end of the class, he thought there was something slightly off. when he looked around and saw no trace of you around the classroom or even around the front of the school, he thought there was something really wrong.
nagi’s starting to find this stupid joke less and less funny.
could all of the previous days (or has it already been weeks?) you’ve been talking about this mysterious nobody be true? he should’ve paid more attention. so, yes—it's not like he doesn't know you have one, he just had a rather hard time believing it (though he doesn't know it's due to the fact that you are you, or because maybe he's just in denial about it).
what annoying, annoying jest. when did this so-called “relationship” even have the time to blossom?
“oh…did you?” the white-haired male’s voice doesn't come out as smooth as he’d like. he scratches his neck, feeling it a bit clogged for whatever reason. he's glad he's not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, because even if his voice betrays him, he can at least keep his expression neutral. “well, i’m here now, and i don't wanna walk home alone. i kinda forgot the way back, so i need your help—”
“seishiro!” you hiss, your voice clipped and bordering on desperate; a warning, one that goes right over nagi’s head.
“you know what?” a peeved voice cuts in—len’s, whose patience has worn thin. he has had enough of nagi demanding your attention that was supposed to be reserved for him. if you can’t even keep your eyes solely on your boyfriend, then you might as well be a good-for-nothing cheat. “forget this. i don’t think we’d ever work out if this continues.”
“w-what? wait, huh?” as your face crumbles, nagi is unable to grasp why he feels a faint throb in his chest at the sight. “let's talk about thi—”
“right, let's talk about it, hm?” when you finally meet len’s eyes, you’re barely able to recognize your boyfriend at this point, his taunting sneer morphing his face into someone completely different. is this really the kind, alluring lover that you fell for? “be with me, or cut off this… this nagi kid?”
“what? where did this come from? you can't just suddenly make me choose—”
“and there's your answer.” he scoffs, slapping your hand away that's unconsciously reaching out to him before turning around to leave. in a few rigid strides, he's gone, and you're left staring blankly at the space where he just was.
it is nagi who breaks the silence after a few moments. “…guess this wasn't a good time, huh?” nagi sighs, gripping the strap of his backpack tighter as you remain frozen. “well, at least we can go home now.”
“nagi.”
confusion clouding all over his face, he slightly perks up at your somber tone, a hint of unease setting in his stomach. he doesn't like whatever this is that he's suddenly feeling. “why’re you calling me nagi?”
“i think you know why. leave me alone, nagi.”
for quite some time after, those words remain the last thing you've said to him.
nagi has always been somewhat aware of his inability to comprehend feelings, whether it be his own or of others, but this time is the first time he's ever bothered by his lack of aptitude; the first time he's ever felt this swirl of foreign emotions engulf him, of strange, unknown sensations rushing to him all at once. what started as a mere bud sprouting along the expanse of his lungs, grew double—no, triple in size within a matter of days, poking and squeezing the spongy organ until its function proved near useless.
the abundance of petals produced by these excrescences is nothing but a nuisance, blocking his airways and tainting his tongue with the bitter, awful taste of decay, which only seems to get worse with each passing week without a word from you. it's a pain, it's majorly vexing, it's—
“leave me alone, nagi.”
—it's suffocating.
PRESENT
nagi still refuses to join the soccer team.
in the hallways, reo somehow manages to always find you and your companion throughout the day, greeting the both of you with unmatched enthusiasm—the kind that someone really shouldn't have at seven o’clock in the morning. everytime that happens, reo is only met with the same, vacant stare, accompanied with a blunt no without much thought.
after all, he's not the only one who came to recruit the white-haired genius. the volleyball, basketball, and softball clubs (even the cheerleading team, for some reason?) have all tried, to which he instantly shut down.
“why would i participate in sports? even walking is tiring to me,” is his simple reasoning every single time, without fail.
at some point, reo tries to bribe him with a brand new gaming console as a “customary gift”. not that there's anything customary about that, but you suppose rich people live in a different world than you common folks do (when you found out that reo arrives to school in a goddamn limousine, you've lost all interest in being more than acquaintances with someone as absurd as that).
however, that is when reo finally manages to elicit a reaction from nagi, a slight sheen in his eyes that made you immediately panic, dragging him away before he gives in and telling him accepting anything from mikage? i think the fuck not! (“why not?” “because we don’t want to get in debt by someone like him!” “oh, we don’t?” “yes, dummy! next thing you know, we keep ‘borrowing’ money from him and eventually when we can't pay it back, he ships us off to some remote island and makes us his slaves for the rest of our lives because we couldn't afford our debt!” “you watch too much horror movies, i think.”)
however, as irritating as one’s persistence could be, deep down you hope nagi accepts reo’s invite. you've always known about his underutilized potential, and how he himself is the only thing that's holding him back.
truly, a waste that is.
“i know that rich boy’s been really annoying about it, but why don't you try it out? even just for a little bit?” you ask nagi, having stayed behind during lunch in your classroom instead of heading to the crowded school cafeteria.
“don't wanna,” he mutters against his arms, head buried against the desk.
“why not? our teacher’s been hounding you for not being in a club, right?”
“i’ll just join the book club or something. now go away,” he says, probably trying to catch up on much needed rest, despite already sleeping through your morning classes.
“you slacker. just try it out so mikage stops bothering me too.”
nagi suddenly lifts his head up. “he’s bothering you?”
leaning your elbow on the desk nagi’s lying down on, you press your cheek against your palm as you snicker at his sudden mood change. “mhm. won't you save me, your one and only best friend? the one you swore to protect until the world collapses? me, an innocent, pure ethereal being who's cruelly subjected to harassment and—”
he breathes out a long exhale. you brace yourself, racking your brain as you try to think of more ways to persuade him (without including the promise of reo’s “prize” or whatever suspicious deals you're sure the heir is involved with).
however, in nagi’s perspective, it's not because he needed any more convincing, but because he can't believe he's actually willingly to participate in something so bothersome for someone's sake. “…fine.”
“wait, actually?! for real?” with your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, nagi almost snorts at your ridiculousness. almost.
“you're the one who kept telling me to go for it, so why’re ya surprised?”
his sleepy voice gets drowned out by your excited chattering. “wow, nagi seishiro is actually interested in something else other than napping and gaming? no way! noooo way!”
“it's annoying, but yeah.” he grimaces, regret already sinking in—but since he's doing it for you, he supposes it's alright. just this once, he can make an exception. “…you're coming with me, right?”
a pause. “um… no? unless you want me to be the token benchwarmer?”
“ah, fair.”
“yeah, yeah. besides, i’m already in debate club, so me joining you is out of the question.”
“not even as our manager?”
“nope.”
nagi visibly sulks, lips forming into his signature pout. cute. it almost looks like he's at a loss of what to do without you—maybe it’s a result of you and him being stuck together at the hip since middle school, and how he's grown dependent on you due to his lazy nature, but you're sure he'll survive on his own.
…probably.
“i’ll come watch your games though,” you quickly add in case he backtracks on his word, reaching over the desk and tousling his hair, messing it up even more. he doesn't complain like how he usually would, merely blinking his wide gray eyes at you. “i mean, what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't support you?”
that seems enough for nagi. he straightens up, a hand running through his now disheveled white locks, peering at you with a newfound motivation. “better keep your eyes on me, ‘kay?”
you grin, nodding. “duh. goes without saying, loser.”
sometime after that, reo, nagi, and yourself have now fallen into some sort of routine: nagi now has practice on thursdays and fridays after school, but sometimes reo swings by unexpectedly during lunch on those days to discuss with nagi what their training plans would be after school (unable to wait until the end of the day, apparently). not that nagi actually listens, but he has come to a realization that it’d be too much work if he were to refuse him, so he just lets him do whatever he wants.
would it be foolish to think that reo would let up once he’s gotten what he wanted? if anything, his apparent interest grows even more, which only encourages the rumors that are recently circulating about you. girls still glare at you in jealousy, while guys sneak judgmental glances at you, but reo manages to clear up any misunderstandings using his natural charm and influence, so you're fine for the most part. how thoughtful. well, it's his fault in the first place anyway.
for some reason, you see him a lot more often than necessary.
…like right now, for instance.
when a flash of purple appears in your peripherals, you turn, met with the sight of reo’s handsome figure hovering by the doorway. the tall male is hanging rather stiffly in the middle of the entrance, as if unable to decide whether to come inside or not.
“mikage?” you decide to call him out. “what are you doing here?”
he flinches, akin to a deer in headlights. what's up with that reaction? is he not supposed to be here or…? “huh? well, i’m here for nagi, of course.”
“right.” you nod curtly. it's monday today; they don't even have practice until the next few days.
but even then, reo has picked the worst time to drop by, because nagi isn't even at school today. (surprise, surprise—he slept in. again.) just as you are about to bring that up, reo casually ambles over and pulls a seat back, sitting across you with a sheepish smile on his face.
by now, you've grown familiar with the scent of his cologne wafting in the air whenever he's nearby. it's a delicate yet expensive scent, fresh and woody, like musk with hints of apples and mint. a vast difference from nagi’s, whose smell is more down-to-earth, like fresh laundry and the breeze of early mornings.
other than the questioning glance you offer him, nothing happens for a few moments. reo opens his mouth as if to say something, but when nothing comes out, he reverts back to pursed lips and skittish glimpses. it's off-putting how he seems to struggle with striking up a conversation for once—you start to feel a bit awkward about the stretched silence, so you just shrug and continue eating from your bento. as long as he's not bothering you too much, you don't actually mind his company.
“want some?” noticing how you're the only one eating lunch, you absentmindedly bring up the chopsticks close to his mouth, urging him to take a bite out of your tamagoyaki.
that seems to finally snap reo out of his inner strife, his violet eyes widening as they flicker between you and the food, “y-you're feeding me…?”
ah, crap—you’re so used to feeding nagi that you didn't even think twice before bringing the neatly rolled omelette to his lips. before you can retract your hand though, reo quickly composes himself, enclosing his fingers on your forearm to prevent you from moving away. “okay, i guess,” he mutters shyly before taking a bite.
a slight relief fills you as you watch him accept your offer, though that quickly turns into nervousness. “well? how was it?” you ask, observing the purple-haired male chewing carefully with a finger on his chin.
“did you cook this?” reo returns with a question of his own, peering at you through his lashes.
“you didn’t answer my question…”
“hm. did you?”
“what, is my cooking not good enough for the great master mikage reo’s superior taste buds?” you roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance as your face warms at the fact that he's deliberately avoiding your questions. you half-expect him to spit out the food; now that you think about it, surely he wouldn't enjoy eating something so bland and second-rate—
“hmm, not sure. i might need another bite to fully understand the flavors.”
you blink dumbly at reo’s coyness. well, he doesn't seem to outright hate it, so that's better than you are initially expecting. when you push the bento closer to him, he only stares at you expectantly, as if waiting for something. you stare right back, muttering, “what is it?”
“uh…actually, i broke both of my hands. and my fingers too. all ten of them.” reo blurts out, simultaneously hiding his hands away from your view.
…what.
this is the second time you're at a loss for words because of reo. perplexed, you lean in, trying to take a peek behind his back. “your fingers seemed perfectly fine when you grabbed my arm.”
“well, a lot can happen in two seconds.”
“like…?”
“spontaneous functional impairment?”
i’ll show you a spontaneous functional impairment, you grumble under your breath. “i am not your maid.”
reo tilts his head to side, warmth radiating from the innocent smile plastered on his face. it's the same one he usually wears, the kind that makes one weak in the knees—one that you're fortunately immune to.
(at least you think so, anyway.)
“…if i paid you, would you be more inclined?”
“piss off, mikage.”
reo chuckles, airy and soft, and you find it disturbing how a mere sound can easily disarm your guard. that's just the kind of person he is, you guess, barely even having to try yet the influence he holds over anyone (regrettably including you, to a certain degree) is undeniable. you ponder why someone like him is even here in the first place; doesn't he have more important stuff to do?
“kidding, i'm kidding! it's delicious.”
but when he assures you and you watch as his eyes crinkle with amusement, you decide not to sweat the little details. he continues, “i mean it. i’d love to have more, if you're willing, of course.”
since hakuho high is a college prep school, your school’s soccer team is weak compared to the others, not to mention fairly new, established only recently by reo himself (thus making him captain, as if he couldn't be any more popular). it hasn't garnered much attention from its students—but since this is the first official match against another school, a pretty sizable crowd has filled the bleachers that friday afternoon, excitement and anticipation buzzing in the air.
on the way to the bleachers, you catch sight of your friend and his teammates warming up while the coach gathers them to hold his final group meeting prior to the game, most of them stretching their legs and some basking under the sunshine (and by some, you mean only nagi).
after the coach finishes saying his speech to the team, reo claps his hand against nagi’s back, making the latter wince. reo just hooks his arm around nagi’s shoulder, and you see his mouth moving and gesturing towards the direction of the bleachers when his purple eyes suddenly fall on you. sending reo a small wave, he waves back at you, albeit with more enthusiasm—which also made the girls surrounding you shriek. ah, right. you briefly think that you should start acting like you don’t know him in public, on the off chance that a crazed fan of his comes for your throat just for being involved with him.
nagi glances where reo’s line of sight is. you wave at him as well when your eyes meet, expecting him to just send one back in acknowledgment, but instead he starts jogging towards you. “you made it,” he breathes out once he's within earshot.
“i said i’d watch your game, right?” you playfully jab him on the arm, observing how his legs look way more toned than you’ve last seen. has he always been this fit? seems like all that training he begrudgingly went through has paid off. “lookin’ fresh in uniform, seishiro. sorry i couldn't make it to any practices though, i couldn't ditch my own club.”
nagi shrugs, feeling content since you still made it. he reaches into his pocket, fishing out his beloved device and handing it to you. “can you keep my phone with you? i forgot i had it in my pocket.”
after nagi gets back to his team, you end up sitting on the third row of the bleachers as you wait for the game to begin. you fiddle with the charm on his phone. he still has it attached (you make a mental note to ask him about it again later), and you notice how some of the colors of the black beads have faded. a cursory thought passes, where you wonder if it's due to age, or if he touched it too often that the oils from his fingertips have worn the surface off.
you're leaning more on the former hypothesis—you can’t imagine nagi getting sentimental over a handmade charm that’s mediocre at best. or anything at all, period.
a sudden bump on your shoulder causes you to break out of your thoughts. a deep voice hurriedly speaks out, “excuse m—”
“len?” out of all people, why is he sitting next to you?
you’ve barely seen your ex-boyfriend in the past three years. either he's good at hiding, or you're even less popular (or involved with anyone else who isn't nagi) than you think. to be honest, you've forgotten all about him, but you can still recognize his dark eyes and, annoyingly enough, even the scent of his cologne with just one moment of appraisal.
len looks at you, eyes widened and mouth agape, before he gets up and turns around, climbing up the stairs to find a different seat. you click your tongue, slightly ticked off that he ran away from you. again. okay, whatever.
just then, the referee blows the whistle, signaling the start of the game. reo gets the ball first touch, sneaking his way through defenders with his quick thinking and passes. you're impressed by his skill, but since this is the mikage reo we're talking about, you guess you should've expected it. the team moves accordingly, passing the ball back and forth between them, intensity already cranked up to the maximum so soon after it began.
well, mostly everyone is pumped up. nagi’s half-ass running makes you snicker, and you wonder if he's even going to do anything at all this match if his slouched, lethargic posture is anything to go by. but then you catch sight of his face when an opposing player comes up to him, his visage contorting from passive to mildly irritated. it's only a tiny change, hardly even noticeable, but since you've known him for so long you've gained a good understanding of these miniscule differences. you realize his opponent must have taunted him because now he's locked in, straightening up and dashing towards the penalty area.
for a pretty lax person, you wouldn't have guessed he'd be the type to be vindictive when provoked. most of the time, he does it unintentionally, showing off his unparalleled genius with barely any effort. the ball comes flying toward him, and it almost lands a few inches behind him yet he reaches it perfectly, twisting his body to trap the ball and swiftly kicking it to the goal in one fluid motion.
not even a minute in, hakuho scores a goal, and the world abruptly stops for a second.
absolute silence falls on the field, rendering both the opposing team and the crowd too stunned to speak or even move, save for reo who just beams at the prodigious striker.
“LET’S GO, SEISHIRO!”
the crowd subsequently erupts with deafening applause and cheers the moment they break out of their stupor, jumping out of their seats and yelling out what was that? in wonder and amazement.
nagi looks up as he hears your voice so distinctly clear from the bleachers. sure, he might have been a tad more zealous about that first goal, but it's not like it was a hard one to pull off—though you and everyone else’s reaction says otherwise, so he must've done something cool.
…still, is any of that really necessary? nagi likes that you've made it to his first ever official match, but you look as if you're one step away from joining the cheerleading squad and be his personal cheerleader. he watches as you cup your hands around your mouth, grinning widely at him across the field, and he thinks that you've never changed at all since middle school. you're always too loud, too forward, too bothersome, too annoying—
but that makes you, you. he wouldn't want it any other way.
for the rest of the game, hakuho dominates the match thanks to him and reo. at some point, the white-haired striker vaguely remembers his captain telling him about some sort of a hat trick, and that it was a really difficult move to pull off (not really) so he tries doing that just to show off a little. i mean, it's my debut, and you're watching, he reasons.
it’s over before he knows it, the score being an impressive 7-0. after the referee blows the whistle and the game ends, everyone explodes into cheers once again, nagi’s teammates huddling over, some jumping on his back and some even lifting him up.
“nagi!” reo cries out. “wow! i've never seen you worked that hard bef— wait, where are you going?”
when nagi glances towards the bleachers again, he sees you pushing past the other students, nearly hopping over them so you can get to the field, fueled by nothing but adrenaline and hype. he shrugs off his teammate's arms around him, making a beeline towards you. he doesn't even realize what he's doing, lured by the excitement and passion emanating from your presence.
“hey, what are you doing all the way h—”
“SEISHIRO, HELLO? that was so incredible, what the hell was that?!” you exclaim, launching yourself at him. luckily, he catches you just in time…unluckily, he underestimates your exhilaration, your tackle causing both you toppling down on the grass with you landing on top of him as he lets out an oof– as his back hits the grass. “you crazy bastard. i always knew you had it in you!”
from the corner of his eye, he sees reo’s head whipped in your direction, watching the two of you intently, but at the moment none of that matters. nagi still isn’t too good at reading people's emotions, but when it's displayed so clearly before him, your earnest gaze and a smile impossibly wide that your face must've hurt to hold that for so long, he realizes you make it easy for him to understand it this time with no room for any alternative perception.
strands of your hair fall against his face as you hover above him, and the afternoon sun is just about to set, creating a warm halo against your form, and nagi thinks you look as radiant as ever.
taglist: @yoimiya-lover @i2innie
SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE i got so busy irl 😔 taglist is open! just comment ^_^ (if im unable/forgot to tag you, pls lmk!!)
#blue lock x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#reo mikage x reader#mikage reo x reader#blue lock#nagi x reader#nagi seishiro x you
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ BACK TO YOU
↳ masterlist!
↳ summary: in which no matter where they are in life, chris and y/n find their way back to one another, despite knowing that it never really works, until day he gives in and stops fighting what he knows is meant to be.
↳ pairings: chris sturniolo x fem!oc, reader x unnamed male!oc, chris sturniolo x fem!reader
↳ warnings: swearing, angst (a whole lot of it), verbal arguments, chris and y/n are toxic, implications of chris cheating, fluff if you squint, suggestive implications.
↳ author's note: loosely based off everytime by ariana grande!
THIRD PERSON POV
in every culture and every religion, there is some sort of evidence of soulmates existing. the person your soul is forever tied to, setting you up for heartbreak along the journey looking for that one person. love is at the root of the structure of every belief system. the person that has been so perfectly tailored to your heart and soul, meant to love you in the ways you spend your life searching for.
look up: invisible string by taylor swift, for a beautiful depiction of a soulmate inspired love song.
the only issue with having a soulmate, is that nine out of ten times, you don't know who your soulmate is. which often leads to you spend hours upon hours and years upon years searching for them, inevitably experiencing various stages and forms of heartbreak in hopes that once you do find your soulmate, your forever person, they are able to heal and fix you.
but in chris and y/n's love story, them healing each other wasn't always the case. they were the fairytale from hell, they were a wrongful depiction of soulmates, two souls tethered together by an invisible red string that who, instead of loving each other, had a tendency to tears each other's hearts into millions of pieces each time they tried to love one another.
they were two souls so delicately similar that it caused them nothing but pain and frustration. they loved one another in the wrong ways, but they were determined to make it work, albeit at the wrong times.
PRESENT TIME
chris sighed as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, with a quick roll of his eyes, he fished the thin device out of his pocket, knowing full well who was texting him as he made his rounds through the crowd of friends and acquaintances at the party he attended.
groaning, her named flashed again in his notifications, he hovered his thumb over the text before pressing down, begrudgingly opening the conversation he had wished hadn't started, despite deep down wanting her to reach out to him.
IMESSAGE TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N
Y/N: guess u forgot to tell me that u and ur new bitch of the week would be here🤣
CHRIS: don't start tonight y/n
Y/N: i'm just shocked is all, didn’t think she’d fuck with these ppl just by looking at her
CHRIS: "she" has a name, y/n
CHRIS: it’s gianna
Y/N: you act like i give a fuck
Y/N: it’s nice to see you tho
CHRIS: please y/n, aren’t you tired of this shit?
CHRIS: you and i don't work, we literally never fucking do
CHRIS: and i really like this girl
Y/N: if you genuinely mean that, why are you spending so much time explaining it to me? sounds like you’re just tryna convince yourself that you feel that way.
Y/N: but if it’s real, then i'm happy for you, it's just weird that you and i aren't here together.
chris rolled his eyes at her second to last text, the way she could see right through like he was made of glass, even through a text, was something he’d never be able to understand. or run away from. there was never any sense in him even trying to lie to her, she could read him like a book. and chris was her favourite book, she would read that book ten times over in one sitting if she could.
but chris willed up all the self control he had in his entire being to not seek out the girl he's loved since he was a tiny boy in middle school. he told himself that it was done for good. that's the thing with playground love, it doesn't always last for ever and ever and chris was finally starting to accept that.
he pocketed his phone and forced himself to look for gianna, his eyes briefly meeting y/n's as she spoke to some random influencer, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes as she focused on the boy in front of her. he soon spotted the girl he arrived with, her hand flirtatiously resting on vinnie's bicep as he spoke to her. with a less than enthusiastic scoff, he downed the rest of the drink in his cup and turned around, walking in the opposite direction toward the girl he called home.
once he was in earshot, he smirked to himself as she pawned her cup off onto the poor boy fighting for a chance with her in front of him. once she waved him off with a bittersweet smile, she turned back to chris. she tutted playfully as he rolled his eyes, her hand reaching up toward the back of his neck, pulling him flush against the front of her body.
"what happened to "i really like her"?" she chuckled, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hands fell to her waist, pulling her into a hug, his lips meeting her jaw as he sighed.
"vinnie got to her and she was all over him." he spoke against her skin as her nails gently scraped against his scalp, bringing him down from his emotional high as his shoulders slumped in her arms.
"wanna get out of here? go for a walk?"
"nah, m'tired and just wanna go to bed, you crashing at mine?"
"of course." she spoke, her hand slipping into his as they walked toward the door, nick and matt meeting them there soon after chris texted them, neither of them surprised to find chris leaving with y/n instead of his girlfriend.
"i'm so happy you're here y/n, chris is a different man when you're not around." nick snorted, climbing into the seat behind matt as y/n sat behind chris, his hand slipping between the two front seats as her fingers threaded through his again.
"i'm glad to be back for however long chris needs me to be." she whispered, her words cutting deep into chris' heart, knowing that she wouldn't be around permanently, their dynamic and ways of communicating only allowing them to be together for a short period of time. they’d spend most their days tangled in chris’ sheets, professing their undying love for one another, knowing very well their time would be ending once again, and that it’d end soon.
they found that while they loved each other so deeply, they showed it in all the wrong ways. instead of gentle and soft spoken words, their love for one another was reminded in the clashing of teeth and tongues during heavy make-outs, and wandering hands with their nails digging into the soft flesh they roamed.
their rekindled romance was once again called off when chris' girlfriend, gianna, had come back into his life a week later, apologizing for her behaviour and explaining that she had been a fan of vinnie's for a long time and the fan girl in her caused her to make questionable decisions.
with a meek smile and a backhanded comment about chris’ infidelity, y/n packed her bags and moved out of chris' room sadly bidding matt and nick a brief "see you later", which left them sighing as they were no stranger to watching y/n move in and out of the house a couple times every few months.
it wasn't long before chris had found himself missing the girl that knew him inside and out, that knew his heart like the back of her hand. a month after gianna came back, spewing excuses upon excuses, chris had broken up with her, claiming that his heart would forever belong to someone else and he couldn't bear to put her through the pain of not loving her the way she deserved to be.
chris knew that he should take this grace period and be alone instead of running back to the girl he always did, but he knew she was it for him, no matter what. he didn't understand why they couldn't love each other properly. he always looked at it in a way where they had too much love for one another and they just didn't know what to do with it.
he tossed and turned in his bed, his thoughts unrelenting and holding his ability to sleep hostage as his phone read 3:32 in the morning. groaning he unlocked his phone, his thumbs maneuvering their way to her conversation from muscle memory at this point before typing out a quick couple messages.
IMESSAGE TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N
CHRIS: y/n come home
CHRIS: please
CHRIS: i cant sleep without you
CHRIS: i love you in a way that makes it hard to love anybody else
CHRIS: you are like a drug that i cant go without, you're deadass my soulmate bruh and i'm done denying that. you are the only person i want. the only that actually knows who i am, inside and out. the only person that can make me feel good the way you do. i want you. no more fighting it. we’re meant to be.
Y/N: i'll be there in 10.
every time y/n fell back into chris’ arms, it felt devastating and bittersweet. this time, it felt right. it felt like they had finally found solid ground and that the had found the way they were meant to be together. there was definitely some uncertainty about the longevity of their relationship overall, but they learned over time that they need to communicate. whether they stayed together or not for the final time, there was no doubt that they would always be intertwined in each other’s hearts.
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Second Chance | Jamie Drysdale
summary: jamie might still have your mind but does he really have your heart?
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual themes, p in v, mild choking, mild degradation, jealous jamie, swearing.
word count: 3.68k
authors note: for how long this took me I’m embarrassed to admit to how short it is… this part two was also so freaking weird to write so I’m hoping it’s a bit better to read.
pt 1
You had grown to hate Anaheim.
The city was a shell of its former self with where the shadows of Jamie seemed to haunt your mind. Everywhere you looked you swore he was there and you hated being met with the reality that he wasn’t. But most of all you hated the fact that you couldn’t seem to hate him.
Trevor noticed the decline in your mood but he just assumed that it was some kind of seasonal depression. And as he focused on building his new relationship with his girlfriend, he simply didn’t notice how far you had fallen. Trying to grapple with life as a twenty year old was always going to be tough and still feeling the pain of a broken heart that was dealt to you by the man who you couldn’t ever call yours.
It was this weird sense of grief you felt. You couldn’t say that you missed him because then what was it that you missed? He wasn’t your boyfriend, and at best Jamie was the guy you slept with from time to time. To top it all off you were a barely keeping it all together whilst Jamie seemed to be unscathed from the unfortunate emotions, only furthering your pain.
Your friends put you on enough dating sites to last anyone a lifetime as you were the only one single. And as you finally stopped turning them down, they wouldn’t give you a chance to change your mind. With each guy you could only find his downfalls or how he wasn’t like Jamie and how your heart and your brain just wanted the man who clearly wanted nothing to do with you.
So after almost three months of struggling with all of these men that clearly weren’t enough to pull your mind from the grasps of Jamie; you finally found someone who made you feel alive and funnily enough he had been right in front of you all along. Alex started hanging out more with you when Trevor started spending more time with Dixie.
Alex had actually shown up at the Zegras siblings apartment one night looking for Trevor “hey Al.” You smiled as you saw the boy stand over you “is Trev in?”Aled asked as he cocked his head shoving his hands into his shorts pockets.
Your lips pursed together as you shook your head “he’s out on a date.” Your words made him wriggle his eyebrows as he laughed “I got that man dinner for nothing?” Every Wednesday the duo would go for dinner if they didn’t have a game and now it seemed that your brother forgot of that tradition.
You frowned sending him a sigh “if you’re up for an episode of the bachelor I could eat?” You offered opening the door further as you smiled tilting your head inwards “since you asked so nicely.” Alex didn’t hesitate to nod as he walked in making himself comfortable on the couch.
That’s how your weeks ended, with Alex on the couch and he was no longer just your brothers best friend but instead a friend of yours. You had to say that you found yourself falling for him. With Alex it was no longer tough to not think about Jamie, instead now it was tough to not let your body feel like it was on fire with nerves.
All the way in Philly sat Jamie as he frowned staring at his phone in his empty apartment. The sound of a notification pulled him from his daze when he realised that he had a voicemail from you. It surprised him when he saw your name but after months of letting his thumb hover over the call button only stopping when the fear of hearing you upset got to him. But instead he was met with the sounds of you in bed with someone else.
The sounds of your breathe shaking echoed in the phones speaker “fuck Al!” You moaned letting your legs shake “you are such a pretty fucking girl.” Alex mumbled as he ran his finger over your clit. It made Jamie freeze listening to you having sex. Was he meant to hang up? Because this clearly wasn’t meant for him.
You grabbed the boy by the back of his neck as you pulled him forward “gonna come.” You announced kissing his lips “go make a mess on my fingers and I’ll make you feel real good with my cock.” As the offer left Alex’s lips a flurry of jumbled sounds and noises left your mouth signalling that you had reached your high.
The sounds made Jamie recoil in disgust as he didn’t know what to do about it. Most of all though he missed being the one who made you sound like that. Jamie didn’t know what to do as he felt his cock hardening in his pants. The season had ended and he was meant to be heading home to his parents but all he could think about was you. There were no rumours on twitter about you and this Al that Jamie swore was Turcotte.
And he knew that Twitter would have found something as they even had scraps of you and Jamie together swirling around the rumour mill. So as he was met with nothing but random pictures of you and Trevor, Jamie knew what he had to do.
You groaned when you were woken up to the incessant pounding on your door when you realised that Trevor was still out “alright I’m coming!” You complained rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
Before you could even properly open the door it was pushed into you as the raven haired boy that you knew so well walked in “where is he?” Jamie grunted looking around the pristinely clean apartment “where is who?” You yawned wondering if you were dreaming of Jamie being there.
The boy stopped planting his feet where he was as he sent you a harsh glare “the man you fucked last night y/n!” His words made you freeze as you began to wonder how he knew about what you had done the night before.
A laugh echoed through your ears “you gonna tell me you don’t remember giving me that front row seat to listen in?” your eyes went wide as you realised what had gone on.
You couldn’t help but bring your hand to your mouth as you held back a laugh “you came back because you heard me have sex?” You knew it wasn’t the time to bring it up but that clearly seemed to be his entire reason for being there and you were a fool to think that it could have been something else.
Jamie rolled his eyes as he felt himself grow angry “I leave for Philly and all of a sudden you’re deciding that your type simply has to be friends with your brother.” The flyer spat as he sent you a glare “you don’t get to go there!” The embarrassment you once held had left your chest as it had been replaced by anger.
He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms “why not?” Jamie spoke rhetorically as he cocked his head “because that’s the only thing we have in common.” He pointed out reminding you of how different the boys were.
You chewed at the inside of your cheek “you left me and came back to judge me for moving on?” Your voice was barely a whisper as the boy stepped closer to you.
Part of you was grateful for the fact that Alex left earlier that morning needing to catch a flight back to Michigan but the other part just wanted him to walk into the living room to stop whatever was going to come from this “you didn’t really move on though, did ya?” Jamie’s fingers were rough against your cheek as he towered over you.
A shaky breath left your lips “you’re being mean.” You pointed out trying your best to ignore his question “tell me to leave and I will.” Jamie announced pressing a cold and hard gaze against your weakening one.
The oxygen around the room was struggling to get into your lungs as you shook your head “you know I can’t.” It came with this defeated sigh that even made Jamie pity you “then why’d you go for him?” The question was like the one you had asked yourself so many times and could never find the answers to.
You shrugged as no answer really made the most sense “you enjoyed playing him is that it?” The hockey player was pushing your buttons in search of a particular answer “he’s good to me J.” You shook your head almost offended that the boy in front of you thought that lowly of you.
Yet it gave him the chance to laugh at you once more “better than I was?” It seemed like that was the first question you could actually shake off as you shook your head but this time to really say no “does he have you coming for rounds on end?” Especially once Jamie moved into out from the Zegras sibling’s apartment; it meant that you were over at his more often than not and up until the sun would rise.
Tears welled in your waterline “only you do that.” It was as though his cock left an imprint on your cunt that only he knew how to make feel full “I know my sweet girl.” You really thought that you had moved on from Jamie but as he stood in front of you with his hand caressing your cheek, you knew that you couldn’t have been more wrong.
Jamie put you out of your misery as his free hand gripped at your hip “how about I make you feel real fucking good?” He offered letting his lips hover over yours “please.” Was all the hockey player needed to hear as he picked you up letting your legs wrap around his waist as his lips locked with yours.
All of the lust and anger that both of you felt about the situation -about each other- was oozing out of your systems as your hands tugged through his hair pulling at the roots as his tongue slid into your lips “should fuck you out here like the real slut that you are.” He proposed letting a smirk form across his lips as he watched your eyes go wide.
Trevor had told you he was coming home, you just didn’t know when “Jim.” You whined shaking your head as you motioned your bedroom trying to tell him that today wasn’t the time for it “you worried that your little boy toy is gonna come back to see where you really belong?” Jamie nipped at your neck as he walked you both into your room making sure that the door was shut.
He watched in awe as your eyes scanned his face “his name is Alex, Jamie.” You reminded the boy as you felt guilty thinking about how sweet Alex was to you “and I’m gonna make sure you forget it.” Jamie’s announcement didn’t have you thinking otherwise as he placed you onto your bed settling into his place between your legs.
You had seen Jamie jealous before after you chugged a beer that Mason had given you. But this was a whole new level as if Jamie had something to prove “now rest that pretty little head of yours on that pillow f’me.” The hockey player reached behind you to grab your pillow as he pulled it closer to you.
One thing you always knew how to do was listen to him and today you didn’t disappoint. Your body nestled against your sheets as you looked at him with anticipation “god you’re soaked.” Jamie grunted seeing your soaked cunt as he trailed his fingers against your slit watching in awe as your wetness stuck to fingers.
He swore that the sight would truly never get old as he would watch you like this forever “please.” Your voice waivered as you forced your hips into the air “been thinking about having a taste of this all the fucking time.” Jamie confessed making you meet him with a whimper.
His lips pressed against your knee “Jamie.” You groaned feeling his breath go down your legs as he made sure to spread his love equally “yeah baby.” The hockey player turned his head up to look at you as you chewed at your lower lip.
A mewl left your lips “please fuck me.” You begged feeling desperate to feel him between your thighs again “don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he blew a cool air against your cunt “not after you were fucking him on our bed.” He didn’t even give you a chance to respond as his tongue latched onto your clit.
Your hands gripped at your sheets in an attempt to stop your body from curling into itself “‘m sorry.” You croaked out as your body melted into his touch
Jamie might as well have been a starved man as he treated you like you were his last meal “can’t believe you let him see my sweet tight pussy.” The boy raised his lips only far enough to bring his hand between you both so that he could hit your cunt.
It made you moan as your body shook “he would let me come.” You knew you were playing with fire as the hockey player sent you a glare “that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna get you in so much trouble.” Jamie warned edging dangerously close to you as he smirked.
You used the last bits of power and strength that you had left to smile “you used to deal with that by putting your cock in my mouth.” You swore that in that moment Jamie was seeing the devil as his pupils darkened “that’s before I had to treat you like somebody else’s whore.” He spat letting his fingers grip onto your hips as he turned you over resulting in a yelp leaving your lips.
Your didn’t often deceive you but in that moment you swore you heard Jamie grunt into your ear “you just had to go and give this pretty little cunt to someone who didn’t even deserve it.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he undid his belt.
You gripped at your sheets as you felt your shirt come off of your back as it was lifted up “see he isn’t a fan of you back here.” The hockey player mumbled to himself as your back looked untouched “at least I know your ass is still mine then.” He squeezed your ass in his fingers causing a breathy moan to leave your lips.
You couldn’t help but shake your ass pushing yourself into him “god I need to fuck you.” Jamie groaned feeling his cock throb as he felt your bare cunt grind against him “what are you waiting for then?” The question taunted him practically egging him on as you push his buttons further.
The swollen tip of his cock oozed precum as he wrapped his hand around his shaft “you’re lucky that I can’t get this cunt out of my head.” He grumbled pumping himself once then twice before he dragged the mushroom head over your slit.
It made your body tense as you curled your toes “fuck!” Your moan was swallowed by your pillow as Jamie smirked to himself “seems like you been missing me too.” The hockey player gripped at your hips as he let himself bottom you out.
Both of you stayed there for a moment as your walls hugged his length “like I never even left ya.” Jamie gritted his teeth as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts feeling his eyes flutter “was worried he would have ruined my pretty fucking pussy.” The boy spat oozing with jealousy as it made you whimper.
Tears formed in your waterline when your ass was met with a smack “no!” You cried as you shook your head “don’t worry doll.” Jamie kissed the back of your neck as his hands slid under you to cup your breasts.
The sounds of his thrusts echoed in your ears “could never ruin something that wasn’t his.” Your cunt clenched around Jamie as you were aroused by his possessiveness “you like hearing me say that you’re all mine huh?” You could feel his smirk like the Cheshire Cat as you nodded.
Jamie’s knees dipped into the mattress as he got the best angle into you “all yours.” You moaned as you turned your head up to see him looking back down at you “knew you still had a brain in that pretty head of yours.” The hockey player kissed your cheek as his cock throbbed from within you.
Your breasts bounced with each thrust of his cock “don’t stop J.” You begged feeling a coil snap in your stomach “you feel you haven’t had a good fuck in months.” Jamie wasn’t lying when he said that, your cunt stretched to his cock and it was as though he hadn’t been with you before.
Cries let your lips as you babbled a steady stream of incoherent nonsense “make me feel so full.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as your legs began to shake “you feel me in here?” Jamie asked pressing his hand against your lower stomach where he felt his cock hit your gspot that left you yelping out in pleasure.
His fingers slid lower to rub your clit “fuck I’m gonna come.” You announced not thinking that you would be able to last much longer “gonna hold it until you ask nicely.” Jamie clicked his tongue as his free hand was quick to move to your neck as he pulled you closer to him as he held you upright.
Sweat stuck your both of you as his thrusts began to grow unstable and inconsistent “please let me come.” You called out not caring who could hear you “just want to be all yours.” You nodded feeling your vision get blurry as you didn’t think you were going to last much longer.
Jamie let his teeth sink into your shoulder as he stopped himself from coming in that moment “you never gonna let him get close to your pretty cunt ever again?” Jamie spat pressing his fingertips over the sides of your throat.
You swore your throat was raw as you kept on begging to have him let you come “I’m only yours Jamie.” You mumbled nodding as your ears began to ring “you fucking own me.” That was enough to let Jamie go feral as he used the little energy he had left to practically fuck you into oblivion “just go make a mess on my cock doll.” The order wasn’t something he needed to say twice.
As your cunt clenched around him it triggered the hockey players orgasm on as he spurted his warm load in sticky strings against your cunts walls “fuck J.” You whined writhing against him as you practically forgot how to breathe when the oxygen to your brain began to slow.
It took him a few more thrusts until you both landed on your mattress and his hand left your neck “wow.” Jamie mumbled sliding his cock out from your cunt to see your release mix either his as it oozed out “you okay?” He added flipping you over onto your back as you finally got the chance to look at him.
The way his eyes scanned you deep of concern made you laugh “that was the hottest thing I think you’ve ever done.” You confessed making him match your laugh as he leaned down to kiss you “think I can make it a little hotter then.” Jamie proposed running his hand down your slit before he scooped up whatever release that had oozed from your cunt as he now let it go back into your core as he pushed his fingers through your hole.
That day left an imprint on your mind as four weeks had gone by and Jamie had become nothing more than one of Trevor’s friends. Confessions seemed to way less than your brothers tears as he drunkenly sobbed into your arms one night begging you to end whatever it was after he found you in Jamie’s shirt.
Thankfully Trevor seemed to have no recollection of the conversation as he invited Jamie along to the family house on the lake a little over a month from now. Sure it was going to be weird for you but after a long call with Jamie you both agreed that it was going to be best for things to end for the sakes of Trevor.
He tried to put up a fight but when you brought up distance amongst other factors, Jamie knew he had lost the battle. You and Alex were merely enjoying things the way they were.
It was the perfect balance that truly didn’t need a label to have you feeling secure. Yet as you stood in the bathroom waiting for your timer to go off part of you began to curse your big brother for having to come to you, and for you having to be a good person.
Your period had been late and as it was bikini season you never complained but when you did the math backwards you realised that something was off. Even if you had shared your bed with two different guys, only one had you without any kind of protection between you both was Jamie.
And as you flipped the test over to see the thick bold letters spelling out the word PREGNANT you knew you were in all sense of the word fucked. No amount of tears was ever going to help make this situation better as you began to panic. Your head pressed against your knees as you wanted to wake up from this dream.
Al 🖤: just booked my flight see you next month x
#ambers love moments#amber writes fics#jamie Drysdale smut#jamie Drysdale imagines#oneshots#imagines#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#nhl oneshot#nhl imagine#hockey smut#nhl smut
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Dirty Words
Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson
Summary: Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.
Word Count: 10.2K
Chapters: 1 of 1
Content Warning: Explicit m/m sexual content including dirty talk, masturbation, hand jobs, spit and cum as lube, allusions to anal sex, scent kink, spit kink, multiple orgasms, and oral sex. Excessive swearing. Recreational drug use and drinking. This post includes explicit sexual content, foul language, and sensitive themes. It is intended for those 18 and older ONLY. I am not responsible for the media you consume.
Disclaimer: All characters in my fics engaging in sexual acts are—and always will be—18 or older, even if not explicitly stated.
DIRTY WORDS
Eddie is feeling all floaty and shit. The weed Argyle gave him really is better than the skunkweed he’s been peddling in alleyways since he was sixteen years old. Not that he’ll ever admit to it. Definitely a fact he’ll take to his grave.
But for now, Eddie has the weekend off from his new, lousy day job that Steve and (mostly) Robin managed to bag him at Family Video. To be honest, it had been a last resort. But turns out, business is shit after he fucking finally graduated high school. And now—cherry on top!—he’ll have to figure out how to file taxes and shit. Welcome to the corporate world.
With a sigh, Eddie takes another drag from the perfectly rolled joint that he made himself. Argyle can’t top him on that, at least.
Eddie giggles to himself. Top him. Shit, Argyle could top him if he really wanted to, considering how fucking pent up—
The phone rings, making Eddie jump a good six inches from the sunken couch cushion he’s lounging on. He scrambles to a sitting position, and then lifts himself onto his legs that only slightly wobble like a newborn giraffe underneath him. He runs to the yellowing, plastic phone that’s hung up on his uncle’s trailer’s wall, hoping that maybe it’s the guy Eddie’s been fooling around with on the other end of the line. Maybe he could try the whole phone sex thing. Again. And not fuck it up this time.
“Hello?”
“Eddie?” Steve asks, voice all staticky through the speakers. “Why does it sound like you just ran a marathon, dude?”
Eddie realises he’s panting. He’s not sure if it’s from the short dash to the telephone, or if it’s because his blood was rushing to his cock for a minute there instead of his lungs.
Either way, he should probably consider going for a jog once in a while or something. It’s kind of sad that he’s winded.
“Shut up, man,” he says. “Maybe I was running a marathon. You’d never know.”
“I do know. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you decide to exercise willingly. The sun will be rising in the West. The sky will be green and the grass will be blue when Eddie Munson runs a marathon.”
“You forgot when pigs fly.” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He nearly drops the phone that’s wedged between his ear and his shoulder. “Did you call to talk about my general lack of fitness, or is there another reason you called, Harrington?”
“I’m bored,” Steve whines. The phone line crackles. Eddie can only assume Steve is, like, laying in bed or something.
Laying in bed, in those navy blue sheets. Shirtless. Maybe fresh out of the shower. A little wet still, his hair sticking up around his head—
No. Nope.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will away the next image (a towel slipping away from Steve’s hips), because three months ago he made a rule for himself. No more fantasising about Steve goddamn Harrington.
It had been becoming nearly impossible to look the other man in the eye after some of the things Eddie imagined doing with him.
Steve continues on, completely unaware of Eddie’s wandering mind. “Robin is working tonight and tomorrow so she can’t hang.”
“Glad to know I’m your second choice,” Eddie teases.
“No! No, I would have called you either way.”
“Sure you would have.”
Eddie smiles to himself. He’s not actually miffed. He and Steve have become way closer than he would have ever imagined possible. It started when Robin would ask him to hang out, and then she’d invite him along with her and Steve, and then somehow he and Steve just started hanging out alone. And it wasn’t even all that awkward.
Turns out Eddie is cooler than Steve thought, and Steve is more of a loser than Eddie thought.
“Eddie,” Steve groans. And Eddie tries not to be perverted about how good it sounds. “Come on, dude. Let’s hang out.”
“Can’t, man,” Eddie says. “I’m busy.”
“What? No you’re not. It’s nine at night and you’re at home. I also know Wayne works a double, so he won’t be back until tomorrow night.”
“It’s weird that you know my uncle’s schedule.”
“No it’s not; he works the same shifts every week. Point is, I know you’re alone. Unless you have other friends that I don’t know about?”
“I do have other friends!” (Not really. Just a guy Eddie’s made out with a couple times in the city, and the members of Corroded Coffin who’re away for the summer.)
“Oh.” Steve goes quiet for a moment, and Eddie feels like he won. But then, “Well, are they over right now?”
“No, but—”
“Then you’re not busy! I can bring movies. I have Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Wildcats—”
“What makes you think I want to watch a sports movie?”
“And Labyrinth.”
Eddie’s jaw clenches. Shit, he loves David Bowie, and he hasn’t been able to get his hands on a copy yet. But he also knows Steve won’t just return the movie before Eddie has the chance to see it, because Steve isn’t mean like that. Not like Eddie is.
“I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Getting high and being alone!” And jerking off for the next hour and a half to see how many times he can make himself come before it becomes unbearable.
Eddie doesn’t add that last point, for obvious reasons.
“I like getting high. Please, Eddie? I’m so bored. And my house is empty and quiet, and you know how I get nightmares when—”
“Okay! Okay, oh my god, fine. You’re so whiny.” Eddie had no idea Steve was such a beggar. He kind of likes it. “But you have to bring beer as payment. Afterhours fee.”
“Yes,” Steve says, sounding like he’s doing something dorky like punching the air. “Beer it is. See you soon.”
“Hey, Harrington, can you give me, like—” half an hour, Eddie wants to say. But the line goes dead.
He wonders if he can manage to pump one out before Steve gets to the trailer. And the thing is, his dick is harder than he’d like to admit after hearing Steve’s voice. So he’s going to try.
Eddie runs to his room, pulls down his flannel pants so the elastic sits taut under his balls. He doesn’t bother laying in his bed; he just sits on the edge of it, facing his mirror, watching as he fists his own cock and gives it a few tugs. It’s not a narcissism thing, Eddie just likes the visual. Likes to imagine it’s someone else’s hand, or someone else’s cock. Likes to see the tip of it, shiny and red, as his foreskin pulls down his shaft to expose it.
He wonders if Steve is cut or not.
Fuck—no. No, no, no.
Eddie shouldn’t be thinking about Steve, he should be thinking about the guy from the bar. About how hard his dick had been, pressing into Eddie’s hip as they made out against the wall in the alleyway.
Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s doing something…
Eddie watches as his hand pumps over his cock, watches as it starts to strain, the veins popping from the skin as he builds himself up. He squeezes hard around the crown. It only gives a little under the pressure, considering how hard he is, but it makes his dick offer up a pearl of precum that he gathers and spreads around the slit. When he lifts his thumb away, a sticky string connects his hand between his legs.
He likes the way that looks. He likes when things start to get messy. He wonders if he’ll ever get to see the guy from the bar’s cock like this, if he also likes to play with cum and spit.
If Steve ever plays with cum and spit when he’s on his own, like Eddie does. He wonders how Steve touches himself, what he likes, what he doesn’t like, what sounds he makes, what face he makes…
Oh fuck, oh fuck. Yeah, that’s fucking good.
Okay. Okay it’s fine, Eddie will just think about Steve one more time, and then he’ll for sure stop doing it. Just this one more time…
A jolt travels from Eddie’s cock into the tight muscles of his stomach as he imagines Steve’s face all twisted up in pleasure. Those strong thighs bracketing Eddie’s head as he sucks back little dribbles of salty white that leak out of Steve. His nose brushing against a mound of dark hair that Eddie just knows would grow thick around the base of Steve’s cock; little curls that smell like honey and almond soap, because Steve uses the expensive shit.
Jesus Christ. What he wouldn’t give to go down on Steve, just once. Just one time.
Eddie’s mouth waters as his hand flies harder, faster. He’s so fucking close. Just a quick, dirty orgasm before Steve comes over. Steve. Fuck, yes, Steve—
There’s a loud knock on Eddie’s front door.
No! Shitshitshit. He just needs two more minutes. Maybe not even that, just one—
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is muffled beyond the walls of the trailer. Eddie almost considers letting him wait outside while he finishes up, but he can hear Steve’s footsteps getting closer to his bedroom window.
A rock hits the glass and shocks Eddie enough that it sets him back. Now it would definitely take the full two minutes.
“Shit! Goddamn fucking Harrington—” Eddie stands from the mattress and releases his cock from the death grip he had on it. It bobs between his legs, so fucking stiff that there’s no way it’s going away on its own anytime soon. “One sec!”
Eddie has no choice but to tuck his cock into the waistband of his pants. The tip pokes up under his navel, like it’s staring angrily at him for not finishing the job he started. It’s throbbing, and leaking, and getting the fabric it’s tucked into all damp.
“Same,” he mumbles to his dick as he grabs a longer t-shirt and pulls it over his head.
Another rock smacks against his window.
“Coming!” Well, he was about to anyway.
He doesn’t jog to greet Steve, because he doesn’t want to risk his dick slipping from its hiding spot. That is a conversation Eddie wants to avoid.
When he opens the front door, Steve has another rock in his hand, aimed towards Eddie’s window.
“You better not throw that, Harrington.”
Steve’s head whips around. His eyes are full of mischief, a small smile on his lips. His hair is freshly washed and styled, just like Eddie suspected. And his outfit is positively sinful (if you’re horny like Eddie is). Grey sweatpants and a plain white tee, which Eddie thinks is the guy version of lingerie.
Totally unfair, especially when Eddie would just like if his dick would go soft again.
“Why did you take so long, dude? Your trailer park is scary in the dark.”
Eddie gawks at Steve. “You’ve literally fought monsters and a dark wizard in an alternate dimension, and you think my trailer park is scary?”
“Yeah.” Steve points over his shoulder to a mobile home down the lane. “There was an old dude watching me from his window.”
“Mr. Jackson?” Eddie tilts his head, sees the curtains ruffling as his neighbour draws them back. “He’s… mostly harmless. I think.”
“You think?” Steve flings up Eddie’s steps and quickly locks the door behind him.
“Totally. I mean, besides the shotgun he keeps next to his couch. But that’s reserved exclusively for handsome young men that come around the trailer park after nine PM.” Eddie checks his watch, gasps in mock fear, widens his eyes, and peers out of the window behind Steve’s head. “That means you’re not safe! I think—I think I hear him loading the gun!”
Steve grabs Eddie’s arm, just for a second, as he cranes his head to look out the window. When Eddie’s sarcasm finally sinks in, he lets go and punches him (a little too hard) where his hand had been. “You’re such a dick.”
“I think that was kind of a compliment,” Eddie says, rubbing at the place where he would surely bruise. “I did say you were handsome.”
Steve flops down on Eddie’s couch and tosses a bag full of VHS tapes and a six pack onto the ground by his feet. He leans back, like he’s making a point, flourishing his hand over the length of his body with the most disgustingly sexy lazy smile on his face. “Yeah, well, that’s common knowledge.”
Jesus.
Eddie looks down to make sure his cock is still out of sight. He can feel it pulse between his legs as he hears Steve’s voice, sees how he stretches on the sofa. But thank God, he’s still tucked away and Steve should be none the wiser.
He takes his place next to Steve—makes sure his shirt drapes loose enough around him that it hides how hard he is.
He wonders if blue balls are a real thing. Will Eddie have severe health defects if he doesn’t come? Will his boner go away on its own?
Questions that he’ll find out sooner or later, he supposes.
“Little full of yourself, are you, Harrington?”
Steve sighs. “Not at all. It’s actually hard work being this gorgeous. You would know.”
Eddie feels his cocky expression fall from his face.
Did Steve just call him gorgeous? Or did Eddie totally misinterpret his words? He blushes and figures it’s better to be safe than be sorry. “Sure,” is all he replies with.
“So,” Steve says casually, “where’s this weed I’ve been hearing so much about?”
Eddie smiles, big and sweet, and points towards his bedroom where he left the joint to fizzle out in an ashtray before he molested himself. “Be a dear and go grab it from my nightstand?”
The truth is, Eddie’s pretty sure the tip of his dick slipped from under the elastic of his pants when he sat down. Miraculously, he thinks it’s starting to deflate by the teensiest fraction, but it would still basically slap Harrington in the face if he tried to stand.
Which—good thing or bad thing? Eddie isn’t sure. That would all have to do with Steve’s reaction. But he’s not willing to find out.
Steve rolls his eyes but gets up like a good little boy to fetch the ashtray. He brings it and the lighter to the coffee table where Eddie had been smoking before.
Fifteen minutes later, Eddie is back in his floaty state with a beer between his legs instead of a hard on. Turns out, stiffies don’t actually last forever if you don’t let yourself come. It’s just very, very frustrating.
“You up for another beer?” Steve asks slowly, reaching into the bag to grab two bottles. His eyes are glazed and blown, and Eddie thinks he looks totally fucked up already. It’s hilarious.
“Yeah, I’m down.”
Steve hands Eddie a new PBR, and his eyes do this little flare thing that makes him look adorable. “Woah.”
“Woah what?” Eddie asks, popping the cap and replacing his empty bottle with the new one.
“Being up for something and being down for something mean the same thing, even though they’re the opposites. I just realised that.”
Eddie smiles against the lip of the bottle, feeling the glass clink against his teeth. “Shit, man, you’re so high.”
“Am not.” Steve honest to God giggles as he makes eye contact with Eddie. “Okay. Maybe a little.”
“I’m glad you came over, Harrington,” says Eddie after a beat. “Better than another night alone.”
Steve opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but he’s cut off by the sound of the telephone ringing.
Both men turn their heads to stare at the wall phone, but Eddie doesn’t make a move to stand up to actually answer.
Because, for some reason, his mind is suddenly going a million miles a minute.
He knows it’s not his uncle calling in the middle of work, and he knows it’s obviously not Steve. The chances that it’s Robin are slim to none because her shift doesn’t end for another half hour. Gareth and Jeff are away with their respective families.
So the most logical answer to who’s calling after dark, would be the guy from the bar.
And the thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to raise questions. Isn’t sure if he’s capable of thinking of a good enough excuse as to who it was or why he’s calling. Yeah, he could probably have at least answered and told Bar-Guy to call back tomorrow, that he has company, but his brain isn’t thinking fast enough. So he just kind of… stares at the phone as it rings.
“I’ll get it,” Steve says after a few seconds, and suddenly he’s standing from the couch and reaching for the telephone—
“No!” Eddie pounces, because that’s even worse than if Eddie just answers the damn phone himself. He flounders towards Steve, grabbing the outstretched hand, stopping it from curling around the phone. “Stop! Stop—just let it ring!”
Steve gawks at him, but holds his hands in surrender in front of his chest.
The phone rings one more time, and then the kitchenette goes quiet.
Eddie heaves a sigh of relief, even though he probably just made more questions arise than he avoided by not picking up.
“What—what was that about?”
“Nothing,” Eddie huffs, dragging his feet back to the couch.
Steve follows closely behind. Just as Eddie flops onto the cushions, Steve is on top of him, tickling the shit out of Eddie’s arms, his sides, his stomach.
Eddie was not expecting anything like this—Steve’s hands all over him, his leg slung over Eddie’s to hold him down, the smell of Steve’s breath hitting his face. It’s not a bad smell, like freshly brushed teeth and beer and weed, and it’s warm, because their faces are so close together.
All Eddie can to is half-shriek-half-laugh, even as his mind muddles with confusion (and lust. Obviously).
“Tell me!” Steve commands, digging his fingers into Eddie’s neck, down his back, dangerously close to his thighs…
The boner that he just got rid of starts to fill out once more.
“Stop, dude!” Any sense of authority is lost under Eddie’s laughter that he can’t control. “No! Stop!”
“Come on, Munson. Spill the beans.”
Eddie tries flipping onto his stomach, but Steve follows him, blanketing over his back. The panes of his chest press behind Eddie, hard and warm, crowding him against the pillows. And there’s also friction.
Friction that could easily become a problem if Steve keeps goddamn moving against Eddie, making his hips rub against the couch—
“Okay! Uncle. Uncle!”
Eddie keeps panting face-down as Steve lifts himself away from his back.
“So?” Steve asks with a smile in his voice, triumphant from his win. An unhonourable win, as far as Eddie is concerned. Tickle torture is a serious offense. “What’s up your ass?”
Eddie snorts as he sits up, casually grabbing one of the throw cushions to hold against his lap.
Nothing, he wants to say. That’s the problem.
Instead, he just kind of adverts his gaze and goes for the truth.
“I’ve—kind of—been talking to…” this guy.
It’s not like Eddie has been hiding his sexuality from Steve, per se, but other dudes are way less accepting than girls about it. His first official ‘coming out’ had been to Robin (an obvious choice after she told him she’s a lesbian), and then to Nancy.
Apparently, Steve had been really cool when Robin told him she likes girls. But this is a different situation. Steve might be afraid that Eddie will, like, come on to him or something. Which… fair enough. Eddie probably would.
So, instead of finishing with the whole truth, he dampens it down a bit, and says, “Someone.”
“Oh. Shit.” Steve’s eyes do this thing where they drop to the floor, and then shoot sideways to Eddie, his eyebrows crumpled like a cartoon above his nose. He grabs the blunt, takes a deep drag. “That’s good though, right?”
Eddie shrugs. “Sure.”
“Sweet. So what’s the issue?”
All of it. Everything.
Because said guy lives all the way in Indianapolis—two hours away—and the only chance they have to communicate is through phone. Which, by proxy, means that the only times they can actually meet up is after a phone conversation.
Not to mention the fact that they aren’t, like, official—that they just made out a few times. Once outside of the bar, and a couple times in the back of Eddie’s van, which left him achingly hard when they parted ways.
This circles back to point number one about the phone conversations. They’re awkward. They don’t know each other well, don’t know what to talk about. Things don’t just flow naturally. Not like they do with—oh, say—Steve.
Maybe the worst part is that Eddie is a twenty-one-year-old man with raging hormones that—as much as he wishes otherwise—he cannot control. His self-discipline is basically nil. Nada. Zero. He’s fucking horny all the time.
So how is he supposed to deal with long-distance plus rare phone calls?!
Bingo. Yep. Phone sex. It’s the obvious answer, is it not?
So Eddie, like, tried.
And he thought it started well!
What are you wearing? Is that not fucking obvious where Eddie was headed? Is that not the exact line that they use in movies and shit? That’s what he said—What are you wearing?—and then he shoved his hand down his pants and waited for Bar-Guy to get into it, start saying something filthy into the speaker that would get Eddie going.
Maybe like… ‘Nothing at all,’ or, ‘tight boxers that show off my cock,’ or—fuck—'a towel slung low on my hips’. Something like that!
But all Eddie got was, “Uh—sweatshirt. Jeans. Why are you breathing hard?”
And then Eddie had said, “Just thinking about you,” with his low and gravelly voice, to help keep the conversation moving (again, he thinks this is pretty obvious and, like, at least a bit sexy).
Here’s the real kicker. The dude then said, “Are you… touching yourself?”
And it was not a sexy question. He sounded completely weirded out! Horrified! Disgusted!
So Eddie pulled his hand out of his pants and basically yelled, “No!”
Deny deny deny. Eddie is good at that shit.
The conversation had gone on to other things. Dinner plans, or something. Eddie didn’t really care. All he could think about was that this guy probably didn’t want to fuck him. They’d had the opportunity before, and it never progressed. And the thought of Eddie even fisting his own cock all but repulsed him.
Such a damn shame. Because Eddie is so desperate, so pent up, so sick of fucking his own hand, that he’s literally about to drill a hole in one of Uncle Wayne’s oranges and go to town until there’s nothing left but pulp.
Eddie doesn’t tell Steve any of this. He just groans really loud and buries his face in his hands, and says, “I don’t know!”
“C’mon, man. Something’s up. Out with it.” Steve waves his hand in encouragement, vaguely gesturing to the empty trailer and himself. “Safe space.”
Eddie peeks through his fingers at Steve, and he just looks so… genuinely curious. Like he actually wants to help, or at least hear, Eddie’s problems.
“Okay, fine.” Eddie snatches the joint from between Steve’s fingers and sucks it back like it’s water, keeping his gaze from Steve’s (beautiful) hazel eyes. “It’s just that I… I kind of made it awkward. Last time we talked on the phone. I tried to initiate… uh”—he clears his throat—“phone sex.”
Steve’s eyes go wide, his forehead crinkling with surprise. His lips are shiny and pink. But that second part doesn’t have anything to do with Steve’s expression—Eddie just happened to notice them.
“Fuck,” Steve says, leaning forward to set his bottle on the table in front of them. “Yeah. I’ve been there before, man. What happened?”
“What do you mean, what happened?”
“I don’t know. What did you say? I assume it didn’t go well considering how you’re all… tense and shit.”
“Tense and shit.” Eddie laughs once, then mumbles, “You have no idea.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Steve encourages.
“It’s not! I started with the classic, what are you wearing?” Eddie drops an octave, making fun of his attempt to sound hot. “And then I got an actual play by play of what they were wearing.”
Steve sits back and thinks about it for a minute—his legs splayed, and his arms crossed over his chest. “I think the issue with that is… it’s obvious, but it’s not sexy.”
“How is it not sexy, dude?” Eddie asks, exasperated. “It’s literally a steppingstone into, like, a form of sex!”
“Yeah, sure, but it doesn’t get you hot. You know?”
“No, Steve, I don’t know. Because I’m always hot. Someone could bend to tie their shoes and I’d fucking cream my pants.”
Steve hiccups a startled laugh. “Fuck. Me too. It’s been forever.”
“I don’t think it’s natural for a guy to go this long, man.” Eddie swigs back the rest of his beer and cracks a third. Lights up a new joint, too. And honestly, regardless of his tolerance, he’s pretty fucked up.
“Do you know how many chicks I’ve gone out with? None of my dates have even led to hands stuff. It at least sounds like you’re close to sealing he deal.” Steve lolls his head towards Eddie with a cheeky little smile on his lips. “I mean, if you didn’t suck at talking dirty.”
“I do not suck!” Eddie cries, grabbing the throw cushion from his lap to smack it against Steve’s smug face.
Steve catches the pillow and rips it playfully away from Eddie’s grip. “Then show me.”
Eddie stares at Steve for way too long. He narrows his eyes after a few seconds. “You’re kidding me.”
“Not kidding. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re doing wrong.” Steve leans forward, plucks the joint right out of Eddie’s slack lips. “Just pretend I’m on the other end of the line.”
“No way, dude.”
Steve curls his hand up to look like a telephone, pretends to dial in a number. Brings it up to his ear. “Riiiinngg. Riiiinngg. C’mon, Eds, you’re getting a sexy phone call. Pick up. Riiinngg.”
Eddie feels his face flush red. He’s not sure if it’s from where this conversation is headed, or out of sheer embarrassment for Steve’s sake. “Holy fuck. You’re such a loser, Harrington.”
“I’ll just pretend you already answered and said hello. Hey, Eds. It’s… wait, what’s this guy’s name?”
Eddie opens his mouth. Then closes it again, because Steve just said guy. Not girl. Guy. Is this a slip of the tongue? Or did Buckley out Eddie to Steve? Or Nancy?
No, neither of them would do that. Maybe Steve just figured it out from context clues.
But still, to be sure, Eddie just says, “What?”
“What’s his name?” Steve askes again.
So—shit—it definitely wasn’t a slip of the tongue. But Steve isn’t freaking out. Hasn’t freaked out in the past. And he’s looking at Eddie expectantly, but not judgy or anything.
Eddie clears his throat. “Nick.”
“Nick! Strong name. Not as strong as Steve, but not everyone can be a Steve—”
“Come on, man!” Eddie groans. Again. Hides his face. Again.
“Okay, Okay!” Steve clears his throat. “Hey, Eds, it’s Nick. What’re you up to?”
Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it forcefully out of pursed lips. “Uhh—hey, Nick… I’m…”—his eyes flick sideways to catch Steve staring at him with a half-smile on his face—“no. Nope! I can’t do this.”
Eddie goes to stand from his perch on the couch, but Steve’s arm shoots out to grab him. “Alright. Let’s just do it, you and me. No phone roleplaying required. Just start with saying a compliment you’d tell Nick or something.”
“Alright… Okay… Uh, you’re—I mean Nick—is really funny?” Eddie says. Nick isn’t all that funny but, fuck, it’s all Eddie can think of. Steve is funny, though, so it’s easy enough to say.
“Yeah, good. That’s good. What else?”
“And you’re really hot. Really fucking hot.”
“Good.” Steve shifts around on the couch, maybe trying to get more comfortable. “And then Nick would say something like, You’re really hot, too.”
Eddie stifles a giggle. “I really don’t think he would.”
“Well, just pretend he does. And then it’s your turn to keep the conversation heading in the direction you want it to.”
“By saying what, Harrington?”
“Try saying how I—Nick—makes you feel.”
“Okay. You make me feel… like I’m vibrating. Like I’m pressurized, or something.”
“Yeah?” Steve breathes, his voice dropping an octave. Probably just getting more into character. “What does that make you do, when you feel like that?”
“It makes me… makes me hard.” Eddie feels his hips pitching forward. His cock twitches under his flannel pants.
A dangerous game they’re playing. Maybe Steve doesn’t know just how serious Eddie was when he said he’s pent up.
“Fuck,” Steve says lowly.
“Too much?”
“No! Nah, it’s good. It’s hot. I mean, sometimes it’ll take longer to build into that kind of stuff, but keep going.”
Eddie nods nervously. “Okay. Uh, what do I say now?”
Steve sits up a bit to adjust the band of his sweats. “Sorry. So, you said it makes you hard. And then I’d say… me too. That it makes me hard just talking about it. Just thinking about it.”
Eddie’s dick is starting to properly fill out again. It makes sense since he never got to come after taking himself right to the edge before Steve came over.
He takes a steadying breath to try to will it away. “Shit. Okay.”
“Do you like that?” Steve asks. “Do you like thinking about how hard my cock gets when I think about you?”
“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie pulls at the hem of his shirt, desperately trying to stretch it beyond his crotch where he is most definitely about to tent his pants. Maybe if he wore boxers it would have been easier to conceal. “I don’t think we should do this.”
“It’s okay. It just means we’re doing good, right?” Steve slides his hips forward, making his sweats tighten against the bulge between his own legs.
Eddie lets his eyes linger there for longer than he should. There’s no way that Steve is getting turned on by all of this, but shit, he is. The proof is in the pudding—if the pudding is his dick that is suspiciously growing under the heather grey fabric.
He can’t help but blurt out, “I want to suck your cock.”
Because it’s true. Eddie’s mouth is watering just from the thought of it. But as soon as the words push past his lips, he realises that it’s not exactly fitting in the theme of phone sex. So he quickly adds, “If we were together right now. Instead of—uh—just on the phone.”
“Fuck, yeah. You’d suck my cock so good.” Steve licks his lips, and Eddie swears his eyes trail over his body, landing between his legs and then back up to his mouth. “I’d fuck your throat so deeply you’d gag and drool all over yourself.”
Eddie can’t help himself from groaning at that image. And as if his body is proving to Steve just how right he is, a trickle of saliva escapes the corner of his lips before he’s able to swallow it back.
He lifts his hand to wipe the back of it against his mouth. “Jesus, Steve.”
Steve shifts closer to Eddie. His voice is low and soft and seductive, and Eddie is having a very hard time remembering that this is a game as he says, “And then I’d ask if you’re touching yourself.”
The words echo those of Nick’s. But when Steve says them, he doesn’t sound horrified at the thought. He sounds like he wants Eddie to be fucking his hand while they talk. Like the thought turns him on almost as much as it does Eddie.
“I would be, by now,” Eddie confesses, wiping his sweaty palms against his knees. He desperately wants to trail them higher, wants to rub between his legs where he’s throbbing and hot. His pants feel like a sauna. They’re humid and sticky, and he knows it’s partly because he’s radiating heat, but also because his cock is already starting to dribble.
“I would be, too,” Steve says. “I mean, Nick would be, too. If I was Nick. And I’d—I’d ask how you were touching yourself. What it felt like.”
Eddie glances between Steve’s legs again. And—holy shit—Steve is hard. As hard as Eddie.
His cock is fucking massive, as far as Eddie can tell. Thick, and long, sitting sideways inside his pants against his hip. Eddie knows it would stand proud by Steve’s belly button if it wasn’t trapped.
And he’s also pretty sure Steve is circumcised by the obvious ridge he can see under the fabric.
Maybe it’s dumb, or false hope, or just how ridiculously horny he is (again), but Eddie is feeling encouraged. Because he’s not the only one who’s getting hot. He’s not the only one who’s participating, or the only one who’s bricked up.
So… why not get into it a bit more?
“I’d say that I have my hand wrapped around my cock. That it feels heavy in my hand. And wet. That I’m leaking all over myself.” Eddie’s hips pitch forward on their own accord, the sensitive tip of his dick deliciously grazing against the flannel of his pants. “And I’d tell you that it feels good. Really fucking good. But it would feel better if it was your hand instead.”
Steve is the first one to break.
Eddie can tell it’s an automatic reaction when he reaches for his cock and squeezes where it’s straining under his sweats. Awareness shimmers in Steve’s eyes, and he quickly pulls his hand away again. “Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s all good,” Eddie says fast as a whip, repeating Steve’s words from earlier. “Just means we’re doing good, right?”
“Yeah.” Steve’s laugh is small and breathy. “Really good.”
Eddie swallows his nerves, decides to see if he can keep whatever this is going. “What would you say after that?”
It seems it’s Steve’s turn to be flustered. Eddie can see red creeping up his neck, like his chest is flushed. It reaches his cheeks and makes him look all bright and pink. “I’d tell you what I’d be doing.”
“Which would be?”
“I’d be reaching under my pants, and I’d circle my fingers around my dick. Gently at first, because—because I’m sensitive down there. And I want to make it last.” Eddie watches as Steve’s hands lift back to his lap. And then pinch the hem of his shirt. A strip of his sun-kissed stomach flashes as his fingers tease against the drawstring of his pants. “Like this.”
Steve’s hand disappears as it pushes down into his sweats. It moves along the length of his cock. He adjusts so it’s no longer sitting sideways; it’s now straight up, as big as Eddie assumed, dangerously close from peeking past the waistband.
Eddie would not be upset if it did.
The best part is when Steve’s hand starts moving under the fabric. Long, soft strokes that Eddie can tell are featherlight, mostly just fingertips teasing against his skin. Just enough to make Steve bite down on his lip and his breath hitch in his throat.
“Steve—fuck.” Eddie’s mouth goes dry as he watches Steve touch himself. And he has a few fleeting thoughts.
First is the classic, Am I dreaming? Because surely Steve Harrington is not jerking himself off in Eddie’s living room on a Friday night while they say filthy things to each other under the guise of another dude.
Impossible.
The second comes after Eddie subtly pinches himself and doesn’t wake up. Which is, Is this a joke? Because now that he knows he’s (probably) not asleep, there must be some other horrible explanation for what’s happening. He racks his brain, plays back the events that led him here.
Eddie doesn’t think he could misinterpret everything. But he’s probably done dumber things in his life.
Plausible.
And the third—which is the thought that’s taking up the majority of his consciousness—is, Am I allowed to touch myself, too?
He doesn’t let himself consider this one too long. Because there’s no way in Hell that Eddie would be able to stop himself. Not if a gun was pointed to his head.
So he shoves his hand down the front of his pants and squeezes his cock way more aggressively than Steve.
It’s both not enough and instant satisfaction. Like when you start scratching an itch and it seems to get itchier as your nails dig into your skin, but at the same time it’s doing exactly what you need to soothe the discomfort.
Eddie’s lips part as he grabs his balls and gives them a taut squeeze. His dick basically weeps against his skin. So much precum is pushing from his slit that it’ll be a miracle if there’s any left when he actually comes. Fuck, he hopes this time he can actually come.
His heart is beating so goddamn fast in his chest that there’s a good chance if he stops for a second time this evening, it will give out. He really, really will die.
“Does it feel good?” Steve practically purrs the question.
Eddie nods fervently, but he’s not able to form words. He doesn’t know where to look; Steve’s blown eyes that seem more black than hazel, his hand that’s speeding up under his sweats, the damp patch that’s forming where his cock must be leaking nearly as much as Eddie’s if it has already soaked through the fabric, or the growing expanse of abs on show—flexing in tandem with Steve’s strokes—as his free hand continues to lift the hem of his shirt.
Fuck, Eddie wants to come. Right now. He wants to come right fucking now.
He squeezes the base of his cock, bordering on the verge of pain, to stop his orgasm in its tracks. “So good, Stevie.”
Steve’s head falls back against the couch cushion, his eyes flicking between Eddie’s legs, his mouth, back down again… back up. He’s pumping himself with more intent now, his wrist twisting with each upwards stroke. “I wish it was your lips on me. I just know how good they’d feel. You have perfect dick-sucking lips.”
Eddie attempts stroking his cock again. It zaps into the coil in the pit of his stomach, but if he goes slow he’s sure he can go at least thirty second before he’s on the edge again.
“You have no idea, Steve,” he says, his tongue wetting his lips like he just might fall to his knees and start sucking Steve off for real. “I’d keep them nice and soft like you said you like. The inside of my mouth would be so wet—fuck, I’m salivating just thinking about it. And then I’d seal them around your big cock and hallow my cheeks when you least expect it, and you’d fucking thrust into my throat in surprise—”
Eddie moans, dropping his grip on himself yet again. That time it was really close; he can feel his dick pulsing under his pants. If he were alone, he’d push them down and watch as his cock twitched against his abdomen, angry at the loss of his fingers at the last possible moment.
Across from him, Steve speeds up; his hand moving in quick, short bursts against his tip. He makes his own noise, his eyes rolling back into his skull and then closing altogether.
It takes everything inside Eddie not to grab himself and come inside his pants right then and there. Shit, Steve looks so fucking good. Eddie desperately wants to see more. The colour of Steve’s dick, the way it strains, if it’s curved or straight, if it’s shiny. He wants to see it leak, wants to see Steve’s fingers catch the pearls of precum that are soaking through his pants and rub them into his skin. Wants to see it web between his fingertips—sticky and white. Wants to suck it off of them.
Shit. Fuck. It’s a miracle Eddie isn’t coming untouched. He’s still right there, on the verge of his orgasm. One single, insignificant, breath of a touch would one hundred percent set him off.
Steve’s eyes open. He drops his own dick, wipes his palm against his t-shirt. And he scootches closer to Eddie.
Just the brush of Steve’s thigh against Eddie’s makes him tremble, makes Eddie feel like he’s going to lose any semblance of control that remains.
They’re pressed right against each other. The length of Steve’s leg is warm and strong against Eddie’s, bigger than his. Thicker. Just like the rest of him.
Steve spits in his hand. Eddie watches as it pools in his cupped palm, watches as Steve brings that hand back down to the front of his pants. He stretches the waistband away from his body, and for a split second, Eddie catches a glimpse of his cock. Just the crown, broad and pink like Steve’s lips, right before the elastic snaps back and covers him again.
Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t you dare fucking come, Eddie Munson.
“And then,” Steve says, adding fuel to the fire, “I’m gonna bend you over the arm of this couch. You’ll look so hot, with your back arched and your ass on full display.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Fuck it. Eddie sticks his hand back down his pants, but barely touches himself. Just draws a line up the fat vein on the underside of his cock. He can feel his heartbeat under the pad of his finger.
“I’ll push into you so slowly. You’ll feel so full with my dick in your tight little asshole. And you’ll make those sexy little noises the whole time.”
Eddie makes one of them right as Steve says that—a low, quiet rumble from the back of his throat.
“Yeah, just like that. And then… then I’ll start fucking you. It’ll feel so good, Eddie.” Steve fucks his fist harder, his hips lifting from the couch like he’s chasing his own touch. His hand sounds wet on his cock, slapping and squelching each time it smacks against the base. “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you start crying. That you start screaming. Your scary neighbours will know how good I’m fucking you from the noises they hear coming out of your trailer.”
Eddie wonders if he lets himself come if it’ll be the end of whatever is happening. He knows for a stone-cold fact that he’ll be able to stay hard after the first time. But Steve doesn’t know that. Not yet. Maybe he should tell him.
But for now, Eddie tries to regain some control, some semblance of his quippy, cocky personality, just so he doesn’t come off entirely as a whimpering fool (if it’s not already too late). He tries to smirk. “Bold of you to assume I’m a bottom, Harrington.”
“A bottom?” Steve asks, and Eddie realises that maybe it’s a term that he’s never heard before. Because he’s straight… (question mark?). Again, Steve uses context clues. Smart guy. He presses impossibly closer into Eddie’s side, and asks, “Are you telling me you don’t want to feel my cock inside of you? Don’t want my cum dripping from your asshole for hours after we fuck?”
Eddie’s whole body vibrates. That’s it. The end. He fists his cock and pumps it hard, pulling his foreskin forward enough to cover the head, back to expose it, all underneath the checkered fabric of his pants. “I’m gonna come, Steve. I’m coming.”
His teeth bite painfully into his lower lip as he lets himself tumble from the ledge. Cum surges from his cock hard enough that he knows it would have painted his entire chest if it wasn’t contained inside of his pants. Each wave of his climax makes him whine aloud. It sounds crude, mixed with the slick slap of his hand against his skin.
“Shit,” Steve mumbles, staring as Eddie’s working fist, eyes blown wide like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.
And maybe it shouldn’t, but Eddie’s left hand reaches out with a mind of its own, gripping high on Steve’s thigh. Squeezing it hard enough to leave a bruise, while his right is covered with hot, slick cum.
“Don’t stop,” Eddie babbles, riding out his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Keep going. Keep talking. Don’t stop. I’m not finished yet, I wanna come again. Please. Please.”
“Oh, fuck, Eddie.” Steve brings his own hand down atop where Eddie’s is still sunk into the flesh of his upper leg. For a moment, he thinks Steve is going to pry his fingers away, but instead he laces them with his own.
It’s such a simple thing, holding hands, but it feels intimate. Intentional. Like this isn’t just some game.
Eddie shouldn’t be thinking that. But he is. He is. And it’s the moment he consciously knows he’ll be ruined for anyone else. End game for Eddie Munson. Steve held his hand while they jerked off. He’s in love.
Steve yanks him from his internal monologue. “You can come twice in a row?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, his hand still squeezing between his legs. Each stroke sends a bolt of lightening through his entire body, but his dick barely softens in his hand before it stiffens back up to steel once more. “Usually more than that. Four times if I want, but—but not as much cum comes out as the first.”
“Oh my God,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Can I… Can I see?”
His eyes flicker down to Eddie’s crotch.
“Sure.” Eddie pretends he’s confident as he tugs down his pants, lifting his hips enough to push the fabric under them.
His cock springs free from where it was trapped.
He doesn’t want to be self-conscious of his body, but he can’t help but wonder what Steve sees. If he’s at all disappointed that Eddie’s dick isn’t as big as his. It he thinks it’s weird that he’s uncut or that his dick curves upwards. If he let his pubes grow too long.
But Steve’s eyes go heavy with desire, taking in every inch of Eddie. The way his entire dick is shiny and sticky with his own cum, how it gets stuck in the hair that grows below it. His fingers squeeze around Eddie’s, involuntarily or in encouragement, he doesn’t know. But it makes him feel better.
Eddie is about to ask if Steve would show him more, too.
Steve beats him to it. “Do you want me to—?”
“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”
Steve brings the hem of his shirt to his chin, catching it between his teeth. His whole chest is on display, his olive abs flexing as he pulls down the front of his sweats, tucking the elastic waist under his balls. His hand circles his cock, so thick his fingers barely meet.
And now they’re both just… bare. Basically naked as they jerk off next to each other, hands still intertwined like they’re some sort of couple. Things go quiet for a few moments as they just watch each other. How their hands work against themselves, speeding up, slowing, twitching.
Eddie’s cum gets sticky on his hand, against his cock. When he pulls his fingers away from his body it feels a bit like glue, tacking his hand up so much that it’s hard to slide it over his length.
“Spit on it,” Steve whispers, like he knows exactly what Eddie is thinking.
Eddie nods, bringing his hand up to his mouth—
“Wait.” Steve unlaces his fingers from Eddie’s, grabs his wrist. “Can I?”
“Shit.” Eddie huffs a breath through his nose. “Sure, Harrington.”
Steve lets a long string of saliva fall from his pretty, pink lips. It wets Eddie’s palm, mixing with the cum that covers it, making it slippery instead of sticky. Instead of letting go, though, Steve brings Eddie’s hand down to his own lap.
“Wanna switch?”
And—holy fucking fuck. Eddie trembles with ill-contained delight. He doesn’t even reply, just wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock before he can even think about what’s happening. What it means. That it’s changing the dynamic—they’re getting involved with each other instead of just themselves.
It doesn’t even matter. Not right now.
Steve’s head falls back against the cushions. “Oh God, that’s amazing.”
Eddie slides his fingers up Steve’s shaft—so heavy and hot in his hand—just as Steve described he liked. Soft and gentle. He twists his wrist in the same way Steve touched himself, watches as his lips part and his brows crinkle together, marvels at the vision of Steve’s cockhead surging from his grip, so flushed against the paleness of his hand and the silver of his rings.
He squeezes a bit harder and watches Steve’s hips rut towards him.
“You look so good,” he tells Steve, voice getting lost behind the moans that Steve keeps loosing from his lungs.
“Eddie?” Steve pants, thighs twitching as Eddie dares to circle his thumb around Steve’s slit, gathering more wetness to join the rest.
“Hmm?”
“Were you serious earlier?” Steve asks, barely a whisper. “About wanting to suck me off?”
Eddie’s hand stills on Steve, his eyes shining wide with shock and want. “Yeah? I mean—yeah. Very serious.”
“…Would you?”
Steve doesn’t have to say anything else. Eddie is already sliding onto the floor, already grabbing Steve’s knees and spreading them apart so he can slot himself between them. As soon as he’s bracketed by those strong thighs, they clamp down against his waist. A powerhouse of muscle, locking him to where he kneels.
Eddie is slightly intimidated by Steve’s cock. Will he have to unhinge his jaw like some sort of python to fit it in his mouth?
He leans down and kitten licks the tip, testing how it might feel on his tongue. Steve’s body jolts from that alone, makes a little whimpering noise that makes Eddie’s dick dribble onto the carpet.
“That’s it,” Steve encourages as Eddie’s lips close around the crown of his cock. “That’s perfect. Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening. It’s all I think about.”
Eddie moans, opens his jaw wider, and then sinks forward. Steve’s cock glides against Eddie’s tongue. It tastes like hot, sweaty skin. And cum—whether it’s Eddie’s from his hand, or Steve’s pre, it’s salty and heady and makes Eddie’s mouth even more wet as he salivates.
“Fuuuuck.” Steve’s fingers bury themselves in Eddie’s curls, tugging him closer.
It’s different than his fantasies. Steve doesn’t smell like honey and almond soap, and Eddie’s nose most definitely cannot reach Steve’s pubes, even as the tip of his dick brushes against the back of his throat. But the dark curls at the base are exactly as Eddie pictured. Perfectly trimmed and up-kept, as nicely as the hair on Steve’s head.
Eddie can’t help but pull off Steve to trail his tongue all the way down his shaft. He noses along Steve’s inner thigh, shamelessly burying his face in that thick thatch of chestnut hair. And then he deeply inhales the musky scent of Steve.
Steve groans, shallowly thrusting against Eddie’s cheek, the tip of his cock grazing Eddie’s ear, getting lost in his mane of hair.
A rope of drool connects Steve to Eddie, his tongue lolling from his mouth to rub against the side of Steve’s balls as he drinks in his smell. He dips his chin lower, until Steve’s dick is standing straight up, resting against his forehead.
The noise Steve makes is fucking sinful—completely wanton—as Eddie shoves his nose into Steve’s balls and breathes him in, committing everything to memory. His scent, his taste, his sounds, his face—everything.
Eddie isn’t sure if this will happen ever again. Isn’t sure if it’ll even be acknowledged. So he’s going to enjoy every goddamn minute while he’s so up close and personal with Steve’s cock.
“Ah—Jesus Christ. You are a freak, Munson.” Normally, those words might hurt. But Steve says them with such lust that it can’t possible be construed as anything but a compliment. Eddie wraps his hand back around Steve’s cock and starts pumping him with purpose, sucking his balls into his mouth and rolling them around his tongue. The wet, slurping sounds are totally lewd in the quiet air of the trailer. “Shit. Ohhh—shit. I’m close. I’m about to come.”
Eddie hums in encouragement, keeps his lips sealed around Steve’s balls. His hand flies above his face until he can feel how tight Steve’s balls get, can feel his cock pulsing in his hand.
He pops off, rests Steve’s cockhead onto his tongue, and jerks him off fast and dirty.
“Eddie—Eddie!” Steve’s thighs tense around Eddie’s middle. Cum surges from his slit into the back of Eddie’s throat in thick rivers, coating his tongue and teeth in sticky white release that he happily swallows down.
Fuck, Steve tastes good. Feels good. Sounds even better as he comes with Eddie’s name falling from his lips. Eddie closes his eyes and revels in the moment, lets himself savour the twitch of Steve’s dick as it empties into his mouth, the intrusion as he thrusts into Eddie’s throat, and the threat of himself gagging against it. He keeps swirling his tongue, even as Steve’s cum stops spurting. Even as his noises become high, and his body starts seizing with each flick against his sensitive tip.
Eddie desperately wants to make the moment last forever, doesn’t want to acknowledge that Steve is basically crying from overstimulation above him.
Finally, the fingers in Eddie’s hair tug him away. He whines at the sudden emptiness, wants to lean back in and feel Steve’s cock soften completely inside of his mouth.
Steve’s eyes are still blown and lustful, and strangely soft, as he says, “That was so fucking good.”
He smiles and gives Steve’s knees a squeeze as he leans back, his own shaking under his weight as he hauls himself back up onto the couch. He feels a little weird now that Steve came, because Eddie is still hard. Still wanting. But he also came once himself. Not from Steve’s hands but from his words, and it was enough. Maybe he should just tuck himself away and let this thing end naturally—
Before he can make a decision, Steve is reaching towards Eddie’s lap. “Is this okay?” he asks as he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s cock.
Eddie lets his gaze fall between his legs. His dick gets swallowed up by Steve’s big hands. He likes the way it looks so red as it peeks out from his fist.
“Is that a real question?” Eddie’s hands flounder in the air before they land on the couch cushions and bury themselves there, his nails digging into the upholstery as Steve starts fucking him with his hand.
“I knew you’d be good,” Steve says lowly. “Knew your hands and your lips would feel incredible. I can’t believe how hard you made me come. I wanna make you come like that.”
Eddie’s jaw swings open and his eyebrows knit together, and he thinks to himself that it’s not going to take long at all for Steve to get what he wants.
Steve leans forward, and for a second Eddie thinks he’s going to put his mouth on him, but he just lets a string of spit fall onto the tip of Eddie’s cock and gathers it with his hand, spreading it along his skin that moves in tandem with his strokes. It’s almost as good.
“Oh, Jesus—Steve.” Eddie sucks in a breath as Steve’s fingers tighten, forcing a bead of precum from his slit. “I’m gonna come again. Keep doing that. Keep—keep doing that!”
Steve nods, watching as he works Eddie back to the edge. Watching as he expertly rubs his thumb against the spot that makes Eddie see stars.
His second orgasm is stronger than his first. Eddie’s vision blurs out of focus—probably because his eyes are crossing—and the noise he makes sounds like an animal getting fucking murdered. The muscles in his torso tighten and tense and shudder as Steve enthusiastically jerks his dick, cum gathering in his fist, eyes watching with rapt attention.
Eddie’s body goes limp as Steve slowly lets go of him. When he’s able to focus his eyes, he notices that Steve is looking at his hand in fascination, watching Eddie’s cum stretch between his fingers as he scissors them.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever done that,” he says, bringing his wet hand up to his face. Steve smells his fingers, and then decides to bring them to his spit-slicked lips. One of his fingers pop into his mouth, and he hums around it, as if he’s actually enjoying the taste of Eddie’s release.
Yep. Eddie could definitely, without a doubt, go a third round.
But before his dick does something stupid like get stiff again, he tucks himself away. “And? What did you think?”
Steve pulls his finger from his mouth, grabbing an old napkin from the coffee table to wipe the rest of Eddie’s spend from them. “I think I was wrong.”
Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest, waiting for Steve to start berating him or something for making him do something gay. Even though he’s pretty sure he wasn’t the one who initiated it.
But Steve just smiles and cocks his head to one side. “You definitely aren’t bad at dirty talk.”
A sigh of relief heaves from Eddie’s chest. He smacks Steve’s shoulder, but he smiles right along. “You’re a prick.”
As he stands to grab a towel from the bathroom, Steve calls behind him, “You seemed to like my prick.”
Eddie blushes ferociously. He catches his expression in the mirror and tries to wipe it away, but it’s impossible. He’s just bound to look like a totally fucked-out dipshit for the rest of his life, he guesses. As soon as the water runs warm, Eddie washes his hands and wets two towels. He cleans off his dick and his sticky thighs, and brings the second one to the gorgeous man who’s back to lounging on his living room couch.
“Did you?” Steve asks, taking the towel to better clean his fingers. When he shoves it down the front of his pants, Eddie adverts his eyes.
“Did I what?”
“Enjoy it?”
“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “Yes, Steve, I enjoyed it. Fuck.”
“Good.”
Eddie sits next to Steve and tries not to let himself feel awkward. “Yeah. Good.”
“Want to watch Labyrinth now?” Steve casually digs into the bag he brought, grabs the VHS and wiggles it in front of Eddie’s face.
“Absolutely,” says Eddie.
They pop in the tape, and the TV screen glows blue before it starts playing through the ads. Steve sits next to Eddie, their thighs pressed up against each other, just like they had been before.
Steve reaches over and laces his fingers with Eddie’s. They stay like that for the whole movie.
_____
It’s been three days since Steve left. Since Eddie has even heard from him. Keith makes sure they don’t have many shifts together at Family Video (because they never got any work done), so it’s not uncommon that they go this long. But Eddie’s anxiety makes it feel like it’s the end of the fucking world.
God forbid he reach out to Steve himself.
But by the end of the third night, he gets a phone call.
“Hello?” he answers.
“Hey, man.” Steve is on the other line, sounding chipper and unphased.
Maybe Eddie was overthinking it.
“Oh, hey!” he says, a little bit too enthusiastically. He dials it back a bit, clears his throat. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Just got off work. I have the afternoon off.”
“Sweet.” Eddie nervously twirls the chords between his fingers. Time to be brave. “Do you—maybe—want to hang out then?”
“Yeah. That’s why I called, actually. I stole Psycho III from Family Video. Want me to bring it over?”
Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief. Things aren’t changing. Steve won’t estrange himself after what happened, because he’s a good person. Eddie doesn’t even know why he was worried in the first place.
“Sounds perfect.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah, cool.”
A few ticks go by, and then Steve quietly asks, “Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m just wondering…”
Eddie waits, the suspense nearly killing him. “Wondering what, Steve?”
“…What are you wearing?”
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