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#it would be nice for them to know before they looked up the lyrics
citrusandcyanide · 3 days
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The First Time | L.G
Pairing: Lip Gallagher x f! Reader
Synopsis. Based on The First Time by Hozier. Lip and His best friend have a complicated relationship and struggle to define their feelings for eachother.
an. omg I have literally been writing this for months. I started this when the album came out but kept changing how I wanted it to go. I hope you like it :)
words. 5.6k
Warnings. I do not own Hoziers lyrics or any writes to the song. Smoking, Drinking, mentions of intimacy.
Song link. The First time by Hozier
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And the first time that you kissed me
I drank dry the River Lethe
The Liffey would have been softer on my stomach all the same
You blamed it on the weed. 
It was a cold foggy night when Lip called you to smoke with him. The sun had set hours before. You were walking home from a date with a guy from class. It had not gone well and you wouldn’t be going out with him again. You texted Lip after you left to update him on how it went. After he realized you were going to want to complain, he invited you to hang out under the L. 
It was not like you were completely disinterested in the guy, but it wouldn’t be fair to say you didn’t go out of boredom. He seemed a lot more interested in you than you were of him. It wasn’t a bad thing, but it just wasn’t what you wanted. 
Lip sat in the grass under the train platform, cigarette already in hand. Once you reached him, you took the cigarette from his lips and placed them between yours. You sat down as you inhaled. 
“That bad?” Lip asked, fidgeting with his lighter. You shrugged, shaking your head as you took the cigarette away from your mouth. Handing it back to him, you exhaled. 
“No. The opposite I guess,” you replied, placing your hands in your pocket to protect you from the cold. Lip noticed and scooted closer to you. He took the last hit before putting it out. He pulled a pack of rolling papers out of his pocket along with a grinder. He started rolling, signaling you to continue talking. “He was too nice. Just a gentleman you know?” 
“What’s the problem then?” Lip chuckled in response, still prepping the joint. 
“I just can’t understand how interested he was. Like he was really trying, asking me about my interests, paid for my meal, even offered to walk me home. But I couldn’t make myself interested. I felt really bad. I was wasting his time.” 
You were expecting him to crack jokes, but he shook his head. You looked at him curiously as he lit the joint. Lip hands you the joint before replying. 
“This is, uh, gonna sound blunt, but… I think it sounds like a pretty good date and I’m confused about why you’re upset.” You started laughing and took the joint from him. “You’ve been on much worse dates with guys you were interested in. Are you sure there wasn’t anything bad?”
“Well..” You thought for a moment. The very ending of the date replaying in your head. “He uh… was a very sloppy kisser.” 
Lip let out a cough, choking on the smoke in surprise. He turned to you. “After all this talk of not being interested, you still kissed him?” 
You shrugged in response, “I had no reason not to kiss him. He was very nice, just… thought maybe it would make me more inclined to like him. Didn’t fucking work though. God, it was so bad.” You put your head in your hands. 
The joint continued to pass between the two of you. The cold was pushing you closer together. Eventually, your arms had been looped together, and shoulders were tightly pressed up against each other. The heat from the smoke and each other being your sole sources of heat. You told Lip of all the gross details. Eventually, it leads to bringing up all your failed dates. Lip followed along, bringing up details about each one that you had forgotten. Your head fell onto his shoulder. 
“I don’t get why I’m so unlucky,” You sighed, taking a final drag from the joint. Lip scoffed. 
“You’re not unlucky. No one deserves you,” Lip replied. He took the roach from you and put it out on the pavement between you. There was a moment of silence. You could feel his breathing slow down, signaling to you he was getting ready to speak. “So the kiss was the only thing that ruined the night?” 
You didn’t look up at him, but nodded in agreement. He turned his head downward to look at you. 
“Could I fix that?” 
You took your head off his shoulder, eyes furrowed in confusion. “How would you fix it?”
“I could give you a better one.” 
You don’t remember when you said yes. All you can remember was how soft his lips were on yours. His hand on your cheek sent flames through your skin. 
There would be no reason for your best friend to ask to kiss you if it wasn’t because he was high. There would be no way you would agree with it unless YOU were high. Lip kissed you and the world you knew shattered. The cuddling and holding hands were normal. But with one simple question, the foundation of your friendship had changed. It was the best kiss you had ever had, but it didn’t fix anything like he intended. 
He pulled away, keeping his hand on your cheek. A whole new man was in front of you. His blue eyes pierced into his soul. He was beautiful. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before but right now it was overwhelming. 
“Is that better, baby?” Lip asked, his voice barely above a whisper. All you could do was stare back at him in awe and shock. Something took over you. All you wanted was to feel his lips again. You wanted everything. You wanted him. 
And then he laughed quietly. It broke you out of your trance. You turned your head to your feet and shook your head. It was the weed. It had to be. The warmth from his touch vanished and replaced itself with cold. It pierced through your skin. You winced at his laugh. He was smiling, the type you never see when he’s sober. 
Some part of me must have died
The first time you called me baby
You wanted to throw up. 
You wanted to drink yourself until you forgot the feeling of his lips against yours. It was all you thought about. For a while all you did was drink, but no matter how much you did, nothing erased the feelings you had developed for your best friend. Lip didn’t make it any easier. He hadn’t brought the kiss up again, but his demeanor around you changed. He’d grab your hand more while you were walking. Or he’d have his arm over your shoulders on public transport. 
Worse, and what made it hardest to forget, was the new nickname: Baby. It killed you and brought you to life again. You couldn’t help but melt when he said it. Baby. Something so simple. Nothing you would ever think you would like to be called, but from his mouth it was soft and sweet. 
Lip never said it often enough for you to get used to. It was only ever heard when he was high or tipsy. Most nights it was over the phone when he was calling you to come over. 
“I’m having a bad day, baby. Please come over.” 
You always would. You knew it wasn’t good. Most of the time, he’d need physical comfort. Lip would fall asleep in your lap or on your chest. He’d go out of his way to make sure your hands were touching. He didn’t kiss you again, but he thought about it. It was like he was holding back from it. This was probably because when he’d call you over it was almost always about another girl. Lip could acknowledge that he needed comfort but didn’t want to play with your feelings to that level. He didn’t realize the game had already begun. 
Everytime you were over you were falling deeper for Lip. You craved his touch. You craved being close to him. You craved him. You were addicted to the calls. Nights where he didn’t call, all you thought about was being around him. 
This life lived mostly underground
Unknowing either sight nor sound
'Til reaching up for sunlight
Just to be ripped out by the stem
He didn’t kiss you again till college. You were far too gone when it happened. If someone asked the number of drinks shared between the two of you that night, neither of you would have an answer. You drank with the intention of going to a frat party, but neither of you made it there. You tend to be a happy drunk when you’re not wallowing in self pity. Other than the intense feelings you had towards your best friend, you had nothing that night to be sad about. Lip didn’t either. Being around you when you were happy drunk always lifted his mood while drinking too. Having stolen a few unopened bottles from the last party you attended, you didn’t wait to start pouring. 
“I wanna dance,” You said suddenly standing up from Lip’s bed. You put your phone on the table and played the first song you saw. Lip stayed on his bed, sipping slowly at the cup in his hand. He smiled up at you. “Come dance with me.” 
“No no. Trust I’m good right here,” He laughed, shaking his head. You took the cup out of his hand and put it on the table next to yours. Grabbing his hands, you pulled him up and wrapped your arms around his waist. You started swaying side to side, until he surrendered and started moving with you. “I can’t dance.” 
“You dance with plenty of girls at parties,” Your reply was snarky. “So dance with me.” Lip shut up and started leading the two of you as you danced around the room. You let the music take over. The alcohol made the two of you a lot more confident with each other. Lips hands slid around your waist and pulled you close to him. You smiled brightly, happy that he was going along with your request. 
Everytime the music would lead you to drift away from him, Lip would pull you infinitely closer. He wrapped his arm around your waist tightly, trapping you in his grasp. Your breathing stopped once you felt his chest on yours. His face was inches away from yours. You couldn’t hear the music anymore. Lip was the only thing in front of you. His eyes were staring deep into yours, yearning. You had never seen him look at you with such need. 
“Stop trying to run from me, baby” Lip never broke eye contact with you. Seeing blush starting to take over your cheeks, his grip tightened around you. Then his Lips were on yours. They were much drier than they had been when he first kissed you years ago. Yet they were so much sweeter. You couldn’t get enough. You stopped dancing and held him closer. His lips migrated down away from yours, sucking softly on your skin. 
After that night it became more frequent. You slept in his bed almost every night. Craving each other's touch even without alcohol. Everything about it made you feel like you were growing towards a relationship. Lip was soft with you. It didn’t feel like a hookup. You kept convincing yourself if it was, it would have happened years ago. The first kiss would have been more than that. You were comfortable with the silence and the intimacy that was kept in each other's rooms, until one night Lip decided to talk about it. 
“Why do you let me do this?” He hovered above you as you were laying on his bed. He had broken the kiss to ask you the question. Your body stiffened, letting your arms fall from around his shoulders. You weren’t expecting him to ever ask the question. You thought it was obvious that you liked him and you liked being close to him. But the thought of saying it scared the shit out of you. This wasn’t a conversation to be having while sober. Especially with how this started.
“I don’t know..” is all you could say, choking a bit on your words. Lip was looking so intensely at you. “Do you not like it?” 
He shifted to lay down next to you. “I feel like I shouldn’t.” 
“Oh,” you shifted awkwardly. You blushed with embarrassment. You were so confused as to what he was thinking, but you knew you weren’t going to get any answers from him unless you answered his question. “Well, I like this.” 
He stayed silent for a moment, as if he was deep in thought. “You don’t go out with other guys anymore. I’ve noticed it. You don’t talk about anyone when we see each other. I know you have other friends that you could spend time with, but you’re always coming here instead. I don’t think I’m good for you, Y/n. I’m taking you away from other people. If you like me at all, I don’t think we should do this anymore.” 
You hated how well he knew you. He was able to read you like an open book. You knew that if you admitted it, he would stop allowing himself to be this close to you. It’d go back to how it was before the kiss, before he called you baby. 
“It’s not like that. I just like the feeling, that’s all. Don’t worry about my feelings. You’re my best friend. That’s it.” 
Sensing only now it's dying
Drying out then drowning blindly
Blooming forth its every color
In the moments it has left
Amanda came out of nowhere. Suddenly she was taking up all of Lip’s time. Lip had always liked girls that were direct at communicating their wants. And Amanda sure was organized. Not to mention she was rich. 
Despite your agreement with Lip, your feelings didn’t stop growing. You honestly didn’t try to stop loving him. It was so easy to pretend he was yours. He still held your hand in public, brought you snacks in between classes, and fucked you softly before bed. Everything about it felt like love. Unspoken but still there. Maybe it was a weird way that Lip showed his affection to you, even if it was just platonic. You didn’t need it to be anything more than that. You were happy how it was. Even if it meant sharing him with a few one night stands every once in a while. He never called anyone ‘baby’ but you. 
But Amanda meant something different. She had more to offer Lip than you. She was better at school than you and was able to help Lip manage his work even with all the shit going on at home. You tried to help with what you could, but heck she was just better than you with everything. Lip needed the guidance, but it hurt seeing her take him from you. 
When he started calling her his girlfriend, you stayed in bed for a week. You told Lip you were sick and didn't want him visiting you. You shouldn’t have let it affect you as much as it did. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He made it very clear he didn’t want to be, but you were so angry. You just wanted to be alone. For the first few days after he told you, he hadn’t reached out to hang out. In all the years you knew him, there was never more than a day you’d go without seeing each other. It was part of your routine. It’s like he completely forgot you existed. That was what hurt the most, the feeling of being easily replaced. You didn’t reach out to him to see how long it would take for him to notice your absence. On the fourth day he texted you about a question on an assignment. Before you could stop yourself, you texted him back “Fuck you.” It didn’t take long for him to reply. 
Lip: ???????
What the fuck did I do?
He showed up to your door the next day with a slice of dining hall cake. You tried slamming the door on his face but he was too quick to catch it. You returned back to your bed as he entered your room. He stood above your bed silently, staring at you inquisitively. After a few moments he sighed, set the piece of cake on your desk and sat down on the bed next to you. 
“You’re not really sick are you?” He asked quietly. You didn’t reply, causing him to roll his eyes. He asked you to move over so he could lay down next to you. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?” 
“Now you want to talk to me? It’s kind of you to remember your best friend exists.” It all came out a little too harsh, but Lip didn't seem to mind. You turned towards the wall so you didn’t have to face him. He put his arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest. You missed the comfort he brought you, but it didn’t stop you from being angry. Nonetheless you couldn’t bring yourself to move. 
“I never forgot you existed. Why’d you say something like that?” He chuckled slightly. When you didn’t reply, he asked again. “Is this about Amanda?”
“You haven’t talked to me at all,” your voice cracked when you said it. “She’s helping you, I know.. But I’d still appreciate a hello at least.” 
Lip held you closer. “I’m sorry, her schedule is a little intense to get used to. She hasn’t been allowing me any freetime. I told her I needed a bathroom break just to be able to come visit you.” 
“Sounds like abuse,” you mumbled under your breath. Lip laughed softly. He kissed your shoulder. You didn’t know if you should have flinched or relaxed. 
“It’s no excuse to not reach out sooner. I’m sorry.” Lip was trying so hard to get you to loosen up and look at him. He was surprised you hadn’t thrown him off of you by now. His least favorite thing was to see you upset. Your eyes were glued to the wall. “She’s watching Liam right now. I can text her and say I’m staying the night. You can catch me up on everything I missed since I last saw you.” 
“You shouldn’t kiss me,” you told him, voice stern. 
“What?” he asked, confused. 
“You have a girlfriend, you shouldn’t kiss me. That includes the shoulder,” You clarified, also moving your body away from him. You felt him flinch a little. He shifted to holding himself up by one of his arms. You could feel him staring down at you. You had never shifted away from him. He scoffed, sitting up on the bed. 
“What? So you’re jealous?” He had the same tone in his voice he gets when he’s irritated. You rolled your eyes. 
“I don’t know Lip, maybe since you finally committed to being a fucking boyfriend for once you should commit to the full act,” you spat finally looking at him. It gave him the chance to see how tired you were. There were dark circles under your eyes, making the crying you had done over the past few days more evident. You looked so hurt and fragile. Lip wasn’t stupid, but he felt like he had not seen it before. He couldn't be angry seeing you like this. 
He put a hand on your cheek. “You lied to me, didn’t you?” 
You avoided his eyes and scoffed. You knew he was talking about how you swore you didn’t have feelings for him. 
“Y/n, talk to me,” he said, forcing you to look back at him. 
“What the fuck do you want me to say, Lip?” You spat back at him, shoving his hand away from your face. “That I’m secretly in love with you and feel like a piece of garbage you just threw out. Fuck you, Gallagher. I don’t expect you to be my knight in shiny-fucking-armor, but I expect you to be my best friend. You can’t fuck me one night, tell me you have a girlfriend, and crawl back into my bed the next. I don’t know what you see in Amanda and her stupid hello kitty backpack, but what I can’t figure out is what made her look like a better option than me.” 
“She’s not a better option,” Lip argued back immediately. 
“Yeah, then why am I not your girlfriend? What about me makes you think I’d be better off just as a fuck buddy. You’ve been screwing me long enough for me to get the hint. You’ve made it so insanely clear.” 
“See this is exactly why I asked if you liked me, so we wouldn’t end up in this fucking mess.” 
“What would have changed? Honestly, what do you think would happen? You’d stop playing with my feelings, avoid me for months, and let me just sit with the heartbreak of being rejected by a friend who has been acting like my boyfriend for years. While you wait it out until I’m over it so you can come back again? I get you don’t like me, but you really think I was gonna let you add salt to the wound?” 
“Who the fuck said I didn’t like you?” Lip’s voice was irritated but it remained soft and quiet. You looked at him confused, laughing at what he was suggesting. 
“You’re something, Philip Gallagher. Really something,” You scoffed, standing up from the bed. Lip grabbed your hand, pulling you back down. He pushed his lips to your mouth roughly. You let yourself slip into the kiss for a second before pushing him away by his chest. “You’re a prick.” 
“I love you, jesus fucking christ baby,” Lip rolled his eyes. He held his hands firm on each side of your head, keeping you close to his. “Will you just.. shut up for a second? Please.” 
You stared at him silently, tears collecting in your eyes. Lip let out a sigh and kissed your forehead. He knew it was his fault that you were so upset. He never wanted to hurt you this much. He never expected you to fall for him this hard. It was all his mistake. Lip had loved you from the moment he met you, but he was always afraid of his feelings. He didn’t have a healthy relationship with love. Putting you through his shit was never something Lip wanted to put on you. You deserved better. You deserved to go on nice dates, be spoiled with gifts and beautiful words. Lip didn’t know how to give you that. He convinced himself that it was better off to stay friends. It was easier to keep you around as his best friend. He got to see you every day. You talked to him the most out of everyone in your life. He saw your best and worst moments from closer than anyone.  He could admire how beautiful you were without ever worrying about it having to end. 
He could ignore the first kiss but he knew he fucked it all up when you hooked up the first time. It was no longer just adoration. It was selfish of him to put you through this thinking it wouldn’t affect you. His heart was heavy hearing you tell him you loved him. He had always wished to hear you say it, but not now. Not like this. He hated seeing you think that he only wanted to fuck. 
“There is no one else in this world I love more than you,” Lip’s voice was barely above a whisper. His bright blue eyes pierced into yours. He also looked on the verge of tears. You broke eye contact and opened your mouth to talk. Lip shook his head and quickly kissed you to shut you up. “I’m the biggest idiot for letting you think anything different. And I’m sorry. I couldn’t imagine a girl as brilliant as you wanting to be with a prick like me, but I never ever thought you weren’t good enough to be my girlfriend.” 
“What about Amanda, Lip?” 
“She’s paying me a fuck ton of money to say we’re dating so she can piss off her parents,” Lip answered plainly. You looked at him slightly shocked. You couldn’t help but start laughing. Lip laughed with you. “Like soooo much money.” 
“Baby,” Lip said while he grabbed one of your hands in his. You had stopped laughing by now. This was the most honest he had ever been with his feelings. You could tell he was slightly embarrassed by the red of his cheeks. You laced your fingers in his and listened quietly as he spoke. “I never asked you to be my girlfriend because I don't think I’d be a good enough boyfriend to you. I thought it would be better just as we were. I show my affection better in other ways.” 
“It just sucks to see another girl so easily come and take your attention,” You said with a scoff. You studied his hand in yours. Lip was quiet, watching you play with his hand. “I’m comfortable with what we are. But don’t go to someone else and forget I exist. That’s all I ask.” 
“I don’t ever want to hurt you,” Lip said quietly. 
“Then don’t,” Your reply came out as more of a warning. You kissed his cheek.
To share the space with simple living things
Infinitely suffering
But fighting off like all creation
The absence of itself
Anyways…
For years, you sat on the sidelines. Lip tried his best to stick to his promise, but as time went by tension slowly grew. After things ended with Amanda, a part of you hoped he’d turn back and give you a chance. That hope remained through every girl he saw afterwards, but it never happened. You waited for years for the day he would ask you to be his. He loved you, after all. That’s what he told you. It wasn’t unrealistic to hope that one day he’d want to be with you. 
The longer it went on, the more it began hurting you. It was getting harder to watch him grow further from you. Yet you were being dragged right along, forced to watch as he drifted away. You couldn’t escape it. Lip had been waiting for the day he felt like he deserved you, but that also never came. His alcoholism pushed him further into self-pity. You were always there to take care of him. Always extended your arms when he needed to be held. The lack of control made him angry and was ultimately what pushed himself away from you. It destroyed any vision of himself that was good enough to take care of you. So he never tried. He found other women for romantic comfort. 
The two of you kept each other around for as long as possible as it was inevitably tearing you apart. Neither of you had stopped loving each other, but it hadn’t been like it was in college. Reality was setting in. The romance was turning old. Both of you were impatient with each other. Lip didn’t play around with your feelings when he entered into a relationship. He didn’t sleep with you and he would never kiss you. You hoped it was out of respect for you, but you assumed it was to not complicate the new relationship. Neither of you wanted to cheat. 
While recovering from his alcoholism, he met Tammy. This was different from any of his other relationships. It wasn’t hard to tell Lip was learning to love her. You recognized all the signs, how careful he was with her. It was like watching your relationship from afar all over again. You could tell he was scared, but what hurt the most was seeing the effort he put into being better for her. He had told you years ago that he couldn’t treat you well, but Tammy was being offered it all. 
The last time it was heard out loud
The perfect genius of our hands and mouths were shocked
To resignation as the arguing declined
When I was young I used to guess there are limits to any emptiness? 
When was the last time? Come here to me.. When was the last time? 
You were the first person he  shared the news of Tammy’s pregnancy. The heartbreak was worse than what you were preparing for. You listened for what felt like eternity as he told you they were keeping it, that he was planning to raise the child with her. You knew this meant it was over. There would never be anything more than what you had. You were never meant to be his and he was never going to be yours. You couldn’t keep pretending. 
You just stared at him. You didn’t know what to say. Congrats? Fuck you? What hurt the most was how excited he had seemed to tell you the news. You knew how much he wanted to be a father. You were right there with him when he found out Karen’s kid wasn't his. You were standing in front of him as he sat on the steps of his family's house. He was smoking a cigarette. You had never seen him so calm and happy. You wanted to punch him. 
“What? You’re not saying anything,” Lip chuckled, looking at you confused. You hadn’t felt so broken before. It was like he was forgetting who he was talking to. To you, this conversation was an end to your friendship with Lip Gallagher, but he didn’t realize that. He was just sharing the good news.  “Not even congrats?” 
“I don’t think we should see eachother anymore,” You responded, never breaking eye contact with the boy. Lips face dropped. He felt his heart fall into his stomach. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You had been fine with how things were. Lip had thought he kept his promise. He never stopped making time for you. You were his best friend and always the first he shared good news with. He thought this would be the same. But in his excitement, he failed to consider how you’d feel hearing the news. He couldn’t read your expression. You looked so tired. If you were holding back tears, Lip couldn't see. 
Lip stood up and walked closer to you. He went to grab your hand, but you put one up to his chest, preventing him from moving any closer. 
“I have spent far too long waiting for something that was never going to happen,” You watched him as his expression changed from confusion, fear, then realization. “I’m done waiting for you to decide when you're ready to love me.” 
“I have been loving you,” Lip said defensively. He always feared this moment, the one where you had enough and walked away. He couldn’t lose you now. “What fucking happened? We talked about this, I thought we were good.” 
“I have watched you get closer to love with countless other women than you have ever gotten with me. I will not watch you raise another woman’s child happily and pretend like you love me,” you said,  shaking your head. 
“You’re just gonna leave? That's it? We’ve been friends for our entire fucking lives and suddenly I get a chance to be happy and build something for myself, and you want to leave,” Lip didn’t know what he was accusing you of, but he thought you were over the relationship years ago. You stayed around because you were his friend, not because you wanted to be with him. 
“YOU ARE HAVING ANOTHER WOMAN’S CHILD,” You screamed. “And you think I’m going to believe you when you say you love me? This isn’t some shit I can be with you for. You have responsibilities to her and your child now. You expect me to play aunt and raise the child with you?  And watch you live my fucking dream out with someone else? I know you love her. Just fucking admit it, you love her more than you ever loved me. I can’t watch this. I can’t be on the sidelines  after insisting you could never give it to me.” 
“I love her,” Lip stated. You went silent. You felt your shoulders grow heavy. You sat down on the steps of his porch. Your head fell into your hands. “You’re right. I love her and I’m going to love this kid. It’s not fair to expect you to stick around for it. I’m sorry.” 
There was a moment of silence. Relief sank in. You could let go now. He was never going to be yours and knowing that felt good. The heartbreak you were feeling now would settle. It was over. Lip sat down on the step beside you. You looked across the street. 
“You know, for years, I’d ask myself if this was ever gonna end? There were moments I really wished it would, but I couldn’t decide if life felt emptier without you or with you,” You said quietly. You could feel Lip’s heavy breathing beside you. 
“You were so much better than I could ever take care of, Baby. I couldn’t give you what you deserved.” It sounded like an apology coming from his mouth. Hearing him say it brought tears to your eyes. It was the last time you’d ever hear him say it. 
You turned to him and smiled. “Baby… You never even tried.” 
Some part of me must have died 
The final time you called me baby
But some part of me came alive
The final time you called me baby
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sea-of-dust · 6 months
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You gotta be kidding...
5wirl x GN! Reader
Summary: They make a reference to something personal between you two while performing live. Almost putting a spotlight on you.
Notes: Modern AU, mention of irl video game and band: Remmber Sports (they're good recommend Tiny Planets),
Warnings: suggestive humor, swearing, never expect proof reading
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He met you before he was an idol. High school to be exact. You two were in the same music class bonding over how much you dreaded your music teacher. "He sounds like a divorced mom.." "isn't he married?" "Exactly" you flop onto your desk
You two have been in almost every class together years afterward, just so you didn't have to work with a stranger for group projects. People would would find you two around school alot and walking home together. "And they were roommates," one of your classmates giggle as you two casually hold hands while speaking to eatchother, in reality, you both didn't notice
He was always so calm but also somehow could smell your problems?!? "Ughhhh" "Lemme guess they chewed gum loudly again?" You spring up placing your head back down. "Stop knowing based off my grunts!" "And you're mad at me for not noticing something earlier" "HA!-" "nm it's because I didn't let you sleep in" "...I genuinely despise you"
He started catching feelings midway through your first semester of the new school year. You did notice he sometimes hugged you tighter, looked at you a little longer, he even got small trinkets for you, noticing how fond he looked when you casually wore them.
It was by the end of the year he had told you he got a scouted as an idol, it took alot for him to tell you but it worked thank god you didn't ditch him like he thought.
"So uh..." "?" "I got scouted" your eyes widen, he thought all his fears came to life before you hugged him tightly and squealed. "I TOLD YOU YOU HAD A NICE VOICE!!" "You didn't have to yell" "Shut up you cry over stuff like this!" Now you were the one that oddly knew things about him...you were right...he did cry...alot like the whole group knew the next day.
The group try to hype him up into asking you out. "DUDEEEE COME ON THEYRE NOT GOING ANYWHERE" "I can ask to hangout" he mutters holding his phone in his hand "COME ONNN" venti and heizou sync up kazuha speaking up "ask them to go for dinner" his cheeks turn pink almost instantly "UH MAYBE NOT COME ON- WHAT IF-" "and sent" "WHEN DID YOU TAKE MY PHONE?!" "You'll live" Xiao rolls his eyes as aether bickers with him, his phone noti goes off. "Sure what time?" There's a silence in the room as Xiao gives him the phone. "At 4?" "bet ☆" you and those star emojis how are you like this. "ITS A DATE!!" "YEAAAAAAA" they sounded like a frat house.
He gets all giddy on that date and when you two finally go on one you finally hit the maybe were dating phase but you both don't wanna admit it to eatchother. So the rest of 5wirl planned something for you two. "Alr we know he likes them nowww...." "we...." "Why don't we perform for them" "on their friend ani?" "How do you know that..." they turn to heizou "because he saved it on his calander" "..." and so they planned out your ani for you two.
And so their evil plans acted out perfectly, you two went out on another date and later that day you dropped him off at the concert. What you didn't expect was heizou dragging you to a seat. "Stay right here and don't move alright" you watched them get on stage aether seeming to be looking for you, they get to performing when one of the lyrics hit you. "Hey why don't you meet me at four?" An almost slured pronunciation followed by aether finally finding you. His eyes so tender yet teasing. You felt your heart skip a beat a small wink only making you more bashful.
To think the performance would end there nope. As you tried to get off your seat aether greets you with a cheeky smile a small ring in his hand. You turn around quickly. "I guess I flustered you more than he ever will" he leans on you wrapping his arms casually around your waist while you continues to fluster you. "He was just a small crush..." "enough to have you gush for 4 months about it" he laughs softly kissing you cheek. "When did you even gain this much confidence" "small words of advice" your mind immediately goes to Heizou. "Alrighty then..." without a warning you pull your face closer forcing him to slouch over you. "Did heizou tell you what to do incase of this situation aswell?" Thank god that concert hall was almost empty and the seat you were at made it almost impossible to see you two because the next thing you see and hear are a bunch of idiots going YEAAAAAAAAAAA. Aether x y/n shirts and a poster held up by Xiao. They ship it.
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You made cute accessories! He's seen your work on social media and reached out. "You're accessories are so cute do you have a store?" "Nah I only sell locally near my college" turns out you both went to the same college he's never did a double check so fast in his life. As soon as he saw you he cupped one of your hands, his eyes sparkling in pure joy. "GIMMIE EVERYTHING IN STOCK!" "HUH?!"
Number one fan he's following you around. He'd be your personal advertisement always wearing your stuff and flexing it to others. He WILL be the most annoying person on campus
When you tell him to stop he just kinda tilts his head until he realizes what your saying as if he finally loaded. "Oh! Alright!" That's when you make an almost massive mistake "I did enjoy your support tho but youre-" "SO YOU LIKE HAVING A FAN?!" And so began the simping. He's all over you. Every class your with him? He's leaning into you, whispering random stuff in your ear. Your eyebags got darker everytime he did this but he was more chill than your online fans.
The days you also leaned into him are the days you've never seen someone more flustered. "Hm?" You lift up your head watching him cover his face quickly. "Venti?" He turns away from you even more. "Don't look at me! Where did you even learn that-" "I mean you do that to me all the time" "don't say it outloud-" "did you just whimper?" He stops suddenly using is braids to cover his face as he mumbles to himself. You bring that up to traumatize him
He had to get used to you showing affection, you weren't even dating yet! Come on, don't do this! Even a small smile he'd tease you for it but he'd definitely scream into his pillow about it.
He only asked you out when you made your feeling for him known. A small note under his door telling asking him to meet up at an amusement park later that weekend was where it clicked he looked and sounded like a little girl you could hear his "YEAAAAAAAA" from your room.
He's doing everything he's on a call with the others he just needs them to hear his my story animated from start to finish. "Can you not play that effen punk music main stream shit can barely hear you" "Shut the fuck up hot topic this is important!" "This is why you fucked up your eyeliner" "I DID?!?!" He checked in his mirror realizing he didn't and mostly argued with Xiao. "If they ditch you you deserve it" "quit being a downer! Good luck Venti!" They all mostly wave at the camera before hanging up leaving you and him alone for the evening
He loved it. He was like a child pointing at things he wanted. "Do you have the money?" He looks away pounting "not an actual question I'll play for it" his eyes widen almost sparkling. You two left flexing your carnival game knowledge and venti covered in plush prizes you won for him.
As payback for the newfound plush army, he invited you to a concert. "Oh so you did have money" "Shut up" "hehe" your teasingly small laugh is so cute stop doing that. What you didn't know is that he strapped some keychains you made on his belt, and he NEVER STOPPED WINKING, if you had to drink everytime he found you in the audience and winked you'd have five drinks...per song. It was cute seeing him smirk whenever you slightly blushed at him.
"Y/n!!" He smiles as you wait for him outside the concert hall. "Lets go to another amusement park!" He giggles embracing you "right now?" "Yea!" He nuzzles his face into your chest "sure..when you take off all of those keychains Jesus how much did you-" "200 bucks" "...VENTI" "THEYRE CUTE I KNOW YOU EYED THEM!" You blush slightly smirking "I did...they look adorable on you" you struck him right in the heart leaving both of you flustered. "The amusement parks a few blocks away" "LETS GO!" as if it never happened you both headed to the amusement park.
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You beat him at a rhythm game he liked. You got first in a video game event he liked since then him he's declared you his rival. "Who the hell is this guy getting in the way of the number one spot" he grits his teeth checking your profile. "347 full combed songs...300 all perfects...and maxed out cards" he rolls his eyes
He wanted to let off some steam at an arcade only to find out he got beat in that game also! With the same name tag as the rythum game champ. He nearly smashes the machine when he notices you step up to it. "Shame, this games kinda better when I'm kicking someone's ass..." You sigh only now, noticing him, smirking at this chance you take it. "You mind playing this with me?" You perk up. Thinking this is a good way to let off steam, he accepts. "I won't go easy." "Alright!" You let him pick the song and almost immediately grab the handbar
Strange, he thinks he doesn't need it. As soon as the song starts, he hears your feet absolutely slam on the board. He's shocked but doesn't look over he's focused on his side of the screen. By the end, you huff heavily, looking up. "You won." You put your fist up for a fist bump. "Ah that songs so annoying~" he dosent give you one back putting in his names for national ranks. That's when he noticed that you put in the name the person on every rythum game had and as soon as you pressed confirm he nearly pounces on you. "SO YOURE THE ONE TAKING THE NUMBER 1 SPOTS EVERYWHERE!" "Yea what about it-" he looks at you angrily, calming down a bit before turning back to you. "I declare you my rival" "well...If you wanna we could rematch sometime gimmie your number?"
Ever since then you two have skeduled days to go to the arcade to whale on eatchother and going out to eat afterword. "I'm pretty sure you'd like it reminds me of your face ☆" you say as you point to a horrible cgi skeleton. "Screw you" "heh". You'd eventually open up to him more and invited him out to places more often. He didn't wanna say it outloud but he genuinely enjoyed those moments
One of the times you two went, you try to teach him gutair hero, he kinda mumbles to himself. "You can just play on your lap" "hmmhmm mhm em You can't be this msm hm" "what-" he realizes he said that outloud and covers his face nearly dropping the gutair. "I didn't hear that last part" he sighs in relief "but do you think im cute?" And so he's even more ashamed of himself. "Context clues" you scratch your cheek in a bit of embrassment "I think you're pretty cute too" you embarssingly laugh leaning away
you're pretty sure you could see his heart skip a beat as he looks up at you, his face nearly entirely pink. Peaking at you through his hand. You decide to tease your friend. "Seems like you wanna date me~" He moves back quickly, covering his mouth to hide his blushing. "I'm fine with that ya know~" you lean into him him still covering his face. He looks away looking back at you,his eyes softening "I'm fine with the thought of kissing you..well maybe a little more than fine but-" your words were cut off as you feel his lips touch yours. Quick yet soft, his hands wrapping around your shoulders. You lean back trying to catch your breath "...how long have you've been waiting to do that?" "...a few months now" "That's kinda adorable Xiao" you lean in for another kiss. You two recount that day as your first date
Ever since then he's more willing to hang out a little more clingy too. Whenever he had a show he would ask you if you were busy that day before sending you the ticket link. "Hey are you busy on the 14th?" "No why?" He'd send you the link without a secound thought "you know I'm not really into idols that much" "I'm in the group..." "...bought"
He actively looks for you in the audience. You would text him where you were sitting beforehand, yet he'd still look like a lost puppy. As soon as he finds you, his eyes sparkled. He forced himself to calm down before giving you a small wave
It was by the end of the show where he was performing the last song and you noticed something about their dance it kinda looked like what you would do on a song you knew well. It was then that you realized Xiao made a dance routine inspired by your sweaty gaming dance. You covered your face in embrassment but peaked through your hands. You couldn't believe he paid that much attention to you. He smirks noticing this
As the show ends, he runs over to you, "That was...a little embrassing" you blush a bit. "..." "dosent mean I didn't like it tho!" Trying not to offend him further you mumble on of how great the performance was. At first he's pretty stiff with his arms crossed you'd think he was annoyed till he kissed you again leaning in to hug you. "I'm glad you liked it" he whispers ever so softly in your ear.
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He offen saw you working on projects for bands he likes and decided to commission you. He invited you to a studio and you both began to focus on what he commissioned you on. "I'm looking for something calm yet something someone would listen to in the morning to wake them up..." "hmmm" you play a calm chord progression on your gutair. "Speed up a bit" he taps his foot as if keeping pace as you speed up your playing. "That's pretty good! Sounds like a Remmber sports song" " YOU LISTEN TO THEM?" "Yea?" "Oh my god I thought you wouldn't catch that-" "they're a bit of a guilty pleasure"
You two always worked together after that whenever he would be lost in thought you'd just play hall of the mountain king behind him. He'd turn around slowly as your playing got more intense. "You think of something?" "..."
You pretty much became 5wirl's offical gutairst after kazuha recommended you. They'd make fun of him for how long you two stayed at the studio together. "Kazuha~, you left us sleeping in the shopping cart again!" Venti grins ear to ear "must really like that gutairst." Kazuha smiles."They're just a friend I find it easy to get along with" he thinks about what you two were talking about his eyes softening as if it were an old fond memory "and he's doing it again" heizou sighs jokingly
A few months of performing together, they treat you as family, almost apart of 5wirl. As soon as Kazuha ever left the room they'd turn to you in a heartbeat. "You sure you don't kiss when we're not looking?" "Eh?!" "Does kazuha usually get all mumbly around you" "he does but-" "I KNEW IT" "dose he show you his unironic leaf collection" they all lean in expectingly. "No wha-" You made sure kazuha was too far to hear what you were about to say "...OK so this one time..." they listened to you like their lives depended on it.
The day you told them about that is the day you regret the most, they always looked you and kazuha up and down. Snicker to themselves. "How much you wanna bet they might kiss today" "CAN YOU TWO CUT IT OUT" you let out a sigh walking into the recording studio to practice, a familiar humming following you in a few secounds later. You two sing together and when you finish he finally speaks up. "You know... this the song I was playing when I first realized I was into you" "heh really" you stop strumming, realizing what he said "wait what-" he laughs softly at your reaction placing a hand on your cheek. "That songs kinda special to me..." he holds your hand tenderly with his unbandaged hand. "Reminds me of how much I love you" your eyes widen a bit as he looks at you with the most soft eyes. "I love you too kazuha" you smile gently, letting him lean in to kiss you
All of them noticed you two were dating it was odvious, the way you two acted around eatchother gave litterally everything away. "You two give eatchother less personal space than before are you dating?" "What?" "And you smell like him-" "how do you know what he smells like" "so you're dating?!" "How did you come to that conclusion?!" You and venti would bicker trying to hide your relationship with kazuha after he forgot to tell you he already told them.
Finally a show came along a small gig surprising a popular idol group would show, but still nice. You looked at the music sheet for the song looked up at him, sighed, and looked back. He looked so pleased giving you a few riffs and you look down to see another reason to go to therapy.
What he didn't put on hell on paper was a very veryyy familiar cord progression. He played it himself and put it in post. Making another version so if you ever asked you wouldn't notice, and a few weeks later they went live
You watched them in the audience, hearing the song you helped on and felt your smile fade into a straight face as you heard your solo along with the memorable melody gutair. He saw this trying to avoid a giggle while performing, he's suffering from you brainrot the rest of the show, some fancams caught him getting kicked by heizou or Xiao.
"So how did you like the show~" "Xiao almost kicked you off the stage..." There's a silence. "He dosent kick hard enough for that...but at least you enjoyed it" he smiles, pinching your cheeks and rubing your face, you look away hearing him giggle at your behavior. "I'll make you a coffee-" "don't you dare make a reference" he smirks at you "hehe"
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You were online friends usually playing main stream games or random stuff you found. Youd always play together though, never single player! He hates that
"Are you playing a single player game..." "no-" "LIAR ITS ON YOUR STATUS" "SHIT- I mean I have no idea what your talking about" "...atleast stream it" he always got all pouty when he couldn't play with you
He'd definitely randomly interrogate you because you found something out on someone you both knew. "IS IT ABOUT-" "shush shus shu stfu quiet" "oh come on dude what is she gonna hear you?" "We're in a public call" "oh...LMAO" "DUDE"
When you combine both these loves, his love for you playing a co-op detective game with you has become the best thing for him to ever experience. "Who will be first to solve this?" "We're supposed to work together heizou" "oh...oh 😏" "nevermind I'm gonna play hitman without you" his avatar suddenly turns to face you and emotes a shocked reaction "OH COME ON"
He started catching feelings for a while. Ever since you two got on a call for the first time, your voice kinda intransted him. "Your voice Is so nicee" muttering into the mic yet you heard him clearly. "Thank you?" "It really is" its like you can see him currently slumped over his desk just day dreaming about you.
Didn't stop your offline friend for teasing you about him too. "Ooo he's into you~" "nuh uh nope nope!" The tips of your ears turn a pink. "And you like him back might aswell seal the deal" "STOP IT!" Blushing heavily you slam your hand down. Unsurprisingly Heizous in a simular situation 4nemo teasing him over just how much he talks about you. "Ohhh they're so cool" "they smell nice" "stop mocking me" he huffs "then get with them" they say in sync "stop weirdly harmonizing" he sits down covering his currently pink face.
Didn't help when you two first saw eatchother. "What the hell you live so closeby" "I know right what's next you're at my favorite Cafe conveniently the next table over" you turn over your shoulder seeing someone smile at their phone turn back and type "you mentioned before you had moles under both eyes right?" The persons face dropping looking around."Yea?" Without typing back, you walk over sitting infrot of him. "Bro, someone's sitting at my table, hold on" you smile at him typing back "oh sorry lemme just leave then my mistake 😔" "WAIT HUH?!?!" his eyes widen as he grabs your wrist "y/n?" small tears forming in his eyes pulling you into a hug with desperation. "Heizou" he hugs you tighter when he hears his name come out your mouth. "You're as pretty as I thought you'd be..." patting his head as he nuzzles into your chest. "You wanna go back to mine after this" "Yes!" With sudden enthusiasm, you two talk about your irl lives while bullying his drink of choice. "Pumpkin spice.." "oh my god shut up my again" "it's nasty" "it's good to me!!" "Shut up mom with 2 kids living in a van"
He's been going to your house at least once a week now "we should play together" he overbites his lip "I barely charged my secound controller" you overbite your lip back at him "then let's just hang out then I got news bby" visibly cringing at that last bit you let him in with him near instantly showing you a picture of him being accepted into an idol group. "Ohh you're gonna have real fangirls now" "Shut up!" "I'm gonna lead them just to make fun of you" "you're the only fangirl I'd date" "..." You visibly cringe "OH COME ON" "HAHAHA"
And so you were invited to the hell known as a debut concert and dear god was it near impossible to not be as hype as the crowd. Especially catching the fancams with him winking at you. Anyone could tell he was super inlove with whoever he was winking at especially after the group stopped in between a song witch you were barely paying attention to until you heard "I hope you guys never have to play solo!" Could have swore you felt him glare at you "speaking of solo the next songs title is-" all you paid attention to yet you look like you just woke up from a really loud noise.
"Y/n! Did you see it! Did ya like my moves" he smiles at you like a happy little dog. "It was surprisingly great Heizou" "surprising huh?" He pouts as if saddened by that comment. "But the show was amazing Heizou I'd go again" that bright glow of a smile you had is something hell never let go of, without hesitation he holds your hand "marry me" "come again?" "I mean it we should date!" Accidental slip up. He's screwed, you're gonna reject him so blatantly he's never gonna bother you again. "Heizou...that's so sudden" your eyes meet warmly "but I've been thinking the same" kissing his cheek you walk off letting him process what just happened. "WAIT WAIT WAIT YOURE NOT DITCHING ME AFTER SAYING THAT" "MAYBE I AM!" You had to run home that day but it was worth it laughing at him trying to keep up.
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undead-supernova · 19 days
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Boring! / Masterlist
(part two here)
Playlist
pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
plot: despite being intimidated by your confidence, Eddie decides to try and talk to you (and it pays off)
warnings: drinking, men acting weird, reader being sure of herself and extroverted, Eddie being a little subby 'cause he's a cutie pie, making out, no smut
wc: 2.4k
inspo: this last week I have become obsessed with Lil Mariko's music, specifically Don't Touch, Boring, I'm Baby, Hi, I'm a Slut, etc. I was inspired by her attitude and her sound to create a reader that I don't ever see but want! I include some of her lyrics in here as dialogue so go check her out and support her thanks!
(can you tell I'm a slut for girlypop trap metal/screamo? also wow I love this so much)
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Eddie was a sucker for going to parties alone.
It wasn’t like he tried to, but considering all his other friends ended up at other colleges, Eddie felt compelled to at least try to meet people. But it was for naught, just a bout of self-sabotage and eye rolls at himself. He would end up sitting by himself on a beer-stained couch, drink in one hand and a joint in another. Bitterly filling the house with smoke. And, Jesus, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even spoken to anyone.
But then…well…
“Wow, what a sad bitch. Too bad money can’t buy you a personality. I’d buy one for you, but I won’t. You’re just so fucking lame.”
You threw a drink in some guy’s face, laughing hysterically as you watched him practically growl in anger. With a hand on your hip, sharp nails grazing a short silk dress, you looked like a wild lioness in an arena. Like you were ready to take a bite out of this dude and revel in his blood. Chew on his pound of flesh.
“Slut!” he shouted.
“Awh, thank you!” you exclaimed, your grin almost maniacal. Glossed lips somehow glimmering in the dim lighting. “Too bad you have to fucking grope women in order to get one to notice you.” Another laugh left your lips. “I should get a goddamn restraining order on you, shitdick.”
It was in that moment that Eddie fell in love with you.
Well, okay, he didn’t actually fall in love with you. But, god, he knew he could.
You were just so sure of yourself, always in control of the situation at hand. A dominating presence that commanded whatever room you were in. It was this magnetism that drew him to you, never leaving his sight whenever you showed up.
No matter how many times he had a knee jerk reaction to get involved when men wouldn’t keep their hands to themselves, you were always one step ahead. He’d watched you slap someone, kick them in the shins, in the balls, and even landed a nice right hook. All in your short dresses and six-inch heels. All sparkly and put together. 
It made him weak, utterly susceptible to whatever it is that made you so alluring. This feminine rage, this disdain at the idea that women couldn’t be impolite. You let it be known that that was far from your mind. It wasn’t even defiance—it was just you.
And no matter the genre, you were moving and laughing with your friends. Practically gassing each other up as you grinded on one another. Eddie would take another six puffs of his joint, trying to let the smoke billow enough that he wouldn’t keep checking you out. But it was to no avail.
It was this itch in his brain, something only you could scratch. And he didn’t even know your name. No knowledge of your major or your preferences or whether you’d think he was as pretty as he found you to be. He thought it would always be this way.
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Until Eddie thought that enough was enough. It was another Saturday party that you’d shown up to. He was back on that couch, back in that uncomfortable, stuffy attitude. You were standing around with your friends, finishing off a red solo cup and reapplying lip gloss over your lipstick. Carefully, methodically. 
It was a crime and he knew he needed to commit one himself before he’d regret it.
“Fuck it,” Eddie muttered, pushing himself off of the couch and heading towards you. Smoothed out his hair, checked to make sure he still smelled good. Made sure his rings were straightened.
It felt like some kind of fate, the way your friends moved over to refill their cups as he approached. How prophetic, being able to get your attention with just a turn of your head. Put your hands on your hips.
“Uh, hi,” he started, immediately resisting the urge to wince at his awkwardness. Where the hell was his game? Did it run away because it was you?
You tilted your head, looking him up and down before smiling. Smiling. “Hi, there.”
“I’m Eddie.”
You giggled, looking slightly confused as you gave him yours. But in the smile that came after, he could tell you were amused. 
“Hi, Eddie,” you said after your introduction. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“Well,” he started, trying to formulate a sentence. “I’ve seen you around and I thought you seemed cool.”
“Oh, yeah?” you egged on, raising an eyebrow.
He silently nodded.
“I like your tattoos,” you complimented, still grazing his body with your eyes, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Eddie felt so exposed, so vulnerable to your gaze, nearly desperate for you to look him in the eye again. It would be easier than whatever you were starting to do to him.
But instead, you touched his left forearm arm and he froze. Literally froze. 
“What’s this one all about?” you asked, tapping it with your pointer finger. Goosebumps flooded his arm as you traced it with the digit, your nail scratching at his skin. It was the most recent addition, a fiery red dragon with spurts of fire flicking off the sides and a black D20 wrapped inside its tail. 
“Uh,” he started, blinking a few times as he tried to regain his composure. “I got it a few weeks ago. It’s, uh, a D&D thing?” 
He didn’t mean for it to come out like a question but, to be honest, if you kept touching him like that, he was really going to embarrass himself. Well, not him. His dick. How pathetic.
Your eyebrows lifted again. “D&D?”
“Yeah, Dungeons & Dragons.”
“You know, I’ve heard of that,” you said with a small smile, removing your fingers before crossing your arms over your chest. Leaned back, sized him up. “But you should tell me more about it.”
“R-really?”
“Yeah, really,” you replied with a chuckle. “Tell me about this thing it’s holding. What is that?”
“Well, it’s called a D-Twenty. It’s a dice that has twenty sides and, like, when you roll it, you get any number between one and twenty. It’s one of those things where the dice have rules and if you get below a fourteen, you’re destined to fail but if you go above a fourteen, you’re more likely to succeed. But then if you get a one then it’s called, uh, a critical failure. Automatic fail, you know? But if you get a twenty—”
“Hold on,” you said, holding up your hand as you glanced behind him. “Give me a minute.”
Eddie watched you walk past him, frozen in place. He’d really lost his chance, hadn’t he? He should’ve known better than to let himself actually talk about D&D. It was stupid! Absolutely pointless! A girl like you would never want to listen to someone blabber about a fucking fantasy game.
He should’ve known better.
The sound of your heels felt deafening as you stalked up to a guy and snapped your fingers in his face. "You've been staring at me for, like, a fucking hour. Can I help you?” The guy just stared. “Like, what's your problem? If you get near me, if you try to touch me? I swear to god, shitdick, I will take my Louboutins and castrate you."      
Blubbering like a goddamn fish, the dude scratched at his head, clearly trying to come up with some kind of retort. “Hey, don’t fucking say shit to me when you’re putting it all out there for free. You expect guys to not wanna fuck you when your ass is out?”
Eddie’s fists clenched, ready to throw a punch before you had him beat.
“Yawn,” you moaned, dramatically stretching your arms out like you were getting ready for bed. “Can you shut the fuck up? I’m falling asleep listening to you. You’re so fucking boring.” 
He stopped talking. The douche bag actually stopped, opting to stare at you with wide eyes as you absolutely annihilated him.
“You’re just talking to yourself at this point. Like, seriously, you’re fucking boring. Don’t talk to me."
That was when Eddie turned away, reasoning with himself that he lost your interest. He was just gonna be next, another weirdo that didn’t deserve your time. And, to be fair, he’d get it. Hell, he’d leave you the fuck alone forever if you said so. But he still had a grip on his pride, tucking his tail and ready to flee.
Eddie nearly gasped as he felt a pull on one of his belt loops, unable to process in time when you tugged him back towards you, face dangerously close to his. Your eyes tracing the lines of his lips as he struggled to breathe.
"Excuse me?” you nearly whispered. “Where do you think you're going? I didn't say you were boring, did I?"
“Ah,” he breathed, his heart racing as your grip tightened on his jeans. “N-no, I guess not.”
That earned a smile from you. “Exactly,” you said, louder this time. “Keep talking, pretty boy.”
As Eddie kept explaining the dice, you took his hand, holding it over your shoulder as you guided him back over to that couch he had been sulking on. Not once did he stop rambling, feeling compelled as you gave him little “mhm”s and “oh, yeah?”s that sounded like goddamn moans. 
Nearly pushed him down to the cushion, crossing your legs as you actively listened. Actively listened. 
Only interrupting when you lightly touched his long locks and asked, “Is this okay?” 
And he nodded, stunned at you asking for his permission. Then you were telling him to keep going. With your pretty fingers wrapping around one of his curls, eyes nearly starry as he went along.
God, where did you come from? And how could he ever be the same?
“You’re so cool,” you said when he’d finally decided to shut up. “Really smart.”
“Nah,” he scoffed, trying to keep the heat from rushing to his cheeks. “I just have, like, specific interests.”
“That you know everything about,” you pointed out, pressing your pointer finger to his cheek. “I don’t think I could memorize all of that.”
“Well, what do you like?” he asked, now feeling more sure of himself. 
You chuckled. “Is this when you ask me what my major is?”
Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes, all too aware of the stereotypical conversation starter. And to quote you earlier: Yawn.
“How many guys have tried that?” he wondered. “And how many did you kick in the face?”
That earned a grin from you, something all proud and appreciative. Like he cracked some goddamn code. 
“Too many to count,” you responded, shaking your head. “But because I think you’re sweet, I’ll tell you the truth. I’m undecided. I think I could look into art history or literary analysis. I just want to make the right choice before I commit to it.”
Eddie nodded, feeling electricity begin to sparkle in his chest as you went into detail about your favorite female artists and poets, how you’d spent the last few months becoming obsessed with analysis. How you pictured it as a web of tangled strings that you meticulously unraveled. 
And the more you talked, the more he yearned for you to keep going. Keep filling his head with your thoughts and ideas. 
Then you said the one thing that brought him to nirvana.
“Can I kiss you?” you asked.
“Absolutely,” he answered immediately.
And then your lips were on his.
And it was a magical experience to have your lipstick flood his mouth, growing feverish as the flavor faded and he could now only taste you. 
Now, Eddie didn’t consider himself to be submissive, per se. But he certainly had no problem letting you lead the way, wrapping his curls in your fingers, your nails, and tugging him wherever you wanted. Gnashing teeth, the little moan that escaped your mouth as your tongue curled around his. 
And if his boner hadn’t been visible before, he knew damn well it was now, especially when your other hand met the back of his neck, your nails painstakingly slow as they scraped down to his shoulders. A whine left his lips, all shaky and high-pitched. A fucking whine in the middle of some party at some loser’s house.
But it only drove you further, biting his lips and whispering, “That’s a good boy, hm?”
He gasped. And as if you knew the embarrassment was starting to pool in his stomach, you threw your leg over his waist and returned the noise. Moved your lips to his jaw and raked your teeth over his neck.
And when Eddie had enough strength to open his eyes, he nearly groaned again at your exposed thigh, dress rising up over the curl of your ass. But Eddie felt nervous to touch you, felt nervous to let himself indulge. Not when you hadn’t given permission. 
You weren’t delicate, he knew this. A woman with the power and grace of royalty, waltzing around parties with all that intelligence; all that bark that also bites. 
He wanted you to be his.
Putting his hand on your shoulder, you backed away. Stared up at him through your eyelashes, lipstick smothered around your mouth.
“I, um, I know, like, you may want to go somewhere, but,” Eddie began to stutter, trying to get the blood away from his cock. Focus, focus. “I’d rather take you out on a date first.”
And that’s when he saw you grin. It wasn’t all dominant and flirty. No, it was something genuine, all bashful with your shoulders turning inward. Was he…did his words leave you shy?
“You want to take me out on a date?” you asked.
“Of course I do. I’ve wanted to for a while now.”
“Um, I’d really like that,” you said with a nod. “Keep telling me about that game, though,” you demanded lightly, taking your thumb and attempting to wipe your lipstick from his mouth. He started to try and return the gesture, causing you to giggle. “‘Cause I have some very important questions.”
The rest of the night and early morning was spent spilling knowledge into one another, always listening. Always finding each other’s lips again, quiet whispers of Is this okay? and You taste really nice and Would you keep talking?
When the night ended and he drove you back to your dorm, you made a promise of dinner and a trip around a museum. Made him promise you three times before he gave you a wink and a chuckle.
And it sounded damn near crazy, but maybe Eddie really was in love.
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thank you for the lovely divider @strangergraphics :')
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babyleostuff · 8 months
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partner privileges | hip hop unit
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vocal and performance unit coming soon also, thank you guys for the ideas and help <3
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 
We all know that Coups is Seventeen’s Jeonghan’s sugar daddy. But with them it’s more like - they tell him they want something, and then he buys it. With his partner on the other hand, it would be more like giving his card away to them. He would baby the fuck out of them, he would get seriously o f f e n d e d if they didn’t use his card to buy things for themselves. Forget about paying for anything for the rest of your life when you have Seungcheol by your side. And if you ever think about paying for, I don't know, even a simple meal at the restaurant, he will fight you if you pull out your own money. 
 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO 
Wonwoo likes to tease his members by saying “no” to stuff, just to mess with them. He loves the sulkiness that it brings out in them, and he can’t help but laugh anytime that happens. It’s like a reward after a long day of work. With his partner though??? A word like “no” does not exist. One look from them and he melts, so it’s basically impossible to decline them anything. He’s just so soft for them :((( And because of that, the members use his partner as a way of getting stuff, because one look from his precious love, and he says “yes” immediately (which in members opinion is very unfair, but oh well). There is nothing Wonwoo wouldn’t do for them, even if it’s the silliest thing ever, he will do it for them, that's how much he loves them.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 
Obviously the members’ love language is bullying Gyu, and we know that he doesn’t really mind it, especially after all of those years together, and I’m sure if he was ever offended he would let them know immediately. BUT, because Mingyu is such a precious human being, sometimes he doesn’t have it in him to scold them or tell them to stop, and that would definitely be the partner privilege his partner would get - to defend him when things get too much. And not only with his members, in general too. Mingyu is just such a nice person (sometimes too nice). It doesn’t mean he can’t stand up for himself, but his partner would definitely be the one to defend him first, before he could even fathom that someone just offended him. The urge to protect Gyu is strong gyus :(((
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON 
While working on music, for the band or solo, Vernon obviously listens to other peoples’ opinions and thoughts, always taking them into consideration. But if he had to choose a person that has the most influence on his work, it would have to be his partner. One word from them and he’s like “omg, babe that’s such a great idea”, and kisses them before pulling out his laptop immediately. He always lets them listen to snippets of the songs and shows them the new lyrics he is working on before anyone else. 
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree
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alittlebitofsainz · 20 days
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- just don’t want your friends to see -
prompt: “said you needed me, wanted to be with me, just don’t want your friends to see”
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: the pressure of keeping the relationship a secret is getting to you both. is he ashamed of you? (everyone needs a little soft and reassuring lando in their lives every now and then)
a/n: can be considered a lil’ part two to told her you were just a friend. lyrics from ‘you to you’ by maisie peters :)
masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection
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“hey, you guys, hope you haven’t been waiting long!”
your head turned to follow the sound of the voice, seeing max and his girlfriend pietra approaching, a few minutes late for lunch. you noticed lando doing the same, his fingers immediately disentangling from your own as soon as he spotted them, your hand feeling empty without his clasped around it as he took a step away from you. you knew you should be used to it by now, you’d both agreed that this was for the best, keeping your relationship in the shadows, locked behind closed doors. I want this relationship to be just ours, he’d said. it had sounded nice at the time, poetic, even, and you’d agreed, maybe a little too eagerly. but as you sat at lunch with max and pietra, perched awkwardly on the edge of your seat so as not to seem too close to lando, listening to him laugh off questions about his romantic life and saying he hadn’t really met anyone special yet - you had to admit that it stung. it stung the same way it did every time, and you found yourself unnaturally quiet throughout the meal, eyes flicking between person to person as the conversation continued around you.
if you’d thought it had gone unnoticed by lando, you thought wrong.
“baby, everything okay?”
even the pet name stung, the façade of ‘friendship’ falling by the wayside as soon as you made it back to lando’s apartment. just the two of you, a safe space, away from prying eyes and listening ears. you could be in a relationship again, having put it on pause for the time you were out in public.
you looked up, trying to plaster a fake smile across your face, the expression faltering slightly at the edges.
“yeah, fine. just tired, that’s all.” came your reply. but lando wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t blind, either. you tried to escape through to the kitchen, but he wasn’t having any of that.
“y/n, I know you. I can tell you’re not fine. talk to me, please.”
the gentleness of his voice coaxed you to be honest, letting out a sigh as you turned to lean against the kitchen counter, facing him. you couldn’t quite meet his eyes, almost embarrassed. you’d both agreed on this - why were you suddenly feeling so upset about it all? you knew lando loved you, appreciated you, but something about the way he acted when the two of you were out in public, around colleagues, around friends, even, that just got to you.
“are you embarrassed of me?”
the words left your mouth before filtering through your brain first, and you regretted them immediately; the way lando’s face fell, pain and guilt etched across his features - you swore you would never forget it, and you never wanted to see it again.
“no, no. fuck, y/n, I could never be embarrassed of you.” his voice was strained as he took several paces towards you across the kitchen, casting a cautious gaze over you as he tried to decide whether to give you space or comfort. you felt emotions bubble up inside you, ones you’d been trying to keep hidden for months, for the sake of your relationship. you’d always worried that if you caused a fuss or spoke about your emotions in any way, it would push lando away. why would he want someone who was such a problem when he could have pretty much anyone he wanted? it was irrational and you knew it, but keeping it inside for so long, unable to talk to anyone about it…? well, it had festered in your mind until it had taken over.
“I just feel like that’s why you don’t wanna tell your friends about me…” you eventually said, voice coming out as more of a whimper than you’d intended. lando closed the remaining space between you, hesitating for split second before taking your hands in his, his eyes searching yours imploringly.
“baby, I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like that.” his voice was firm, filled with conviction and sincerity, but also tinged with a hint of emotion, upset that he’d ever hurt the person in his life that he cared the most about, “I swear, I never meant to. I’m so sorry.”
“it’s just difficult.” you murmured in reply, relishing the feeling of your hands being in his once again as you dropped your gaze down to look at them. “I feel like I’m always acting in public, like I can’t relax. and I can’t even talk to anyone about it.”
“I wish you’d talk to me.” lando’s voice was equally as quiet as yours, his tone so genuine that you couldn’t help but relax just a little, fears of pushing him away by being too honest dissipating by the second. he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, and it was only when he brushed a thumb across your skin to wipe away a tear that you realised you’d started crying.
“really?” you blinked up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna hear about it.”
he took your face in both hands, eyebrows curved up into a soft frown. “why would you think that? is it… is it something I said? something I did?” you could tell he meant it genuinely, but it made you realise just how irrational you were being. nothing lando had ever said or done had given you any indication that he wouldn’t want to hear your thoughts, your concerns, the things that made you upset. you were still navigating things, but you were beginning to realise that this was someone who you could really open up to. someone who cared about you. you shook your head, brushing away your own tears with the palm of your hand, letting out a wet chuckle.
“no, no. you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid.” you admitted, but now it was lando’s turn to shake his head.
“you weren’t being stupid.” he murmured, dropping his hands from your face and instead wrapping them around your waist, drawing you into his chest as he placed delicate kisses to the top of your head. “nothing you feel is stupid. it’s not easy keeping us a secret, trust me, I know.” he sighed, resting his chin on your head as he held you close. “I’m not embarrassed of you, y/n, I’m just trying to protect you. people… they can be pretty crazy when it comes to people I date. I just wanna keep you away from that just a little longer.”
you nodded into his chest. deep down, you knew that. you just needed to hear it from him. you let out a soft, contented sigh, the sound mirrored by lando as he tightened his grip round you just a little. he didn’t want to lose you, especially not over something like this, a fact he told his mum on the phone later that night as he finally told her all about you.
the final part is out now :)
a smau based on this fic is out now :)
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wqnwoos · 3 months
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jeonghan is staring at you from across the room with unnatural intensity, and you don’t know how to point it out without being rude.
because, on the off chance that you’re mistaken and he’s actually transfixed by the appealingly blank wall above your head, it would be embarrassing. horrendously, irremediably embarrassing.
but you know yoon jeonghan like the back of your hand, and so you don’t think you’re mistaken. in fact, you think you know him better than the back of your hand, because if someone actually asked you to describe the back of your hand, you’d be fucked — but if someone asked you to describe jeonghan, you could wax lyrical.
you could tell them about how you met, three years ago. (freshman orientation, a haze of embarrassment and icebreakers.) you could tell them about his coffee order (black) and his favourite colour (also black) and the classes he hates and the classes he loves. you could tell them about how his eyes have a certain light to them, something you’ve never seen in anyone before, animated and effulgent and brilliant. you could tell them about his family; his friends; the way his fingers slot between yours; the way he laughs when he means it and the way he laughs when he doesn’t.
you could also tell this hypothetical someone that you’ve been in love with jeonghan for the past two years. and that he is totally, completely, utterly oblivious.
“your apartment’s ugly.”
(you could also tell them that he has a knack for being honest at entirely the wrong time, and you’re pretty sure he does it on purpose.)
“you know,” you say, dragging yourself out of your thoughts, “when most people want to break a silence, they ask a question or something.”
he doesn’t deign to respond.
“insults tend to be a last resort,” you add helpfully.
“not an insult,” he returns leisurely, sprawling across your couch, draping his legs over your lap. “you just need some life in here.”
“i’m alive. you’re alive. we’re both in here.” you shove his legs off. “besides. i just moved in.”
“you should get a lizard.”
your lack of surprise is a testament to how long you’ve been friends. “i’m not getting a lizard. are you hungry?”
“you could call it… barney.”
“i feel like having pizza.”
“or maybe lola, if it’s a girl. lola is nice.”
“i think we’re having two completely different conversations here,” you decide. and push his legs off you. again.
but this time, in a fluid movement you don’t fully comprehend the mechanics of, he swivels his body so his head rests in your lap.
it’s the simplest of movements, and somehow you feel like you can’t breathe. time slows and speeds all at once — heart in your throat, eyes on his for all of a moment and a half. you almost hate when he does this; such casual affection sends you reeling.
it takes you a moment to recover, and you realise he’s talking; “what?” you blurt. “i didn’t hear you.”
he casts you a strange look, but doesn’t comment. “pizza is fine, i said.”
“okay,” you reply, a second too late. “i’ll, uh. order that. now, i mean.”
jeonghan gazes intently up at you, long hair splayed on your thighs, brown eyes tinged with the faintest concern. “you’re being weird,” he says, but soft enough to come out worried — caring, more than anything. “is everything okay?”
you think back to him staring at you, just a few minutes ago. you think back to his legs on your lap with casual familiarity. you think back to freshman orientation too, the memory of his easy smile and shorter hair.
you try to think back to the moment you fell in love with him, but you can’t pinpoint that. that was less of a fall, more of a slow, inevitable realisation.
you force a smile. “everything’s fine.”
“your pants, ___,” he says, a wry smile tugging up his lips. “they are on fire.”
“i’m not lying,” you say, in a way that is so obviously and blatantly a lie. there’s a reason you’re not majoring in theatre, and it lies in your inability to keep up a facade when pressed.
jeonghan usually doesn’t press, so you’re not sure why he’s like this now — laid across your lap so you can’t look away, only breaking his gaze for those slow, lazy blinks.
“i’m gonna order that pizza.” your voice sounds hollow, even to you, so it’s not really a surprise when jeonghan sits up and takes your hand to stop you moving away.
“wait a bit,” he says, tenderness — softness, even — seeping into his voice. “i just want to say. i know.”
fuck.
your voice quavers ever so slightly. “you know? what do you know?”
as if it isn’t obvious. as if you aren’t obvious. it’s only taken two years of pining for you to get to this point; for him to get to this realisation; for you to face this rejection.
“i know,” he says softly, carefully, “about your feelings. for me, i mean.”
there’s a silence that seems to stretch forever. but it’s not more than three seconds, maximum.
“feelings of strong hatred and ill will, maybe,” you finally say, a swift rebuttal of the conversation you think he wants to have. i’m sorry, i didn’t know you felt that way, i didn’t mean to…. you’re not doing this — not with him.
jeonghan still has your hand encased in his, fiddling with your fingers, tracing palm lines as he speaks. “i’m being serious. i just don’t know how to say — how to say what i want. not well enough.”
“jeonghan,” you sigh, because it seems that you are doing this. “you don’t have to — ”
“i love you.”
it’s odd, what three simple words can do to a person. time doesn’t quite slow down, but suddenly you are so acutely aware of everything. the clock on your wall that’s been stuck on 3:52pm since you put it up. the lightbulb jeonghan has promised to change for you is flickering. his hand is warm and soft and comfortable, and it’s still holding onto yours.
there’s a small smile working its way up your face. you don’t feel breathless, like you imagined you might. you feel like a weight has been eased off your ribcage; and under it, your heart feels full, so incredibly full. “you’re serious?”
jeonghan smiles back at you, that inexpressible light filling his eyes. “am i ever not?”
“you never are,” you say, but you’re laughing, recklessly leaning into him, curling against him in a way you’ve done a million times before, but never quite like this. you’ve never been able to press a kiss to the side of his jaw, never been able to feel him reciprocate with one on your temple — until now.
“are you not going to say it back?” he murmurs, smiling against your hair.
“do i need to?” you ask, angling back to look at him with mirth in your eyes. “you know, don’t you?”
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an / i have finally written (and posted) something and i HATE it i’m sorry.
perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura
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minhosimthings · 5 months
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D!ck
Symphony Smut Series Day 3: Doja Cat and Starbo3's D!ck
Lyric: She actin like an addict
Pairings: Husband!Sunoo × fem!wife!reader
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, pheromone usage, p in v, oral (f receiving), dom!Sunoo, sub!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, spitting, sort of a breeding kink, brat reader, swearing, french kisses
A/N: and day 3 has come! I loved writing for Sunoo, cause I've never written for him before and also CAUSE HE'S MY AGE YAAAS. So have some pheromones even though Sunoo doest need those for me to cling onto him
THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST
Buisness trips. So boring weren't they? For the wife of a man who was constantly on them, it was even more so.
"Sunoo another party today?" You're sighed, falling back on the bed as your husband laughed and adjusted his tie in the mirror.
"Im sorry darling, but I've got to attend." Sunoo fixed his hair, carefully combing down a cowlick, "Would you like to come too? You know that blue dress has been laying idle in your cupboard for a long time."
"It's turquoise, Sun." You grumbled, getting up and giving a quick kiss to your husband, before fumbling with his tie, "I'll wear it, only if you agree to give me what I want tonight."
Sunoo chuckled and leaned closer, basically pinning you against the wall, before going in for a deep kiss. His tongue collided with yours painfully, giving you the taste of something you've been wanting to devour for weeks.
"Ngh- Sun" you wanted him to eat you out right there and then.
"Tch tch impatient aren't you?" Sunoo chuckled. You could feel his erection press against your sweatpants, rubbing arousal into you.
"Tonight sunshine." Sunoo caressed your cheek, "I promise. Tonight after the party. Get all pretty for me alright?"
The night was coming too slow for you. All throughout the day, you did nothing but laze around, annoy the cook into teaching you how to make lasagna, failing at making said lasagna, and then speed running a Pokemon game.
But the real treasure of the day were the few minutes before you were getting ready.
Patting down the creases of your perfectly ironed dress, you admired yourself in the mirror, doing a little spin for yourself, and watching as the fabric perfectly spun like a Disney scene. The pearls on your neck stood out too, with their gliterry sheen and the gold embossments.
Reaching into your perfume drawer, you spotted a green coloured tube, which was labelled 'Oil perfume'.
You chuckled at that. Oil perfume, your ass. That, you were certain, was the 'special' perfume Sunoo has gotten you from Italy.
Chuckling like a villain to yourself, you took the greasy substance from the tube and applied it to your neck and wrists, where you knew Sunoo would kiss you, inhaling the intoxicating perfumes of the pheromone, and maybe he'd give you your cake earlier than before.
"Darling, you look stunning." Sunoo greeted you, as you stepped out of your room into the hallway.
"Thank you Sun." You giggled, promptly lifting your wrists up for Sunoo to kiss.
"Nice perfume." Sunoo kissed your wrists more harshly than he usually did.
"Fuck you smell so good."
You had no time to think about anything, as the next second, you were against the wall with Sunoo an inch from your face.
Your tongue danced with his in what seemed to a synchronized tango, the two of you treating each other with as much love and affection that your bodies could exude at the moment. His hands toyed with the hem of your dress, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh. You brought your hands up to his face when you two pulled away from the kiss, pressing your lips against the tip of his nose. His lips connected themselves to your mouth once more, a smile on his face as he did.
He led you to the top of the bed, laying you down slowly as his body hovered on top of yours. He took a moment to take you in, how the light coming from the curtains accentuated your every feature. He leaned in, pressing a small kiss to your forehead and moving on to your cheeks. "You’re so breathtaking baby." he whispered, his mouth coming to yours as he kissed you with such an intensity you'd never faced before.
He undid your dress after you gave him a curt nod, tossing it off to the side. He pressed his lips to the side of your neck, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on the surface. You moved your neck to give him more access, offering what you could of your body so he could take. his hand moved downward, cupping your breast in his grasp. His fingers rolled around the nipples, pinching and tugging them the way that would have them hardening underneath his grasp. He bit down on your neck, his tongue running over the affected skin to soothe the sting a bit. His mouth moved down to your other breast, engulfing it and treating it the same as the other one.
You brought your hand down to his hair, grasping at the strands as his teeth gently tugged on your nipples. The buds started to erect with every swipe and lick that he took at them, his eyes locking on yours with every movement that he took. Your mouth slightly parted, your breathing starting to grow a little heavier as he stimulated your nipples. He pulled away, leaving a small kiss on the top of your breasts before pressing his lips against your stomach. He trailed kisses all the way down to your cunt, stopping where he knew that you needed him most. His lips moved to your inner thighs, pressing kisses against the delicate flesh. He bit into your right thigh, his fangs leaving their indenture when he pulled away from you.
His mouth eventually did make itself to your cunt, his tongue swiping across your folds to collect the slick that had accumulated. You closed your thighs around his head instinctively, watching as he looked up at you while licking a stripe up your pussy. "Always did taste so good for me, could spend hours buried in this pussy," he spoke up, his tongue going inside your hole after he finished with what he had to say. Your hands made their way to his hair, your fingers gently stroking his hair as he started to push his tongue in and out of you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when your slick coated his tongue, often taking more pleasure in this than you. "Oh fuck, right there," you moaned out, your voice sounding needy as you felt his tongue hit that one spot inside of you.
He moaned, feeling your body shudder beneath him, your muscles clenching tight around his mouth. He moved faster, his fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his tongue deeper, relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice low and raspy.
You were right at that moment, feeling your belly pressurize as Sunoo moved like a maniac around your clit. But-
"Oh fuck this." Sunoo spat at your pussy, "I need you inside me."
Your eyes are fixated on his cock that yearns to be inside of your warmth. He pumps his length a few times, drops of precumming spilling out of his sensitive tip as he slowly lines himself up with your drooling entrance. You mewl out lewdly as he pushes himself in, filling you up completely and your palms fly up to his shoulders for purchase. 
You're thankful he prepped you a little bit earlier otherwise you're not so sure if you could take him in one go like this. after a few heartbeats, he rolls his hips slightly, his pelvis rubbing against your puffy clit and you moan softly. 
He picks up the tempo, his thrusts now faster and harder as the room echoes with the sounds of your pleasure and the bed creaking. his strong arms move your legs up to rest on his broad shoulders, making the position more intimate but most importantly, making it easier for him to go deeper.
Sunoo's nostrils are flared, taking in the sweet poison of your perfume. He didn't know what was making him act like this, but he loved it.
The kiss on your neck was gentle and innocent compared to the sinful actions being committed with each of his powerful thrusts. With every single drag of your tight cunt against his dick, constantly clenching around him deliberately which forced out a long string of groans as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
He dotes on the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name in a choked whisper, your nails clawing down his back. Your cunt pulsing around his cock. Your juices spilling from your hole as he thrusts into you like there's no tomorrow.
"Fuck Sunoo!" you cry as you cream around his cock, cunt tensing around him which pushes him over the edge too. He lets out a broken moan as his warmth fills you up. he stays inside of you for a few moments, not wanting his cum to go to waste. 
"So I guess we'll be skipping the party today?" You look at your husband cheekily.
Sunoo glared at you and gripped your waist more tightly.
"You used that perfume didn't you?" He poked his cheek with his tongue, "Didn't know you were such an impatient slut for me."
"Don't worry darling.
I've not even started yet."
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alonetimelover · 10 months
Text
pairing: harry styles x polish!reader (fem, she/her)
summary: harry plays a show where one of the most important people in his life attends - his fiancée's granny.
submitted by @otaktomotyl, thank you and i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it!
a/n: i found polish translations on the internet, i hope they're okay.
masterlist ask, comment, come say hi!
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harryupdates
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liked by harrysmoustache, harryshoee and 37 201 others
harryupdates HARRY landed in Warsaw. I repeat, HARRY landed in Warsaw.
view all 3 013 comments
harrysmoustache and he's holding yn's hat???
harryshoee yn and harry can finally reunite... 🥹
harrysfan92 do you see his arms???? he looks like a Greek god, god damn
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harrysmoustache
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liked by harryupdates, stylesbabie and 12 301 others
harrysmoustache HAARY AT YN'S COUSIN WEDDING!!!!
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harryupdates you're so fast with those updates, lyla. im gonna lose my job...
stylesbabie yn be aware, he looks good enough to be THE groom. keep him close
⤷ harryslipstick i think that ring on her finger is saying more than anything
harrysmybestie guys, you know we are so close to see HIM at HIS OWN wedding...
⤷ harrysmylife don't
⤷ harrysmoustache why would you say that?!
⤷ outofstyles am i the only one awaiting that day impatiently??? i wanna see him being all nervous and loving and all of the emotions that people feel at the weddings
stylesislife only harry styles could come to my wedding wearing a tanktop that he also wears to his shows
⤷ hArrysbtch the only man i could forgive AND compliment on looking so fucking good
stylesbabie yn's cousin posted a photo from the ceremony, and you can see yn and harry being all snuggle and touchy 😭😭😭 i love them so much
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"What do you mean you're not coming up on stage? Harry, my love, what changed during the last two hours?" YN asked into her phone, anxious Harry being on the other side, soundly biting his nails. "And stop biting your nails, you've got a very nice colour on them."
"Is babcia (granny) here?"
"Mum texted they're close to the gate. Jeff, was kind enough to go there and pick them up so they wouldn't get in any trouble."
"Good, good, good. can- can you come backstage? I think I'd like some ted talk before the show," he said quietly, smile growing on his face. "And some kisses, too."
"Give me 10 minutes, I'll find that kind guard and ask him to guide me. I can't remember when to turn right."
"I'll wait for you. I love you."
"I love you."
Harry got up from the couch and started pacing from one wall to the other. His hands were trembling, getting sweaty. He couldn't remember when was the last time he felt this nervous before start of the show. Not wembley or Slane Castle were as nerve wrecking as Warsaw. He knew it perfectly that it wasn't because of the city or the country. Well, it partially was.
It was YN's home show. But also her whole family was just outside the gates or already walking down the hallways to get to their seats (VIP of course, besides YN's younger cousins that wanted the front row, barricade experiance). And probably the most important guests for Harry - YN's grandparents, especially her granny. A sweet 92-year-old lady that started learning english and using an iPhone to be able to talk and contact Harry. A lady who bought his heart with sweet butter biscuits that no one could replicate. A lady that listened and then learned his whole three albums for this day - the day she would finally see him play live.
So he was terrified to disappoint her.
"What if i mess up the lyrics?" he asked YN when she finally came to the greenroom, he had been pacing in.
"Then she will sing it to you."
"But what if she won't like hearing me live? I mean, it's- it's a possibility. What? Why are you giggling. I'm really stressed here, my darling."
"I'm so sorry." She kissed the crown of his head. "It's just that you're afraid of impossibility. There is no way she would laugh at you or be disappointed in you." YN stroke his hair, gently massaging it, bringing Harry peace.
"You sure?"
"I've never been more sure in my life."
"She'll like it." Harry reassured himself aloud.
"Yes, she will. Not only she loves you like her own grandchild, she's also nervous. This morning she facetimed me to help her pick up an outfit. She bought quite a few things after she saw some pictures of your fans on the internet." She laughed, finding it quite adorable.
"Did she?" Harry lifted his head from yn's lap. "Oh, bless her."
They spent the next few minutes in silence, letting Harry's heart to calm down and steady its pace.
"Wait, did you say that you've never been more sure about something in your life?" Harry eventually broke the silence.
"Yes?"
"So, you had doubts when I asked you to marry me?"
"Oh god."
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harryloveontour
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harryloveontour first look at harry at tonight's show in warsaw! it wasn't even the first minute, and he was already seen sending kisses towards yn!
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harrysmylife and it was not only for yn!!! her whole family is with her. even her grandparents.
⤷ stylesbabie omg, they must love him soooo so much
ynandhmyparents they are the sweetest couple i've ever seen, like ever
harrysmoustache is anybody live??? i need to experience this show, i have tissues ready
⤷ hArrysbtch hslotwarsaw is live and it's in such a good quality
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hslotwarsaw
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hslotwarsaw this is harry's reaction to seeing yn dancing with one of the fans during adore you!!!
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harryupdates omg, his reaction was priceless!!!!
hArrysbtch the way this man said "back off, my friend. she is taken. ring and all. no, no, no." he wa ready to jump from that stage to stop that man from hugging yn!
⤷ stylesbabie i mean, did that guy asked yn if that was okay?
⤷ lovingharry he did, you could see it on the videos that people already posted
harrysmoustache he's like "excuse me, man. that is my fiancée. MY fiancée."
harrysmylife oh, this concert just started and i know it's gonna be the best of all times
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lately you've been on my mind
honey, ah ah ah
The whole stadium was singing back to him. He could describe the feeling it awoke in him each time. It was similar but never the same. Especially today, everything seemed to touch him deeper, better, and clearer.
"Someone's stealing your girl, Styles"
Harry heard someone in his earpiece, making him stop singing. He played it cool by putting the mic towards the audience simultaneously looking for YN.
It didn't take him long. She was right where she promised to be. The space designed specifically for her family, not enclosed but clearly separated from the main audience. There she was dancing and laughing with some middle-aged guy.
Harry was a jealous person in nature. In particular when it came to his partners. He wasn't proud of it, and he definitely didn't have any way to believe that YN would sprint after every Tom, Dick and Harry. Every day she showed him how in love she was, there could be no way.
But here he was. Jaw clenched, not singing and glaring towards his fiancée.
"Harry, everything alright?" Again the voice in his earpiece.
YN stopped dancing, feeling that unmistakable eyes almost glued to her. Oh, it didn't look good.
"How you doin' Warsaw?!" Harry finally screamed into the microphone. The squeals, screems and whistles gave him all he wanted - distraction.
And when YN smiled at him so lovingly and sweetly, it was enough to carry him till this moment.
"Your sign says 'help me shoot my shot'. Is this person with you?" Harry asked the fan who was holding the very neat and colourful sign. Somehow he didn't recognise him from just a minutes ago.
"She's here."
"Wow! Your voice is so loud, man. But how do you want me to help you when she's here. She's next to you somewhere?"
And then if it would have been possible, Harry's jaw would touch the floor. That guy shamelessly pointed towards YN. Now he remembered.
People screamed so loudly, because everything was shown on the biggest screen behind the stage.
"Well, back off, my friend. She is taken. Ring and all. No, no, no." Harry tried to play it cool by laughing at the end. "And, as far as I'm concerned, we're not lookin' for the third one in the relationship."
Now the stadium was laughing along with the long 'ouuuu'.
"How did you know you'd be close to YN, anyway?"
"Manifesting."
"Manifesting?" Harry repeated so everyone could know the answer. "Well, you're doing it right, so I suggest betting or playing lottery. And, to be honest most importantly," he pressed. "Not stealing someone else's future wife!"
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harryupdates
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harryupdates harry introducing yn's grandmother at tonight's show.
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hArrysbtch she is the sweetest lady, my god. i love her even though i don't know her 🥹
harrysmoustache "this show is very special to me. here are my future parents in law as well as grandparents. hello, hi!" i still can't comprehend harry being engaged...
harrysmylife "granny, how are you doing? do you need anything? no? you're good? excellent! that's what I wanted to hear. please give it up for granny!" and the way he started clapping both of his hands and the whistling???? and then speaking in polish i think???
⤷ polisharry Yes! He said 'dziękuję, babcia że tu jesteś' which means 'thank you granny for being here
harryfan82 this show is sooo good
outofstyles did anybody see harry constantly looking towards that area, where yn's whole family is?
⤷ harrysmoustache absolutely! i can't imagine how nervous he is, considering it's the first (at least that we know of) time he sings in front of them
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hArrysbtch
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hArrysbtch HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO PLAY MEDICINE BUT THE BAND STARTED IT WITHOUT HIS KNOWLEDGE. I CANT. HES REACTION IS PRICELESS. HES TERRIFIED.
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harryupdates he didn't even started it on cue, thank god the audience was so pumped up for it and sang it!
harrysmoustache "no no no no no. we weren't supposed to play it. sarah!" the fear and confusion in his voice was everything. they got him good.
outofstyles "you're gonna pay for it. all of you." this is so funny
stylesbabie the funniest thing is how when he started singing it, he was all touchy and sexy. it was like he forgot about the problem in the moment...
godstyles "granny's terrified" HARRY YOU DIDN'T PUT THE MICROPHONE DOWN, MAN
⤷ harrysmoustache but they showed granny being all smiley during medicine. i think she enjoyed it just like any other song!
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harryupdates
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harryupdates harry smiling while talking to yn's little cousin (yn was translating everything to her and then to harry). she then opened as it was with "harry, I wanna say goodnight to you"
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hArrysbtch i hate kids but that baby was so cute i wish i could squish her cheeks
harrysmoustache he was all smiles and gentle eyes while talking to her, he loves this family so much
styleslove i love when people are so open with their feelings for their partner's family
harrysfan081 so cute
stylesbabie give this man a child already
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hslotwarsaw
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hslotwarsaw harry after splashing water at yn and her family at the end of the show!
and with this photo, we're ending our 'photo-stream'. thank you all for helping us prepare all of the fan projects and thank you for welcoming harry so warmly in our country! till the next time!
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harryupdates you did amazing job!
hArrysbtch yn's granny got so happy at the moment harry decided to threaten her with a bottle
stylesbabie granny had a water gun and threatened harry back with it!!!!! it was soo cute, he run away laughing
harrysfan88 best show so far
harrysmylife "this one of the loudest show i can remember. and i know why. my fiancée's whole family is here. and believe me, they can make so much noise it's impressive!" my friend stood next ro them and confirmed, they were so loud during the whole set list!!
harryshands i can't imagine better way for harry to cope with this amount of pressure. he delivered one of the best performances in his life - sound and entertain wise. truly amazing
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"Harry, my sweet boy."
Harry turned 180° from the conversation he was having with Jeff to see the face of the lady with the heavy accent he knew so well.
"Babcia! (granny)" he exclaimed, jogging towards her and ambracing in a tight hug. "How I've missed you."
"You saw me yesterday, you."
"I know." He pulled away, still having his arm around granny. "But it's already been almost 24 hours. A long time, don't you think?"
Granny shook her head with a smile and placed her head on Harry's chest. She was rather exhausted from all the lights, noise, dancing and standing up for almost three hours.
"You wanna sit down, granny?" YN asked, squeezing her grandmothers arm in a way showing her she was nearby.
"Oh, yes. My legs aren't 20 years old as much as I would like them to be."
The three of them sat down on the green couch and talked about the show. Granny was impressed with all the fans having the time of their life, but specifically the ones that seemed to take in the show on their own terms.
"There were those two girls just hugging the whole time and singing softly all the songs. It was so lovely," granny explained.
"It's funny how they were two of very little to not use their phone during the show," commented someone in the room.
And before harry got the chance to defend people taking photos and recording, granny sat up straight.
"Well, in the 60s, my father took me to see The Beetles and I wish i had a camera then. It was such a magical moment that I would want it to be not only engraved in my mind but also on paper. I took so many photos of you, Harry. I need you to print them so I can show them to my friends on the next bingo evening."
YN nodded her head with a smile, not only planning to print the photos but putting the whole concert that harry recorded on the CD. Granny loved watching that type of thing on her telly.
"Harry," granny spoke up after a few moments. "I do have a question however."
"Ask away, granny."
"That song, medicine. What is it about?"
1K notes · View notes
feyascorner · 4 months
Text
3 | The Fangs Between Us
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summary. You hate him, you think. You want to hate him, at the very least.
“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”
“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke."
warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard, large chunks of italicized texts are flashbacks
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
parts. TFBU masterlist
a/n. redemption arc is coming i swear :) this is a whopping 4.7k i got kinda carried away but oh well,, Thank you so much for your comments on these they make my day and i appreciate each one<3
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Dance upon the stars tonight
Smile and pain will fade away
“And what might our dear bard be working so passionately on?”
You look up from your notebook, ceasing the messy scribbling of lyrics into its tattered pages. Astarion perches himself beside you, the flames of the campfire flickering in the reflection of his eyes as you stop humming and raise a cautious brow. A vampire spawn. You’d never seen one in person–-only had you heard of them in your childhood tales of the spawn that would sweep away naughty children if they didn’t finish their vegetables. Up close, you can almost see his fangs protruding from the grin he's constantly wearing.
You wonder if it’s a genuine one.
“That bard at the grove today,” you recall. “Alfira? I’m trying to finish the lyrics and write them out for her.”
“Is that so? Surely you’re receiving some sort of payment for these gracious services?”
You train your eyes back onto the pages, shaking your head. “I’m doing this for fun. Her song is beautiful. It just needs—” you squint. “--adjustment.”
He laughs, and you can see the fangs clearly now. They’re sharper than you expected them to be. “I believe that’s a drastic understatement, my dear. My heart felt for those poor squirrels. I’m quite willing to bet that they have an aversion to bards now.”
“And you’re suddenly a musician yourself?”
“It doesn’t take a musician to recognize poor singing, darling Tav,” he returns. “And considering I’ve spent the past few days listening to your music, I’m sure you’ll understand why I considered it such an abomination.”
You narrow your eyes. “I thought you didn’t like me–or my music.”
“You? I'm still deciding,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes. “But I must say that I’m growing rather fond of that lyre of yours. Have you had it for long?”
You give him a sidelong glance before answering slowly. “I’ve had it for ages. Practically when I just started.”
“Explains itself then, I suppose.”
“And you?” you watch as he leans back on his palms. “Do you have any other talents to offer to our companions, or is it just your teeth?”
“Now, don’t be so cruel, dear,” he smiles wider. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re rather fond of them as well. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring all the time.”
“I’m on guard,” you clarify.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
You’re not sure if you can sleep with one eye open, much less both of them closed. You’re not sure if you trust him at all, either, but as he stares up at the starry sky, simply listening to the crackling of the campfire, you decide you’d rather save yourself the energy for what awaits tomorrow.
“Why did you do that earlier?” you find yourself asking, and he replies by glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“Do what?”
“Save Wyll from that goblin arrow,” you mumble. “I thought you didn't care about any of us.”
“And what gives you that impression?”
You deadpan, staring at him with lidded eyes and he laughs out loud. It sounds more genuine than anything else he’s offered so far. It's nice.
“It’s a simple transaction, dear. One where I receive protection in turn for the occasional aid I can give with my own blade.”
You squint at him, but you see no signs of deception. So instead, you simply nod and resume scribbling into your notebook, softly humming to yourself alongside the lyrics. And when you halt, stuck on a particular lyric that you can’t seem to remember, you hear him shift, standing himself back up to retreat to his tent.
“Something about faith and care comes next if my memory serves,” is all he says before striding away. While you watch him in confusion, you click your tongue and try to focus again. And when you look down at your page, you remember the rest of the words.
Somehow, you feel the corners of your lips lift.
“As much as I’d love for this to be a charming, long-awaited reunion, one of the parties imposes a danger to the other.”
You wince at the sarcasm dripping from Gale’s voice. Duke Ravengard’s expression remains solemn, unmoving like a stone, while your companion pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We can’t harbor a vampire spawn in our home. We’re supposed to be finding them, not keeping them!”
You hate the irony of the statement because the camp you’d spent so many months in with an uninvited guest in your head, had also been your home. One where you spent your nights in a vampire spawn’s tent. It’s not so different, you keep telling yourself. But you’re painfully aware that the Duke only knows a sugar-coated version of the falling out between you and said vampire. He doesn’t know how his son had to tear Astarion away from you and how your voice had been sore for weeks afterward.
“As much as I have my own opinions with allying with a vampire spawn,” the Duke stares at Astarion warningly. “Wyll did say this spawn saved his life while your party ventured together. For that, I'm willing to see reason if he’s cooperative, rather than restrain him with the Fists.”
You never thought much of it until now. With how many life threatening experiences you and your companions had come across, it felt natural to save one another. At first, it had been out of necessity—fear that one person would turn into an illithid. Yet, with time, you'd all grown fond of each other, one way or another.
You think back to when Astarion had saved Wyll and wonder if that part of him is still in there. Maybe it was never there at all. Maybe it had been another one of his manipulation tactics that you're so prone to falling for.
Gods, you're hopeless.
The wizard standing beside you sighs irritably. “But that was before he tried to squeeze the life out of-”
“How long do we need to keep him?”
Gale balks at your words. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”
“Just until we’re able to locate the rest of the spawns spread throughout the city, which you kindly decided not to mention in our last conversation.”
You shoot Gale a glare, silently questioning if he’d been the one to confess the existence of the spawns underground, but he’s too busy scanning over Astarion, who’s mindlessly fidgeting with his knife. The said spawn seems to feel your gaze, because he glances at you, then grins.
The bastard is smiling.
“The man you killed this morning is a spawn himself, yes?” the Duke clarifies. “There have been numerous reports the past few days about strange figures with fangs throughout the city—I’d known they’d existed, but to the numbers that are being reported…”
“You couldn’t have possibly believed myself to be the only spawn around?” Astarion laughs bitterly. “I do not wish to go hungry, Duke, but I don’t need nearly as many bodies that’s been showing up—assuming that I did drink from anyone, of course.”
Ravengard ignores him, speaking as if he’s not there. “I could still have him detained if that is what you wish. We can continue as we have and search for the spawn without his help.”
You know it’s a fruitless effort if last night has told you anything.
“You don’t even have evidence that I drank from a single person in this entire bloody city!” Astarion spits back, rolling his neck in exasperation.
“No,” you purse your lips, finally looking up. “I’ll be responsible for him.”
Gale clears his throat alarmingly. “Now, dear leader, let’s have a private conversation before we make any hasty decisions, yes? Surely, we don’t have to decide right this moment.”
And while you open your mouth to respond that no, you won’t have Astarion rot away in some gross cell, the Duke nods. “Very well.”
Gale pushes you to the corner of the room, with his face clearly paling in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re joking. You want someone who nearly strangled you to death sleeping in the room next to yours?”
“Ravengard wants us to find out where the other spawn are hiding, and the only lead we have is sitting right there,” you defend yourself. “Throwing Astarion into a dirty cell won’t do anything to convince him to help us.”
“The Duke doesn’t know what he did to you!”
“He doesn’t need to. Astarion’s made it very clear he’s not going to spill any information if the Duke is the one asking, and we need a lead. I nearly died last night, Gale. I want to avoid that if I can.”
His eyes soften just a bit, but it’s enough. With a loud sigh, he scrunches his nose. “And you’re sure you’re not doing this for more personal reasons?”
At this, you pause. Your eyes waver, and the look Gale gives you is almost soul-crushing if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you’ve already hit rock bottom. You know this is not a good idea. You know that being so close to him again after so many months is not a good idea, especially when you’ve just finally begun your journey to forget him.
You curse the gods above for your luck.
The silence prompts Gale to speak. “I’ll tell the Duke we can’t involve ourselves in this.”
“Gale,” your voice almost cracks. “Please.”
He doesn’t want to agree, you can tell. Any sane person wouldn’t invite a bloodthirsty vampire spawn who’s willing to use his own hands to kill his so-called lover into their home. You want to think that you’re void of bias, but you know it’s a pathetic attempt to reassure yourself. Still, the expression on your face must be quite the sight because Gale takes one look, glances at Astarion, then slumps his shoulders. You’ve won.
You hadn’t even realized the door had been swung open, where your other companions had been standing, taking one look at Astarion then to you. While Gale wallows in his own defeat, you turn to the others, eyes glimmering with a kind of hope that they haven’t seen in months.
“Your judgment’s gotten us this far,” Shadowheart sighs. “We’d be fools not to trust it now.”
Lae’zel clicks her tongue. “My blade is ready to slit his throat if need be. Just command me, and I shall.”
“We aren’t going to try to kill him," you retort.
“It’s only right to return the favor."
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Dinner is awkward. You’re finally getting to try Gale’s stew, but it’s hard to focus on the taste when all you can feel is the searing stare of the person sitting across from you. He only has a goblet of crimson liquid in the same shade as his eyes in front of him, and it remains untouched as he takes in the rest of the house.
“So,” Gale offers. “What have you been up to?”
It’s not much, but it’s better than sitting in complete silence.
“Wandering the streets at night, mostly. Oh, and murdering half the city, apparently,” Astarion lets out his usual high-pitched laugh at the end, and your fingers tighten around your spoon. Shadowheart glares at him through her lashes, and you think she may lunge at him any second. You want to think you wouldn't stop her.
You feel for her, really. Being the group’s cleric comes with its advantages but also with the unspoken burden of watching your companions in pain. She’d been the one to ensure Astarion hadn’t left long-lasting damage to your throat. She’d been the one to soothe your headaches and cast a sleeping spell on you in hopes it’ll allow you to rest longer than just a few hours. She’d also seen you nearly bleed out multiple times, one of which occurred mere hours ago.
The sudden scrape of Lae’zel’s chair being pushed back catches your attention. She stands, lifting her bowl with her. “The air here is suffocating. Sort out your differences before I sort them out for you.”
The rest of you collectively nod. She doesn’t say anything else before leaving the room.
“The room at the end of the hallway upstairs is yours,” Shadowheart says finally. “Don’t bother me if you need anything else.”
She stands up as well, leaving her bowl in the sink before pacing up the stairs to her own quarters.
Somehow, the atmosphere is even worse now. You don’t dare lift your eyes from your stew, and you honestly hope it explodes before you have to sit here and drink all of it in this silence. Gale, thankfully, does not leave. Instead, he sets down his utensil.
“I suggest we have a set of rules in place–for the sake of everyone occupying this home,” he clears his throat. You shoot him a questioning look, which he dusts off.
“Fine,” Astarion leans back in his chair, now swirling the goblet of blood in his hand. “What do you have in mind?”
“No drinking. From anyone here.”
You blink a few times, then hear Astarion hum in acknowledgment. “Shame. Though your blood was vile anyway.”
“And don’t cause any trouble. One of us will go with you when you need to drink, so you can hunt for whatever animal you prefer these days. Otherwise, unless we say so, you’ll remain here.”
“Why, this sounds almost identical to a prison. Looking for a job as a warden, Gale? A midlife crisis, perhaps. Does wizard life not suit you anymore?”
“It suits me plenty, thanks,” Gale snorts. “We’ll be out during the day to rebuild the city, so you’ll have to entertain yourself in your own room. Don’t touch anything—especially my stuff.”
Astarion grins. “That almost sounds like an invitation.”
The wizard then turns to you. “And you? Do you have any other rules you’d like to add?”
You finally lift your head from the stew, looking back and forth between the two before shaking your head while pushing your chair back. For someone who’d imagined aimlessly for months about seeing your former lover again, you can’t seem to look him in the eye for fear of what you might feel. “I’m going out.”
“I’m going to take that as a no.”
Wordlessly, you pace toward the door, refusing to look back to suppress the urge to sprint back into his arms. You don’t know what you were thinking just a few hours ago, but this was not going to end well. If you couldn’t manage a simple dinner sitting across from him, what could you manage?
You’re in such a rush that you forget to bring anything besides your wallet.
By the time you’re on your way back to the house hours later, you have a backpack shoved full of fabrics with nails and a hammer to go along with it. As you pass by the taverns, you hear music playing from inside, alongside a few cheers and what you can only assume to be a crash of chairs as people applaud. 
You can’t help but peer through the window as you walk past, where a bard merrily plays on his drum, lightening the mood of the entire tavern—even the bartender smiles along as he plays tunes you’ve heard a million times before. And while your hands itch for a lyre—to feel the string snap against your fingertips—you know no good will come of it. You’ll only sit before the instrument, your hands unable to find the emotions to exert in the form of notes. 
As you stare at the bard, you remind yourself you’ve long given up on that kind of life.
So instead, you continue your way to the Highberry’s home. When you knock on the door, a very weary Cora Highberry greets you with bags under her eyes, but a calm smile still stretching on her lips nonetheless. She steps out of the way, inviting you in, and you do so.
“You didn’t have to, dear,” she says as she takes a bag of the city’s finest fruits from your hands. “The neighbors have been oh so gracious to us. They’re helping the children so much, I couldn’t possibly ask for more.”
“I was just passing by, that’s all,” you offer. “I wanted to check on you since I left a bit abruptly last time.”
“Oh, dear, you know how to make a woman feel special. It’s been terrible, really. I haven’t gone so long with my husband in ages…” she laughs, wiping at her swollen eyes. “But we were an old couple anyways…I had some time to prepare my emotions. I just didn’t think he’d go like that.”
You nod as she hands you a mug of hot tea. “But never mind that. I’ve spent the past two weeks talking about nothing but myself, so I’m quite tired. What about you, dear?”
“Me?”
“You look like death themselves,” she frowns. “I’ve lived for quite long…I recognize that heartbroken face anywhere. Has something happened?”
The way she’s staring at you—it’s different than pity. You can’t quite identify it, but she smiles again. It’s not the kind of smile most people give you—not one of anticpation, not one of gratefulness, but just a regular, old smile. And it makes your shoulders untense just the slightest before they tense again. You take a swig of the tea, nearly burning your throat in the process as you set the mug down, splitting a pathetic smile. “No, I’m okay. Just--tired.”
Very, very tired. Not physically, no, but tired of the indecisiveness that is your heart.
Her face falls softly. “How troubling it must be to have the weight of the city on your shoulders."
Before you can answer, there’s a loud thud upstairs. She notices your alarm and shakes her head. “Ah, must be Berry. She’s one of the younger children, and she’s been taking my husband’s death quite hard. Please excuse me, dear. I need to go put her back to sleep.”
And with that, you’re left alone on the first floor of the building again. You contemplate staying to say your farewells but the cries from upstairs convince you otherwise. Taking one last swig from the mug, you gather your things and leave.
When you get back home, it’s well into the night, an hour or two after midnight, you’d think. None of the lights are on, so the first thing you do is light a candle when you step through the door, dropping your backpack onto the dining room table. Dunking all your materials out, you take the hammer and start your work.
There’s something soothing about the darkness outside, with the way nothing seems to exist besides you and your own thoughts in a city that overflows with a sense of community. You try not to think about the man most likely reading in his room just a floor above you and focus on hanging the fabrics in front of all of the windows. The cloths are mismatched in color, and your hammer work is nothing more than sufficient, but it’ll do for now. At least until you can get actual curtains installed.
You worry that some of the fabrics aren’t thick enough to absorb all the sunlight, so you layer another fabric on top of it until you’re sure that even your candlelight cannot be seen from outside. Why you’re going so far for him, you do not know. You prefer to assure yourself that you need him to help stop the spawn from devouring the entire city, but even in your own thoughts, it sounds like a lie.
You wonder if he cares nearly as much as you do. He probably doesn’t.
You hate him, you think for the millionth time today. You want to, at the very least.
You flinch when a splinter in the wooden wall splits your skin open, forming a drop of blood on your index finger. Curse the heavens above, nothing was going right today. You quickly reach for a towel but nearly jump when you hear his voice from the stairs. 
“You really need to stop with that habit of yours.”
You spin around, and he’s already at the foot of the stairs, reaching to grab a towel from the kitchen. But you’re faster, snatching it away and pressing it over your hand while he raises both his own, imitating a surrender of getting any closer. You can’t look at him in the eye—you don’t want to either. “What habit?”
“You’re speaking to me now?” he raises a brow, and you turn away again after shooting him a glare. “I’d thought you’d avoid me forever—scurrying off like a squirrel whenever I step into the room.”
You should avoid him forever. But the words don’t reach your tongue, and you choose to ignore him.
He doesn’t budge. “I meant bleeding around me.”
“What?”
“Every time I see you, you always seem to be bleeding.”
You frown at him. “Maybe you just prefer being around me when I’m bleeding.”
“You might be right." You think maybe he’s done with this painfully awkward conversation until you see him staring at the windows covered with random pieces of fabric, and suddenly, you feel embarrassment creep up your skin. You realize how bizarre your actions must appear in someone else’s eyes, staying up to the break of dawn so that he’ll be able to traverse someplace outside the confines of his own room…
It might make him think you care, and the worst part is that a part of you does.
“I hope you don’t expect me to thank you, darling.”
The nickname feels like a stab to your heart, haunting, even, but you do your best to brush it off.
“For what?” you manage to force out through clenched teeth.
“The cell they would’ve thrown me into is nothing different from trapping me in that room, I’m afraid,” he laughs bitterly, and you want to crawl into a hole from how cold his voice sounds. Distant. Like how he’d sounded the day you found him next to his nautiloid pod. “But I suppose I should be grateful for having a bed instead of having to spend my days rotting away on the dirty floor?”
You bite your bottom lip, brows furrowing. “I don't expect anything from you.”
But you do. Not quite an expectation, but a lingering wish that maybe you can heal. It's pathetic, even in your own eyes and surely everyone else's, but you can't be bothered to care.
It pisses you off a bit. How he seems perfectly unfazed while you continue to drown in your own feelings.
“Are you just here to taunt me, or is there a reason for this conversation?” you snap. This is not quite how you wanted your reunion to go.
He raises a brow. “Taunt you? I'm only answering questions you're afraid to ask.”
“I don't need to know anything about you,” you grit through your teeth. “You left my mind the second you abandoned us.”
What a poor, wishful lie.
“Ha!” It doesn't really sound like a laugh—more a scoff of disbelief. It's like he knows what you're thinking, and for a split second, it feels like there's a tadpole in your head again. “Of course you think I'm the villain of your precious heroic tale! Honestly darling, the irony just writes itself.”
You fight the urge to scowl, but you're not sure if you're successful. You find yourself gripping onto the towel harder, teeth clenched as your chest tightens just hearing his words. You truly hate that he seems to care less than you—it’s like he's not even taking you seriously.
And that damned nickname.
It feels like talking to the Astarion you first met—one who’s only intentions were to use you—but this time, you don't think it’s a mask. He doesn't want anything more from you. Only your own suffering from taking the power that would have made him untouchable.
“So tell me, dear, do you wish for me to grovel at your feet?”
Your eyes widen, and the term of endearment that once made your cheeks flush only makes you feel sick. “What?”
“Do you expect me to drop to my knees, begging for your forgiveness?” he says again, eerily composed while you struggle to come up with words. “Perhaps I would have if we were still staying in that camp. Put on a show, even."
You frown, setting your hammer down on the counter. “I’ve never made you grovel. I’ve never made you do anything.”
“Maybe not directly, no, you’re too kind of a soul to do so,” there’s venom lacing the words that feel nothing short of a lie. Somehow, he’s still smiling. “Instead, you made me beg for your help. You accepted—made it feel like I had a choice. Then tore it away just the same, in the cruelest way possible. Impressive, really. I didn't expect such dramatic sins from you.”
The way he looks at you, words dripping with sarcasm, makes you want to melt into the floor, ceasing to exist as a whole. But alas, you continue standing like a deer in headlights, unsure of how to respond. You look down to see the towel stained with your blood and inhale deeply, watching the dark sky lighten with daybreak through the window. “The sun’s rising.”
His smile drops, something foreign flickering in his eyes. He suddenly steps toward you, and as soon as he gets within two feet, you find yourself stepping backward, your fingers tightening around the hammer. You have no idea if you'd even be able to use it, but it's better than digging your nails into your palms.
It doesn't go unnoticed.
“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”
You don't want to think he'd truly kill you. Not really, but your mind flashes back to the look in his eyes when he had his hands wrapped around your lifeline, and you grip the hammer tighter, heartbeat pounding impossibly fast.
“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke,” you mutter.
His lip twitches, and he steps back bitterly. You feel like you can breathe again.“Ah, yes, that.”
You swear your stomach drops to your feet at the mere suggestion he’d forgotten what haunts your nightmares every night, forcing you to lurch from your rest in a cold sweat, hands shaking, and having nobody to turn to for comfort. He couldn't be that cruel…could he? You want to scream at him, punch him, kick him, tell him he’s not being fair. You want to defend yourself, say that all you’ve ever wanted was for him to be safe, but even that feels like too much when he’s giving you so little.
“Very well, I’ll indulge you,” he grins again. You realize your time is running out, the sun beginning to peer out from the horizon. “Why did you assume responsibility for me? I can’t imagine why you’d want such a terrible foe in your life living right next door of your own sanctuary.”
For the city, you tell yourself. For Cora's husband and the poor victims drained off their life, all alone in the darkest corners of Baldur's Gate. “...I didn’t do it for you.”
He searches your face for something, his eyes narrowing. He's waiting for you to continue, but there's no more fuel in the tank, and now you just want to sleep for a very long time. You assume he comes up empty when the corners of his lips fall, and he turns to climb up the stairs. Sunlight hits your back as your eyes trail him in his steps, and it does nothing to warm how cold it feels in the room.
“That much I’m aware,” he stops his steps for a brief moment. You barely catch it, but it's there. “Terribly aware.”
And when he finally leaves, you bury your face into your hands.
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"I'm nervous."
"What for?"
"What if the ascension goes wrong? Are you sure we should really be doing this, Astarion?"
He brushes your hair out of your face, cupping both your cheeks in his hands. "We'll be okay, my love. I will still be here, and so will you. I'll just finally have enough power to protect what I care about."
He sees the hesitance in your eyes and leans his forehead against yours. You melt into his touch, placing your hands atop his.
"So please, stand beside me for this," he pleads.
And despite the way your intuition screams at you otherwise, despite the way your very being begs you to pull away, you nod, sealing your fate.
"I'll be right here."
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moonhoures · 9 months
Text
baby
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pairing: jake (enhypen) + reader (fem.)
genre: non-idol!au, college!au (barely), smut
warnings: explicit smut, 18+, minors do not interact, friends with benefits, masturbation (fem.), oral (fem. receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl!), pull out method, pet name “baby” for reader
word count: ~4.3K
a/n: based heavily off of the lyrics of madison beer’s song “baby”! hope you enjoy 😚
posted: august 7th, 2023
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One downside of living with a roommate was the lack of alone time. You liked having your privacy and found yourself looking forward to the times when you got the apartment to yourself. Fortunately enough, your roommate had been working with their friend on a project for a class and the due date was tomorrow. So, they had told you they were going to stay the night at their partner’s dorm for the night so they could work on finishing their project. You did a good job at hiding how elated you were about this information, but you were already planning what you would spend the night doing.
They left right before dinner time, so you ordered some take-out for yourself. You dined in the living room, watching an episode of your favorite TV show. Then you went to take a shower, not worried about taking too long because your roommate wouldn’t be waiting on you like usual. You let your music play as loud as you wanted, and you sang at the top of your lungs. You walked from the bathroom to your room, draped only in your towel, and decided to put on a cute sleep set you had gotten from Victoria’s Secret.
With your hair still damp, and a sheen on your skin, you stood in front of the full length mirror at the corner of your room. You admired the set on you. It had sat at the bottom of your pajama drawer for months, forgotten, until tonight. You forgot how cute it looked on you. The black, silky material felt so good on you, and the floral trim hugged the top of your breasts nicely. You looked too damn good to keep to yourself.
You took your phone from the top of your dresser and opened the camera app, snapping some sultry pictures of yourself. You didn’t have any intentions of sending them to anyone in that moment, but you never know. The opportunity could arise someday where you could send them to someone.
After your makeshift photoshoot, you went back to the living room to watch a movie and enjoy some dessert. The movie you threw on was one you had seen many times before, so you were only vaguely paying attention. About an hour into it you found yourself growing bored. You switched the movie to one you had never seen before, hoping it would keep your attention this time.
Spoiler alert: it didn’t. Another hour passed, and you were growing restless. You felt uncomfortable despite being in the most comfortable pajamas, on the coziest couch, in the plushest blanket you had. Then, as the two main leads in the rom-com that you were half-enjoying started to make out, it dawned on you. You were horny.
You reclined yourself length-wise on the couch, sliding your hand under the silky shorts, feeling your folds. The pads of your fingers started to rub up and down the skin, attempting to warm them up. After a minute or so, you began to move your fingertips around your clit. Your body felt like it was heating up from the stimulation, but after several minutes there was practically no progress. Something didn’t feel right, and you weren’t sure exactly what. You wet the pads of your middle and ring fingers, going in for a second attempt, massaging your labia. You felt yourself growing wetter, but the usual feeling of excitement just wasn’t there. Maybe it’s just one of those nights, you thought to yourself. It just didn’t feel as good as you wanted it to. It felt incomplete.
For a moment you contemplated calling the one person that you knew could help you ease the tension you were riddled with. Then you decided, fuck it.
You grabbed your phone from beside you, opening it and going straight to the contacts. Your fingertips expertly swiped right to his name, tapping it before bringing the phone to your ear. While the dialing tone rang a couple times, you twirled the drawstrings of your sleep shorts. The line picked up and you instinctively sat up straighter.
“Someone better be dying.”
You smirked to yourself, “You know I wouldn’t call you this late unless something was wrong.”
There was a muffled sound from his end, like he was sitting up in bed. For a second you worried you might’ve woken him up—only for a second, though, “So, what’s wrong, ________?”
“I’m bored. And I really need you to come keep me company.”
Jake wasn’t stupid, far from it, actually. He was one of the smartest people you knew. It was one of the many things that made him so attractive.
“So you’re horny? _______, you do know it’s almost one in the morning, right?”
You tried to stifle a laugh, but the smile was still in your voice when you spoke, “Come on, Jake. I need you so bad. It’s been so long since you came over.”
Jake scoffed, “You were at my dorm three nights ago.”
“Yeah, that’s why I said ‘since you came over’. Keep up, Sim.”
The corner of your lips lifted further into a hopeful smile when there was a long pause. He hadn’t said “no” yet, which is a really good sign. The odds of him coming over were highly in your favor.
“You can’t just masturbate or something? I have class in the morning, so I really need to sleep.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’ve tried. It doesn’t feel as good as you do. And I have class tomorrow, too. We could always skip, though. My roommate won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, so we could always have round two in the morning.”
Another, longer pause. You were so close.
“You’re crazy.”
He just needed one more push, then he would surely come running. You had an idea.
“I might be, but I always keep you coming back for more. If it sways your decision, I took some really cute pictures earlier. Fresh out of the shower,” while you spoke, you opened your text messages with him and quickly selected some of the mirror photos you took. You sent them without any hesitation, your heart pumping a little faster when they were immediately marked as ‘Read’.
A small groan emitted from him, and that’s when you knew you had won him over. He was coming, whether he liked it or not. Thank God you took those pictures.
“I’ll be there in ten.”
“The door will be open for you, as always,” you sing-songed to him before hanging up. You happily kicked your feet beneath the blanket that shrouded you. As stated before, there were many things to love about Jake, and one of them was how absolutely down bad for you he was. Sure, you two weren’t dating or anything; you two had just been casually hooking up for the past five months. But that didn’t stop him from practically worshipping you. He loved everything about you. He agreed to your decision to stay as friends with benefits because he figured if that was the only way to have a relationship with you, then so be it.
Several minutes passed, and you got up to go back to your room while you waited for him to arrive. You laid on top of the duvet on your bed, propping yourself up against your pillows to get comfortable. Just the thought of Jake coming over alone made you even more horny. You were already imagining how the night would go. There was no doubt in your mind that he would ask—no, beg—to eat you out, like he usually did. So you looked forward to that.
His tongue always felt so good between your folds, lapping up the juices that leaked from you for him. Because it was always for him, and only him. That was his favorite part. You grew restless at the thought of him and how he would touch you. How long would you have to wait for him?
You figured you could get started now, returning your fingers back to your heat. This time it felt much better, but there was still that feeling of insufficiency. Still, you were determined to feel something. So you continued with a vigor, massaging your clit, chasing any semblance of a release. Your knees were twitching and your toes were flexing as you started to feel the smallest hint of an orgasm.
“You started without me?”
You could hear the pout before you saw it. You didn’t even realize you had closed your eyes until you opened them to see Jake in the doorway of your room, dressed in gray sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt. His blond hair was tousled (likely un-brushed) and confirmed that he had been sleeping when you called him.
“I couldn’t wait any longer,” you admitted, keeping a slow, steady rhythm on your folds. There was no shame anymore when it came to Jake. He had seen you in your most vulnerable states (sexually) so you weren’t embarrassed around him anymore. If anything, you knew it turned him on to watch you masturbate, “Are you just gonna stand and watch?”
Jake didn’t bother answering you; instead he just walked up to your bed and started to climb on. He had left his shoes at your front door before locking it behind him, so there was no hesitation. He knew exactly what he wanted, and his eyes were locked on it, covered in the thin, black, silky material. His mouth was already watering as he moved on hands and knees up your bed between your legs. He could practically taste you already.
Your boy toy was stopped in his tracks as your foot rested on the top of his shoulder, keeping him from moving any further. His eyebrows scrunched together and his lips formed into a pout as he sunk down in defeat. His glossy brown eyes resembled a wounded puppy when he looked up at you, looking for a reason as to why you were stopping him.
“Why are your clothes still on?” you asked simply, mirroring his pout. Though, while his was genuine, yours was mocking.
“I can take them off later,” he said, “I just wanna eat you out first.”
“At least take your shirt off, or you won’t be eating anything,” you set your foot back down on the bed and waited patiently for him to comply. He always did. He was a good boy.
Although impatient, he sat up and pulled the navy t-shirt over his torso and flung it behind him onto the floor. His hair stuck up in some places, but neither of you cared. He helped you tug your panties off before he got back down onto his stomach. His shoulders fit themselves between your knees, pushing them more to the side to make room. Honestly, that’s why you wanted his shirt off—to see his shoulders. They were broad and smooth, and you liked watching the way his back muscles flexed.
You watched as he sunk his face between the plush of your thighs, inhaling your familiar scent before pressing his flat tongue against your lips and dragging them up past your clit. You swore you heard him moan, but maybe you were hearing things.
Your legs shifted with his movements as he ate you out like a starved animal. If Jake was anything, it was a passionate pussy worshipper. He treated every time like it would be his last time. Sometimes you wondered if he was like this with every girl he hooked up with or just you.
“Shit, you taste so good,” he groaned after lapping at you for a few minutes. One glance confirmed that his lips were glossed with your juices. The tender skin of his lips were blushed red, “I would pay for pussy like this.”
“I should start charging you then,” you joked breathlessly, your fingers grasping the sheets beside you. His own fingers had begun pumping into you slowly, dragging in and out of your now-wet hole. Each thrust made you more sensitive.
“I would empty my bank account,” he replied without a second thought before diving back in, using his tongue to suckle your clit while his fingers sped up. Your legs tensed around his shoulders and your lower back arched a bit off the mattress. His name left your mouth in a breathy moan, making him go faster. He wanted your cum so bad it was driving him mad, “Cum for me, _______. Come on, baby.”
You clenched on his fingers, your orgasm following shortly after. Jake smiled to himself, watching his fingers pump and collect your cum. He never let any of it go to waste. He stuck his digits in his mouth, licking them clean before returning his tongue to your cunt. Any drop that he could reach was consumed. Even when he was done, he continued to lap at your wet folds, making your thighs twitch, attempting to close and shut him out. That’s when he knew you had enough, so he let up on you. He pressed simple, sweet kisses on the skin between your thighs and just above your groin.
“You taste like candy,” he said matter-of-factly as he sat back on his legs.
“Do I?”
“Mhm, the sweetest pussy ever,” he hummed with a smile that could only be described as pussy-drunk.
“The best you’ve ever had?” you asked, watching his eyes as he hovered over you, his bulge pressing against you through his sweatpants. Your jaw slacked open slightly as you felt him shift his hips subtly against yours.
“Of course, why do you think I always come back for more?”
“You’re right,” you chuckled, hands moving up to his face to bring him closer, “Be honest, though, I’m a handful.”
Just before his lips met yours he said, “That’s what hands are for.”
You hummed in satisfaction into his lips, tongues dancing together slowly, melting into each other with every flick. His hips continued to rut in between your legs, earning small whines and moans from you. You grasped at the top of his sweatpants, tugging at them. And even though he knew very well what you wanted, Jake enjoyed a good tease. So he ignored your want, continuing to leave a hickey below your jaw while you whined in frustration from attempting (and failing) to get his pants off.
A low chuckle erupted in his throat as he noticed you giving up, your hands resting on his waist, “You’re giving up that quick?”
“I’m not begging you to take your pants off,” you said with a hint of brattiness. Jake always called you that—a brat—and he knew it annoyed you. You didn’t want to be a brat, but you were one sometimes. In all honesty, he kind of liked when you acted like this. He liked when your lips pouted and you got impatient. It reminded him of how much you desired him. You two might not be dating, but it was always nice to feel wanted.
“You don’t have to beg,” he spoke so casually as he pulled back a little to look you in the eyes. He noticed a piece of hair clinging to your eyelash, so he moved it out of the way with his finger, “Just ask nicely, baby.”
“Please take your clothes off,” you batted your eyelashes for good measure. Jake’s favorite part of you—besides your pussy, of course—was your lips, but your eyes were a close second.
“Close enough.”
You internally celebrated as he got up to remove the gray sweatpants and his black boxers. You only had a moment to admire his erection before he was getting back on the bed. There usually wasn’t a certain power dynamic between the two of you in these situations—though Jake was very obviously more whipped for you and willing to do what you said. But when it came to positions, he was more likely the one to choose them. He didn’t even bother asking, just telling you or putting you into whatever position he wanted you in, and you usually didn’t mind. You simply propped yourself to his liking and enjoyed the experience, and tonight was no different.
His veiny hands gripped your thigh, and one look of his eyes let you know how he wanted you. You turned onto your stomach, and his hand pushed one of your knees up so that your cunt was spread for him. He got behind you, slightly straddling your leg that was still straight. His other knee was just behind yours that was bent. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him pumping his dick in preparation. The sounds were already wet, presumably from his spit, and boy were they arousing. You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.
“Ready?” he asked in that sultry accent of his.
“Mhm,” you were practically moaning already. You clenched at nothing, full of anticipation before you felt him at your entrance. You subconsciously sucked in your breath while he slowly slid into you. A small hiss escaped his lips as your tight walls hugged him, almost threatening to never let go—not that he wanted them to anyways.
“Fuck,” he whispered out, head thrown back as he bottomed out inside of you. A smirk played on the edge of his lips.
You barely gave him a moment to enjoy the feeling of just being inside of you before you started to push your butt up against him. His hands quickly caught you by the hips, stopping you and making you whine. He shook his head, but he gave you what you wanted nonetheless. He began to thrust into you at a moderate, shallow pace. His knees dug more into the mattress with every stroke, which progressively got quicker and more harsh as he went on. You never complained though, living for the roughness. You let out a string of groans and phrases that spurred him to keep going.
“How’s that, baby?” his voice sounded closer than before, and it was then you realized he was hovered over you now. His hands were digging into the bed beside each of your shoulders. His lips placed a kiss on your back just beside your neck.
“Perfect,” you replied. That was the only way you could think to describe it. The pace was great, a little fast but not too fast. Jake’s cock wasn’t too big or too small, it was just right; it was like it was made for you. And he knew just how to use it, hitting you so good it made you drool.
You were on the verge of tears from how good he felt, babbling some nonsense to him. He merely laughed softly at you, joking that you sounded dumb but that you “looked so cute like this”. You wondered what was so cute about you getting fucked to the point you could barely speak coherently or lift your head properly.
There was a pressure beginning to form in your lower tummy and you hummed, arching your back and stuffing your head into the pillow below you. You let out a load moan when he gripped your waist even tighter and deepened his thrusts, slowing down the slightest amount. You could feel him so well like this. You felt so full. So warm. While your moans were muffled by the pillow, his were let out proudly into the room.
“I love this pussy when it’s all mine,” he spoke breathlessly as he slowed down even further, treating every stroke like it had a purpose. He could feel you clenching around him, getting closer. It was driving him insane, “Isn’t that right, baby? All mine?”
You spoke but it was useless, he couldn’t hear anything because of the pillows. With the patience of an angel, he reached up with one hand to grip your hair. He gently pulled your head to the side and slid some of the stray hair away so he could see your face.
“What was that?” he teased, that damn smirk remaining on his lips.
“All yours,” you mumbled, glancing back at him.
His eyes seemed to darken from the contact, and he resumed picking up the pace just enough to get your orgasm closer again. You stuffed one of your arms between you and the bed, wedging it under your body until you felt your core. The moisture collecting on it from Jake’s thrusts was enough to help you massage your clit.
The room got to the point where it felt ten degrees hotter, and your body felt on fire, especially in your lower regions. The pressure had returned in full force, getting lower and lower. You begged Jake to make you cum, and who was he to deny you? He kept the pace up for you religiously, not faltering for even a second. Not even when your insides twitched and convulsed around him, seemingly wanting to anchor him inside of you. He grew even weaker when his name fell from your lips like a song and you came around him. Your insides grew slick, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you. It felt like pure ecstasy to him. He could die now and he’d die a happy man.
He was so lost in that feeling that he hadn’t had the realization that you did in that moment. Even in your orgasmic bliss, your eyes grew wide and your body went stiff.
“I’m gonna cum,” Jake whimpered, now sitting back on his knees while he continued to rut into your messy cunt with a new verve.
“Jake, we didn’t use a condom! You have to pull out,” you tried to stay calm, but your tone very much sounded panicked.
Still, Jake only hesitated for a moment before quickly thrusting again. He wanted—no, needed—to cum soon, “I will, ________, I promise.”
You had no reason to distrust him. After all, Jake was one of the very, very few guys you felt safe having sex with, even more so than some boyfriends you’ve had in the past. You two had only ever not used a condom once before, and that was also because you both forgot one. Luckily, Jake pulled out without you even having to ask, and he was really helpful in calming you down when you worried about it afterwards. You just had to have faith in him this time too.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, his abdomen twitching. He was so close. So close.
“You can’t cum in me, Jake,” you reminded him, taking a deep breath. Despite the fact that you were in panic mode, you couldn’t resist how good he felt. He was still filling you up so perfectly that if you were in any worse state, you probably would’ve let him cum then and there without a care in the world. And you both would’ve loved every second of it.
“Gonna cum,” he repeated, eyes screwing shut. His neck was flushed red. Sweat clung to his hairline. His fingers gripped you like a lifeline. But he wouldn’t let up.
“Don’t you dare cum inside me. Don’t you fucking dare, Ja- Fuck,” your own moaning cut you off, catching you off guard. Your forehead slumped back into the pillows as your eyes screwed shut and your fists tightened.
You clenched on him again, but he managed to pull out with just enough time to spare. The moment his tip fell out of you, the first ropes of his cum were landing on the back of your thigh. Grunts were choked out of him with every spurt, making his body twitch. He let out some quiet expletives, and his hand helped him complete his orgasm, milking everything out onto your leg. Not one drop inside of you, just like you said. Once again, he was your good boy.
“Please tell me you didn’t get any on my bed,” you groaned, looking back at him with hopeful eyes.
He did a quick check, breathing heavily as he lifted your thigh to see beneath it. He shook his head, and you took that as a sign to relax fully onto the pillows. While you kept your eyes closed and recuperated, Jake left the bed to fetch some toilet paper from your bathroom. When he came back, you both mellowed in the comfortable silence while he wiped your leg for you. He took a few seconds between cleaning to admire how sound you looked, as if asleep already. You did look cute when you slept, according to him. No matter how rough he would be with you in bed, he always saw you as the one he would do anything for and protect until you didn’t want him to anymore.
“Are you sleeping over?” you asked once he returned from throwing the soiled toilet paper and washing himself up. He was in the middle of sliding his boxers back on. He swiped his hair back from his face, exposing his dampened forehead. Even in the crappy lighting of your college apartment, after a messy sex session, he still looked like a model.
“Depends, what YouTube videos are you going to make me watch while we go to sleep if I stay?”
You thought about what videos you had been watching as of late, and then your eyes widened excitedly, “I did watch a video of this girl telling ghost stories the other day and didn’t get to finish it, can we watch that?”
“________, you know I don’t like that stuff,” his face contorted into a mix of discomfort and pleading. He couldn’t handle most scary stuff, much less ghost stories. He wouldn’t be able to sleep.
“Come on, Jake, they’re not even scary,” you sat up in bed and patted the open spot beside you, gesturing for him to take it. He shuffled towards it begrudgingly, letting out a deep, dramatic sigh as he got into bed with you again. He noticed you had slipped your black panties back on but his shirt was the one you were wearing, and he tried not to smile. He would have to leave his clothes here for you more often.
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a like, reblog, and/or a message in my inbox! i would love to hear your feedback! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
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xiaq · 1 year
Text
Part 1 Here
Prompts combined for Pt. 2 are : Outsider POV, Steve Harrington is an idiot (affectionate), Wayne Finds Out, and Everyone is Queer Because I Said So.
Wayne Munson knows he’s not the best parental figure. He never liked kids. Never wanted kids. And he nearly said no when the social worker called asking if he wanted to take guardianship of his thirteen-year-old nephew. Because surely there was someone better suited. Except then the social worker told him why Eddie had been removed from his father’s care. About the magazines Eddie’s father had found in Eddie’s backpack that preceded him kicking Eddie out. About the fights Eddie had been getting into at school. About the song lyrics his temporary foster had found in his journal. And suddenly Wayne wasn’t so sure there was a better option. He knew there had to be people more equipped to raise a traumatized queer teenager, but there was no guarantee Eddie would end up with one of them. The opposite was far more likely. Wayne knew firsthand that much of the world was unkind to people like them.
In the years that follow, they don’t talk about it. He figured once he’d won the kid’s trust, Eddie would bring it up in his own time. Or maybe Eddie would ask why Wayne spends a weekend in Indy once a month or maybe ask who he’s spending the weekends with. But somehow those conversations never happen and Wayne doesn’t force them. 
It’s not until he finds Steve Fucking Harrington keeping vigil at Eddie’s hospital bedside that he thinks maybe he should have pushed the issue sooner. 
Because Harrington looks like he’s been through a war. He’s covered in blood and grime; only his arms, washed to his elbows where he’s holding Eddie’s hand, are clean. He’s looking at Eddie with naked emotion. And, perhaps most damning, he’s wearing Eddie’s battle jacket.
When Wayne enters the room, Harrington startles and says, “Hi. I’m Steve Harrington,” like Wayne and everyone else in Hawkins weren’t already aware of that.
“I know who you are. I know who your father is, too.”
“I’d uh, prefer you didn’t hold that against me.”
Wayne makes no promises. “How do you know Eddie?”
“We’re…friends,” Steve says. There’s a continent of things unsaid behind the word.
“And how are you in his room past visiting hours?”
“I bribed the nurse," he admits. “I didn’t want him to be alone.”
“Well. On that, we’re agreed. But I’m here now. And no offense, kid, but you look like you should be in one of these beds yourself.”
“Yeah. I told them once you got here I’d let them stitch me up. It’s not anything life-threatening.” He says this with the resigned intonation of someone who is familiar with the difference.
What the fuck has Eddie gotten himself involved in?
Harrington stands. It’s a slow, painful, movement, and he only lets go of Eddie’s hand at the last possible second. “Can I—I’d like to come back. After. If you don’t mind.”
Wayne considers him. He considers Eddie’s blood-smeared vest on the kid’s shoulders. He realizes, belatedly, that Eddie’s guitar pick necklace is hanging around Harrington’s bruised throat, the rings usually crammed onto Eddie’s fingers lined up on either side of the pick.
“Sure,” he says. “Be nice to have some company. And you can tell me what the hell happened.”
Harington sighs. “Not sure how much I’m allowed to tell. Or how much you’ll believe. But I can try.”
Wayne takes his place holding Eddie’s hand.
He tries to ignore the fact that Harrington stands in the doorway for more than a minute, just looking, before finally slipping into the hall.
He’s back a few hours later, clearly showered, wrapped in gauze, and wearing the preppiest goddamn outfit. Honestly, Wayne can’t fathom how Eddie and Harrington have anything in common. He’s also still wearing the necklace, though. And when he pulls up a chair to sit on the opposite side of Eddie’s bed, he removes the necklace and carefully, downright tenderly, returns the rings to Eddie’s fingers. Wayne notices, almost despite himself, that Harrington isn’t just guessing at the placement, either. He knows. So either he’s intimately familiar with Eddie’s fingers––something that, as impossible as it sounds, is starting to seem more and more likely––or he’s particularly observant. And that kind of observance speaks to its own sort of devotion. 
Wayne isn’t excited about either of these options.
He’s trying to figure out how to ask if Steve Fucking Harrington is Eddie’s boyfriend without scaring him away when Eddie shifts, which has Wayne and Steve both jumping to their feet.
“Wayne?” he murmurs. And Wayne isn’t one for emotional displays but he finds himself participating in one for the next few minutes nonetheless.
Once he gets ahold of himself, Eddie’s head turns, slow with painkillers, to see Harrington.
“Stevie,” he says, grinning. “Hey. I’m not dead.”
“Despite your best efforts,” Steve chokes out. His hands are fisted under his armpits and he looks about five seconds away from crying. Not that Wayne can judge since he’s more than five seconds into crying.
“What did I tell you, what did you promise?” Harrington snarls.
Eddie’s grin dims. “Not to be a hero. But Dustin––shit. Dustin. Is he...”
“Fine. Sprained ankle. Pissed as hell at you. Everyone else is fine too. Max is down the hall. She has some broken bones but she’ll be alright.”
“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs. “How did I—“
“We went back for you.”
“We?”
“I,” Harrington grits out. “I went back for you. Thought you were dead. Carried you back anyway. Didn’t realize you were still breathing until we got you in the car. Drove like hell to the hospital.”
And that’s. Well, shit. Apparently, Wayne is going to need to temper his distrust of this particular Harrington. Because it sounds like he saved Eddie’s goddamn life.
“He also refused treatment and waited with you until I got here,” Wayne feels he has to add. “Despite the fact he was bleeding everywhere.”
Eddie glances between them, eyes huge. “Shit. I’m sorry. Hey, no, don’t––”
Steve is crying now, not even trying to hide it, and Eddie holds out a hand, wincing. “Come here, man, I’m fine. Or I’ll probably be fine, right?”
“So says the doctor,” Wayne agrees. 
Steve doesn’t need a second invitation.
He all but collapses, carefully, into Eddie’s outstretched arms, and Eddie’s hands bunch into the fabric of Steve’s sweatshirt and he crams his face into Steve’s neck and they’re so––their obvious, desperate, affection for each other is so unapologetic that Wayne has to look away.
 It’s not until later, when they’ve hashed out the basics of the insane upside-down phenomenon, that they finally convince Steve to go home and sleep.
He waits ten seconds after the door has closed to exhale, pressing his palms into his eyes.
“Jesus, kid. I knew you had expensive taste with cigarettes and guitars but this? He’s the closest thing to royalty this town has.”
Eddie lets out a hysterical little warble of a laugh. “No. No, no. That’s not—we’re not.”
“What the hell are you then?”
“Friends. Bonded through extreme trauma.”
“But you’d like to be more than friends.”
Eddie looks at him askance “I’ll take what I can get and I won’t ask for more,” he says quietly.
Unfortunately, Wayne is well familiar with that kind of love. He just can’t get Steve’s expression out of his head. The gentle way he’d replaced Eddie’s rings. He doesn’t think Eddie’s interest is as one-sided as Eddie does. But he doesn’t want to meddle. He’s certain they’ll figure themselves out.
Two months later, Wayne is starting to think they’re both idiots. Because half the time when he gets home from his evening bar shift––a new job after the plant disappeared into the fiery abyss––Steve’s BMW is parked down the street and when he cracks Eddie’s bedroom door he finds them cuddled up, asleep. Sometimes he’ll go to rent a movie and Steve will be wearing a shirt that Wayne knows is Eddie’s and half the time when he wakes Eddie up in the mornings he’s wearing a pastel sweater monogrammed with initials that don’t belong to Eddie. He’d think they’re together and keeping it quiet if not for the fact that Eddie is driving him absolutely insane with pining. He’s written three songs about longing and heartbreak in the last two weeks and if Wayne has to listen to one more wailing ballad he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.
He’s walking back from the bar after closing, only a mile from the new fancy trailer the government had installed for them when he passes Harrington’s conspicuous vehicle a few houses down. He sighs. The boy really has no sense of subtly. 
He’s expecting to find them, as usual, asleep in a tangle of limbs, except when he reaches the porch stairs, he can hear the boys talking.
He pauses with his hand on the railing.
“What are you doing,” Eddie murmurs, voice just carrying from the open living room window.
“Well. I’d like to kiss you, if you’d let me.”
About damn time, Wayne thinks.
“Steve, wait,” Eddie says. And it’s so quiet, so uncertain, that Wayne is tempted to open the door right then if only to prevent Ed from sounding so broken.
“I can’t be a practice run for you,” Eddie says, “Please. I can’t. I wouldn’t survive that.”
“A––what the fuck, Eddie.”
“It’s just, I know this is new to you and I’m, obviously, all about exploration and, um, finding yourself. Congratulations. Yay. But I can’t be an experiment. Not with you. I can’t.”
“You’re not an experiment,” Harrington says, voice a little louder than Wayne would prefer, given the circumstances. The trailer park isn’t exactly spacious. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I want to kiss you because I’m in love with you, how could you think—besides. This isn’t that new. I’ve kissed other guys.”
“You’ve what? Who? When?”
“Just. You know. Friends messing around. I didn’t know that made me bisexual until I talked about it with Robin but apparently, I’ve been kinda gay this whole time.”
“I’m sorry. You thought making out with your basketball buddies was…a standard heterosexual pastime?”
“Well, when you say it like that.”
“What other way is there to say it?”
“Okay,” Steve says, “I already had this conversation with Robin this morning. I don’t need to rehash it again. So I’m a little bit of an idiot. Memo received.”
“Jesus, Harrington. You just found out bisexuality was a thing this morning and now you’re here, what, asking me to be your boyfriend?”
“I mean, yeah. Ideally.”
“You don’t do anything by halves, do you.” Eddie sounds disgustingly fond.
“Eddie. I just said I love you.”
“You did,” Eddie says, high and cracked. “You did say that.”
“So if we could refocus.”
“Right.”
“I don’t expect you to say it back, but––”
“God, you really are an idiot. Of course I fucking love you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then that’s––well, that’s probably his nephew getting his first kiss from Steve Fucking Harrington.
Wayne decides to give them to a count of thirty before interrupting, but just as he’s about to stomp his way up the stairs, Eddie says, “Sorry, sorry, I’ve never done this before.”
“Hey, no. It’s ok. Neither have I, really. But you’re crazy if you think I’m going to fuck you right now,” Steve says.
“I meant kissing. Hold on, does that mean you would be willing to fuck me later?”
Wayne winces. There are things he does not need to hear come out of his nephew’s mouth.
“Wait,” Steve interrupts, “You’ve never been kissed before? How is that possible?”
“Who would have kissed me?” Eddie hisses, “ I’m the town pariah. And until I met Robin I didn’t know any other queer people existed in Hawkins. Though apparently, I should have just joined the basketball team since you’re having orgies or whatever.”
“The first two were on the swim team,” Steve says. 
“First two. How many were there?”
Steve ignores him. “And that wasn’t––you’re so hot, though. And your band has played in bigger cities. Haven’t you ever gone up to Indy to any of the bars there?”
“I need you to understand,” Eddie says, “that I am 90% bravado and 100% anxiety.”
“That’s not how percentages work.”
“Steve.”
“Sorry. Okay. Well, if this is your first kiss then I better make it good, huh?”
“Yes. That is absolutely the burden placed upon your capable shoulders should you choose to––oh.”
Eddie stops talking and doesn’t start again, though he does make a breathy little noise that Wayne takes as his cue.
He stomps up the stairs as loudly as possible, fumbling longer than necessary with the door handle, and pushes his way inside.
The boys are both shirtless, clearly in the process of shoving themselves away from each other. Eddie’s face is pink and his lips are kiss-swollen and Harrington’s back has a set of welted scratches on it that Wayne imagines are a perfect match for Eddie’s fingers.
“Well, shit,” Wayne says. He definitely should have opened the door sooner.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Eddie says.
“What the fuck else what it be?” Steve says, only sounding a little hysterical.
Except then the kid is pushing Eddie behind him and squaring up to Wayne with his jaw clenched and his head high, the discolored ring around his neck, still not yet healed, the scars down his belly, on display. Wayne is well-acquainted with the nuance of a man posturing versus a man who would gladly throw himself into a fight, even one he’s not certain he’d win. Steve Harrington is indisputably the latter.
Wayne can’t decide if he’s offended or endeared.
“Stand down, kid, I’m not going to hurt him.”
“I wouldn’t let you.” 
“That is…extremely apparent.”
“Steve,” Eddie says. “It’s ok. He knows. Or. We’ve never really talked about it but.” He meets Wayne’s eyes. “He knows. It’s ok.”
Eddie pushes around him, stepping into Wayne’s open arms.
Steve watches distrustfully as Wayne wraps Eddie in a hug.
“You’re both safe here,” he says. Mostly to Steve, since he’s the one who needs to hear it. “And I’ll call up my boyfriend in Indy and have him vouch for me if you don’t believe me.”
Harrington’s expression is just as magnificent as Wayne hoped it would be.
“Your what?” Eddie shrieks.
Part 3 Here.
On AO3 Here.
Tempted to do one more from one of the kid's POVs when the kids find out. Thoughts?
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Note
Ok. I have a request took me a lot of courage to finally request and shat myself a couple times but anyway! A one shot where choso lives in y/ns dorm with them and he was like doing his hair and kept messing up and gave up and started crying (I FEEL LIKE THATS SOMETHING HED DO THE POOR BOY:() thennnn y/n walks in their dorm and sees him crying and then comforts him and does his hair for him!!
IF THAT AIN'T LOVE THEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!
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synopsis// choso is having an off day.
➚ pairing// choso x gn!reader ➚ word count// 1.4k
contents// frustrated/sad choso? idk just some hurt/comfort in a way! fluff?? could be read as either platonic or romantic doesnt really matter i supposeeee? i think it kinda reads more romantic tho
notes// anon ur actual fucking MIND. i was moved. literally right after reading ur request i opened up my notes and went to fucking WORKKK!!!! anyway sorry its so kinda all over the place but i hope u like it and it lived up to ur expectations!! n also sorry to everyone else for posting a oneshot mid smau its short n cute okay (AND ITS FUCKING CHOSO SO LIKE CMON???) i couldnt help myself !! also the title is lyrics from cupid's chokehold by gym class heroes... okay bye!
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Sharing a dorm with Choso was heavenly.
Because of your conflicting schedules, half the time, you rarely actually saw each other. But even when you did, he was the type of roommate to keep to himself; he has his side of the room, and you have yours. Of course, you two talked here and there; he was actually pretty nice company whenever you two were actually in the room at the same time. But more often than not, the only time you would see him was late at night when you were just getting in to go to sleep.
Either way, the point is, you never really saw him around much. Choso was always quick and effective, so by the time you would head back to your dorm after a few of your classes, he would just be heading out or have already left.
Usually, his alarm would go off an hour before his classes, which is ample time for him. He’s done his routine hundreds of times before—doing his hair and eyeliner is practically muscle memory, and at this point he's sure he could do it in his sleep. but not today, apparently. Today his alarm goes off late—half an hour late. Which Choso isn’t panicked by, only slightly frustrated, but it's fine. That still leaves him another half an hour to get ready, so there's still plenty of time given that it only takes him 10–15 minutes to get ready, so it's fine. Everything is fine; he repeats it in his head like a mantra, like if he thinks it and says it enough, he’ll actually believe it.
Choso quickly dresses, then sits at his desk, where a little mirror sits. He sighs as he flips on a lamp and grabs his eyeliner. He doesn’t even have to think about it, instinctively taking the cap off and bringing it to his eye, only for it to crumble as it meets his waterline. Choso cusses under his breath as he blinks, attempting to get whatever fell into his eye out. When that doesn't work, he rubs his eye, only for it to spread eyeliner all across his eye and cheek. He groans, grabbing a cloth to wipe it off with, and once his face is clean, he doesn't even bother trying with his eyeliner again—looking at the time, he’s already wasted more than he wanted doing that. He’ll just do his hair and leave, or else he’ll be late.
Choso stills for a moment, forcing himself to take a deep breath to try and calm the nerves and frustration simmering beneath his skin—it's fine. He nods. Now somewhat calmer, he grabs his hair ties and gets to work… only for one of them to break as he’s trying to put his hair through it. Choso stares at himself in the mirror, eyes narrowed and swallowing harshly, as he desperately tries to ignore the rising heat going to his cheeks.
Whatever.
It's fine.
He’ll just do the other side of his hair...only for the same thing to happen. Choso can actively feel his heart racing—it's pounding against his chest and ringing in his ears—and he’s already too far gone to notice or even stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. He doesn’t really know why he’s actually crying, if he’s being honest. It’s not like this is the end of the world; he knows that, yet he can't stop himself. Too many things have gone wrong, and he’s barely woken up. First, his alarm goes off late, which isn't the most horrible thing within itself, but then his eyeliner crumbles and gets in his eye, and when he tries to wipe it away, it instead smears on his face. Then he rubs his face raw, trying to get it off, and now he can't do his fucking hair because his hair ties suddenly decided to disintegrate and snap in half.
He messily wipes at his tears and tries inhaling deeply for air in a feeble attempt to calm himself the tiniest bit down. It doesn't do anything. In fact, it makes things worse. His tears fall harder, and he’s choking in shallow breaths of air. If anyone walked in right this moment, they’d think something horrible happened, like one of his brothers died. and it's just his luck, or a very obvious lack thereof, when you walk in. Choso immediately starts scrambling to wipe his tears away and hide his face from you as you drop your things in shock—you hadn’t expected him to still be in the dorm, let alone be here crying.
“Holy shit, Choso, are you okay? What's wrong? Did something happen?” You panic, immediately running to his side.
He doesn’t say anything; he just takes in and lets out shaky breaths as he shakes his head, one arm outstretched to keep you at arm's length.
You frown and look around. For what? You’re not sure. Part of you thinks if you look hard enough, you'll find why he’s crying, but all you see are snapped hair ties, a crumbled, unsharpened eyeliner pencil, and a cloth full of eyeliner. That’s when it all starts to make sense. You smile softly at him, who's still hiding his red tear-stained face from you, before you grab his comb and a new pair of hair ties from his desk.
Choso doesn’t know what you're doing when he hears you shuffling around, and he refuses to meet your gaze, filled to the brim with embarrassment at having been caught crying, but his head involuntarily snaps up, looking at you through the mirror, when he feels you start to brush his hair. You're already staring back at him and flashing him a warm smile, not saying a word as you continue to detangle his hair.
“You don't have to do this,” he sniffles, finally calming down enough to say something.
"I know I don't," you shrug. "But I also know it sucks when it seems like nothing is working or going to plan, so..."
"I can do it myself-“
"Choso, just let me do this for you, please.”
He stares at you for a moment, studying your face as if trying to find something, and when he finds nothing but your soft eyes and willingness—your desire—to do this for him, he sighs and nods. You beam and gleefully get back to work on his hair, and Choso finds that he’s no longer embarrassed by being seen crying but rather by the fact he feels like a doll—but the worst part? It's kind of nice.
He likes having someone do this for him with no hesitation; he likes the way your fingers carefully rake through his hair to ensure there's no tangles even though you just combed it; he likes the way you don't tie the ponytails too tight like he usually does, which only results in a pounding headache he can't get rid of; he likes all of it.
He likes all of it so much so that he finds himself closing his eyes in complete bliss, drowning in your gentle touches. You poof up one of his ponytails a bit, ready to tell him you're done, when you look into the mirror and notice his eyes closed, looking like he’s in a whole other world. You can't fight your smile off as you play with his ponytail for a bit longer before slowly wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.
“What do you think?” You whisper, your breath softly fanning against his ear.
Choso opens his eyes, surprised to see you pretty much hugging him from behind, yet he doesn't hate it, not one bit. Too caught up about how much he does not hate this; he doesn't respond, and it makes you nervous.
“Sorry… I know they don't look exactly like how you usually do them, but-“
"No, no,” he cuts you off quickly. “They look amazing... Thank you, y/n...”
You smile, happy with his answer, as you untangle yourself from him and stand up. “You should head out now, Choso; you're late.”
He blinks, totally forgetting about class, and hurriedly stands up. "Right, thank you again,” is all he’s saying before rushing out the door.
You giggle slightly before yawning and making your way to your bed, ready for your usual nap, when Choso comes rushing back into the dorm again. You stare at him wide-eyed, and he simply stares back.
You furrow your eyebrows, confused, and are about to ask if he's okay when suddenly he blurts out:
"I wouldn’t mind if you did my hair again.”
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©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD
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anadiasmount · 8 months
Text
moment of your life - jude bellingham.
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quick sum: a girls night out. birthday. dinner. club. seeing jude unexpectedly after you over heard him say things that left you hurt and confused… but hey, maybe this could be the moment of your life…
WC: 6k
PSA 🗣️ inspired by song ‘moment of your life’ by brent faiyez ft. coco jones 🤭. the lyrics will be in italics and bolded! no warnings, just angsty at the start, jealous jude, but ends with a happy ending! insta au at end as well❣
You laughed loudly in disbelief as you saw your girlfriends walk through the door. You lazily got up from your bed into a seating position and smiled big when they appeared holding flowers, balloons, and a pink heart-shaped cake for your birthday. They sang Happy Birthday loudly, recording your reaction as they went and circled around your bed. You weren't expecting them, so your shocked reaction to them made them chuckle. 
You brushed your hair back and put your glasses on top of your head, from the studying you were doing for your communications class. “Make a wish, darling!” your best friend said, sitting next to you while holding the cake. There were many things you wished for but being here with them just made you feel so grateful and loved after the last couple of weeks. You closed your eyes in delight and blew the candles. 
Clapping your hands and thanking them, but that’s when you notice them being fully dressed up, short dresses or mini skirts, and or tight tops. “Uh-”
“We're going out to celebrate. So get up, take a shower, and we’ll do your hair and makeup. We bought you this midi dress, and you’ll wear it.”
There was no making remarks or opinions when your friend Ella spoke, she had a clear message and you had to hear it. But you just weren't up for going out, you’d rather just do something here with them since it was unexpected. Open that bottle of tequila and vodka, and drink your sorrows away till the next day. “Guys, I love you more than anything, but I really don’t want to… We can do something here-”
“No no no. We have reservations in two hours at this fancy restaurant downtown, so we can’t stay,” Ella spoke again, going over and grabbing your hand to pull you out of bed. She struggled since your feet were planted on the ground, only dragging and moving along when she tugged you towards the bathroom. “Shower. Go.” You huffed but did what she said, managing to quickly shave your legs and wash your hair. 
You moisturized your body with some lotion and did skincare to let the products sit before they did your makeup. Ella knocked on the door and passed you the black dress, it looked short, and it was slightly shorter than what you were used to, but it hugged and shaped your curves well, your legs looked tan and toned, your boobs perky and sat nicely. You went and also picked out the black stiletto heels, knowing the would define your legs even more, stepping out with them in your hand. 
Your friends gassed you up, complementing you, a warm blush spreading your cheeks. But, they still rushed you to sit down so they could get to work. You begged them for a natural look, not wanting anything that would sweat off if you guys decided to go clubbing, surprise surprise they listened. You did agree to some small dramatic lashes, which shaped your eyes with the brown eyeshadow. 
While they did that Ella, quickly blow-dried your hair, and gave you a small blowout, nothing too crazy but what went with you. Your friends attempted to re-act the scene from Princess Diaries which made everyone wheeze as you headed downstairs. Your jaw dropped and smiled widely as you saw the small decorations in the kitchen, along with the pink cake from before. 
“You guys! This is so cute!” you yelled out, going to hug each and everyone, seriously enjoying the princess treatment. “You deserve it all, darling! Hurry let's pre-game, and take some pics before we head out,” one of your friends said, all of them quickly agreeing. 
The ride to the restaurant went fully smooth, now currently seated in one of the prettiest restaurants you've been to. “Ella, listen I love you, but I'm not wearing that damn tiara…” you shut her down for the millionth time, making her roll her eyes. She sounded like your mom with her protest saying it was just for pictures, but all you had in mind was to eat. 
“Oh fuck…” you looked up from your menu and glanced around confused. But then you saw who exactly made your friend curse out loud. You hid behind the menu again, attempting to look discrete. But you felt the cold rush through your veins, the feeling of your stomach dropping at the sight of the familiar curls, and white smile. All you could do was nod when your friend asked if you were okay, and pretend like you were fine, but deep down, the last thing you wished for was to make sure he didn't see you at all. 
He was through your eye range, and you didn't hesitate to move when your friend offered to switch spots, your back facing him as you walked to the seat. Call you dramatic but you didn't care, you deserved to be happy on your birthday and that was the plan. It was quickly forgotten by them when the drinks arrived, you tried to distract yourself but your mind went back to him. 
Jude had been someone you were helping out to learn Spanish once he first moved to Madrid. Of course, who could deny his gentleman status, his attractive features in those times the two of you were together? Him acting cocky at times, the brush of hands when you passed him the papers, and the strong eye contact when you explained the attributes of the language. You felt a mass of butterflies around him, and it seemed like he did too when he confessed he felt the same way. 
You shared your first kiss, the rain tapping slightly against the window, the scented candles lighting the room when the light went out, the way he would quickly stare at your lips then back up at your eyes, had you clenching your legs shut. And when your lips finally brushed against his, there was no turning back, the passion, the small grunts and moans from the both of you, the way he tugged on your hair making you go crazy. The tight grip on your waist as your tongues fought for dominance. 
 After that, the two of you got closer than ever. The regular routine of coming over to help him with his Spanish lessons quickly turned into dates in your apartment. Making dinner, teaching him, then cuddling while watching movies. He never pushed for more, respecting any boundaries, which made you feel assured it was real. It felt right. You felt safe and sound, forgetting how cruel the world was to you when you were with him. Only him. He became someone that anytime you saw, you knew you didn't have to worry about anything. It was just the two of you. 
But that changed after a party, a party he insisted you go to since he claimed he wouldn't know how to communicate with anyone. After you stepped away to get a drink, you regretted coming. Those few minutes of agony turned to hours as you felt stupid and used, quickly leaving and didn't bother looking back. 
That was a month ago, and now you're here, looking at the waiter confused when a blue drink was brought to your table, to you specifically. “Who is this from?” you couldn't help but ask, maybe wondering if it was from Jude… “It was sent from him,” you followed where he had pointed, and met with a tall, brunette, European dressed man. You raised the drink, as in a thank you, to which he smirked. 
“Seems like you got his attention… You planning to say hi?” your friend teased, to which you gave her a playful glare. “Who knows,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your wine instead of the blue drink, “Maybe it could be the moment of my life.”
The food was amazing, and your tastebuds fell in love with the flavor of the dish you chose. You all laughed and reminisced on the good times together, especially those when you were dorming with each other, and that trip to Germany where you had lost your bags. “No guys I can’t. It feels like I’ve done an ab workout after all this laughing,” you said, grabbing your stomach. “No, but like I said, I don’t remember that night at all-”
You covered your face when you heard them starting to sing Happy Birthday, hating the attention from the whole restaurant on you. It was slightly embarrassing, and they did this knowing it would be a good laugh, which you didn't mind since you had done it to one of them before. All you could do was shift around in your seat, looking around the table before blowing the candles out again the second time. 
“I had the goal! I had it!-” Jude was quickly cut off by the cheering, glancing over to the table in the corner, his breath hitched, seeing the familiar smile as they turned their head to what their friend was saying, watching as you threw your head back laughing contently. It looked like you were happy, over the moon. You were all he frequently thought of these days, he needed and wanted to know what you were doing, how you were, wishing to ask what the hell went wrong between the two of you. He was going crazy not knowing, especially since all you did was leave him on read. No matter where he was, his only thought was you. 
“Y/n is here,” was all that Jude said, shifting to look straight at you, but it was quite difficult. “Jude, you’re speaking nonsense, c’mon back to what you were saying,” his teammate said, one he grew super close with once he arrived. Jude clenched his jaw, fist knocking and tapping on the table as he turned back to you, but now watching as a man was whispering into your ear, you were smiling and nodding. 
He felt the burn rising in his chest, not liking the way you looked content next to a man that wasn't him, whispering back into his ear and watching as he went back to his table. Jude’s shoulders tensed under his shirt, a vein popping from his forehead. His tongue pointed on the inside of his cheek. What was so fucking funny that had you laughing like that? That man shouldn’t haven't even been there, it should’ve been him there. 
Jude knew it was your birthday today, and he wondered if you had received the roses he sent along with a letter. He was tempted to go over there and try to make amends but it wasn’t the time or place for that. So for the rest of his dinner, he just stared at you, gawking at how you looked. The dress causing dirty images in his head, urging him to go over and run his hand down your spine to your ass, make you yours as he desired. 
“I need a drink,” he sighed, rubbing his fingers over the lines on his forehead. Hi teammate laughing at his distressed look, teasing him for thinking about it too much and letting it get to his head. “If you're that bothered, why don’t you go over and talk to her? Maybe she’s willing to explain?” he said, but Jude shook his head. “I don’t think she wants to see me. She's made it clear by not texting me back or answering my calls. She won't even approve for our next Spanish lesson!” 
While you hadn’t, Jude had known of you prior to meeting you. Hearing how you were a special friend to those around him. You had a bright smile, warm eyes, and a caring personality, yet were so shy and innocent, and always willing to help him no matter what. You were too good for him, but he was whipped, wanting to know anything and everything about you. Jude brought himself to ask you to be his Spanish teacher in a way, after approving his transfer in early March, when those moving rumors began to surface in the media. 
When he finally asked you, it looked like you were taken at back, he quickly fell mesmerized with you, the way your eyes glimmered, your rosy cheeks, the way you couldn't hold proper hold eye contact with him, being intimidated by his gaze. What he absolutely adored was the way you fit in his embrace, you were smaller than him, and he was scared those times when you hugged he would hold you tight but that wasn't the case. He would never miss a session, bringing something to you every time from it being your favorite snacks to even your favorite roses. 
When you’d meet in public, it was a private cafe or somewhere secluded so he wouldn't get recognized. But even then, it was always so hard to focus on teaching a language, when all you did was talk about each other's lives. Having grown up as a quiet person, living most of your life privately, meeting Jude probably was the best thing that ever happened to you. You were used to everyone leaving you or being treated like nothing but him? You were his absolute world. 
It took time to get out of that shell you created. You were scared of being used or one of the so-called flings. you never let him in, slowly but surely you began to dig deeper into his heart. You fell, but he fell harder for you. He made you feel comfortable in your setting, never pushed you for me, he was respectful and brutally honest, which you admired. 
“Are we ready to go?” you asked after paying. They argued over who would pay what but in the end it was decided to split the check between everyone. You slid from the table, walking where he wouldn't see you if he was paying attention. You made sure your dress wasn't high, and fixed your jewelry, walking slowly out the door but you were suddenly stopped by that man again.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Yes. Thank you for the drink once again, but like I said I'm not interested in anything right now if that makes sense. I'm just focusing on myself and getting started with my career,“ you apologize feeling like owed him an explanation, but you didn’t. He just gave off bad vibes, and you didn't like his aura and cocky self. “Not even your number? If time is what you need I’ll be more than welcome to wait.”
He was persistent and you almost gave in. Why did you feel bad rejecting him? You had told yourself if someone new wanted to enter your life, you would allow them. You were going to be open to moving on after Jude. But why was it so hard to do just that? For god’s sake, you couldn't even give him your number, without thinking back to Jude. Thinking of how he would feel, or what he would say to you. 
You gave him an apologetic smile, before nodding your head, “What about my insta?” to which he quickly agreed. 
If Jude was jealous before, he was over the roof now. He scoffed seeing you exchange whatever you were doing, his nails deep into the palm of his hands ignoring the sting in his heart. Were you moving on? Even if there was no label put on the two of you, it looked like you were, and that truly scared him. Jude’s questions were still unanswered to him, and now he was losing it, darting over to where you were. “Jude just give it up. Give her-” he heard them say but he was just focused on you. 
“No. You can’t, I won't let you. She’s doing just fine without you,” one of your friends said as she saw the tall man beginning to approach you. “I don't care! I am miserable and I won’t put up without a fight. If she doesn't want to talk I'll hear it from her,” he said, which is true, he could have his temper and you knew that. He wasn’t going to give up so soon. Giving up on you was out of the picture…“I'll see you around,” the stranger said smirking, making Jude internally gag. 
“You won’t.”
You look up and see him standing there, just like you had seen him before with an all-black outfit. He looked hurt, a small frown placed on his lips, and his brows plugged in together confounded. Jude turned his gaze to Alex, now a scowling look to the stranger from tonight, once he heard him remark back, “And who's to stop me from that? You?”
Jude licked his lips, and scratched his temple, nodding before saying something, “Yes me. Is that a problem?” he raised his brow, approaching Alex closer with small steps. “Well, it seems like your girl, Y/n right?,” Alex pointed to you with his head, “Is currently not taken, so I'm free to do whatever I’d like. And if she was, well then, seems like it didn’t stop her from giving me her socials?” 
Alex was starting to get into Jude’s head, he saw the rage in his eyes causing him to smirk, and tap Jude’s chest, “Well seems like you have your answer…” 
Jude placed a smug look into his face, now tapping Alex’s chest, “Like I said. She’s not interested, because quite frankly all you got was her socials. If she was interested like you seemed convinced to be, she would give in, guess your charming self isn’t fitting her cup of tea. You're only into her for one reason, and she’s not looking for that ” Jude cocked his head to the side in a ‘we both know what we're talking about’ way.
When you saw Alex approach Jude closer that's when you decided to get between them, your hand connecting with his chest, pushing Jude back. You saw Jude’s matches, and you knew what he was thinking, he lost his control easily and you didn't want to cause a scene here, especially for Jude’s sake as he was the talk of the media. An article being posted the next morning saying he was fighting, wasn’t going to look good for him. 
“Stop. Let it go,” you whispered to only where he could hear, Jude glanced down at you, grabbing your hips as you walked him outside, your friends following behind. “I'm sorry for all that, have a good rest of your night, “ you said to Alex, watching him roll his eyes, but you couldn't care less. Jude had a point, and you weren’t looking for a quick fuck. 
When you walked back out, Jude was pacing back and forth, talking to his teammates as they tried to calm him down. Ella walked towards you, trying to get you to go with them, but she understood if you wanted to talk to him. “We’ll be in the car waiting, if you need us don’t hesitate to scream,” she said to which you nodded. It looked like Jude’s friends did the same, walking over to a fancy car, with more than enough room for all of them. 
Your heels clicked against the concrete floor, catching Jude’s attention. “Wha- What was that? Care to explain?” he said furiously, his hand pointing to the direction of the restaurant. “Can you keep your voice down? I don’t think you’d want articles resurfacing-”
“Y/n! I could care less about that. Let them post it, I don’t care. I want to know what happened between us. We don't talk for weeks, and suddenly it seems like you're a new person. Did you forget about us? What we did? What we shared? How you specifically told me that you were falling for me? What the fuck changed?” Jude let out hurt. He was hurting and you saw that. 
“Well to me, I saw and heard what I needed to hear from you Jude. You played me, led me on, made me believe there could ever be something between us. But oh boy was I wrong! I was so wrong about you after you proved to me you weren't the person I had met. The Jude I met is not the one standing in front of me, not the one who promised me they felt the same way but instead lied. Do you not know what that feels like? I feel stupid, used!” you yelled. The frustration being built inside you, wanting to be let out of the cage after being built.
“Led you on? What the hell are you talking about?” he scoffed, shaking his head confused, “I made my intentions very clear to you, how I felt about you. I did anything to make you happy! I wanted to see you happy, happy next to me. I was willing to do anything, I was patient with you. There was a reason why I asked you to teach me Spanish, I wanted to get to know you. If anything I feel like you led me on,” he pointed out, motioning with his hands. 
“Excuse me? How can you say that? I wasn't the one who said ‘Yeah she means nothing to me really. Doesn’t mean shit what we are, just in it for the fun. She’s nice to be around, but being in it for the long run, you know me, how I am. This being in relationships isn't what I want right now’ when your friends asked you about me” you mocked, then slightly gasping when you realized what you’d said. Jude furrowed his brows, a shocked or surprised look on his face, not knowing what to say. 
“What?”
“You heard me. I heard you that night at the party… I went out to look for you to ask if you wanted to head home, or go out to the city, just something between us. But once I heard that it was clear I had read your intentions wrong. I wasted no time and left. Could you imagine the way they would make fun of me? For being delusional and not knowing about how you felt?”
Jude’s face softened, knowing he was caught in the act, and that what he said was true. The familiar of his chest tightening was back, not bearing the fact you were crying in front of him, all because of him. But he had to let you know that what he said wasn’t true, the only he said what he said was because those ‘friends’ he was with, only use him for social imaging. He wanted to protect you, protect you from the cruel world that existed. “Y/n-”
“No. I really don’t want to hear it… I just want to enjoy the rest of my night, my birthday with my friends. Have fun Jude…” you sniffled, wiping your tears away to look more presentable. Jude gripped your wrist when he saw you walking back, “No please, we need to talk about this! I can’t just stand here knowing we can prevent the confusion and mistake further. Please, let’s just talk.”
“Like I said. I want to enjoy my night and make it the moment of my life for once. If you want to fix things like you claim, you always know when to find me…”
It's true. He always did know where to find you. Which is why he was now staring at you from the corner of the club, dancing away with your girlfriends. Take shots then and there, laugh and talk with them, and take photos with your friends. Part of him felt happy, that you were able to distract yourself after crying and being upset. But he just desperately wanted to take you home and hold you, to let you listen to what he had to say. 
His friends would include him, often earning a laugh or joke from Jude, he wasn’t also going to be upset either. He had you back and wasn't going to let you leave again, he was going to try because you didn't read his intentions wrong, just didn’t know the full story. He saw you turn down guys that came up to you, which made him feel proud, and secure, often smirking because you were his girl, his only. 
Most of his friends who came with him left, and then it was just him, standing by the bar, intensely staring at your toned legs, those heels that you wore were driving him insane. Watching as your hips moved to the rhythm of the song, your hands tracing from your thighs, up to your hips and then side, over and over again. It was almost like you were teasing him, which you were unbeknownst to him. You wanted to show him what he was willing to lose. That at the end of the day, you were going to move on and forget about him. 
It was 2 a.m. when your friends decided to leave, and they knew you wouldn't accompany them along, since Jude was still there. They couldn't blame you, they also wanted to make sure you got the closure you needed to move on, so they would support you no matter what. If there's anything you love, is that they would never bring you down or judge you. 
“Still here?” 
Jude got startled, looking down at you, a shy smile on your face, warming his heart. There was something about you being shy and innocent that pulled him in more into you. Wanting to be the only one who would see this side of you, playful and loving. “Yeah… waiting for the most beautiful in the world to leave, but looks like she's standing right in front of me now,” he said, taking a sip from his drink.
“I won’t push you to talk if you're not ready, you know I'm not like that. If you need more time I completely understand you,” Jude stated, he was serious about this, the last thing he wanted was to push you away further. What more could you lose, if talking with Jude meant him being back in your life, you were willing to try. 
“Let’s go home. I'm ready.”
Jude would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. You looked better, sexier than ever. That perfume you wore, he loved, especially how you still wore the gold charm bracelet he gave you. He loved this confident side of you, always used to the quietness and reserved part of you, so attempting to calm his nerves was hard. Trying to get his heart rate to calm down was also getting harder by the second as you led him inside your apartment. 
It was still the same, just with some birthday decor and balloons. The same desk in the back where you two had practiced and gave him Spanish lessons was still there. The plants he gifted you, were hung up and longer, as they dangeled. The teddy he had won for you when the two of you passed by a fair a certain night was on the couch, resting peacefully. The roses he’d given you for today were in a red glass vase, on the small table by a huge mirror you had, making him smile. He missed the feeling of home with you. 
“Sorry if it's a mess, I was studying when they came, and I didn't think I'd see you tonight,” you blushed embarrassed, apologizing but Jude didn't care. He instead just walked over and stared at the roses, “I was starting to think you didn't receive them, or that you threw them away…” he admitted, touching the petals. 
“No, I can’t. They're beautiful, plus it was the first thing I woke up to this morning, along with your lovely letter. Thank you by the way,” you said quietly, being respectful about the gift, interlocking your hands together as you walked over to him, breathing in the familiar cologne. “You’re welcome. I'm glad you like them.” 
You watched as his long fingers played with the ribbon on the vase, his veiny hands flexing, but you could feel his intense gaze on you, slowly looking up, getting lost in his brown eyes, the wrinkles in the outer corners. It went quiet, just the heavy breathing that appeared from both of you, the tension becoming hot and tense, swallowing your dry throat as you cleared your throat, and let out a small whisper of his name, “Jude…”
“I couldn't bear the fact, that the last time I would've seen you was that night at the party… I would've said yes to you, you know? I desperately wanted to get out of there once I joined them outside… they were people I thought I could've associated myself with but I was wrong… being new to Spain, I just wanted to build new friendships, but I regret it with them since all they wanted was the few seconds of fame… I don't know who’s real and who’s fake anymore. You were real though… what we had it's still all real to me…” he spoke up, grabbing your smaller hand into his.
“While you went inside to grab the drinks, they began to talk about you, and I wasn’t going to let them do that, because you felt safe and protected around me, you trusted me and I didn’t want to break that bond. I only said what I said because I wanted them to leave me alone, I wanted you to myself, have this privacy and intimate moments like now between the two of us. I wanted to be selfish and keep you to me,” Jude urged, tracing your knuckles with his thumbs. 
You wanted to dig yourself into a hole, never come out, unless there was a sale 100% off in Sephora. This was all interpreted wrong, you had failed to communicate with him about it, causing you to be distant and sad about it. You felt slightly at fault but it wasn't the case. It still hurt to hear because at the moment it felt like you wouldn't be enough for him. 
“What I said was wrong, and I don’t want it to come off that I become a different person when I'm around other people, because I'm not. I just wanted to protect you, and what we had. You've seen it in the past and I can prove that to you. You know me better than anyone else, only seen this side of me because you allowed me to do that. I'm a way better person around you, and only you. So please forgive me…” his voice becoming softer, pleading at you.  
Your pulse was fast, it's what being around him did to you. But him standing here, fixing things between the two of you, shutting those insecurities and unanswered questions away, and proving to you that whatever went on between you wasn't just for fun or to make you feel used. Jude was in it for the long run, only if it was you aside him, not anyone else…
“I feel dumb… I feel like I might've overreacted and this would’ve been avoided if I had just spoken to you… but it hurt because for a second you weren’t Jude, my Jude…” you said, making Jude’s heart race at the words ‘my Jude’. “I thought I wasn't enough for you… that any minute we had spent together was just for you to have a laugh, but it's clear it wasn’t… So of course I forgive you Jude… only if you forgive me for shutting you out like I did…”
“You know my answer to that… You know I'll forgive you, but it was never my intention to make you feel like that okay baby? Remember that. You’re more than what I deserve, and every moment we spent I have it here. And I got every other thing that I need and want but you,” he took your hand and placed it over his heart, “I love you Y/n…” Jude confessed, swallowing his nervousness away. 
You started at him with wide eyes, searching for any signs that would say to back away but there was none because you felt it too. The love, the lust, the feeling of it, all of it, you felt. Your mom had said you’ll feel with the correct person, the feeling of being stable, knowing that the person you love would prove it to you every day for the rest of your life. That when you love, there’s absolute trust always. That love isn’t a fairytale, that it exists when you met your soulmate connection. Jude was your forever soulmate. 
“I love you Jude…” you said abruptly, your hand reaching over and tracing his cheek with the pad of your thumb. Now it was his turn to search for any signs, but he didn’t, because the soulmate connection was mutual. You loved him, the way he loved you. He reached over and slowly leaned down to your lips, not pushing the limit not knowing if you’d want it, but when you pulled his neck to yours, connecting your lips together, every cell in his body ignited. He was back where he desired. Back in your embrace where he felt secure, forgetting about anything when with you. 
His hands traveled to your waist and pulled you closer to him, stumbling a little but he made it work. His lips against yours caused an ache, a sensation of heaven in you. All you saw was a future with him. Jude’s tongue prominently teased your bottom lip, wanting to take it into his mouth, so he was quick to do so when you allowed him to. Savoring your sweet taste forever, a tainted memory to cherish. 
Your hands were tucked on his chest, often raking down to his abdomen. Jude pulled away, holding your face while tucking your hair back, “I've been wantin' you, so what you wanna do tonight? Make this the moment of your life,” Jude said, being down for anything. You kissed the tip of his nose, biting your lip, “I don't wanna hidе… Always been a good girl, but I have a bad side. Can I show you, baby? I'ma guarantee you won't forget…”
Jude was going crazy, his cock hardening under his boxers, the urge to take you right then and there. The innocence was gone from you, no more shy girl, and he wanted to know the bad side you proclaimed to have… to kiss every inch of your skin, the birthmark under your ear, the small painted moles of your chest and neck. To have you cumming underneath him, over and over, to show you who you belong to, to show you the love. He heard the small whimper you let out “Just like that,” as he continued to discover more of you. 
“I don't want a taste, I want the whole damn thing,” he said as he walked you over to your bedroom, “How I feel with you, it feels right, so what you on for the night, baby?”
As he slowly removed your dress, he fell in love again right then and there, you looked pure, perfect, untamed, and for him only, kissing your collarbones all the way up to your mouth where he gave you a messy and passionate kiss. Feeling the warm skin against his palms, he wanted to capture the moment forever, trace every curve and imperfection on you. “So pretty and sexy for me baby, want it all, anything you're willing to give me as long as you say it.” 
“If you don't mind, you should try to stay the night. Because I'm willing to let you do anything you want, I'll let you make this the moment of your life…” you say, removing his shirt and tracing over his pecks, kissing his soft skin, watching as goosebumps appear, hearing him let out a grunt before diving back to kissing your lips. 
“Anything the birthday girl wants… she’ll get…” 
yourusername 🔒
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liked by: judebellingham, ellaaaooo, yourfriend, others.
yourusername: grateful to see another year, cheers 🥂
comments:
ellaaaooo: cheers to us indeed! happy birfday 🤩😍
↪️ yourusername: love you babes! thank you for today! 🤍
judebellingham: love you princess. cheers to another year, can’t wait for the next one! 😉😍😘
↪️ yourusername: thank you for the roses! mi principe! 🤍😍
user: happy b-day! 🎂
liked by you.
yourfriend: #milf 😵‍💫. #ursosexy. #savemesomecake.
↪️ yourusername: love you pretty 😂🤍
otherfriend: SKSKDNNDN HAPPY MF BIRTHDAY 🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️
↪️ yourusername: NDNNDNEJ THANK YOUU!! 🤍🤍
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liked by: yourusername, ellaaaooo, gioreyna, camavinga, auroleitchuameli, jobebellingham, yourfriend, user388, and 1,876,456 others.
judebellingham: mi flor. mi motivo. mi amor. mi maestra de español. 🌸❤️
comments:
yourusername 🔒: te amo guapo! y era secreto de nosotros…
↪️ judebellingham: oops, tenían que saber que tu eres mía y para mi 👀❤️
camavinga: congratulations bro! ❤️
↪️ judebellingham: thanks bro! ❤️ camavinga oh ohhh camavinga oh ohh 🗣️🗣️
↪️ yourusername 🔒: ignore him… thank you!
gioreyna: it’s official!! happy for you two!
↪️ judebellingham: thank you! cheers mate! ❤️
↪️ yourusername 🔒: 🤍
jobebellingham: THANK GOD @YOURUSERNAME!! he was driving me nuts with him being sad and emo…
↪️ yourusername 🔒: LMFOAOSOOS 😂😭
↪️ judebellingham: shut it. or i’ll tell mom about last weekend.
↪️ jobebellingham: 🧍��‍♂️
user839: we lost him girlies… 💔
user7907: HES TAKEN? WTF? I CANNOT COPE THIS???
user34: she’s so gorgeous 😍
user6656: rue… when was this?
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madelynraemunson · 1 month
Note
i neeeed you to hear me out on this one okay. okay okay so the song is casual by chappell roan and its about like being super intimate w a guy but he still tells his friends you're just a casual fuck. like some of the lyrics are "i've heard so many rumors that i'm just a girl that you bang on your couch" and "knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out, is it casual now?" so like. eddie munson. angst. and reader whos fed up with him being so cocky to his friends ab how he gets her off while he brushes her off. PLEASE hear me out 🫣
IM HEARING YOU ALL THE WAY OUT 😩😩🗣️
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(as someone who dated a literal INCEL in high school who was charismatic to all and manipulative to none but me this fucking triggered me. i see you boo)
CW: misogynist behavior, adult themes, 18+ minors DNI
eddie sweetie, this isn't you :( but without further a due...
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"If you have to go around telling people that you're a good person, you probably aren’t a good person."
incel!asshole!modern!eddie x fem!innocent!reader
WC: 1.3k words | part two here
Ever since you became exclusive with the ‘Town Freak’, your friends have constantly been ripping your ass a new one.
They were all so wrong about Eddie Munson. Because beneath the rugged, edgy persona he likes to put on every day (spewing his ‘Abolish-The-Status-Quo’ Manifesto atop an unsteady table in the cafeteria) lies a woman-worshipping gentleman, a soft, romantic, misunderstood love-sick puppy who would do just about anything to know you like the back of his hand.
Your dream boy.
"No one ever wants to date the nice guy," Eddie would say to you, alluding to himself. You’d constantly deny his claim. “But the jocks? The rabbits in band? The chess club dweebs? Oh yeah, without a doubt. Anyone but the freak."
It all made you think Eddie was created perfectly for you. That there was some sort of invisible string in the halls of Hawkins High, waiting for just the right moment to pull you two together. And when you two kissed that one day after detention, his hands snaked gently around your waist behind the rusty, faded bleachers out by the stadium, it felt like a match made in heaven.
“You gonna be my girl?” Eddie grinned into you, stroking your cheek, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Mine and mine only?”
“Yours,” you whispered breathlessly to him before reeling him in for another blissful peck.
And soon, lonely afternoons in study hall turned into D&D campaigns with him and his friends. Mundane weekend errands turned into fishing trips with him and Wayne. And soon quiet, anxious car rides became karaoke and head-banging sessions. Once aimless and confused, lost in the melody of life, suddenly all the love songs were about Eddie. You finally found the one.
It all leads you to believe your friends were just jealous of you. True friends would be over the moon.
This afternoon you had a surprise for Eddie. Just last week, you lost your virginity to him and were still swooning over how caring and tender he was with you. Surely, that is the bare minimum for a guy, but the bare minimum is so hard to come by nowadays. Cookies for Discord night with his friends was the least you can do to show how much you appreciate your boyfriend.
After extracurriculars, you rush home to get the oven going, throwing down in the kitchen to make the best snickerdoodles Eddie will ever have. And after one last look in the mirror, fixing your flirty skirt and your plump glossy lips, you set off to Forrest Hills Trailer Park.
Eddie has his headset on so he doesn’t hear your multiple knocks at the door. You knew he would be home though, dude’s got nowhere else to be on a Friday night. Eventually, you decide to hobble out back, looking through one of the windows by the kitchen that he always cracked open just so he doesn’t hotbox the place.
“I’m right behind you, right behind you!” Eddie warns his friends as he nears them in the game. “Gonna need some backup from Gareth the Great.”
Since he’s focused on his electronics, you decide to shoot him a text message. Hopefully then he’ll come to the door.
Hi baby 💕 I brought you some homemade snickerdoodles :)
You can’t help but smile when you hear your custom text-tone go off. But, to your surprise, you watch as Eddie turns a blind eye, chucking his phone onto the nearby couch instead of answering your text.
What the fuck?
"Ugh. She's texting me again," your boyfriend grumbles to the boys as he proceeds with the game. "She's kinda annoying, to be honest. Gonna wait a while before I respond.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Pressing your ear against the mesh blinds that separated you two from each other, you decide to listen in for a while longer.
“Don’t you think you’re stringing her along, Eds?”
Yeah, don’t you think? you think to yourself.
“Yeah, but… free pink,” Eddie sneers with a tsk and shrug. “However I want, whenever I want. She just makes it so easy.”
Eddie then starts to spill the details of taking your virginity, about how you were “chimping out” underneath him on his couch while Wayne was sleeping. What was a sacred ordeal to you was made to sound like a cheap, subpar experience to Eddie. His commentary sends the boys into a spiral, fits of hooting and hollering like it was the best stand-up bit they’ve heard in a long time. Resentment simmers within you. This can’t be the same boy.
“How’d you get a pretty girl like that anyway?” comes another voice in the call.
“Pretty fucking easy,” Eddie scoffs. “You just tell her exactly what she wants to hear. Just say what she says right back to her and the panties come right off. She’ll think you’re soulmates.”
The room erupts with virtual laughter, followed by obnoxious sound effects that the app enables users to send to one another. Your stomach begins to twist, the forbidden cookie dough you ingested just an hour prior threatening to make its way back up.
“HAHAHA,” someone in the chat cackles. “Eds will do anything for that roast beef.”
“I’ve always been keen on them deli meats. Am I right, boys?”
The snickering commences again. Eddie thanks the Discord guys as they extol him in compliments, encouraging him to write a playbook on how to get a proper lay. Eddie ends up shutting down the idea. But not because he thinks it’s fucked. No. It’s because he claims he doesn’t “have to try” and that you just “put out” at the drop of a hat.
The tray of Eddie’s undeserved cookies shakes in your hands as your body begins to tremble. You’re going to be sick. And just when you think it can’t get anymore twisted, it does.
“Hey, what do you think about that girl from math class with the fat ass?”
“Harmony?”
“Yeah.”
“God if she’s into me too I’d dump my girl in a heartbeat,” Eddie swoons.
Of course he’d gawk over Harmony. Outside of Tammy Thompson and Chrissy Cunningham, Harmony Heathers was next up to bat for the Queen of Hawkins High.
“She’s got fucking beanbags where her ass should be. I’d do just about anything for her.”
“And her.”
“Yeah and I’d do her.”
"I'd do her too," Eddie admits.
That’s enough.
You’ve heard enough to know that Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was just like the rest. Throwing the snickerdoodle cookies you made for him into the trash, you sprint back to your car and set off for your house, music blaring the entirety of the commute.
My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around
I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch
You slam the door to your room the moment you get home. And before stripping down and hopping into the safety of a warm shower, you send Eddie one last text.
Actually, you know what? It’s over. Don’t talk to me ever again.
Washing the grossness off of you was the only way you felt you could feel okay.
You wanted the remnants of Eddie OFF of your body. Hysterically sobbing, you attempt scrub off all the dead skin on your body with a loofah. Frustrated tears roll down your face.
I thought you thought of me better, Someone you couldn't lose
You wanted all the dead cells off of you. You wanted a new body. You wanted a new life.
And you couldn’t wait to grow newer, thicker skin. A new shell of you. It will be skin that Eddie can never say he touched.
You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss,
Fuck Eddie Munson.
I have anger issues
You give the weird kid a chance, and then suddenly he acts like you’re the freak.
317 notes · View notes
astridthevalkyrie · 19 days
Text
your match is made | xavier x reader
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“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.” “Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—” “I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.” “Stop,” you whisper. But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”
cw: fluff, like that's it that's literally it this is so fluffy
word count: 6.6k
a/n: lyric credits used in this fic: téir abhaile riú by celtic woman <- fire song btw, listen to bless your ears, it also sets the vibe of this fic very nicely tbh. jeremiah's my favorite boyfailure.
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Lanterns hang from every available line in and around the town square, brightening any block lucky enough to fall under its horizon. In every corner and roadblock, there are carts littering the streets, dozens upon dozens of merchants calling out their best prices on their finest goods, all the way from fabrics stitched by the very same threads used for the royals’ robes, to common sweet chocolates that all the teenagers are purchasing in bulk to share with their friends and younger siblings. There is room to move around, but there is not a single area that is not bustling with people, either trying to purchase steamed corn from the stalls or simply enjoying the festivities with their families. And in the center of it all, the bards play with such finesse that their fingers may as well be the source of the music rather than the instruments. 
Such is the celebration of lights, a celebration of the light. Of Philos, of this miracle that humanity has been gifted with. Every year without fail, the people gather in the town square to commemorate this historic occasion, and every year without fail, it is the grandest jamboree you have ever bore witness to.
“C’mon, Xavier,” Jeremiah protests out loud, “what would be the point of having the crown prince with us if he refuses to pay for our meals?”
Xavier simply shakes his head, the serene smile never leaving his face as he denies Jeremiah for the third time tonight—he clearly derives great pleasure from doing it. “I’d hate to rob you of the chance to participate in Philos’ market tonight of all nights.”
Jeremiah groans at his right, and from Xavier’s left, you giggle. It’s the same routine every single year, and at every occasion to be honest, and yet Jeremiah never stops trying to emphasize the difference in his wealth versus the royal family’s. Xavier, who you think would give his last dime to an ant if it looked hungry enough, looks like he loves refusing Jeremiah more than participating in any one of the activities tonight. 
The spicy aroma of rice cakes fills your senses then, and you let out a longing sigh as you look to the stall decorated with steaming bowls on all sides. “I’m starting to get hungry too, now.”
Both of them follow your gaze, where the vendor is hurriedly turning this way and that to discuss prices and accept payments, while three of his chefs work in the back, delivering more as the demand increases. Xavier hums quietly, then takes out a small black pouch from his pocket.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to eat.” He holds out the bag for you to take, but before you can, Jeremiah scoffs, loudly.
“Oh, that’s sick.” He points an accusing finger at the prince. “That’s sick! If you keep playing favorites, you’re going to get betrayed when you take the throne, I hope you know. I swear I’m going to lead a revolution against you myself.”
“Do you really think my grandis knight would ever let you harm me?” Xavier shoots back, and you beam as Jeremiah rolls his eyes, snatching the pouch straight out of his fingers.
“I’ll take this, and I’m going to get two”—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—”two bowls, and I’m not sharing. Your grandis knight can split her portion with you.” With that, he stomps off in a huff, leaving Xavier with his head tilted and a confused expression on his face.
“I don’t understand. There should be enough coins for three bowls.”
“He’ll get you a bowl.” You raise your voice enough for Jeremiah to hear as he walks. “He’s very grateful that you offered your money, isn’t that right, Jermy?”
Jeremiah makes a rude gesture without even turning back to face you, and you laugh, grabbing Xavier’s wrist to follow him. If it were any other member of the royal family, they’d be getting swarmed right about now, and would likely require at least ten guards to stand around them at all times to ward people off. That is how the king and queen sit, a few blocks away from the main festival, up on a platform elevated high enough that no one could think to climb it, with Lightseekers both in front of them and on the ground, safe and observing the celebration from a distance. Philos’ crown prince is different. Xavier is out in the town with the common folk so frequently that he’s almost lost all the celebrity status his title comes with. Of course, that makes him popular in an entirely different way. The people in the market always seem happy that someone of such high status would lower himself enough to walk and talk amongst them.
His hand slips lower as the two of you go after Jeremiah, warm fingers intertwining with yours. You think little of it, reckoning he doesn’t want to get separated with so many people around. Xavier isn’t one to shy away from touch, at any rate. Once you spar with someone enough, it’s only natural to become physically comfortable with one another. He places his hands on your shoulders when he wants to guide you somewhere, bandages your cuts with his own calloused palms, presses his lips to your forehead to check whether you’re sick or not. In the face of all that, him holding your hand while running through a bustling crowd is hardly surprising.
Jeremiah is waving the pouch in the air hopelessly, trying to be noticed amongst the rest, when the vendor spots the two of you. “Xavier!” he calls happily. “Good timing, I have a fresh bowl ready just for you!”
“Unbelievable,” your chestnut-haired friend mutters under his breath, elbowing you as you laugh at his misfortune. Xavier steps closer, and you see him hold up two fingers to ask for more. When he points over, you wave to the vendor, who waves back before calling out instructions over his shoulder. In almost an instant, he has three steaming bowls filled with rice cakes ready for you to take. Your mouth almost waters at the sight. 
Xavier picks up one of them to offer to you, which you take gratefully. Taking a few steps to the side to avoid crashing into anyone, the three of you find a relatively less crowded place to dig in. 
Before you can take a heaping sip from the spoon, he gently takes your wrist and blows on the hot broth, meeting your eyes with a soft, concerned look. “Be careful.”
“I’m always careful,” you remind him teasingly, but blow some air of your own onto the spoon before finally digging in. As the flavors explode inside your palate, you hold back a moan at how good it tastes.
“Miss Knight!” a high-pitched voice calls out, and you turn in time to see a tiny pink blur moving past people’s legs. 
“Adelaide!” You hand your bowl to Jeremiah, who passes it to Xavier without even blinking, and kneel down to catch the blur in your arms. “Look at you, you look so pretty! I love your dress!”
The little girl’s eyes light up at the compliment. “Thank you! Miss Knight,” she bounces up and down eagerly, “I made something for you!” In her hands, she holds out a product of one of the several craft stalls set up for the children during the festival, a simple but elegant flower crown that she holds out like a grand prize. And from how your heart melts, it may as well be. 
“Oh, how beautiful. Thank you so much. Would you put it on for me?” You tilt your head down, and she places it on with all the care a child of six years would have. You know you’ll have a difficult time getting it out in a while after the flowers tangle with your hair, but you don’t mind at all. Adelaide is your favorite person to visit whenever the three of you come to town, the daughter of the seamstress who makes your uniforms, and you’d do anything to see her smile the way she is now.
“You look like a princess,” she says in awe. Your cheeks warm, and you stand up, gesturing to the other two.
“Speaking of which, you remember Xavier and Jeremiah, don’t you?”
Her small hands grip your dress robes as she hides behind your legs, peeking out at them. Xavier, with both his hands occupied holding your bowl and his own, merely smiles encouragingly at her, while Jeremiah waves. “Hiya, Adelaide. Your dress looks awesome!”
From the corner of your eye, you see her face turn bright red, and right as you’re about to coo inwardly about her adorable little crush, you hear someone calling her name. All your heads turn, as an older blonde boy, out of breath, almost pushes past people in his rush to run to her. 
“I told you not to run off like that! You could get lost—oh.” He stops short when he sees you, blinking as the color returns to his cheeks after his run. “H-hi there.”
“Hi, Neville.” You smile at Adelaide’s older brother, who’s almost always around when you visit. “Enjoying the celebration?”
“Definitely—I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you, I was helping Mother with her stall, a-and I didn’t know your master would give you the night off.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And the grandis knight is at the king’s side, he could hardly stay to train me on such an important night.”
“Right.” He stands with his hands on Adelaide’s shoulders, only staring, seemingly forgetting why he’s there in the first place. For a few moments, no words are said at all.
Right when you’re about to cough awkwardly, he snaps back to attention. “Um, would you like to dance?”
“She can’t,” Xavier says immediately, almost making you jump. He’s almost right behind you, looming over your shoulder and staring Neville straight in the eyes with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. 
“Xavier!” The blonde bows clumsily (and unnecessarily) before straightening up, an unspoken question in his eyes. He looks between you and Xavier, and while you hadn’t been planning to agree to his request in the first place, you look at Xavier curiously as well. He’s never before dictated what you do during the celebration, whether you’re with him and Jeremiah or with some of the others in your class. 
“She can’t,” he says again, a bit more softly, “she can’t, because…” He takes one glance at you, then down at the two bowls in his hand, then looks back up. “She’s already going to dance with Jeremiah.”
“What?” both you and your supposed dance partner question at the same time. 
“You’ve been meaning to ask her to dance the whole night.” Xavier’s blue eyes fall on Jeremiah, with a pointed gaze. “This song is about to end, I think now is as good a time as any.”
“But I’m eating!” he whines, shaking the bowl in his hands as though to beg Xavier to take pity on him.
“I’d be happy to dance with her before Jeremiah steps in—” Neville offers, but he’s cut off by Xavier again, and this time his voice is icier, and his eyes are narrowed on Jeremiah who’s pouting at him.
“No, I think Jeremiah should do it now before it’s too late.”
Whatever message he’s trying to get across, Jeremiah clearly understands it, groaning and taking one last sip before grabbing your hand and tugging you to the main grounds. You’re only slightly irked that no one actually waited for your answer on whether you wanted to dance or not. But you’re more confused than anything else. Just a few minutes ago, both of them were fine, what could have happened so soon to make Xavier sound so cold?
“Have you really been meaning to ask me to dance all night?” you try asking, but Jeremiah only rolls his eyes.
“Please shut up. I already have to deal with His Majesty the Oblivious Idiot tonight, I can’t deal with both of you.”
“What are you talking about—”
“Miss Grandis Knight!” one of the bards, the violinist, waves to you. You’re momentarily distracted, smiling at her. It’s quite nice, if maybe a bit egotistical, to hear anyone call you what you’re trying so hard to be even when you haven’t achieved it yet. “Coming to dance?”
“I am!” you shout back cheerfully. “Give me a good one!”
She thinks for a few seconds, then makes a motion to the other musicians. Placing the violin against her collarbone delicately, she begins to pluck a familiar tune, one that has you lighting up and has the crowd cheering. Even Jeremiah grins as the two of you face each other, both of you well versed in proper dance etiquette from taking the same classes growing up. 
First, he bows, mimicked by the other men in the large circle that’s formed, extending a hand to their dance partners. Then you, and the other ladies, curtsy, and with a light step you take his hand and begin the dance. The bards begin to sing the contagious melody, as you and Jeremiah step in place, back and forth, your arms extending then coming together, before he twirls you under his arm. Both of you are laughing for no real reason, perhaps aside from how frivolous this is compared to the fighting techniques you’re usually partaking in together.
The song builds, and builds, and his hands slip to your waist, helping you leap across him before he ducks his head dramatically. The violinist calls your name, pointing at you to sing the next verse. Through your giggles, your cheeks warm at the attention, but you oblige.
Swishing your dress around you, you bounce off Jeremiah, pointing at him with a flourish. “Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway where—” Your eye catches Xavier’s, who’s watching you as though you’re the main event. With everyone else’s attention already on you, you’re not sure if you can possibly take any more, but something about his gaze makes your chest feel lighter, as though in this celebration of lights, the real light is the one staring at you, the one who has eyes for no one else. “There's fine sailors walking the town, and waiting to meet the ladies there!”
The bards take over the song again, yet the spell doesn’t break. As Jeremiah twirls you again and hands you off to the next man, switching dance partners easily, you beckon Xavier towards you, urging him to join. 
The night is young, you try to convey to him wordlessly, and I don’t want to be without you.
He steps forward, as you switch dance partners again. While you hadn’t meant to dance in the first place, it makes you feel lightheaded in a good way. The movements you have to do are light as opposed to rough and unforgiving on your muscles, and the alternating hands on your body handle you as gently as possible instead of trying to seek out all your weak points. 
Your head tilts to the side, trying to see if Xavier entered the fray or not. You’ve lost sight of him, in a different part of the circle now, and you can’t search properly without breaking the formation of the dance and ruining everyone’s fun. The next person you spin into ends up being Neville, who chuckles shyly and tells you, “Not bad, Miss Grandis Knight!”
His moves are far more stiff than Jeremiah’s, but far be it from you to judge when he hasn’t had formal training. The important thing is that he tries, and you still have fun, and besides, the song is ending now. You’re almost back to where you started in the circle, just one more spin and—
A familiar, calloused hand grazes yours, skimming down the side of your arm. You gasp at this touch, far more coarse than the others, and the only one to leave you breathless, not least because it’s accompanied by the striking blue of Xavier’s eyes. 
When he extends and brings you closer, it is more than just natural. Xavier is of royal blood, it is almost as if he was born to do this. Your feet step with his without you having to look down, so familiar with his balance and pace from years and years and years of sparring together. And not even once do you break away from his piercing gaze, because you’re nervous that if you do, he might just disappear.
The song comes to an end, with a final step forward and your hands on Xavier’s chest, and everyone erupts into cheers. The noise surrounding you makes the silence between you and him all the more deafening.
As the two of you simply stare at each other, breathing in sync, one of his hands reaches up, first resting on your cheek before then making its way up to gently adjust the flower crown that had slanted on your head while you were dancing. Once he fixes it, his head tilts down, just enough that his nose brushes against yours, and a smile forms on your lips.
“I am very pleased you joined, my liege.” Your eyes shine in gratitude.
Xavier opens his mouth to respond, and that’s exactly when Jeremiah chooses to slump against his shoulder, yawning. “Oh man, I’m spent. When do we go back to the academy?”
Xavier looks mildly disgruntled. “This is going to go on for hours,” you tell him, frowning, “we can’t leave now. Besides, the fireworks will start soon.”
“Another dance?” the crown prince suggests, sliding your palm into his. 
Jeremiah gives him an unimpressed look. “Give it a rest.”
Stepping past the two of them, you look at all the tables mostly occupied by children being distracted by someone painting little butterflies and stars on their faces or the tiny flutes that are passed out for them to blow into. One of the pastry vendors is handing out baked goods for free, and while you didn’t actually get any chance to eat earlier, you want to find something to actually do. You’re not tired after dancing; on the contrary, now you’re restless and brimming with energy. 
“Come on,” you declare readily, taking both their hands and pulling them into the ruckus. Your boys have little choice but to come along with you. Your feet will start to ache soon too, you’re sure. But for now, while they don’t, and while the way Xavier was staring at you is still burned into your mind, you want to enjoy yourself.
Once again, his fingers tangle with yours, clinging to your hand warmly—a stark difference to Jeremiah’s, which you have to grip onto harder to make sure he doesn’t get left behind. He whines and complains the whole time, telling you he’s sore all over and that the three of you should try and beat the rush by leaving early. You’re used to this routine every year, so you’re not fazed. Nor is he serious, because even though you could physically force him to stay, Jeremiah never tries to leave until you and Xavier are good and ready.
As you run, different students in your section call out to you and Jeremiah. People are just slightly more hesitant to address Xavier directly, but you’ve never understood such a thing. The last thing he is is intimidating. Well, maybe place a sword in his hand and he becomes slightly fearsome (to everyone except you). There’s still no need to pretend that Xavier ever struts around demanding everyone show him the highest respects. He’s the furthest thing from arrogant.
It makes you feel proud, really, knowing you’ll be in the service of Philos’ greatest king.
“Xavier!” someone finally calls out. For a second, you’re thrilled, until you see who it is, and your face falls.
The title of grandis knight comes with a certain authority. Not one that you actually have yet, of course, but people respect the current holder of the position, and as his prized mentee, that respect teeters down to you most of the time. 
Keyword being most.
Just a few months back, you and Lillia had been close friends. You weren’t as close to her as you were to Xavier and Jeremiah, but she was still someone you confided in. You knew a few personal things about her, and she knew a few personal things about you. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t a guy, or your trainer, or one of the older students. Just another girl around your age training to become a Lightseeker.
But you should have realized that the respect you garnered by swearing to be the future king’s bodyguard came with a reasonable risk of betrayal as well. And yes, betrayal is a strong word. Technically, nothing happened. There is no accusation you can level at her. At least not without someone calling you hysterical, and that’s hardly needed when you’re already a woman seeking the highest position in the court, second only to the king himself.
It had come down to one night, with just you and her sitting and talking about nothing in particular, when she had leaned in and asked you something.
“So do you like anyone?”
It had been a quiet night, and the two of you had been the only ones awake, holed up in an old classroom, so you hadn’t thought any consequences could come from speaking truthfully—or at least, what you had genuinely believed to be the truth.
“Not really.” You’d shrugged, leaning back on the desk you were sitting on, putting your weight on your palms. “Most of the people in our section aren’t really my type.”
“Really?” Lillia had smiled slyly. “Not even Xavier?”
Your nose had wrinkled—not in disgust, just confusion. “Xavier? Why?”
“What do you mean? You two spend all your time together. You’re always sparring. Doesn’t romantic tension build up after something like that?”
“Maybe if we were equally matched,” you’d huffed, shaking your head, “I always beat him, I certainly don’t feel any tension. Besides, he’s going to be king. And I’m trying my best to be his grandis knight. We could never be in a relationship even if we wanted to be.”
“So you don’t have any interest in him?” she’d asked, a little more forcefully. You’d thought nothing of it at the time. 
“I mean…” Your stomach had twisted a bit uncomfortably and you’d averted your gaze. “If you had a sword to my neck, if I had to choose someone…”
And it had forced you to think about it. A far off scenario, if he wasn’t going to be the king, or if you weren’t going to be the grandis knight, or maybe both. It had been difficult to see Prince Xavier as anything else, but…it wasn’t impossible. If you were both just students, or partners, or even if you worked at that bakery that he loved to frequent. 
If you were just a normal person, and he was as common as everyone else, the first thing you’d thought you’d notice about him would be his eyes. It’s what you notice about him most of the time regardless. He has nice eyes. They have a sincerity in them that most people lack. And he looks at you a lot, so you would know.
He’s not bad to look at either. And he’s kind. A good leader. With a precious heart. And skilled fingers—
Blinking out of the hypnotic thoughts you’d fallen into, you’d hidden your suddenly flustered state as best you could and simply answered, “I suppose if I had to choose to love someone, I’d choose Xavier.”
And that had been that. Or so you thought. Everything had been alright, at least.
Until the next morning, when you’d walked out of your class and seen Lillia’s arms around Xavier’s neck. 
For a second, it had felt like Philos stopped turning on its axis. 
It wasn’t like Xavier had reciprocated. But that was only because he had been too polite to shove her away, and it would’ve been inappropriate to engage in anything further. Crown prince or not, he was still a guy, and obviously a pretty girl pressed into him in such a way would interest him.
And Lillia had caught your eye, and smiled triumphantly, as though to say well, if you don’t want him, then…
Even though you hadn’t said you didn’t want him. Well, you had said you weren’t interested, yes. But you had also told her that if someone held a blaster to your face if you didn’t cherish someone, then you would cherish Xavier. And maybe that hadn’t been a confession, but it hadn’t been you giving her permission to pursue him either. Not that she needed your permission, because it wasn’t like you had a claim on him, and it wasn’t supposed to make your chest burn that he, even for a second, looked at anyone else the way he looked at you.
You hadn’t confided your weak feelings to anyone else after that.
“Hi, Lillia,” Xavier says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize until now that the three of you had approached her. “What’s this booth for?”
“Oh, it’s amazing,” she gushes, wrapping her hands around his arm and tugging. Your eye twitches. “She’s a fortuneteller. For just a few copper pieces, she’ll answer any one question you want to know about your life.”
“Really?” he asks softly, and all your gazes shift to the woman who bows her head to the prince, sitting in her chair with a purple drape over the small table in front of her. “I’m not sure what I’d want to ask.”
Lillia smirks in a way that makes you uneasy. “Well, I asked about my future partner.”
“Partner? For sparring?”
“For marrying, you dolt,” Jeremiah snorts, “c’mon, Xav, sit down and let’s see which unlucky soul gets to be queen of Philos.”
You’re nervous that he will, and you’re nervous that you won’t like the answer. Because it wouldn’t be you, you’re sure of that. And you shouldn’t want it to be you. That doesn’t mean you think he should be with her, either. What business did Lillia have pursuing Xavier, at any rate? She was training to be a Lightseeker too—but of course, the average knight did not have the same restrictions the grandis knight did—not that it matters because you have no say regardless—
But Xavier shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. My future partner will simply be…whoever the kingdom deems the loveliest of the lot.”
Your heart both inflates and deflates at his response. On one hand, you hadn’t wanted him to have his fortune read, for fear of heartbreak. On the other hand, a part of you had foolishly hoped that he would have the same option to love like everyone else did.
“You should do it,” Jeremiah nudges you with his elbow. Before you can protest, Lillia’s eyes light up.
“Oh, yes, you should! Here, come sit.” 
“Um, I don’t know.” Warily, you gaze over at the fortuneteller, who merely gives you a serene smile. “Is she going to give me someone’s name?”
“No, just a description. She told me my future partner would be someone of noble descent.” Lillia beams, showing off her too-perfect teeth, and suddenly you feel inadequate. You know what she’s implying, even if Xavier doesn’t. After all, there are very few people who would match that description.
So, not wanting to seem like a coward, because the king’s sword is anything but a coward, you step forward, sitting down in the leathery chair. You’re about to reach for your pocket to take out the copper pieces, when Xavier reaches over and places them in the fortuneteller’s palm, giving you an encouraging look that makes your heart sink. Perhaps you should have listened to Jeremiah earlier and called it a night.
When the woman takes your hand, she closes her eyes, running her thumb back and forth against your calluses. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you try not to move a muscle. For some reason, it feels like if you so much as twitch, you’ll get the wrong answers, and you’re not even sure what the right answers are. 
Her eyes open, piercing yours with a startling gaze. “Fascinating,” she murmurs, “I see three things about your lover.”
To hear that word—lover, instead of spouse or partner, makes your entire face feel hot. Lillia giggles, saying something under her breath that you don’t catch but makes you feel violent tendencies nonetheless.
“First, he is someone held in very high regard by all around him.”
Oh no.
“Second, a longsword is his weapon of choice.”
Oh no.
“And third, you have known him all your life.”
Well, she may as well have just screamed Xavier’s name at the top of her lungs.
Everyone is silent for a few seconds. There is a heavy pause in the air, because who else could she be referring to? Who else fits that exact description? All Lillia was told was she’d be with someone of noble descent, which could be at least a few people. The painful beating in your chest is onset because there is only one person that your fortune fits. 
You know it, he knows it, even Jeremiah and Lillia know it. 
So you do the only thing you can do. You calmly stand up, offer the fortuneteller a tight-lipped smile, and turn on your heel and run.
Behind you, a few different people call your name, though you note distinctly that Xavier isn’t one of them. After that, even if other people are still recognizing you and trying to get your attention, you can barely think straight enough to identify their voices, let alone respond. You run, out of the town square, out of the festival, out of the sight of anyone who could possibly perceive you.
You run as far as you can before your legs start aching, which, unfortunately for you, takes a long time with your endurance training. By the time you feel even a twinge resembling pain, you’ve already made it a far distance away from the celebration, near the seamstress’ shop. 
With gritted teeth, you heave yourself over the fence, knowing you’re more than welcome in her garden. It’s luscious, orange and lavender chrysanthemums in the center stealing the spotlight from all the other flowers. Instead of going towards them, you curl up next to the lilies, because you already feel unremarkable enough.
It’s not that you think Xavier would be disgusted by you. The two of you are friends—but that’s exactly it, the major problem of having feelings for him. Besides the fact that you are supposed to brandish your sword in his name, you cannot like him because you’d rather die than lose your best friend. You couldn’t even say how long you’ve known him, but you do know that he’s the best part of your life. Not for anyone would you bow your head. Not for anyone would you lay your life down. You’ve observed Xavier for years and years and there is not a single other person in the royal family that you would follow into any battle, through any world, past any planet. 
You groan, burying your face in between your knees. At some point in between the months Lillia first asked you about him and now, you’ve gone beyond just considering him as more than a friend. You’ve even got past having a measly crush on him.
You’re in love with Xavier, and it’s awful.
Breathing slowly, you gaze up at the night sky, where the fireworks have still not made their appearance. The wind teases the flowers around you, making them tilt a little to the left, which is oddly how you feel too. Not uprooted, but bent, just like a flower. 
With a blade of grass in between your fingers, you follow the direction the flowers are blowing in, only to find yourself staring at shining ceruleans.
“Xavier!” you gasp, eyes widening with a start. You move to stand as a reflex, but he raises a single hand, and you stop.
There isn’t a single bead of sweat on his face. He is breathing a little raggedly, and his uniform is stained with some sap he must’ve not been able to avoid from the bushes on the way over. His face—well, his face is pristine as always, there isn’t a moment when the prince of Philos looks anything less than dreamy. But it’s not his features you’re gazing at, but the concerned expression upon them, directed straight at you, with caring eyes and pinched brows.
You almost want to cry just at the thought you’ve worried him.
“Are you alright?” His voice is quiet, cautious, fragile. Like you may break if he’s too forceful in his questioning.
“Yes, fine,” you reply automatically, though you suppose you now have to make up a story for why on Philos you ran away like a child, especially because he sits next to you, knees raised in the same manner as yours.
“I was merely…overwhelmed, by the crowd.” The explanation sounds weak even as your tongue speaks it, but you cannot think of any other reason for your actions. At least this is easier than the truth. Anything is easier than the truth.
For a few seconds, there is silence, and as uncomfortable as this already is, you can’t bear it. So you turn to look at him, and you realize with burning cheeks you realize he is staring right back. You don’t even think he’s looked at the blossoming flowers even once; his head seems to be fixated in your direction.
“I know you constantly score better than me,” Xavier says softly, “but I am not foolish.”
With a hesitant hand, as though he’s asking for permission, he reaches up to once again adjust the flower crown on your head. Your heart falls, and you really should’ve known better to think Xavier could not read you like an open book, especially after a fortuneteller quite literally did read you like an open book.
“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.”
“Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—”
“I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.”
“Stop,” you whisper.
But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”
Your lower lip trembles. Never once did you take him for the cruel type. There is no rule nor reasoning for this, to utterly expose your feelings even more and mock you for them, and if you sit here any longer you’re afraid you will begin to sob, and then not only will your friendship with Xavier be at risk, but your future position as well. The grandis knight cannot be weak. The grandis knight cannot shed tears for such silly matters as love. 
To preserve your role, to preserve your reputation and your dignity, you make to stand, to run even farther this time, but Xavier holds your wrist before you can, tugging you back to face him. There is no cruelty in his expression, in fact there is a tenderness as though he is somehow touched by your very clear devotion to him. 
His finger tilts your chin up, unwittingly making you demand a respect you don’t believe you deserve right now. His brow is pinched, as though he’s upset that you would let anyone, even him, turn you soft as a dandelion.
“I also know,” he breathes, “that this kingdom finds you incredibly lovely.” 
The world seems to stop.
“As…” Xavier’s hand rests itself on your cheek, and the most beautiful smile lights up his face as he murmurs, “Do I.” 
You lean in the same time he does, and faintly you hear fireworks erupt as you kiss the prince of Philos for the first time. 
The world is quiet, and so, so, so loud. Blood rushes to your face and to your ears, and you ignore it by placing both your hands on his cheeks, whimpering softly at how good he tastes. Every burning feeling and sensation you’ve felt in his presence these past few months, and really, your entire life, all seem to explode in this moment. The world is blue, and white, and Xavier.
His lips move so gently against yours, once again acting as though you are fragile, but it feels good this time, the idea of being something so precious as to require care for him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your cheek, you can barely pull away from him to assure him that he can be more forceful if he wishes, more wanting, more greedy. 
“Please,” he whispers against your lips, asking for what you aren’t sure, but you nod your head regardless, because you’d think you’d give him your very soul if he were to ask.
When you do pull back, he is looking at you so longingly it makes you more breathless than even dancing you did earlier. His gray-blonde hair nearly conceals his eyes, so you brush it from his face, breath hitching at his proximity. You’ve always known that he’s the apple of everyone’s eye, but you’ve never had the privilege to admire him so closely before.
“I don’t need a fortuneteller to tell me who my partner is.” Xavier rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing. “Whether it’s for sparring, or marriage, or anything else. You are the only one I want with me, through everything.”
You’re surprised you can even muster words when you shyly respond, “Likewise, my liege.”
His eyes shine, and the two of you finally look up to admire the fireworks bursting across the sky in incredible explosions of color. They pale in comparison to the eruption within you, but they are magical nonetheless, and you lean your head against his shoulder to watch.
A gentle kiss is placed on top of your head. “I know we only celebrate this once a year. It is a special time. Still…” He meets your gaze again, and the corners of his lips turn upwards. Tonight, there is only you and him now, you’re sure of it. “Would you mind terribly if we were to ignore the fireworks?”
Maybe one day you will learn to resist him. You sincerely doubt it, though.
“Not at all. But the seamstress and her kids will probably be back soon.” You place a begrudging hand on his chest, not wanting to stop him, but trying to act proper regardless. “Neville checks on the garden every night. He might see us.”
Xavier seems to consider this for a second. 
“Oh well,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you again, “what a shame.”
He doesn’t sound very sorry at all, and amidst the soft glow of moonlight, you surrender to him, lost in your very own little celebration of lights.
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a/n: if i had a nickel for everytime i’ve written a character x reader story where they’re at a party and they dance together but then leave to have a nice moment by themselves i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?
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spooky-wisp · 4 days
Text
"I had to talk to you."
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Repost from other account
2.4k words
CW: Heavy flirtation, canon divergence (S4 end events didn't happen), College Student!Steve, Steve has shit eyesight
October 13th, 1989
Steve sighs, leaning back on the drivers side of his 1983 BMW. Burgundy paint starting to chip on the hood, the car becoming less appealing day by day. Girls passing by not even looking in his direction anymore. He was old news in Hawkins after people found out he had finally started at a college half an hour away in Fort Wayne. Just starting his life like everyone else did 4 years ago just wasn't appealing to most girls.
At least not Hawkins girls.
But at this point he didn't care. He was proud of himself for pulling his life together after all the bullshit he had been put through. With saving an entire town too many god damn times. Cutting his dad off when his parents divorced. Moving out to get a rented house with his best friend Robin. Just what he learned he needed over time.
Getting into a good school by himself with no help was just a cherry on top of the fuck you sundae he graciously served his past problems.
He was satisfied with what he had right now.
Dustin walks out of the new game shop in the newest strip mall to grace Hawkins. Steve looks up, pushing his Ray-Ban sunglasses onto his head.
"You made it out before, Robin. I'm surprised." Dustin glanced at the instrument shop a few doors down, then back to Steve. "You get what Eddie needed?"
"Mostly yeah. She's still getting her trumpet fixed?" Steve shrugs at Dustin's question and slides his sunglasses down in place again.
"She probably got distracted looking at something shiny and new. You know Robins crow brain sometimes." Dustin laughs, looking into his bag, shuffling a few things around inside.
Steve looked over at the liquor store at the end of the strip mall. Looking back at Dustin, he taps the top of the car. His head snapped up, eyes a bit surprised at the sudden noise.
"You want anything?" Steve asks, tilting his head back towards the store.
"Coke? If they got it." Dustin simply replied before getting in the back seat. Steve nods and walks to the liquor store.
The bell chimes over his head as he walks through the door. He takes in the warmth of the store and the radio playing over the speakers on the ceiling. Such a nice contrast to the crisp Autumn air outside.
He turns heading down an isle of assorted liquor bottles and bar accessories before finally stopping at the fridge. Humming along to the song over the radio, mumbling the lyrics to 'I wanna know what love is' absentmindedly.
Sliding his glasses down his nose, he squints at the selection. All the labels are blurry the farther he is, he steps forward rubbing his eyes and sure doesn't help with the florescent lighting blinding him from above.
God I need to get my eyes checked.
Opening the fridge, he grabs the 3 soft drinks and a 6-pack for later when he hears a metal scrapping and whoosh next to him. Followed by a muffled but panicked "Shit!"
Looking over, he sees the back of a squatting woman struggling with a metal shelf slipping out of one of the fridges.
Walking over, he quickly puts his things down and pushes the shelf back in. The metal shelf, cold against his warm skin as he reaches into the fridge, fixing the fasteners back into place.
An issue he's all too familiar with working at Family Video. The fridge racks always got loose and every time it happened he was always made to clean them up. He could only imagine the mess a bunch of glasses and beer would have made.
"Thank you so much!" The woman speaks as Steve stands up, slowly closing the door. Looking back, he finally sees your face. His lips slightly part as you continue talking, he can't hear a word you're saying right now.
All he can hear is the very oddly convenient Foreigner song playing over the store radio as he takes in every detail of your gorgeous face. From your shiny hair to your bright smile. The vibrant colored nail polish on your fingers you're waving as you talk. You're unfamiliar, he's never seen you before, but you're an absolute stunner of a woman.
Steve never thought of himself as a love at first sight kind of guy. But right now he was undoubtedly being proven wrong by the spark he was feeling, not to mention the nervous knot in his stomach.
"But really you're a life saver... Thank you." You stop talking, looking at him. Your face falls as he perks up, realizing he's just been staring like a complete idiot this entire time.
"You're welcome!" He spoke, choking almost over how inappropriately loud he was for a second. Feeling the effect of not talking to women for a while really hit him. You look down at his soon-to-be purchases.
"Full Sail Amber. Good beer." You comment, making him look at the floor and nod.
Crouching down, he grabs his things and stands cracking his head on one of the fridge door handles. His sunglasses fell off his face and onto the floor. He stands up wedging his soft drink between his side and arm. Rubbing his head with a hiss.
"You okay?" You ask with a slight chuckle. Bending down, you grab the sunglasses, Steve moves his hand, grabbing the bottom of the door handle to shield your head from injury.
"Yeah, thanks." Before he gets to put his hand out to take his Ray-Bans back, you slide them on his head with a soft smile.
God she's so fucking pretty.
"You're welcome. And thanks again for... Saving me from paying for a full shelf of beer." She turned down the isle to another part of the store.
Part of Steve wants to follow you and try chatting you up, but the slight embarrassment of hurting his head just keeps him from doing so.
He turns, goes to the front of the store and makes his purchases. Heading outside, he walks to his car, finally seeing Robin in her usual spot, the passenger seat. Opening the driver's door, he slips in.
"There you are!" Robin looked at him, her trumpet case in-between her legs on the floor of the car.
"What's with the face?" Dustin asks, Steve looking at him in the rearview, glaring.
"Shut up Henderson." He hands them their sodas, moving to close his car door when he hears the bell from the liquor store chime.
Out you walk, starting across the parking lot to a top-down red 86' Volkswagen Cabriolet. Steve freezes, staring again. He really can't help but stare.
"Oooh." Robin and Dustin both taunt him, making him sigh. He needs more friends, fewer annoying friends.
"She's pretty." Robin says looking at Dustin.
"Too pretty to talk to, apparently." Dustin adds, laughing as he looks back at Steve.
"I talked to her in the store." Dustin raised his eyebrows, pushing his baseball cap up a bit.
"You asked her out?"
"No." Steve watches you load your bag into the back seat and start pulling the top up on your car.
"Not too late!" Robin smiled, taking a sip of her drink. Dustin looked at her.
"He's not gonna do it."
"No, he's gonna do it."
Steve feels like he has a devil and an angel bickering on his shoulders right now. His foot meets the new asphalt of the parking lot as you open your driver's door.
He's quickly out of the driver's seat.
"Holy shit he's doing it." Dustin comments as he shuts the door on them.
He stops at the bumper of his car, hearing your car engine click over. Music pours out of your open windows before you turn it down quickly.
The universe is screaming at him to talk to you when he starts hearing that familiar Tears for Fears song, 'Head Over Heels'.
Please don't pull away, please don't pull away.
He nearly sprints across the parking lot out of fear of missing his chance. Upon reaching the car, he knocks on the back window, pulling you from looking for something in the console.
"Hi..." He says awkwardly, approaching the window. Leaning on the door, he smiles as you smile back.
"Hi. You need something?" He gets so agitated that you smirk up at him.
'Why'd you have to be so God damn pretty?'
"Sorry if this is weird, but I had to talk to you." He started, finally being able to say something. Your eyes go half shut with a soft nod.
"Talk to me?" He nods, clenching the door frame for a second. "Go ahead then. Talk."
His eyes go wide in surprise at your sudden confidence. Steve stammered for a second.
"Uh... At the risk of sounding crazy or desperate... You're probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life." You can feel your body warm up as he gives the most genuine smile you've seen on a man in a while.
"Mmhm, go on."
"Are you by chance single? Or like... Are you even attracted to men at all?" He asks, sheepishly smiling.
"Yes, and yes." Your smirk slowly turns into a grin as he squats to eye level now, feeling a bit more confident after your answer.
"I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington." He smiles again hearing you reply with your name. "Are you new to Hawkins?"
"I am actually. I just moved here from the city and needed to stay nearby for school."
"Where are you going?"
"Trine University." His eyes go wide, the same school he goes to. What are the odds?
"Really? I actually go there too. Education major." You look him up and down. You never pegged him for the teacher type.
"Software Engineering major."
"So you're smart and gorgeous. Good to know." He smirks, finally feeling like himself when talking as your flush finally becomes noticeable. "You like movies?"
"What kind of psychopath doesn't like movies?" He laughs at your response, leaning in closer to the window.
"Lemme be more specific. The new Halloween 5 movie came out today. You interested in seeing it? Maybe with me tonight at the drive-in theater in Lafayette. We can have dinner after. All my treat, of course." He can see the sparkle in your eyes, that spark he felt looking at you before is still lingering around him.
"What's in it for me?" You playfully ask. He cocks his head to the side, leaning it on his arm for a second.
"A fun night out with a gentleman, I promise I'm fun." You chuckle, rolling your eyes, he knows you want to say yes. "Please?"
He'd never said please before when asking a girl out. It didn't feel embarrassing like he thought it would. You turn your attention back to the console looking for something.
Pulling out a napkin and pen, you quickly write down your number and address. Turning back, you hold it out to him as he takes it.
"I'm free at 8. And dress nicely. You're taking me somewhere decent after the movie."
"I'll take you to the most expensive restaurant I can find if that's what you want. I don't care. As long as I get to see you again." You laugh at his bluntness, it's like music to his ears.
"That won't be necessary. I don't need to be spoiled."
"What if I want to spoil you?" That caught you off guard as you didn't respond right away. He let a soft breath escape his mouth. "You like roses?"
"White roses." You reply, he nods, standing up again and folding the napkin, storing it in his back jean pocket for safe keeping.
"I'll be sure to remember that." You two just stare at each other in silence for a minute. No man's ever looked at you like Steve has right now, it makes your heart race from nervousness.
"I'll see you at 8 o'clock then." You look past him for a moment and back to him. "Tell your friends I said hello since they like to stare so much."
Raising an eyebrow, Steve turned his head. He sees Robin poking her head over the roof of the car and Dustin sitting on the rolled down window frame. They quickly hurry back into the car, noticing they've been caught. He should be embarrassed, but he fully expects their behavior from being friends for so long.
"Ignore them." Steve says, sighing as he looks back at you. "I'll see you at 8."
He turned away towards his car, trying to stay as confident as he was before turning his back. Reaching his car, he pops the door open, clutching it for dear life as he silently collects himself. Robin poked her head across the driver's seat to look up at him.
"You good dude?" She asks, concerned but also excited as he just nods.
You pull out of your parking spot, stopping behind his car and honk once to get his attention. Dustin pops his head out the back window as Robin looks out her open door. Steves head snaps up at you as you lean on your window frame, chin on fist with the most shit eating grin on your face.
"See you at 8 sexy~" You called to him. And then you have the balls to blow him a kiss before peeling out of the parking lot.
Steve silently gets in the car. Robin shuts her door as Steve does his. Dustin sits forward looking at Steve, who's just gripping his steering wheel, the adrenaline starting to wear off.
"Dude, she's so into you, into you!" Dustin breaks the silence as Robin nods.
"And I'd say it's the same for Harrington here." Robin grins as a massive smile spreads across Steve's face.
He starts excitedly thrashing frontwards and backwards. Enough to shake the car and look like he's about to rip the steering wheel from it's column. He lets out an excited yell, causing his two friends to laugh at him.
He let out a long breath, looking at them.
"She says hi by the way."
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