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calumfmu · 2 months

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The King's Reign

King Steve, the stupid nickname you had heard your entire life. The rumors, the huge ego to match. It was everything that made you hate him, especially when your best friend wouldn't shut up about him. Robin was forcing you to be friends with him, but it wouldn't stop the passion you had dedicated to wanting nothing to do with him.

Steve Harrington x reader, enemies to lovers edition, 7.7k+ words

cw: smut, unprotected sex, oral, Steve talking you through it (!!), fingering, angst, tension, 18+, mdni

You had heard rumors of ‘King Steve’ your entire life. Being in a small town like Hawkins allowed every rumor—big or small, to be spread like wild fire. Even when it came to talking about Steve Harrington’s dick. No matter what you did, nothing could allow you to escape the whispers throughout the town.

When Robin had befriended the man of conversation, you were annoyed, to say the least. You could barely escape him when you were trying not to listen to the gossip mill, but it was even harder when your best friend wouldn’t shut up about the guy.

You chewed on a fry, eyes focused behind your friend as you gazed at a group of girls from your school across the way. They were walking into a Tammy’s, hair higher than ever and short shorts hiked up on their long legs. You stared at them, wondering if they had a run around with the guy.

Robin was droning on about something Steve had done today at work, involving a bunch of kids who seemed too young for him.

A fry hit the side of your head, knocking your focus into her instead of the girls across the mall.

“Yn!” Robin sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re not even listening to me.”

“And you would be incorrect,” you responded, smoothing the grease off of your face from where it hit. You grimaced, annoyed at her antics. “You said something about Steve, some kid named Justin, and a stupid handshake or something.”

Robin pressed her lips in a straight line, rolling her eyes once more. They might roll out of her head at this point, you thought.

“His name is Dustin, and the handshake wasn’t stupid, it was cute,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. She pushed her food tray away from her, burger half eaten and fries lay abandon across the plastic.

You gasped, leaning across the table and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Woah, Rob.”

She furrowed her brow, wondering what you were getting at.

“I had no idea you swung that way, new development I see.” You wiggled your eyebrows at her, wanting to see how far her patience went. “I just have to know—is it as big as everyone says it is?”

You laughed and leaned back in your chair, blocking your face with your arms as Robin threw a handful of fries at you. Her patience ran out, clearly.

“Yn, can you please be serious for once?” The brunette whined, pouting out her bottom lip as she looked at you. Her infamous begging face. “I’m just telling you because I want you to be friends with him. I can’t be a child of divorce between you. It’s so emotionally draining.”

You giggled, eyeing the way her uniform made her look ridiculous as she begged you. It was rumpled in all the wrong places, red tie hanging loosely at her neck. It made her look like she was perpetually going to a Halloween party.

“How do you think I feel being an actual child of divorce?”

She gaped at you, mouth hanging open as she was at a loss of words. Sputtering, she found the words to say, “Fuck, okay my bad. You know what I meant!”

“I know, Rob, Im just fucking with you,” you laughed, shaking your head as she flushed in the face. She genuinely felt bad, you could tell.

Your parents had recently divorced, next month marking the full year since their split. Tommy and his stupid friends had made it their entire personality and asked you about it ever since the news hit the town. What’s wrong with Mommy and Daddy, they would ask. Daddy found out Mommy slept with the entire town?

You grimaced, thinking about the memories. None of the rumors were true, but that didn’t falter the town people into thinking that you all should be walking around with a Scarlet Letter on your chest.

Shaking your head, you diverted the subject as you hand came to rest of the table. “Me and Steve have never been friends, so you can’t be a child of divorce, Rob. And also, I don’t want to be friends with him.”

Robin stretched her arms across the table, grasping your hand in the two of hers. “Yn, please. I know we both used to hate him-”

“Still do.”

“-but I really think you’ll like him,” she continued, not batting an eyelash at your interruption. “He’s not that same Steve-”

“King Steve.”

“-that everyone talks about. Those rumors are just rumors, I mean, you know how it goes.” She paused when you looked away from her, squinting as you stared unfocused in the distance. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat in discomfort as you turned to look back at her. “Please, Yn?”

You chose silence in this moment, blinking at her with a serious expression on your face as she pouted at you. Her blue eyes were practically watering at this point, long lashes batting rapidly at you.

“Please, Yn.”

Her pleads continued, grip squeezing into your hand as a deadpan expression was being held on your face. This went on for another two minutes (you counted) as she begged you, leaning down every 15 seconds or so to kiss at your hand.

“Okay! Okay, fine, Rob!” You gave in, laughing as she decided to place kisses all over every inch of your hand. She cheered, throwing her hands in celebration before shaking them clasped at the sides of her head, as if thanking an audience for winning an award.

“I literally love you so much, Yn,” she beamed at you, lips stretched thin as she exposed all of her teeth to you. You don’t think she’s smiled this big, ever. “So, tonight, I was thinkin-”

“Tonight?!” Your eyes opened wide, heart beating in your chest as you realized how soon this interaction was going to be. You thought you at least had more than a few hours.

“Oh,” she smirked at you, tilting her head to the side. “Did I not mention that it was tonight?”

Sighing, you trailed a hand down your face, pulling down your features as she shared the details to come. You loved your friend, you really did. She was your best friend, but Christ was she a lot sometimes.

Awkward wasn’t the word to describe the tension in the room. The only sound you could hear was Robin’s nails clacking against the sound of her glass, and Steve’s occasional cough.

You were curled into the side of the couch, Steve on the other, Robin in between the two of you. Steve was looking every which way except the two of you, hand running through his hair as he chewed on his bottom lip. Robin glanced between the two of you, taking sips of her watered down sloppy cocktail in her hand. She kept moving to say something, mouth opening and closing around empty words.

You with your back against the arm of the couch, feet tucked into you as you stared down Steve. You were curious, if they were to ask you. You took in his features, his long hair, giant brown eyes, and navy—is that fucking cashmere?—sweater across his shoulders.

You were observing why him and Robin were friends, why this man had such a hold on your friend. He was attractive, you could admit, boyish features drawing you in, in a way you would never admit in a thousand years. He seemed nervous in this moment, something you hadn’t expected him to be. Cocky, arrogant, rude, brash, anything but this.

But he was still King Steve. The man you had heard about since you went to elementary school together. You were forced to listen to stories of Steve kissing girls underneath the jungle gym evolved to him fucking them in the back of his BMW at the drive-in. It was repulsive.

Robin cleared her throat, drawing your attention away from Steve as his into her. She offered a small smile, awkwardly tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“So… guys,” she phrased it like a question, voice dragging up on the end of the word. “How about actual conversation?”

“Sure.”

“No.”

The two of you having contradictory answers caused your eyes to be pulled into each other. Your face was unmoving as Steve raised his eyebrows at you, confused.

“I’d rather sit in silence,” you muttered, breaking eye contact with him as you leaned your head into your hand. Staring at him while he was focused on something else was one thing, but holding eye contact made you crumble, a slight blush crossing your features. You focused on Robin, shaking your head as she gave you a pleading look.

The blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Steve, a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow coming up to cross his face. It was like a switch flipped, the cockiness that surrounded the King Steve rumors coming into play.

“I think that’s a great idea, Rob,” he muttered, voice low as he stared into you. You turned your face towards the coffee table, examining the items abandon on the glass. Your eye twitched at the nickname of your best friend you so often used. You studied the nearly full bottle of vodka surrounded by shot glasses, a deck of cards, and a joint tucked into a clear baggie.

Robin had been optimistic at the night having a positive turn of events.

“I’ll start,” Steve said, turning his entire body so he was facing you. Your bodies mirrored each other, Robin sitting awkwardly in the middle as her eyes flitted between the two of you. “So, Yn… How come I’ve been friends with Robin this long, and have never had the honor of meeting you?”

“Wish I could say the same,” you rolled your eyes, leaning your head on your hand. Your heart was beating heavy behind your chest as you watched this man practically morph into a completely different person.

“Yn…” Robin’s hand came to rest on your knee, squeezing as her voice was a warning to you. Be on your best behavior, you could hear her thoughts.

“Hmm,” he answered, you felt his eyes brushing over your figure. You felt insecure in that moment, focusing on the bottle of vodka as you debated the quickest way to black out in that moment. “I’m just saying, Yn. I’ve heard about you for so long, yet I think this is the first time I’ve even seen you.”

You cut your eyes suddenly to him, your own gaze darkening as his words echoed through the room. You weren’t going to crumble (this time), your mind intent on showing him you weren’t intimidated by him.

At the eye contact, his smirk widened even further. There was a glint of something in his eye, similar to the stories you had heard of the Harrington Charm, or so it was called.

“Funny enough, I’ve heard a lot about you too, Steve,” you replied, huffing as his name left your mouth. “This town can’t stop talking about you. King Steve and how you’re so irresistible.”

The last word in your mouth dripped with venom, squinting your eyes at the suggestive look on his face.

Silence held the next few moments, Robin looking at the ceiling as she muttered words under her breath. It sounded something like a prayer.

“Would you like to find out, Yn?” His voice was low as his eyes bored into you, teeth dragging across his bottom lip as your name escaped his lips. Hair hung into his eyes, head tilted down slightly as he leaned forward an inch. Your breath hitched at the small movement, words at a loss.

Robin shot up from the couch suddenly, arms thrown into the air as she turned around to face the two of you. She shook her shoulders, grimacing at the interaction. “Okay!”

Steve slowly dragged his eyes away from you, smirk disappearing as he glanced up at the brunette. Just like that, King Steve was gone. He settled back into the arm of the couch as his eyebrows were raised to his hairline, lips parted as he stared at your best friend.

“Enough of whatever that was,” Robin tried to blink away the memory, hands resting at her hips. She turned to look at the coffee table behind her, leaning over to grab the abandoned bottle of vodka and the deck of cards. Grimace still present amongst her features, she held them up. “Drinking game, anyone?”

The night continued among the three of you, shots being poured as matching face cards were being thrown onto the table. You were pretty drunk at this point, vision blurring as you leaned into your friend. She was resting her head on top of yours, laughing at something Steve was doing.

He had stuck a card to his forehead, trying to guess which one it was. His eyes were glazed over, slightly hooded with intoxication as him and Robin bickered back and forth about the number of cards there was in deck.

He was losing the debate, set on why Robin was wrong. You had a dopey smile on your face, enjoying the interaction between the two of them. You could see why they got along, energies so different, yet so similar.

“Harrington, you’re so wrong,” Robin laughed, shaking her head as she ripped the card off of his face. A small red mark was left behind, Steve groaning as he rubbed it.

She stood up from the floor, stretching her arms out as she walked away from where you all were surrounding the coffee table.

“I’m starving, Steve, come with me,” she demanded, holding a hand out to help the man up as he complained.

“What about me?” You asked, frowning as you watched him begin to trail her into the kitchen. Your question went unanswered, the two disappearing around the corner.

You sighed to yourself, laying out your body on the floor as the room began to spin in circles. Eyes closing, you held your breath, praying you sober up a little before the end of the night comes upon you.

The look on Steve’s face flashed behind the darkness of your eyes, the sound of your name in his voice echoed in your ears. You felt a small smile creeping on you, only for you to open your eyes suddenly, viscerally shaking the memory out of your mind.

What the fuck, Yn? You questioned yourself, blinking as you looked around the room. Glancing at a clock across the room, you noticed it was half past 1 a.m., way later than you realized. Fuck, my parents are going to kill me.

You glanced towards the direction of the kitchen, head tilting back against the carpet. Robin and Steve’s voices were low, but urgent, causing you to sit up on your elbows.

You strained your ears, trying to focus in on her words.

“-don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Steve!”

“Whaaat?”

Their voices were heavy with the liquor, almost sounding drowsy.

“Stop trying to fuck my friends, Steve. I’m serious.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, breath getting caught in your chest as you heard Steve laugh loudly at her words.

“Shhh!” You heard a thud, presumably the sound of her hand hitting him, based on the “Ow! What the hell!” that followed.

“Steve…”

Silence followed the conversation, your ears straining to see if the conversation continued, only for you to be met with the sound of footsteps coming your way. You panicked, moving to lay back down on the carpet. You crossed your hands over your chest, breathing fast as you tried to pretend like you hadn’t eavesdropped that entire thing.

Glancing up, you saw Steve swaying over you, hand on his hips as he smiled down at you. The overhead light shone over him, creating a halo around his perfectly styled hair.

You allowed yourself to stare for only a second before rolling your eyes.

“You’re blocking my light, Harrington,” you muttered, turning your head in the opposite direction.

He chuckled, moving so he sat next to you. He sat with his legs pulled close to him, being held together with his arms as they were clasped together.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you were getting a tan,” he was sarcastic in his words, light look on his face. He stared down at you, eyes grazing over your stretched out limbs.

“Why don’t you like me, Yn?” He asked, teeth pulling at the skin on his lip.

You closed your eyes, sighing as he started up that shit again. Did you not just have that conversation earlier that night?

“I quite like you,” his voice was a whisper now, hand coming out to dance at the edge of your own sweater. You pulled your arm away from him, tucking your elbow into your side. “You’re good for Robin.”

Questioning where Robin was, you glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Coming out was muffled sounds of her moving around the refrigerator, glasses clinging into one another. She was muttering to herself, something about pickles dipped in Greek yogurt.

“I think you’d be good for me, too.” The low tone of his voice had you squeezing your legs together, watching as his eyes briefly looked down at the movement. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the strands back into place.

“Leave me alone, Steve.” You tried to even your voice out as much as possible.

“I know you’re curious,” Steve cocked his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face. “About King Steve and his reign.”

You hacked a laugh, surprised at the boldness he had in this moment. The man’s ego was huge, even if he had the looks to back it.

“His reign? Is that what you want to call it?” Before you knew it, a small smirk of your own toyed at your lips.

“Oh, we can call it whatever you want,” the smile dropped from his lips as that darkened look took over his eyes once more. The amber glow of his irises turned nearly black, eyes narrowing as he stared into yours.

“The only thing I’m curious about,” you felt his fingers brush your clothes ribcage, ignoring the sensation, “is how there’s not a single bad thing to be said about this King Steve.”

His eyes slowly dragged over you, starting at your eyes to your lips to your chest and lingering at the spot between your thighs before returning to meet your gaze. He sucked in his bottom lip, gaze glancing towards the kitchen door as Robin began to make her way out, balancing about seven things between her arms.

She giggled, paying attention to the shaking of the items as she tried to not spill anything.

Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper, barely audible, “Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?”

You gulped, eyes on him as he switched it off, getting up to help Robin as she struggled with the items. You are so fucked.

Ever since that night between the three of you, you had been tagging along with Robin and her newfound friend more. The facade had been dropped, Steve no longer being flirtatious with you as you tried your hardest to ignore him.

He began to treat you the same as Robin, making stupid jokes towards you and letting his nerdy side come out during the interactions. Your hard exterior slightly crumbled away, defenses lowering as you realized that Robin may have been right about him. They weren’t completely gone, just lowered just enough to get to know him.

He wasn’t as much as an asshole as you imagined, he spent most of nights with a bunch of kids anyways. It was surprising, you had muttered some joke about the kids being “a little too young for you, Harrington?” only to earn his disapproval back. It was the most serious he had been since you met him, eyes dropping to the floor as he shook his head. You felt bad, seeing how defensive he had been over these kids he had practically adopted.

After that interaction, you dropped the King Steve stuff, seeing that your perception of him had been completely wrong. You would love to say that a beautiful friendship was blossoming between the two of you, but it was the opposite of that. You still hated him.

Every time you looked at him, you were reminded of his past, his stupid friend group that he used to hang with. Tommy had made the past few years of your life a living hell, torments of your parents separation and alleged affairs circling in the depths of your mind.

You watched him as he sat on the back porch of his house, cigarette hanging between his fingers as he reclined in the lawn chair over looking the pool. Robin sat in the chair next to him, turning the dial of the stereo as she tried to find a station with “goddamn decent music.”

The night sky hung heavy over you, your feet dipped into the pool as you watched the two from your perch on the side of the pool.

Smoke circled around him, lacing in and out of his hair as he looked in the night sky. A single light from the sliding glass door illuminated the back yard. His hair was annoying, perfectly framing his features as he blinked into the stars of the night.

As you took in the view of him and the rest of his backyard, rolling your eyes at the wealth that stood around you. Typical Harrington and his perfect home.

“Okay, fuck this,” Robin sighed, huffing as she shut off the stereo. She rose from the lawn chair, slipping on her shoes that lay beside it. “I’m over this, I’m going to bed.”

She began walking towards the sliding door, ruffling Steve’s hair as she past him. You protested, kicking your foot in the water.

“You’re going home?” You asked, watching as she paused to speak to you.

“Gonna sleep in Steve’s parents room, they’re not home,” she shrugged, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head.

“Never home,” Steve muttered with a shake of his head, thinking it was under his breath as he took a drag of his cigarette. You glanced at him, brow crinkling slightly at his comment.

“Just come up whenever you’re tired, Yn.” Robin turned, muttering a “g’night” as she made her way into the house, sliding the door behind her.

You looked down at your feet, watching the way the water circled at your ankles. Sounds of water swirling and crickets chirping in the stickiness of the night were filling your senses. You almost forgot Harrington was there, the sound of his cigarette burning out in the water interrupting your thoughts.

You looked at him from where he flicked it in the water. He stared at the way the burned bud floated in the water, moving in small circles as it soaked up the water around it. He seemed to be in a trance, eyes unfocused as they squinted around his thoughts.

You turned your eyes towards your feet again, ignoring him. You didn’t care. He was still that same Steve you despised so much.

“You want to sit here?” Steve asked, pulling you from thoughts once more. “Waters gotta be cold.”

“Absolutely not.” You were stubborn, squaring in your shoulders as your defenses picked up. You heard him huff, breath long as he exhaled.

“Why the fuck are you so rude?” He snapped, your head quickly swiveling to look at him. He shook his head as his hand rested at his bent knee, he continued to stare into the water. The half empty cigarette box was being turned over and over in his grasp.

“Easy for you to say, Harrington,” you shot back, anger seething through you as you got out of the pool. Water dripped around your feet as you grabbed your shoes next to you. You began to storm past him, muttering curses at him. “Good fucking night, asshole.”

You stopped at his chair, glaring down at him as he looked at you, eyes shifting up in your direction as his head stayed centered. Warmth flashed over you as you imagined he looked just like The Fallen Angel in this moment, eyes rimmed red as his gaze cut into you.

You ignored the thought, leaning over him as you seethed, “I don’t know what you think this is, Harrington, but we are not friends. We'll never be friends. You made my life a living hell, and I will resent you for that for the rest of my life. These rumors painting you in good light makes me loath you even more.”

Steve scoffed at your words, getting up so he stood in front of you. You bit your tongue as he towered over you, breath heavy as he searched your face, your harsh words lingering in the air.

“I didn’t do anything to you,” he whispered, voice low as your heart thundered. You swore he could hear it as he glanced down your body. "I've been nothing but nice to you."

“Liar.” You shook your head, taking a step back as he took one in your direction.

“Okay,” he nodded his head, lips forming a frown. His hand reached up to pull at his hair, rolling his eyes as they closed with a sigh. He opened them, hand moving to rest at his hip. “Tell me then, what did I do that was so bad for you, Yn.”

“You know.”

He shook his head, not taking that answer. He remained silence.

“You know,” your voice cracked, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

He shook his head again, tilting his head as he examined you. His own eyes blinked rapidly, jumping back and forth between the two of yours.

You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. All of the anger dissipated, sorrow filling your chest instead.

“You let Tommy torment me, you let him say what he did about me and all of his stupid friends,” your voice was fragile, volume moving up and down as your words came out. “You might not have said anything, but that’s the worst part, Steve. You were a bystander during the worst times of my life, and you didn’t. Do. Anything.”

Your finger punched at his chest with every word, emphasizing your point. Steve looked down at the assault of the digit, grabbing it between his fingers at the last word.

His touch burned your skin, a feeling that felt so wrong, but so right at the same time.

“You’re absolutely right,” Steve agreed with you, fingers holding your hand tightly. “I was—I was terrible. I was a jerk, a coward, if you will.”

Your eyes looked up into his at his words, hearing him out.

“I’m not friends with him anymore. I met Nancy all that time ago, and things changed for me,” he continued, thumb rubbing circles over the skin. Your heartbeat quickened, glancing down at his movement. “I met Robin, and things only got better. That perception you have of me is so different. So, so different than me now.”

He left go of your hand, watching as it dropped to your side. Steve was only inches away from you, the left over tobacco scent mixing with the detergent of his clothes.

A single tear streamed down your face, your hand shooting up to wipe it away. His gaze softened, shaking his head at you.

“It appears King Steve has dropped his crown,” he muttered, earning a small laugh out of you. You dropped your head, stepping back as a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

Steve’s laugh followed your own, chuckling low as yours picked up. The two of you stood there laughing at each other, an ache in your side forming as you realized the ridiculous situation you were in.

You both quieted down, staring at each other as the moonlight filled the sky above you. The buzzing of the porch light filled the air.

Steve’s eyes were huge in this lighting, his long lashes curled up towards his brows. The small pout of his lips were wet from his tongue darting out, licking at the skin. Moles dotted his skin, cheeks full as joy crossed his features.

You could see him in this light, for who he truly was. That asshole image may have lingered in the back of your mind, but you could see that he was truthful in his speech.

“I may miss him, you know,” you said, looking at your feet as the words came out. “King Steve.”

You glanced up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. His eyes were dark again, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Oh?” You couldn’t pull the emotion off of his face, a mask placed over it.

You nodded, continuing, “I never got to know him the way most people did.”

Smirking at your words, you turned towards the house and walked up towards the sliding glass door. You didn’t bother looking back at him, opening up the glass as you stepped through muttering a goodnight as you entered the house.

It was dark in there, the only light illuminating was the one hanging over the staircase. The image of the look on Steve’s face burned in your mind, how his dark eyes reflected the moonlight. As you trekked up the stairs on your way to meet Robin, you couldn’t help but think that you took things too far at the end. You’ve hated him all this time, why all of a sudden did you want to mess with his head about the idea of King Steve ?

Reaching the end of the hall, your hand reached for the doorknob, stopping in its place as you heard footsteps running up the stairs, fast in their pace.

Your brow furrowed, turning towards that direction as you watch Steve ascend the stairs, turning the corner to the hall in your direction. He was slightly out of breath, colored in the cheeks.

“You want to?” He blurted out, fast paced with his words. You were confused.

“Huh?”

He was crossing the distance to you, eyes determined on yours. Your hand was still placed on the doorknob, grip loose.

“Harrington, what are you talking ab-”

Your words were cut off as Steve closed the distance, crashing his mouth into yours. His hands came up to rest on the sides of your face as your eyes shot open in surprise at the intrusion. Your hand left the doorknob, resting at his chest to push him away.

“What the hell was that,” you exclaimed, finger digging in his chest. Smiling at you, his hands still present on your cheeks as he tugged at his bottom lip.

He made a shushing motion with his lips, stepping closer to place his mouth on yours again. You didn’t protest, fluttering your eyes shut as his mouth began to move into yours, molding into the perfect shape.

His mouth was soft, tongue darting out to lick between your lips, an urgency as you were pulled into him. One of his hands left your face, finding your waist to press his torso into yours. Huffing, the firmness of his body against yours left you breathless as you leaned up into the kiss.

He pulled away, placing two quick pecks to yours before placing a step back. The absence of his hands on your body left a chill throughout your spine. Eyes glazed over, you blinked at him, tongue running over the feeling of him on your lips.

Steve was smug, hands on his hips as he smiled at you. Your mouth flapped open and close, not finding the words to say to him in that moment. You should be repulsed at him, that was your first thought, but you couldn’t be bothered.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Your fingers came to brush at your mouth, looking anywhere but him. It was the first time you had been shy around him. You were starting to understand the Harrington Effect.

“You don’t need to,” he rushed, crossing the distance to you one last time to crash his mouth into yours.

He pulled you into him simultaneously pushing you into the wall next to the doors of his parents room. Your body hit it with a full yet loud thud, not caring about waking Robin in the moment.

Your mouth moved in sync with Steve’s, hands coming up to mess up its perfect style and leg curling up to rest at his upper thigh. He moaned into your mouth as his hands gripped your ass, pulling your hips into his.

This is wrong, you found yourself thinking as Steve pulled away to mouth at your neck. He sucked bruises into the delicate skin, fingers digging into your flesh. Your hands roamed free, wildly pulling at his belt his teeth grazed your earlobe.

His bulge ground into the fabric of your jean shorts, leaving you breathless as you fumbled with his buckle.

“S-Steve,” you panted into his hair, arching into his grasp.

You felt the smug fuck smile at your neck, breath sending a chill down your spine. “So needy, baby.”

The nickname had you mewling, panting even further as once of his hands came to help with you the buckle. He freed himself, leather straps hanging at his waist as he unbutton the jeans, pulling the zipper down.

Your hand reached inside, grabbing his heavy cock. You both gasped at the feeling, Steve throwing his head back at the sensation of you tugging at him under his pants. The sounds echoing through the air were filthy—Steve groaning, the wet slickness of your hand on his cock, your dirty words of affirmation flowing out of your mouth.

His hand came to rub at you through your shorts, the thick material making you see stars. Your own head hit the wall, the thud louder than before.

“Shhh baby,” he muttered, pushing them to the side as his fingers brushed over your clothed opening. He smirked at you, low groan escaping his mouth as you were already dripping wet. You huffed, squeezing at the base of his cock in retaliation, feeling the way his hips jutted out.

“C-can’t wake Robin,” he gasped, hips moving rhythmically in sync with your strokes. His head was dripping wet, the inside fabric of his underwear soaking it up.

You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, the thick jean and thin material of your underwear pushed to the side. They brushed your folds, collecting slick as he applied pressure to the sensitive bud.

“Need you, Steve, fuck,” your face was twisted in pleasure, core throbbing as he continued to tease you. The look on his face let you know he was falling apart at your touch too, brow furrowed as his bottom lip was sucked into his mouth.

He removed himself from you, tucking the exposed part back into his pants. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you down the hall, leading to an open door. He pushed you inside, shutting it behind him as he pushed you down on the bed.

You bounced, half smiling as you rid yourself of your shirt, throwing it across the room. The jeans shorts followed, leaving you exposed in your bra and panties.

Steve stood at the end of the bed, gaze roaming over your figure as that familiar dark look took over his features.

“The things you’re doing to me,” he breathed, crossing his arms at his waist as he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest, littered with hair at the top, made a rush of heat go straight to your core.

Your eyes followed his hands, watching as they pulled down his jeans, still unbuttoned from the hallway. His boner pushed at the front of his boxers, wet patch present as the material tented.

His eyes followed your eyeline, smirking at you as he saw your legs subconsciously opening wider. Your hand came down to rub between your legs, the panties becoming stickier with each passing moment.

“You want me to show you, baby?” His voice was taunting, leaning over the bed to make his slow crawl over your body. You nodded, eyes big with desire as you felt his heat over you. “Say it.”

“I-I want you t-to show me, Steve,” you moaned, free hand reaching up to grab at his neck. He stopped its movement, hand loose at the wrist as he sucked his teeth.

"Ah ah ah, say it again." His low voice had you falling apart, wetness pooling between your thighs.

"I want you to show me, Steve." Clearer this time, you arched into him spreading your legs so he lay between. He smirked and let go, leaning down to briefly kiss your lips before making his way down your neck.

The urgency you felt in your body contradicted his slow, languid movements. You felt the admiration in his movements, teeth nipping at your skin lightly, his tongue soothing over the marks. He made his way down, kissing over what seemed like every inch of you.

As he spread your legs, he maintained eye contact with you, hair falling into his eyes. His fingers rested at the waistband of your panties, mouth pressing light kisses over your clit. The fabric was thin enough to feel the heat of your breath, and it had you mewling.

"You're so beautiful, Yn," he whispered as he pulled the piece of fabric off of you. Your hand reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, leaning up on your elbows so you could get sight of him.

His tongue darted out, licking at your clit as you exhaled deeply. Your hips jutted out, trying to feel the full heat of his mouth as his tongue gave you tiny licks, teasing you. Steve's smirk grew, arm resting at your waist to hold you down.

"'M just getting started, my love."

He began to suck at you, tongue dipping in and out of your folds as one of his fingers found your entrance, pushing in. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, moaning at the taste of you.

It was heaven watching him. Seeing the way his face was pushed into you, fingers moving in and out of you with a fever. They curled inside of you, toying at the bundle of nerves deep in your walls. Clenching around him, your hips began to stutter, the weight of his arm adding a pressure that made your head feel light.

Bliss approached you, slowly then all at once. You swore you blacked out for a moment, vision going white as he licked you through the pleasure. Your breath was fast, chest heaving as that familiar over stimulation worked its way through your thighs.

Steve pulled away, satisfied with your unraveling. He licked the taste of you off of his lips, rising to his knees as he pulled his boxers down. His cock sprung free, dark red at the head as it dripped in desperation.

His hand came to stroke himself, squeezing small drops of precum out of the head.

"Steve," you groaned, hand reaching to grab at him. His hips angled towards your reach, he groaned as you made contact. You gave him short strokes, focusing your attention at the head.

"You wanna give me a little taste, sweetheart?" His sweet words of affirmation had you soaked with anticipation once again, a nod coming in reply. You repositioned yourself, lying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows as you licked at his head.

A low groan escaped him, hand coming to rest at the back of your head. You took him in your mouth, lips stretching over his girth as you opened up for him.

His hand pushed on your head, forcing down some of the length that you felt shy in taking. You sucked at him, looking up at him falling apart with small thrusts of his hips into your mouth. His head was angled to the side, eyes closed as you saw them move behind his lids. His mouth was open, free hand gripping at the roots of his hair.

He looked beautiful in this light, chest glistening as a sheen of sweat covered him. His hand guided your mouth, feeling the suction of your lips over his shaft. The way his hips stuttered into you had you choking, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

"M not gonna last, baby," he muttered, removing himself as you looked up at him. Steve glanced down at himself, seeing the way his cock shone with the glistening of your spit.

His eyes rolled, teeth digging into his bottom lip at the sight. You understood the feeling, the both of you being so turned on, it fucking hurt.

"Turn around for me." Rising to your hands and knees, you positioned yourself, arching your back. Blind to his movements, you heard him shuffle behind you, warm hands gripping at your waist that sent a shock to your spine.

His cock nudged at your entrance, a burn coming as he stretched you open. A high moan escaped your lips, hips running from the intrusion. His hands pulled you right back, cock pushing in even further.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, running his hand up your spine to soothe you. "It'll be okay."

You nodded, looking back over your shoulder at him admiring the way you stretched over him. As he pushed in further, the stretch burned even more. The pain was soothed away by the rubbing of his hands and the words of encouragement he gave you.

"'S okay," he muttered, pushing to the hilt. "I'm right here, baby."

Your knuckles were shaking as you gripped the sheets below you. Your eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping your lips.

"All right here, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you." His hips reared back before pressing in again, your back arching as pleasure flowed through your body.

"Steve, fuck," you moaned his name, feeling the way he pushed into you over and over, movements slow. He grabbed onto your hips, fucking into you as the sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room.

"You're taking it so good, my love."

His words had you gasping, hips shooting back to meet his movements half way. Seeing the effort you gave him back, his thrusts became faster, fucking into you with a passion.

Steve's words continued praising you, I love to see you falling apart and feels good, baby? and take it, you love my dick so much. You were panting his name, the only word you could focus on.

That pleasure arched up your spine once more, legs shaking with the promise of release. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, falling to the bed as Steve followed you to it. His large stature hung over your body, fucking you through your high.

You couldn't help, but press your face into the mattress, pleasure rippling through you as his movements quickened. You felt him approaching his own high as his words became short, breath raising a pitch.

"F-fuck, Yn," his voice was even an octave higher, face pressing in between your shoulder blades. His thrusts were irregular, slamming into you as the entire bed rocked. "Gon-gonna cum, baby, f-fuck, you did so well."

He released into you, pressing deep as you felt him fill you up. The warmness of his cum made you moan again, the thick liquid threatening to spill out the sides of his cock deep within you.

"Such a good job," he whispered to you before pulling out, collapsing next to you. He lay on his back, hand reaching out to rest at the small of your back.

You turned your head towards him, blinking slow as you took in the mess of the man. His hair was sticking to his face, cheeks red, and wetness around his mouth. He stared back at you, smirk ever present.

"I still hate you, Harrington," you whispered to him, noticing the way your legs felt numb. Sensing the irony in your words, you felt him leak out of you. A grimace crossed your face.

He laughed out loud, winking at you. He leaned to press a kiss to your nose, watching the way it crinkled under his touch.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

You hid your smile in the sheets, rolling your eyes shut. Happiness warmed your body, the lingering effects of your orgasm. A gnawing feeling came to your heart, chest pounding for a different reason. You had fallen for it, the typical Harrington charm. At that moment, you tried not to tell yourself that things may be different, thinking of his words earlier.

He was different than before, however, the thoughts of King Steve still plagued your mind. This couldn't end well, Steve doesn't end well. You opened your eyes, finding him still staring at you.

"You know, I meant what I said, right?" He asked you, seemingly reading your mind. You blinked at him, ready to push that hard exterior forward. "I am different than I was."

Warmth filled your chest, hope bubbling at the surface.

"I don't know if I believe you," you whispered, voice sounding small in the big room. He pressed his lips together, mouth dropping at the corner.

"Let me show you," he replied, hand coming to brush the hair behind your ear. "Let me do that at least."

Hesitation came over you, silence filling the air between you. A few moments passed as he searched your eyes for any sign of emotion. It was like you had an angel and devil on each shoulder, warning you yet jumping for joy at the same time.

You slowly nodded, a sigh escaping your lips. Steve beamed at you, eyes squinting with the smile.

"I swear, Harrington, if you do anything to fuck me over, I will murder you," you shook your head, not believing you'd give him a chance. He leaned over again, pressing another kiss to your lips this time. His smile was contagious, you fought it back.

"Is that a promise?"

masterlist. requests and inbox are open.

#i can’t get over robin lately #so she’s gonna be the bestie in everything #i love her #my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #fanfic #smut #steve harrington smut #enemies to lovers #dom steve harrington

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diordeer · 2 months

Text

౨ৎ BEWITCHED

“you bewitch me every damn second you're with me, i try to think straight but I'm falling so badly, i’m coming apart, you wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart” - laufey (smau)

contains: charlie bushnell x model!reader

description: me looking at my 50 drafts, choosing to ignore them and to do a new fic that i most likely wont finish for another week

requested by: anon 🫣

Liked by zendaya, iamcharliebushnell and others

yn.ln thank you so much for having me ! ❤️

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user1 WHAT IS CHARLIE DOING THERE?!

↳ yn.ln idk i just randomly found him and now he keeps following me around

↳ iamcharliebushnell ok first of all i do not keep following you around

↳ yn.ln you literally flew with me to the show i was in

↳ iamcharliebushnell that is NOT the point

↳ user8 thats so cute 😖

user2 ugh you are so gorgeous i cantt

user3 yn devours EVERY time 😍😍

syndey_sweeney i lovee youu

↳ yn.ln love u more pooks

walker.scobell why is HE there 😟

↳ iamcharliebushnell what did i do?!!

↳ yn.ln you’ve always done something

↳ walker.scobell ^^^

zendaya 😍😍😍😍

↳ yn.ln ahh love u !

user4 to be yn, or to be with yn?

↳ iamcharliebushnell i pick be with

↳ user4 HELLO?!

↳ user5 WHAT?

↳ yn.ln 😦🫢

↳ user6 WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

↳ aryansimhadri charlie…

↳ user7 u guys r so dramatic

Liked by walker.scobell, aryansimhadri and others

iamcharliebushnell just working… working hard to please ya 😉

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user1 oh thats so yn

user2 NO BUT LIKE WHATS HAPPENING WITH HIM AND YN?!

↳ user3 REAL LIKE THEY R JUST POSTING PHOTOS OF EACH OVER WITH NO CONTEXT

user4 belieber charlie?!

user10 ok… ignoring the elephant in the room, charlies real cute in those photos 🫣

walker.scobell be so for real charlie

↳ iamcharliebushnell i am “so for real”

yn.ln save that for the dms 🙄

↳ user7 THESE PEOPLE-

↳ iamcharliebushnell my sincerest apology 🧎

user6 is justin beiber real

dior.n.goodjohn this is low even for you

↳ iamcharliebushnell the hate?!

↳ leahsavajeffries its true

user8 wait so are they actually dating?

↳ user6 idk bc like they post each over very suggestively but never actually announced anything?

↳ user9 do they really need to announce anything though… like they are VERY obvious

yn.ln just posted on their story

Seen by sydney_sweeney, dior.n.goodjohn and others

Liked by dior.n.goodjohn, ayoedebiri and others

yn.ln we are just really good friends 🤷‍♀️

tagged iamcharliebushnell

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user1 THE GRIP

user2 OH MY GOD?!

dior.n.goodjohn im so shocked! Im so suprised! I never saw this coming!

↳ walker.scobell what a turn of tables!

↳ aryansimhadri i jumped in shock!

↳ leahsavajeffries watch mojo top plot twists!

↳ iamcharliebushnell 😕

user3 we ALL saw this coming lets be honest

↳ user2 STILL?! OMG! GOING CRAZY!!

iamcharliebushnell so quoting justin beiber, and following people around works!

↳ yn.ln oh! thats not-

↳ user4 mans gonna accidentally start a chain of stalkers

user5 OMGG DREAM COUPLE

user6 does anyone know how they actually met eachover?

↳ user7 probs through friends, yn knows like everyone

user8 the only thing shocking about this is how LONG it took them to be official

taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover @vamplyle

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #social media au #aesthetic #charlie bushnell #in the know #x reader #smau #model!reader

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forlix · 6 months

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative, alternating perspectives

warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia. again, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WITH THIS POST WILL BE BLOCKED.

warnings (cont'd.)・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack. alcohol is consumed. lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication. latter half is just kind of sad in general tbh but what do u expect from a fic based off alex turner lyrics

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?”

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,�� he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path.

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.”

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there.

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.”

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour.

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

“Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?”

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall.

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze.

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter.

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds.

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session.

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete.

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person.

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe.

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels.

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you.

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand.

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system.

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod.

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?”

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane.

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe

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marvellous1917 · 8 months

Text

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @1-800-bxrnes @fandomsfallnomore @bushtail @ghostofwinter @missdarlingsb @amiets2 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky fic #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x tattoo artist!reader #ace chats #tattoo artist!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader

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folklvrsworld · 8 months

Text

between the books ♡

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, kissing, swearing/cussing, slightly spying

summary: reader is doing assignments in the library when she feels a pair of eyes watching her, harry decided to distract her and get her mind off of school for a hot minute

song: collide - justin skye, tyga

-------------------------------------------------------

Being a sixth year doesn't mean you can relax. Yes, we do have a lot more free time, but those free times are mostly used for doing homework, which the professors gave a lot, or studying for N.E.W.T. exams that we will have to do in our seventh year.

I was in the library, scribbling down answers for my defence against the dark arts homework, while constantly switching books. The library wasn't empty that day, but it wasn't full either. As I was writing, I felt like someone was watching me. I looked around, but no one was looking at my direction.

I shrugged it off and continued on what I was doing. I finally finished my homework and I closed the books, before putting them back in the right shelves. As I was returning the last book, I felt a presence behind me and before I could turn around, I felt someone kiss my neck.

"Harry..." I giggled quitely while turning around to see the raven haired boy standing in front of me.

"Took you long enough to notice me." he grinned and pecked my lips slowly.

I kissed him back and pulled away with a raised eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"I've been watching you for the past ten minutes, I thought you would notice me, but you were very focused on your homework." he chuckled, kissing me again.

"I knew I felt someone was watching me." I said in between kisses, "Now we really shouldn't make out here, I have homework to do."

He groaned, "Oh come on, it's time for you to have a little break. What d'you say?" he smiled while running his hands up and down my waist.

I gulped and stared at him in the eyes, he wasn't wrong, I do need a little break. I've been doing homework for the past three hours, my fingers were tired from writing, my brain was tired from thinking, I needed a distraction.

"Fine.." I finally said, earning a big grin from him before he pinned me to the bookshelf and kissed my neck, "W-Wait...Here?!"

He pulled away and shrugged, "Why not? If you're comfortable with it, of course."

I reminded myself that we were on the back of the library, the section where no one really comes to, so if we were to do it here, it would be somewhat safe. We just have to be quiet.

"Okay...We have to be quiet though."

He chuckled, "You mean you have to be quiet, princess." he smirked as his hand started to go under my skirt, "Let me take care of you, yeah? I know you're tired, you don't have to do anything."

His words gave me butterflies on my stomach. Sex with him was always either gentle and sweet, rough and kinky, or lusty and passionate. Him being cute and gentle was always my favorite one.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and stroked the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him, as our lips collided and moved in sync, his hand made its way to my underwear. He stroked my clit through the fabric making me gasp and have goosebumps from head to toe.

"Shh, relax. I'll be gentle." he muttered through the kiss as he felt the wetness on the underwear, he fiddled with the fabric at first, before slowly taking it off of me.

When it was off, he kept it in his pocket and started to trail his thumb over my clit. I shuddered at his touch and he did it over and over again, "Can you tell me what you want, princess?"

I nearly come undone hearing his words, but I managed to look him in the eyes while saying, "Touch me...Please, Harry..."

He smiled and pecked my lips before slowly entering a finger in, while still caressing my clit with his thumb. I held back a moan as I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip.

"Merlin, you're so wet." he groaned quitely as he went in and out with his finger, and not long after, he added a second finger.

I threw my head back to the bookshelf and couldn't help but let out a little gasp, he started moving faster and faster, it was getting really hard to hold back my moans. When he added a third finger, he knew I was about to moan, because he slammed his lips onto mine.

"F-Fuck..." I moaned quitely through the kiss, his fingers moving in and out frantically, I pulled away and gasped for air.

Suddenly, I felt the knot in my stomach forming, my body was starting to shake, I was close. Harry seemed to realize as he stopped for a second to rest his fingers before going in and out in a frantic pace, his thumb stroking my clit.

"Come for me, baby." he said while unbuttoning my shirt and squeezing my boobs gently.

Not wasting another moment, I bit back a moan as I felt my body completely let go. I let out little whimpers of pleasure as my body jerk and shake a little from the force of the orgasm. When I've relaxed, he gently pulled his fingers out and licked them clean.

"Good girl." he smiled at me and kissed me, letting me taste myself on his tongue, "Do you want more or was that enough for you, my love?"

I panted heavily, still recovering from the orgasm, and looked at him and his bulge. I knew I would have to really fight myself to not moan if we go further, but my body needed him. Badly.

"You deserve some too, Harry. Not just me." I smiled while fumbling with his pants, he raised an eyebrow before smirking lightly.

He understood what I wanted so he quickly took of his pants and underwear, while I completely took off my shirt, leaving me only in my skirt and bra. He picked me up and made me straddle him before taking one of my boobs into his mouth.

I moaned quitely as I tug his hair and let out a sigh of pleasure. He continued sucking on my breast while playing with the other one, before pulling away and looking at me in the eyes, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, Y/N."

My body instantly was filled with euphoria hearing that, my cheeks went red as I smiled at him and kissed him. He kissed me back with tongue as he gave his dick a few strokes before gently and slowly entering me.

"O-Oh, fuck...." I pulled away from the kiss and moaned, with our foreheads still touching.

He breathed heavily and continued to thrust himself deeper. When he's fully in me, he paused for a second to take a deep breath, before slowly moving in and out.

"H-Harry..." I rested my hand on his shoulder and clawed his back, we were only getting started and we were already such a moaning mess.

"Y-You feel so good, Merlin..." he moaned, squeezing my ass as he continued his rapid movement.

We were looking into each other's eyes as he moved in and out of me. Both of us sweating and breathing heavily, euphoria and pleasure feeling both our bodies. It wasn't until we heard someone talking that we knew someone was in the shelf next to ours.

"No, that's not the one I'm looking for. Maybe it's in the next shelf."

I widened my eyes and mouthed to Harry, "We're the next shelf!"

He was about to pull out of me but before he could do anything, another voice was heard, "Wait, here it is. Nevermind, we don't have to go to the other shelf, Celia. I got it."

We both took a deep breath of relief and waited for them to leave, when they did, he looked at me and smirked, "Now, where were we?" he started moving in and out of me again.

Not so long after, he thrusted deep inside me, hitting my g-spot. I had to bury my face on the crook of his neck to hold myself from screaming out of pleasure. I was in absolute bliss. His thrust became faster and harder by the second.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck baby..." I whimpered into his neck, my body jerking from the force of his thrust.

He stroked my back reassuringly and eagerly kissed my neck to calm me down, "Shh, I know, sweetheart. I know."

He started hitting my g-spot over and over again, my body was jerking and shaking from the amount of pleasure I was getting. Little gasps and moans coming out of my mouth, as I feel the knot on my stomach forming again.

"I-I'm close, Harry..." I gasped and my legs tightened the grip on his waist.

He nodded his head and groaned, while pulling away from my neck after successfully making a hickey there, "Me too. Oh fucking hell, love.."

His movement suddenly became fast and hard, he was trying to reach both of our orgasms. My mouth was hung open in a silent scream, he was gasping for air and watching me slowly come building up to my release.

"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful."

With his words, I come undone. I tried my best to moan quitely, as my body convulsed and my thighs shake. I saw stars and I couldn't feel anything else except for pleasure. I never wanted it to end. I was having uncontrollable spams. It was the hardest orgasm I've ever had.

A second after my release, he had his. He buried his face into my chest as he groaned and released inside me. I felt his hot liquid filling me up, making me shudder and jerk slightly. As we were both coming down from our high, he stroked my stomach gently to calm me down, and I stroked his hair.

When we both have relaxed, we looked at each other and couldn't help but smile. He pulled out of me slowly and set me down on my feet, I trembled but I quickly leaned against the shelf so I don't fall down.

"Did you enjoy it, my love?" he said out of breath, while moving a strand of hair from my face.

I nodded my head vigorously and chuckled, "Every second of it, darling." I smiled, "God, I really needed that. Homework has been stressing me out lately."

He smiled and kissed my forehead, "I noticed, princess." he took out my underwear from his pocket and gave it to me, "We should dress up before anyone sees us."

We quickly tidied ourselves up. We made ourselves look like we did not just fuck the shit out of each other as much as we could. I fixed him a bit and he did the same for me, before we both walk away from the shelf hand in hand.

I quickly gathered my stuff that was still on the table before walking out of the library with him, "That was one of the craziest things I've ever done."

He chuckled and shrugged, "Hey, everyone does crazy things from time to time. But you didn't regret it, did you?" he said as he put a bit of my hair at the front, to hide my hickey.

I smiled up at him and shook my head, "Not one bit, Harry."

#harry james potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry james potter smut #harry potter #harry james potter x fem!reader

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writingwithciara · 2 months

Text

For The Cameras ~Matt Sturniolo~

summary: a kiss cam produces unexpected results

word count: 1.9k (not as long as normal but a decent length imo)

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

note: got a sweet message from @lolasturniolo and i loved the prompt. hope you don’t mind that i made it a sorta friends-to-lovers fic 😊

masterlist

“so who are we taking to the game tonight? we have 1 extra ticket and 3 options.” nick looked at his brothers.

"i vote to bring justin." matt said without looking up from his phone.

"really? i say nate." chris looked around the room.

"so you guys bring me back to boston and i'm not even an option for you?" y/n threw her hands up and shook her head.

"if it helps, i was going to pick you." nick smiled.

"if we each choose a different person, we're just right back where we started." matt set his phone down.

"we could always put their names in a hat and pick randomly." chris suggested.

"or, we think about this. both justin and nate have been to a hockey game and y/n has never been to one. plus, we did drag her all the way here. do we really want to be leaving her alone?"

"well, as good of a point as it is, i'm keeping my vote for justin. we don't spend a lot of time with him and i think it'd be nice to bring him to a game while we're here." matt smiled.

"i'm changing my vote to y/n. she deserves to have some fun on this trip." chris looked at his friend and smiled.

"that's two-to-one." nick looked at matt. "so you're overruled no matter what."

"okay fine. but justin gets to go with us to the next one." matt stood up and went to his room to get ready. chris did the same, leaving nick and y/n in nick's room.

"nick, i don't have anything to wear to represent the team."

"don't worry about it. we can buy you something when we get there. don't forget to dress warm. i'll wait for you to get changed then we can go."

"yes sir." y/n began to dig through her bag for something to wear. she pulled out her favorite ransom shirt and a hoodie she borrowed from chris nearly 3 years ago. after she changed into her favorite pair of jeans, nick came back into the room to change.

once everyone was changed, they met out at the car.

the drive to the arena was short and the car was filled with nothing but silence.

when they arrived, nick went to take y/n to get something to represent the team but matt pulled a boston jersey from the car and handed it to her.

"figured you wouldn't have anything to show your pride in the team so i grabbed an extra jersey."

"wow. you're so thoughtful for someone who didn't even want me to come to the game with you guys."

"i never said i didn't want you to come. i just said we barely spend time with justin and he would've loved it."

"i'm messing with you matt. i don't care that you didn't want me to be here."

"i didn't....whatever." matt walked away with nick. y/n pulled the jersey over her head and looked at chris.

"how do i look?"

"you look..really good." chris smiled and the two of them jogged to catch up to matt and nick.

the group looked at their tickets and went to their seats. matt was between y/n and nick, while chris was on the other side of y/n. he made eye contact with y/n as they sat down and he rolled his eyes.

he didn't hate her, nor did he dislike having her around. in fact, he loved having her around all the time.

to him, she was perfect. and his brothers knew it. they were always trying to push them together but y/n would never show interest in him & had only referred to him as a friend. and so born was his hatred towards her.

as the game went on, y/n cheered at the right moments and matt couldn't help but admire her every feature, hoping he wouldn't get caught.

unfortunately for him, chris and nick were in the bathroom when the kiss cam came around. he was still admiring y/n when the camera pointed at them. she noticed the stupid grin on his face and looked over at him.

"i think you should look at the screen, matt."

"huh?" he snapped out of his daze to glance at the screen. the large words KISS CAM flashed in red and his cheeks darkened. he knew he had been caught. he looked at the camera and shooed them away.

y/n stared at him with both shock and awe on her face. part of her wanted to kiss him but the other part of her didn't want to make him uncomfortable. so she just went back to watching the players skate around.

a few minutes later, the kiss cam returned to them and once again, matt declined. this time though, the fans around them booed. it nearly embarrassed matt but as he looked down at his feet, y/n grabbed his hand, almost immediately calming him down.

"thanks." he leaned closer and whispered in her ear.

"not a problem." she smiled sweetly at him and returned her attention back to the players. her hand didn't move from matt's grip but neither of them seemed to mind.

at the end of the 2nd period, the kiss cam returned. no matter how many times matt asked them to leave, they kept coming back. y/n felt matt's grip tighten on her hand so she placed a gentle kiss to his cheek, hoping it would satisfy everyone.

it did not.

the camera continued to point at the duo and all eyes, even the players, were on them.

"i'm sorry about this." y/n whispered to matt before turning his head and kissing him. the crowd finally cheered and the camera crew went away.

but y/n and matt were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

his hand detached from hers and he placed them on her cheeks. y/n smiled into the kiss.

when they both finally stopped kissing each other, the smile on their faces was permanent.

"i hope that wasn't too embarrassing or awkward for you." y/n smiled and went back o squeezing his hand. matt didn't say anything. his earlier focus on the game was long gone and replaced with y/n.

when the game was finally over, y/n stood up and stretched.

"oh my goodness. that was amazing."

"yeah it really was." nick smiled and began heading out.

"it was good but i think matt really enjoyed it." chris smirked, earning a punch to both of his arms by his brothers and best friend. "ouch."

"anyone have to use the bathroom before we head out?" nick stopped outside the bathroom and looked at everyone.

"yeah. i promise i'll be quick." y/n walked into the bathroom and matt felt his brothers staring at him.

"what?"

"so, that kiss was certainly something, huh?"

"it didn't mean anything. it was just to get the kiss cam people off our backs."

"i don't think that was the only reason you guys kissed." chris raised an eyebrow.

"yeah. it looked pretty intense from an outside point of view."

"what do you mean?"

"you guys kissed for like 10 seconds after the camera crew left. you can't tell me that your feelings for her aren't returned."

"please can we change the topic?"

"what are you dorks talking about now?" y/n asked as she walked out of the bathroom.

"the hockey game." matt quickly covered up before the awkward tension got too high.

"it was so good. and oh my god. jeremy swayman is so hot. wow." y/n swooned and began to walk ahead of the boys.

when they got to the car, chris got in the back, allowing y/n to sit up front with matt. the drive home wasn't as quiet as the first drive but the air felt different. like there was something that needed to be said but nobody wanted to say it.

matt put the car in park and everyone got back.

"well, i'm beat. think im gonna go to bed. good night." chris yawned and headed up to his room. y/n followed nick to his room and flopped down on the bed.

"hey, do you have feelings for matt?"

"why do you ask?"

"that kiss tonight seemed very electric. the chemistry between you two was already really intense and if you don't have feelings for him, you need to let him know. because he's been crushing on you for years and the way you kissed him looked like you might have the same feelings."

"god, nick. of course i like matt. what's not to like? he's incredibly thoughtful and he's so cute. he doesn't judge me for my taste." she shot her best friend a look. "he's just perfect in every aspect of the word and...." she paused and sat up. 'are you sure he likes me?"

"when have i ever lied to you, sweetheart?"

"every day since you learned to talk."

"only when it saved your ass." he looked at her as she walked to the door. "but i promise you that i am not lying about this. matt really does have feelings for you."

"okay. if this is some sort of cruel joke, i will never speak to you again."

"and why would i risk that?"

"good point. wish me luck then." y/n took a deep breath and opened the door.

matt was leaning against the counter and when he heard the bedroom door close, he looked up.

"hey."

"hi." y/n stood awkwardly just outside the bedroom. matt put his phone in his pocket and crossed his arms.

"can i ask you something?"

"of course, matt." y/n's composure returned to normal when she heard the worriedness lining matt's voice.

"why does this have to be weird between us?"

"what do you mean?"

"we kissed and now, the air around us has changed drastically. did you....did you not like it or something?"

"of course i liked it, matt. but it's not how i pictured our first kiss happening."

"really?" he finally looked at her face. "h-how did you picture it happening?"

"this is going to sound really cheesy and cliche. are you sure you want to hear it?"

"oh, absolutely." his interested piqued and he found himself moving closer.

"well, when i pictured kissing you for the first time, i always used to think it would happen after you stood up for me somehow. like a knight in shining armor. and then i would run up to you and kiss you. you would be shocked at first but you would kiss back and you would put so much emotions into it."

"how did the kiss cam kiss measure up to what you pictured?"

"it was incredible, sure. but it didn't meet my expectations." y/n smirked. matt took an extra second to understand what she was hinting at but when he got it, he returned the smirk.

"didn't meet your expectations, huh?" he inched closer. "maybe i should change that. i-if you want me to."

"just kiss me, please."

matt wasted no time at all. he quickly grabbed her face and kissed her. all the feelings they had both been building up for years was being poured out into the kiss.

matt pulled her closer and made sure she felt what he was feeling. and when they pulled away, they both couldn't stop smiling.

"how was that?"

"better than expected, for sure. and something i think i want to keep doing."

"i can totally deal with that." matt smiled before pulling her back in for another kiss.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @lolasturniolo @carolinalikesthings @ciarasturn1 @fearfam69691

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader

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c0ffinshit · 5 months

Note

Hello lol. Idk if you’re taking requests so ignore this if you aren’t! 😊

It would be hilarious if you do something for Nathan Bratt that’s like, he forgets his lunch or something at home, and his S/O brings it to the school for him. And when his students see his S/O they’re like “you’re dating someone!? 😮”

OH. MY. GOSH. this has to be the cutest request i have ever gotten for nathan!!!! i did get a carried away with the tone so it is a little all over the place so i hope you don't mind ....

either way, i hope you enjoy!!!!!!!! :3

warnings: none

Nathan Bratt may not have ADHD, but with his forgetfulness, he might as well have it. So, naturally, you always pack him a lunch for work since he would starve to death if you didn’t. The only thing he was supposed to keep track of was picking it up in the morning and leaving the leftover dishes in the sink at night. He could follow that last part pretty effortlessly. The first half was always a struggle.

On this particular Wednesday morning, he was almost late for work due to not turning back his clocks to daylight saving. As he rushed past you, he said a quick ‘I love you’ and made the same grabbing movement he did to take his lunch to his car, especially when his hand missed the bag by an inch. Instead of taking the brown bag with hand-drawn hearts all over, he took a fistful of nothing to his car.

Sure, it also took you a moment to realize what had happened. But when you finally saw that Nathan didn’t take the bag, adrenaline ran through you. Your eyes look to the window, watching him drive off.

After rushing into your car and calling your boss, you reach Port Lawrence High School. Different high schoolers stare and whisper as you hurry past them. Your eyes scan every door number until you finally catch him. You slam open the door to a quiet classroom filled with students on laptops.

You, out of breath, clear your throat. "Mr. Bratt, you forgot your lunch. "

He looks over at you, slightly confused for a moment. "Oh, yes. Thank you, Ms. (L/N). "

The students all look at each other in pure confusion. This stranger just showed up in their classroom, making a huge scene to give their teacher lunch.

What. The. Hell.

Nathan quickly takes the lunch from your hand, uttering a ‘thank you’ before kissing your cheek. You shut the door behind you as you hustle out with not another word; a hush falls over the room.

Suddenly, a student named James raises his hand. "Who was that? "

The once-quiet room erupts with questions coming from all sides. It seems like Mr. Bratt had some explaining to do.

#nathan bratt x reader #nathan bratt #goosebumps 2023 #goosebumps #justin long x reader #justin long #he is so babygirl

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incognit0slut · 10 months

Text

Body on mine

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Y/n and Spencer finds a way to spend the night together on a team retreat. Based on;

warnings: 18+ includes overstimulation, chocking, unprotected sex, creampie, and soft!dom Spence with a mirror involved

words: 5.9k (hehe)

a/n: my goal is to make you hot and flustered by the end of this, also watch the edit I made based on this writing (using voice ai because I mastered eleven labs!). The more delusional we are, the better🥰

MASTERLIST

“…when you put your body on mine, and collide, collide…”

"SNEAK INTO MY ROOM TONIGHT."

Spencer’s gaping mouth was an indication of how baffling her suggestion was. He tried not to give away the disbelief in his eyes, especially when he was good at maintaining a poker face—given he was a master of the game—but it was hard to act as if her words weren’t affecting him. And they did. Badly.

In fairness, it wasn't simply her words that stirred him. It was everything about her. The way she carried herself, the way she stood in front of him, a silhouette against the backdrop of crashing waves and gently swaying palm trees. The way the sun illuminated her features, highlighting the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

But it was her words that heightened his senses as his mind conjured vivid images of what would happen with her proposition. It also reminded him how her suggestive offer happened at an inappropriate time, a moment when he should have exercised restraint.

"I'll leave the door unlocked," her sultry voice, carried by the gentle wind, reached his ears like a melodic symphony. It was a sound that evoked a longing deep within him. "Come by around midnight."

He gulped as his eyes wandered to their teammates gathered by the shore, engaged in a spirited game of beach volleyball, their competitive spirits matched by bursts of laughter and playful banter. Everyone was there except for Rossi who sat under the shade of a massive umbrella, and of course, excluding the two of them, who were now huddled under a food stall nearby.

Spencer had the duty to bring in more snacks and drinks when Y/n offered her help. It turned out she had other intentions behind her assistance, which was anything but innocent with the way she was standing close to him, bringing up their ongoing rendezvous without their friends' knowledge. At the thought of this, he nodded their way. "They'll notice."

"Not when they're fast asleep they won't."

His eyes drew back to her. "Hotch is a late sleeper."

"You're right," she mused, then she gave him a coy smile. "Come by my room around 2 then."

His eyes darted around nervously, his mind locked in a relentless battle between reason and longing. His thoughts swirled in a whirlwind of forbidden fantasies, each one more tantalizing than the last. With a heavy sigh, he gathered the strength to resist the pull of his desires. "Do you think we should do this?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm offering you to sleep with me and you're opposed to the idea?"

"What? No!" He quickly shook his head. "I didn't mean it that way."

She fixed her eyes on him with an alluring gaze, her lips curved into a mischievous smile. He watched as she removed the plastic wrapper of her recently bought popsicle, pulling out the frozen treat, her fingers moving with deliberate slowness.

"Loosen up, Reid. It'll be fun. Besides," she continued as she drew the ice pop closer to her lips, feeling the coolness radiate from the icy surface. "I brought something along this trip that I really want to show you."

Then he watched her, his eyes drinking in the way she wrapped her lips around the cold treat, unraveling the boundaries of his imagination. She savored the tangy sweetness that burst in her mouth, her eyes never leaving his gaze. The bright red juice trickled down her chin, leaving a sticky trail in its wake and Spencer felt the weight of temptation pressing upon him, especially when her tongue slid along her mouth, capturing every last drop of the delicious treat.

Her movement exuded a potent magnetism, a subtle yet irresistible lure that drew him closer to the edge of indulgence. He would be a fool to decline a night of having her sweaty, naked body writhing under him.

"I'll be there."

And that was how he found himself walking stealthily through their rented villa hours later.

True to his words, Hotch was a late sleeper. But he wasn't the only one still awake in the dead of the night. Somehow he and Rossi were still in the kitchen, indulging themselves in the expensive liquor Rossi had brought along on this retreat. They had also invited him to join, but Spencer feigned fatigue and quickly excused himself, only to find Morgan and Garcia coming down the stairs as he climbed up to the second floor.

Now it was barely past midnight and half of the team was still wide awake—but he couldn't wait any longer. Not when the curiosity of what she wanted to show him fueled the fire within him, intensifying his longing with each passing second.

That was why he was making his way toward her room as stealthy as possible. He glanced down the dim-lit hallway before stopping right in front of her door. It was then he heard the faint shuffling noises coming from the room next door, certain it was Emily's lodging for the night. Then suddenly the door next to him rattled and Spencer's eyes widened as the adrenaline coursed through his veins, his heartbeat quickening its pace.

He reached out in a single fluid motion, his hand trembling ever so slightly, and grasped the cool metal handle in front of him. A rush of relief washed over him as he quickly slipped into the room before closing the door harshly amid his panic, a jarring thud echoing in the silence.

The sudden sound jolted Y/n as she twirled around in surprise.

"Reid," she hissed, her eyes darting toward the clock on the wall. "What are you doing? I told you to come by in another two hours!"

He looked over to her, and whatever thoughts he had at that fleeting moment completely dissolved into thin air. His eyes fell upon her and his words become entangled in a tangled web of astonishment. Spencer had seen her in clothes that weren't exactly modest, but he had never seen her adorned in a risqué outfit that accentuates every contour of her body.

The dress clung to her like a second skin, embracing her curves with a provocative grace, tracing the outline of her waist and hips with tantalizing precision. His eyes caressed the gentle slope of her shoulders, the smooth expanse of her collarbone, and the delicate neckline that plunged daringly. The delicate lace and sheer panels teased his senses, offering glimpses of beauty that lay beneath the surface—a beauty he could see a fragment of as his gaze lingered on her hard nipples pressed against the see-through fabric.

"Is that—" He cleared his throat, the hoarseness in his voice sounding foreign to him. "Is that what you wanted to show me?"

She looked into the full-body mirror she stood before by the bed, catching her reflection. "Technically. I brought a bunch of these and I was trying them on..." Her eyes drew back to him. "Until you came sooner than expected."

"Should I not be here now?"

"It kind of ruins the surprise."

His eyes slowly roamed across her body, stopping a little longer on the short hem of her fabric that stopped in the middle of her thigh. "I'd say you've accomplished whatever reaction you were aiming for."

She watched as he took a slow step forward, his eyes never wavered from her, locked onto her form with an intensity that had her feeling breathless. "I take it that you like this one?"

"I love it."

An amused smile formed on her lips. "But you haven't seen the other ones I brought."

"I'm certain I would also love them on you. But this—" His gaze revealed the depths of his desire, a hunger that burned bright within him. It was a flame that flickered in his eyes, igniting the anticipation that coursed through his veins. "Never knew I liked the color red."

As he took deliberate steps towards her, a surge of anticipation gripped her being. The intensity of his gaze, filled with longing and need, held her captive. With each stride, he closed the distance between them, his presence growing stronger, more intoxicating. She could feel his gaze caressing her, leaving a trail of heat and anticipation.

As he finally stood before her, the weight of his presence wrapped around her like a warm embrace. Visibly heaving and clenching her thighs, she peered at him with veiled anticipation, unbidden lust scorching at her core which lost all battle to and demanded to be consumed by the heat that radiated from his body. She could feel the intensity of his need, tangible and potent.

"You're beautiful," he said, reaching for her waist, both of his thumbs lightly rubbing along the material of the soft fabric. Then his hands slowly slid their way up her hips, gradually snaking their way up over her rib cage until both of his large palms paused at her breasts. "So fucking beautiful."

Then he squeezed her breasts roughly over the material and she gasped, thighs tightening together.

Y/n wasn't sure which reason she was surprised more, the way his touch was rougher than usual or the fact that he was cursing, because there were only two occasions for that to happen—either he was really, really mad, or he was far too aroused to properly filter his mouth.

It was definitely the latter considering she could distinctly see the bulge forming in his pants. And then his hands were quickly sliding down her body, gliding down over the curve of her ass. Feeling his fingers splay wide over each cheek beneath the fabric, he abruptly gave her a firm squeeze.

The way they stood in front of the mirror gave him a clear view of her backside as he marveled at the way her flesh molded in his grip. The tips of his fingers grazed her skin, the fabric having ridden up while he roughly kneaded her ass. Spencer almost purred when both of his hands fully slipped under the material only to be greeted with bare skin.

"Are you not wearing anything under this?" he whispered into her ear, the tip of his nose nuzzling into her cheek.

"It's called a thong."

He took a step closer and she could feel his arousal pressing into her leg. His forehead dropped down to her shoulder, resting there as his nails lightly dug into the flesh beneath his hands. "You want to torture me, don't you?"

She couldn't stop the giggle falling from her mouth. "Maybe."

He lifted his head, gently nipping at her shoulder. A shudder ran down her spine when he lightly kissed the spot afterward. "Laugh all you want now," he softly murmured against her skin. "You won't be able to laugh by the end of tonight."

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to surrender completely to his caresses, to the raw intensity that pulsed in her veins. "Spence."

The way she pronounced his given name held a power that transcended the ordinary, leaving him spellbound. "I love it when you call my name."

She felt a surge of confidence in his words that she let out a moan a she threw her head back, giving him better access while he gently peppered her neck with kisses. "Spencer."

Then it happened in a flash. One moment he was holding her gently and the next thing she knew, rough fingers gripped around the base of her throat, forcing her to look into the depths of his eyes. She could sense the unyielding force of his longing and desire. It was a palpable energy, a hunger that radiated from him, enveloping her in its intensity. She squirmed in his grip, mouth open as she gasped for air.

"Now you're just playing with fire."

She sensed the dominance that simmered beneath his touch, an innate desire to take control, to possess her completely. His hands, firm yet gentle, left trails of sensation along her skin, marking her as his own. It was a force that she couldn't ignore, nor did she want to. Instead, she surrendered to the raw power of his need, allowing it to wash over her.

"I must warn you," he murmured, licking across his bottom lip. "I'm not feeling like my usual self tonight."

She felt a shiver of anticipation ripple through her body. His words, laced with a commanding tone, sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core.

"You trust me, don't you?" She found herself nodding in agreement. "And you'll tell me if I'm being too much on you?"

She nodded again.

A satisfied smile played on his lips. "Good."

Then his breath was on hers. Their lips finally met in a gentle, tentative union, the soft brush of skin against skin. It was a delicate dance, a mingling of breath and desire that sent ripples of sensation throughout their bodies. She gasped out a moan, not expecting the enthusiastic way he devoured her, rolling her lips into the frantic motions of his wandering tongue.

As their bodies pressed closer, their mouths molded together with a hunger that defied words. It was a sensory feast, an exploration of pleasure that left them craving for more.

He slowly pulled away and breathed against her lips, "Turn for me."

Her hazy mind was trying to comprehend his request. "W-What?"

"I want to see you. Turn around for me."

She obliged his command without further thought, mostly because she was already willingly surrendered to the force of his dominant nature.

He stood behind her, his gaze fixated on the reflection before him. The soft glow of the ambient light accentuated her curves, casting a mesmerizing aura around her. His fingertips grazed the smooth surface of her arm, a gentle caress that sent shivers of anticipation coursing through her body. "Look at how beautiful you are."

He watched himself in the mirror as his hands made their way from caressing the softness of her stomach to gripping onto points of her hips and then up over the swells of her breasts. He gave them both a firm squeeze, admiring how they looked in his hands, how her skin radiates beneath his own. Then his lips descended upon the nape of her neck, pressing gentle kisses that left a trail of fire.

She whimpered when he pinched gently at her nipples to see it harden instantly against his touch. "...Spence."

He hummed a satisfied sound as his hands found their way back to her hips again, directing her with a low, sultry groan, "Sit down between my legs." Her eyes snapped towards his through the reflection. He simply smiled. "Don't worry. Just let me admire you."

That was how she ended up sitting in front of him on the bed, her back resting against his chest. Spencer carefully nudged her legs apart with his hand, and she couldn't resist looking away when she saw herself in such an explicit and vulnerable position. His breath, warm against her skin, mingled with the scent of her arousal, creating a heady atmosphere of desire. "I thought you wanted me to admire you in this outfit?"

Her eyes were brought back to the mirror. "I do."

"Then watch me while I do exactly just that."

He didn't leave her time to react because his fingers were already trailing around to feel over her stomach, across the dip of her navel, up and down the thickness of her thighs until they stopped between her legs. She could see herself clearly. The slick fabric of her thong was already a second skin to her, sticking against her arousal which barely covered her sex. Then his fingers moved deliberately slow as he grabbed onto the flimsy material, gently knitting it together in his hand before pulling it up along her wet folds.

Oh my god.

The friction startled her as she felt an unfamiliar pain while he continued to tug on the fabric, but at the same time, she felt a surge of arousal as it nudged against her clit. She was lost in this feeling, of him grinding the material against her core, of the view of her legs spread wide open in the mirror, of his ragged voice breathing in her ear... it was all too much.

And when she thought she couldn't take more of the pleasure building up in her body, he proved her wrong by pushing her thong aside, finally exposing her flesh in the open. The second his fingers slipped into the pooling wetness of her folds, spreading them open for himself to see, she couldn't help but let out a moan louder than she intended to.

"Shh," he cooed, his breath hot against her skin. "We don't want the others to know what we're doing, do we?"

She shook her head helplessly, watching as his fingers continued their exploration. She could already feel him harden with each steady, rhythmic beat of his heart while his fingers explored her, collecting the slick of her arousal before spreading it along her folds. His voice was a bit louder this time, the filthy words echoing in her clouded mind, "You like this, don't you? Look how fucking wet you're getting."

There went another curse word and somehow it managed to peak her arousal. There really was something about being the reason for him to act this way, so primal and dominant, so crude and demanding. His voice, deep and resonant, carried an authority that sent shivers of anticipation cascading through her body. It was a voice that commanded attention, demanding her full submission to his desires.

"Do you wanna see how my fingers look inside you?" He was taunting her now, teasing his fingers around the entrance of her like a twisted, evil game.

One of her hands gripped his thigh, the need to be pleasured so strong in her core that she couldn't help but cry out desperately. "Spencer, please...please."

He gently laughed at her despair, the throaty sound made her shiver. She let out a soft whimper when he finally gave her desperate pleas by sliding his middle finger into her.

Her eyes rolled at the back of her head before she instinctively closed her eyes. "Fuck..."

It wasn't long before his other hand gripped her chin, forcing her to open her eyes. "Keep your eyes open or I'll stop," he groaned into her ear. This alone almost sent her teetering right over the edge, just feeling his finger locked inside her. She settled to watch how his hand flexed as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of her before adding another to stretch her out.

The bedroom was quickly filled with the lewd sound of his fingers plunging into her, suddenly moving at a crazy, mind-numbing pace as he curled them the way he knew would make her weak.

Her throbbing heat swallowed his fingers greedily as she caught a glimpse of them in the mirror, the only sounds echoing in their shared space were the hard breathings and low noises of her wetness and his fingers finding that sweet spot relentlessly. Spencer gently placed a kiss on her cheek and pressed his palm against her clit, feeling her body jolt in pleasure as he moved his hand.

She turned her head towards him, her lips capturing his in a needy kiss. He swallowed all her whimpers and bit her bottom lip before her tongue slid inside his mouth, sloppy and rough, and yet he wouldn't have it any other way. The closer she was reaching her high, the more intense the movements of his fingers became. She let out a gasp when the coil in her stomach tightened her core.

"Keep your voice down," he whispered, his fingers still driving in and out of her. "Don't worry, I got you. I got you."

She did her best to try to drag her focus back to their reflection through her fogged daze from her heavy, closing lids. The sight of him withdrawing his soaked fingers from her to circle changing patterns across her clit elicited a symphony of sighs and gasps, a testament to the depths of her pleasure. She could feel his breath against her skin, warm and tantalizing, as he placed gentle kisses along the nape of her neck.

"Spence...I'm so close," she sighed between heavy pants.

He nodded against her. "I can feel you. Let go for me. I want to see you."

She closed her eyes, ready to simply enjoy the thrilling and wonderful feelings of the pleasure he was bringing to her. When she was about to reach for her high, rolling her hips against his fingers as the tension in her body rose higher, he suddenly pulled them out and she whimpered at the loss. Her eyes settled on his gaze through the mirror.

"Sweetheart," he whispered gently, but then his fingers gripped around her throat again, forcing her attention back on her arousal glistening in the light. "I need you to keep your eyes on yourself."

She let out a strangled moan but managed to nod her head helplessly. Satisfied she was listening to him, he then started rubbing her clit roughly. She let out a muffled cry as she felt her orgasm rushing, his hold tightening around her throat as his fingers kept stimulating her clit in quick motions. She cried out his name over and over like a skipping, broken record.

"That's it. Say my name," He nipped at her skin, stinging that sensitive flesh between his teeth. "You're doing so good."

One look at the reflection before her was all she needed to fall apart. Seeing his arms holding her in place while his thighs were wide open behind her was more enticing than she had ever imagined. The way he touched her, so caring yet so dominant was the last drop for her to come hard, nails digging painfully into his forearm as her body went rigid.

The person staring back at her was one she almost didn't recognize. Her hair was frizzy and disheveled as it stick to her cheeks, her cheeks were flushed bright red and her face was coated in a sheen of sweat. Her eyes followed down her own body to see the mess coating his fingers, pooling between her thighs. She was still trying to reel back her senses when he suddenly let go of her.

"Lay on your back," he demanded, carefully pushing her onto the bed.

Then he proceeded to jump off the bed, his hands quickly removing his shirt before throwing it to the floor. Then she watched him as he started unbuckling his belt and—how did he manage to make it look so sensual? He dragged his tongue across his lips as he lingered at the sight of her sprawled wide open before him. The sound of his zipper being pulled down echoed throughout the room while he locked her gaze, finally slipping out of the last piece of clothing.

In one swift motion, he reached out and hooked his arms under her thighs and roughly yanked her further toward the edge of the bed. She squealed at the sudden movement in which he leveled her with a strong, disapproving gaze. "What did I tell you about keeping quiet?"

She nodded and watched as he slipped off her thong through her legs, slightly lifting her hips. Then he moved closer and positioned himself between her legs, taking his twitching cock in his hand as he stroked from base to tip, ready to bury himself inside her.

"So messy," He mumbled, dragging his cock along her folds as the head caught her entrance. "You're drenched."

She grumbled out a faint whimper.

"Make one noise and I'll stop," he sighed before slotting the head of his cock through her slit, catching the dewy arousal pooling there. Every fiber of his being trembled with the weight of desire, teetering on the edge of control.

"S-Spence," she mewled, her cheeks heated at the sensation of him pushing into her, the burning stretch of his tip reached places that felt nearly impossible to find.

"Shh," he whispered, desperately holding onto every self-control he had with the way she was already gripping him. "God, you're so tight."

"Baby," she mumbled, biting her bottom lip as she looked up at him with the utmost desperation. "Just fuck me already."

It was as if a dam had burst, unleashing a torrent of pent-up desire that had been building within him for far too long. The walls he had erected to hold back his cravings began to crumble, surrendering to the tempestuous storm that raged inside him.

With a breathless whisper, he reached out, his hands trembling in anticipation. "I'm afraid I don't have the restraint to be gentle," he exhaled, appetence thick in his throat. Searching fingers trailed over her stomach and eventually rested at her thighs and dug into the flesh until he couldn't hesitate anymore, and thrust to the hilt. "Forgive me."

At that moment, he finally let go, relinquishing control to the overwhelming force of his desire. He started out slow, enjoying the tightness wrapping around him as she gasped out his name. It was like he was reading her mind, moving at exactly the right pace to make her comfortable, but also building that delicious pressure. The roll of his hips pulled her into a trance as her body responded; muscles straining, eyes widening, lips parting.

She watched as he threw both of her ankles up onto his shoulders, his hands pinning them to his body. She felt his fingers firmly grip her legs tighter before he abruptly snapped his hips forward, his cock driving all the way into her instantly.

“Keep going," she breathed out, eyes snapping shut.

The grip on her face startled her as her eyelids fluttered open again. "Keep your eyes on me."

A low moan escaped her lips. He leaned over, hovering above her, his hands pushing her legs as they pressed against her body. The position allowed him to bury himself so deep inside of her, that the pleasant sting of him hitting her reverberated around her entire body. Her legs along his chest were already trembling against him as he continued to slam himself into her over and over.

"Don't make a fucking sound."

She hummed a reply before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, hungry kiss. He trailed his lips down her throat before slightly pulling away, watching the way she was staring up at him, gasping and withering at every hard thrust of his hips. Her eyelids grew heavy under the weight of his stare, her mouth going slack as she felt the slow withdrawal of his cock, but she wasn't prepared for the way he rammed himself swiftly forward into her seconds later.

"Fuck, baby," she whimpered, feeling him stretching her all over again.

His hand slid back down to her throat, wrapping his fingers around it. Squeezing with just the right pressure, he picked up his pace, his hips rocking more rapidly into her. The hand on her throat tightened and she relaxed into his touch, feeling her climax reaching up to her as her own hand latched onto his forearm.

She continued to meet his savage thrusts with her hips, though his pace was near impossible for her to keep up with. Every soft grunt of his was falling almost into her ear and she couldn't help the way it was sending goosebumps across her skin. "Spence."

He could feel her walls clenching around him. "Don't come before me."

The demand startled her, because in honesty, Spencer always prioritized her needs before him. "W-What?"

"Trust me," he grunted, his lips hovering inches above hers. "Hold on a little longer."

There was nothing else she could do but to obey. There was something addicting with the way she easily surrendered control to him with so much trust that made pride swell in his chest, something about the sight of her obediently agreeing to him. Each forward thrust of his hips had her jolting, her breasts bouncing inside her barely covered outfit as the tip of his cock hit deep inside her.

The sounds that filled the room were vile. She faintly looked down between them as the crude sound of her slick walls squelching around his cock rang in her ears, leaving creamy rings of her slick around the base of his cock. A motion almost knocked the wind out of her as she let out a silent moan, lips parted in pleasure as he began a frantic pace.

And then he came undone. The intensity of his orgasm was enough for him to have an out-of-body experience, his vision going white as he filled her, her name drunkenly dripping off his lips. It was also enough for her to feel his warmth spread in her core, enough for her to clench hard around his cock as her own orgasm tugged her without warning, her legs shaking and her vision blurred as she felt the sensation traveling through every nerve of her body.

Her pleasure didn't go unnoticed by him as he frowned, his chest heaving while he tried to calm himself. "I thought I told you to wait."

She looked up at him tiredly. "You made it hard for me to wait."

He gave her a manic smile that sent a shiver down her spine before prompting himself on his arms, his dark curls tickling her skin as he stared down at her. The moment she felt him moving his hips again, she looked up in a panic.

"What are you doing—shit." He thrust his hips into her violently, her body squirming at his movement. "T-Too much."

"You came without my permission, might as well give you another one."

She bucked wildly beneath him, trying desperately to escape the tormenting way he was thrusting into her. She bit her lip from making a sound as he leaned back, pushing her thighs wide to expose her to him. "I-I can't."

"You can," he muttered, eyes never leaving the way he filled her up, his own release coating the slickness of her arousal. It was such a crude, messy sight, yet he was so infatuated by it. His thumb then fell on her swollen clit, moving it frantically in a circular motion. "You've been doing so well."

"Fuck." She stuttered out incoherent words as he thrust in and out of her in quick progressions, impatient and rabid. Pleasure and pain intermingled with each other so much that her brain couldn't process which one was which as they blurred. "Spence."

Then she couldn't take it anymore. It was too much for her to bear as her body erupted in flames, every vein of her being scorched with the fierceness of pleasure running through it, every collision of his hips into her sending sparks down her thighs. The climax swept through her like molten lava, swallowing her whole and threatening to drown her in a sea of pleasure.

"That's it, good girl," he grunted. There was something about how she was letting him witness such a sight, to let him bask in her lust-driven state. His fingers continued their torture on her clit. "So fucking pretty."

He didn't allow her even a moment to reprieve or a second to fully come down from her high, keeping up the same frantic pace until she was freefalling into another orgasm so strong that she briefly forgot how to breathe. It wracked through her like a creature possessed, pulling her muscles taut and rendering her completely speechless. She couldn't have screamed his name even if she tried. Every nerve seemed to vibrate with divine electricity that consumed her entirely. She trembled uncontrollably, her limbs quivering with the sheer magnitude of the sensations coursing through her body.

Her vision became a hazy blur as the world around faded into insignificance. The room, once familiar, now dissolved into a backdrop of abstract shapes and colors. Her eyes, filled with tears of ecstasy, mirrored the tumultuous storm within. They spilled over, tracing a path down her flushed cheeks. She gasped for breath, struggling to anchor herself in the midst of the whirlwind that enveloped her.

Somehow amidst her shaking form, Spencer managed to pull her into his embrace, settling them onto the mattress before pulling the covers over their body. He held her and peppered the side of her face with gentle kisses as his hands soothed down her trembling body.

“Hey, I got you. I'm right here."

The intensity was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a fusion of pleasure and vulnerability that brought her to the edge of her limits. She clung to the precipice, teetering on the brink of overwhelming release, as her body continued to convulse. Her grip tightened on his arm as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"Baby, breath with me," he muttered, gently cupping her face. "Breath in... breath out."

She followed him, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took as he helped her through it. And as the tremors subsided, she gradually returned to herself, her senses reawakening to the world around her. Her breathing steadied as she basked in the aftermath of the blissful storm that had swept her away.

"I'm sorry."

She shifted in his arms and glanced at him, noticing the way he was looking at her with worry. "Why?"

He gently swiped away the remnants of the tears still glistening in her eyes, evidence of the overwhelming intensity that had consumed her. "I pushed you too much."

"Spencer," she said, her voice dripping with astonishment. "That was the best sex of my life."

An amused chuckle escaped his lips. "Yeah?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "And it would hurt my ego if you don’t say the same thing."

His shoulder shook as he continued to laugh. "Y/n," he urged on, pressing a soft kiss on her mouth, smiling against her lips. "You're the best of everything that has ever happened to me."

As his words washed over her, a surge of warmth and tenderness enveloped her heart. She looked into his eyes, her gaze locked with his, and she could see the sincerity that radiated from his every word. His confession held a weight that transcended mere compliments or flattery and a soft smile played upon her lips as her eyes shimmered with a mixture of joy and disbelief.

But their moment was interrupted by the sudden sound of the door rattling without their knowledge.

"Y/n," Garcia walked into the room, her eyes focusing on the tablet in her hand. "Can you—"

Then she looked up, her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she stood still. She blinked, hoping to dispel the illusion, but it remained, solidifying the reality of what she beheld. She finally let out a scream.

"What the hell?!" She groaned in disbelief, quickly turning around. "Seriously?"

Y/n winced and let out a sigh. "...surprise?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't see that!" Garcia yelled, already out of the room as she shut the door behind her. Then her voice rang in the air, muffled by the walls. "I'm happy for the both of you but very, very traumatized."

Her footsteps disappeared down the hallway and Y/n let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding. She quickly swat Spencer's arm and gave him a glare. "You didn't lock the door?!"

He gave her a sheepish smile. "Oops."

"Reid."

"You distracted me with your outfit!"

She groaned, burying her face against his neck. It wasn't that she didn't want anyone to find out about them, everyone would eventually know how infatuated they were with one another. But she never thought they would find out this way.

He slowly kissed her shoulder before mumbling against the skin, "So much for keeping quiet, huh?"

She burst into laughter, shoving an elbow into his side, not knowing whether to find this amusing or wanting to die out of embarrassment. "Shut the fuck up."

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absolutelynotmate-archive · 1 year

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birthday-- c.leclerc social media au

pairing: c.leclerc x female reader summary: Charles makes a post on your birthday and chaos that transcends the f1 world ensues a/n: this is directly inspired by justin long's birthday post for kate bosworth. he is the blueprint for all men until the end of time. I've moved blogs! find me now @formulaforza

charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly, yourbestfriend, and 2,394,261 others tagged: yourusername charles_leclerc The happiest of birthdays to this human, daughter, sister, best friend, wine aunt, badass professional, girlfriend, embodiment of womanhood, soulmate, and everything else good in this world. You are the best parts of each morning, afternoon, and night. You are the smell of fresh laundry. You are the belly laugh of a child in the park. You are the snuggle of a puppy and the morning dew on the spring grass and a pair of jeans that fits every spot perfectly. You are the coal and the diamond, the bottle of Domaine and the box of Bota, the black ice and the fresh snow, refined and messy in all the best ways. You love harder than anyone I have ever met. You are so kind and considerate and giving that we had to put a spending limit on the family holiday gift exchange. You never let us go to bed angry, even if that means we don't sleep. You are headstrong and confident. You are deeply optimistic, believe the lights will come on even if they haven't worked in years, even if you have to fix them yourself, even if you have to use a flashlight and sugar-cookie candles to light the way until they shine bright again. You are fun to wake up with, you are fun to laugh with, you are fun to do everything with. You make my favorite movies and jokes and songs and days better. You pick up the messy pieces and painstakingly glue them back together with gentle and meticulous fingers. You are loved by too many to count. You are loved by me. So much more than a million Instagram captions could ever dream of containing. You are one of a kind. You are everything this world wants and everything it doesn't know it needs. Happy birthday to you, my love. You are the greatest to ever do it. I am honored to love you, more honored to be loved by you. View all comments f1 Happy Birthday, Y/n! carlossainz55 Feliz cumpleaños, Y/n formulagirlyyy1 brb gonna go walk in front of a train madie_nichols holy fuck this is the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me and it's from a stranger to another stranger yourusername Mon Amour. The honor is all mine. Thank you for loving me wholly and unconditionally in every form. yourusername but surely there had to be better pictures tho, no? landonorris hbd y/n one day you will realize how much charity work you do. charles you make me sick. lilymhe this is actually making me feral alex_albon i'm not good with words like this just fyi alex_albon i do love you like that tho

#f1 #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #CL16

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worldlxvlys · 3 months

Text

collide

matt sturniolo x singer! reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, grinding

a/n: hope you enjoyyyy <33

“thank you guys so much for all the support and coming out here tonight” i said into the microphone.

the audience members replied with deafening applause and cheers.

i laughed into the microphone, still soaking in this unreal experience.

i had gotten about halfway through my set, and now was just taking a quick breather.

“i also wanted to give a huge thank you to my best friends, for always being there for me and constantly showering me with love and support” i said as i glanced over to the triplets.

best friends. well, two of them were my best friends. matt, however, was more than that to me.

we were dating, but we hadn’t told the fans yet, not wanting to deal with the hate that would most likely come with it.

but the fans aren’t dumb.

due to their insane attention to details, they were easily able to pick up on the feelings that matt and i had for one another. they just didn’t know that we’ve acted on them.

once i put out my first album of songs, titled chemistry, the fans quickly realized i was with someone. they had their suspicions, but i never confirmed that it was about matt.

most of the tracks on the album were love songs that i wrote over the years. they weren’t even necessarily for matt, i just wrote them whenever i was overwhelmed by my feelings for him and needed a way to get them out.

song writing helped me to process my feelings, and it just so happens that matt takes up almost every thought in my brain.

“i wouldn’t have made it this far without you guys and i’ll never truly be able to put into words how grateful i am” i said while looking at the boys in the VIP section.

in response, nick smiled and blew kisses while recording the interaction, like a proud mom at their child’s performace; chris did an awkward happy dance and screamed “we love you!” , and matt sat there with a lovesick look on his face and a shit-eating grin.

after a few more, we got to my favorite song on the setlist.

“this next song, literally just came out and is already doing so well, and i thank you for that” i was met with more applause.

after introducing the song, the first few chords played and then stopped, teasing the audience.

they went wild. after a few seconds, the intro really started to play.

MATT’S POV

i been knowing you for long enough

damn, i need you right now

she looks so good. her outfit was tight, fitting her in all the right places and accentuating her curves.

you can take your time, don’t have to rush

this might take us a while

she sounds incredible live. her voice is smooth as she effortlessly slides through the runs, never missing a note.

i left all the doors unlocked and you said you’re on your way

when you get here don’t you say a word, got no time to play

she might genuinely be a siren, luring me in with her seductive, yet somehow sweet and innocent-sounding voice. her tone is crystal clear and it almost makes me want to cry.

we can go all the time

we can move fast, then rewind

when you put your body on mine

and collide, collide

she starts to sway her hips to the beat, and i genuinely think i might lose it.

wanna see your body on mine

and collide, collide

her skin is coated with a light layer of sweat, making her body glisten under the lights. she looks like a goddess.

baby it’s all yours if you want me,

all yours if you want me

she looked directly at me when she sang this line, and the feeling of the intense eye contact went straight to my dick.

put it down if you want me tonight

she smirked lightly, no doubt enjoying how red my face was turning. she knows what she’s doing.

she made her way through the song, continuing to tease me. she would slowly run a hand down her body or lean forward to sing to the crowd, giving me a perfect view of her breasts.

god, they look like they’re gonna fall out of her top.

when she got to the bridge, i swear the sound of her voice alone almost made my eyes roll back.

i know that this is love when we touch boy

you got my heart

and can’t nobody make me feel like you do

boy like you do

the fact that there was so much tension between us, despite being so far away was driving me crazy.

it could be one of those nights

where we don’t turn off the lights

wanna see your body on mine and collide, collide

i could listen to the sound of her voice for the rest of my life.

i love it when she talks, when she laughs, when she sings, when she moans.

i swear when she hits certain notes, it almost sounds like she’s moaning. but no one else knows that, because i’m the only one who pulls those sounds from her pretty mouth.

those pretty lips, always soft and glossy, perfect for kissing.

by this point, my dick was throbbing as it pressed against my jeans.

said it’s all yours if you want me,

all yours if you want me

put it down if you want me

let’s collide

her head fell back as she finished the last note, basking in the endless amounts of applause she received.

her neck looks so pretty, i need to kiss it.

she looks up at me again, moving her tongue across her teeth.

yeah, she’s definitely doing this on purpose.

the further she got through her setlist, the more turned on i was.

her tits bounced when she jumped around during her upbeat songs.

at one point, she was full-on twerking. she threw her ass in a circle, her skirt riding up the slightest bit. i fully thought i was going to cum in my pants.

after she finished the last song, she began to adjust her skirt while she gave her closing speech. when she moved her hand, i saw the waistband of her panties peek through.

waistband, if you could even call it that. it became evident that she was wearing a g-string under her skirt.

i completely zoned out of what she was saying, too focused on all of the filthy thoughts that began to flood my mind.

before i knew it, there was another round of applause before she walked off of the stage.

suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

READER POV

after a few minutes, i heard a knock on my dressing room door.

i opened the door to reveal matt and i quickly pulled him in before closing and locking the door.

“hi baby” i whispered.

“hi my love” he said before placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

“you did amazing, baby. and you sound better and better every time you sing”

i looked down bashfully, the corner of my lips turning up into a grin. “thanks”

he placed his finger under my chin, pushing it up to look at him.

“ you shy now, baby? didn’t seem like it when you were shaking your ass on that stage”

i glanced at his lips before looking back up at his eyes.

“you liked that, baby?” i asked as i turned around, moving my hair over my shoulder.

i began to grind on him, moving my ass on his hard dick.

“fuck yes, baby. shittt” he groaned as one of his hands wrapped around my waist, the other moving to grab my boob through my top.

the hand that was around my waist moved under my panties, gently rubbing my clit.

“fuckkkk matt” i sighed out, my head pressing against the door.

his breathing got heavy as he rutted his hips against my ass, pushing his face into the crook of my neck.

“talk to me baby, please. gotta here that pretty voice” he choked out as his voice got slightly higher in pitch.

“ yeah baby? like the way my ass feels against your bulge? want me to twerk on you?” before he could answer, i bent over slightly.

my skirt inched up, exposing my ass and making his fully erect cock dig into it.

“fuck! you can’t do that, baby. i’m gonna cum”

“take these off for me” i said, pulling on his jeans.

he quickly complied, unbuckling his belt and pulling them off while i turned around to face him.

he swiftly picked me up, bringing me over to a vanity and placing me down on top of it.

my back was pressed up against the mirror, which was cool against my burning skin.

he brought his lips to mine in a hot, desperate kiss.

his hands crept under my skirt, pulling my panties off without breaking the kiss.

he smoothly pocketed them before collecting my wetness with his finger, using it as a lubricant to push his digit inside of me.

“shit, matt” i moaned out as he fucked me with his finger.

i reached down between us, stroking his length through his boxers.

he added another finger, stretching me out.

“oh my god, matt. so fucking good” my eyebrows furrowed as i leaned my forehead against his.

“gotta make sure my princess is nice and stretched, never wanna hurt you” he spoke between grunts.

i moved my fingers to the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down and watching his dick slap his stomach.

his tip was red and covered in pre-cum.

he removed his fingers from my aching pussy while i pumped him a few times, before guiding him inside of me.

we both groaned at the feeling of my walls squeezing him as i took him inch by inch.

he gave me a minute to adjust before thrusting into me deep and hard.

i screamed his name, probably loud enough for anyone outside of the room to hear.

“yes baby, lemme hear that gorgeous voice. god, i love hearing you say my name”

matt pushed his hips up into mine with full force, his hands on my waist to hold me steady.

“you feel so good wrapped around me like this baby. you’re so good” he whispered.

he pushed me into the mirror with each thrust, producing a loud thud each time it hit the wall.

the vanity shook under me as he kept up his relentless pace.

matt took my legs and hooked them over his shoulder, continuing to ram into me.

i felt my orgasm approaching, and i grabbed onto matt’s biceps, needing something to hold onto.

“matt matt matt, i’m gonna cum!” i yelled frantically.

“me too, give it to me baby. wanna feel you dripping down my cock” his words sent me over the edge.

with a final cry i released all over him, while he filled me up.

he thrusted a few more times, helping us ride out our highs before pulling out.

“god damn” i whispered out as we watched our juices spill out of me.

“you’re so fucking amazing” he said as he cleaned us up.

after we got dressed and made our appearances look somewhat presentable we stepped out of the dressing room.

“where are your brothers?” i asked with furrowed brows.

i pulled out my phone and saw a text from nick.

we’re going outside to wait. we can hear you freaky fucks from across the venue.

matt and i looked at each other and bursted out laughing.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf

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avaf00rdxx · 1 month

Text

Little Shits 4

Arsenal wfc x teen!reader

Auswnt x Teen!reader

summary: you cherish some special and cheeky moments with you club team during your birthday week, and the end of Camp with you national team.

warnings: none, maybe that its edited shit - someone teach me to feel confident with my writing again so i can actually write something good

-----------------------------------------------------

“You can’t make up your mind, mind, mind, mind, mind!” You and Alanna screeched into the microphones on the team bus back from Marvel stadium.

“Make it stop!” Kyra screamed over the extremely loud music, covering her ears, causing other girls to laugh and yell in agreement

“Shawty is a eenie meenie miney mo lover!” You sung into Caitlin’s face in her seat, she recorded you as she laughed, you would later find that video on her insta story.

Alanna threw you over her shoulder as you walked back to your bus seats once you were both finished your karaoke song. Voices gone.

You and your national team had just won against Uzbekistan with a wicked 10-0 and were officially going to Paris. Something you had been losing sleep on for weeks.

“You have ruined Justin Bieber for me you two!” Mimi yelled over the rows

“Oh get over it!” You yelled back laughing

You had some of the sprite bottle that was in your backpack to cool down after the performance before Alanna laid on your shoulder from next to you. “Tell me I’m dreaming and we don’t have to get on a 3am flight”

You pinched her

“Ow don’t pinch me” she exclaimed as she rubbed the now red skin

“Dreaming?” You laughed “we are going to be awake the whole night before that it’s fine”

“I’m already tired” she said before muzzling herself back into your shoulder.

“You’re boring” you said already bored at her energy level, getting up out of your seat while the rest of the bus was still singing and going nuts in excitement.

When the bus reached the Hotel you all took the lift to your respected rooms. You all had roommates this camp, and you were with Caitlin as she would usually room with Sam.

When you reached your room you both plopped onto your bed's before you reached over to the phone next to you as Caitlin got up to use the bathroom.

“Room service?” You asked as she had left the room to shower, before she quickly popped around the corner again and pursed her lips at you grinning. Implying a cheeky ‘yes’.

You dialed in the number as the phone rang to the kitchen and greeeting the staff on the line. “Yes just two of your cheese burgers, two fries, one side salad, two chicken nugget meals please and your umm…chocolate Sundae as well as your strawberry one” you said, ordering a lot for you and the hungry brunette

Caitlin came into the bedroom once again, giggling at your requests on the phone.

“20 minutes is fine. Thank you!” Before hanging up the phone and putting it back on the bedside table.

“I’m not gonna have any room for my airplane food!” Caitlin said

“I don’t understand how you like that stuff”

“Airplane food is great” she shrugged

You both had 1 hour before you had to leave for the airport. It wasn’t long at all, considering you both had stuff scattered around the apartment. Caitlin’s face cringed in confusion at your choices but left it before she got on the phone with her girlfriend and your Arsenal Teammates Katie.

—————————

“No fucking about alright? Everyone is tired” Mackenzie warns you and Kyra as you are lined up for boarding, large carry ons in hand and an all too eager duo consisting of you and your best friend.

“Hm” Kyra shrugs at the tall brunette

“We won’t, I’m tired too you’ll be fine” you reassured Mackenzie

As you slowly made your way down the boarding bridge you yawned more than twice on your way you were sure. Greeting the flight attendants you and Kyra made it to your respected seats.

You had fallen asleep after an hour, which is what you were specifically not meant to do due to all of the London Aussies trying to align themselves back with European time. But you slept for five hours and now you were up. Bored as nothing else as basically the rest of the plane slept.

Peeking over the small separator of a wall between you and Kyra, you found her dead asleep. Mouth hung open like drool was about to drip out any moment. You sent a photo of the girl in her state to your Matilda’s group chat, attaching ‘I hope all you who didn’t have to leave at 3 are having fun🥰’.

Quickly deciding to get up and go to the bathroom, you found Mini waiting at the bathroom door for someone to come out so she could go. She found you walking down the aisle and smiled at you before opening her arms slowly to hug you.

You lazily accepted her arms and slumped into her embrace. “I fell asleep just before” you said leaning into her side, keeping your feet grounded as the plane slightly felt wobbly.

“Naughty” Mini chuckled

When the older woman came out of the bathroom, Mini offered for you to go first but you insisted she go. Then noticing a very tired toddler in her seat a few rows down from the bathroom as you waited, Harper yawned bringing her smaller arms up to stretch which made your heart melt. Her tired and slow eyes found yours as she smiled before opening her arms for a hug.

Even though you were quite a fair bit away for her, you made your way back down the aisle to sit next to her in her overly large seat. She crawled into your lap, resting her body there. You, Carefully stroking her arm and looking around the plane at some of the girls asleep, you had completely forgotten about needing to use the toilet before Mini came down the aisle once again.

———————————————

“And to all those returning home, welcome home” the captain said sweetly over the overhead speakers, Kyra rolling her eyes. You had slung your carry on over your shoulder and prepared to get straight out of your seat once Kyra had gotten her over-head carry on out.

“Hello London” you said once you finally made it to baggage claim and stopped to stand and stretch for a moment, before resting on your suitcase waiting for the other girls to grab their’s. Katie would be picking both you and Caitlin up and would drop you home. Teyah picking Kyra up.

“Oh my gosh can I please get a photo y/n!” You heard an excited voice behind you. Your tired expression immediately vanished as you turned around on your heel to meet with the voice.

A girl and a boy that looked about 10 years old stood there cutely with their phones out asking for a photo. “Me?” You asked smiling

“Yes! Only if that’s okay” the short boy said

“Of course” you smiled before putting your handbag on top of your suitcase so you could take the photo.

“We are Australian too! We are on holidays” the girl explained once you handed her phone back to her after you all took the photo

“Oh I thought I heard some Australian accents” you laughed “what do you think of London?”

“It’s very cold” the girl said

“Yeah” they both laughed

“Oh I agree. Bit different from Australia. What are your names?” You asked them

“I am Emma”

“And I’m Luke I play soccer like you!” The small boy said after his sister

“That’s awesome wow!” You said excitedly.

“Hey y/l/n, Katie’s here” Caitlin said from behind you. Not seeing the two young fans that you were talking to just yet.

“Caitlin Foord!” The little girl said excitedly before they both ran off to her. The small boy waving to you as he ran.

You looked a little to the left to find the Irish girl standing there smiling at the interaction, you walked towards her before she started to do the same to you when she noticed you. You hugged, a hug that felt long because it felt soothing to be in her arms like always. Every time Katie hugged someone, it was liked she always framed them in her arms perfectly.

“How you going tiny?” She asked looking down at you with that wide and comforting smile.

“Good”

“Good” Katie mimicked you

“Very tired but I’m happy” you shrugged before pulling her back in. Before feeling a slight tug at the hood of your jumper. Caitlin pulling you away from Katie, so she could greet her. You grabbed your suitcase quickly while they kissed and did whatever else you chose not to look at for too long.

“Let’s go” Katie said grabbing your suitcase off of you so she could hold it before you all walked to her car and out of the airport.

————————————————————————

“Vivvy I don’t need your help” you groaned as Viv came over to where you sat at the dining table, attempting to help you with your homework for the 10th time tonight.

“We aren’t starting this movie until it’s done and unless you want to be hated from us collectively I suggest you pick up that pen” Viv stated trying to keep her words firm and clear.

“Kyra I’ll have one” you pointed to Kyra who was at the fridge getting herself a coke. Completely ignoring Viv who attempted to help you hurry up.

“I give up we are starting the movie” Viv said before walking back to the living room where most of the girls were already.

It was a team bonding night with some of the girls who lived super close to you, Kyra and Alessia’s building. Everyone forced the idea on you that you would host. As no one else was bothered to host and cook for everyone.

You were quite a good cook as the 16 year old yourself. So you gave in, but had deadlines for your online school due tomorrow that you were nowhere near done. The girls found out about your deadlines and made sure you finished them.

“I’ll just ask for an extension” you shrugged getting up and heading to your kitchen to grab the coke off the island that Kyra left for you.

“You can’t just ask for an extension every time” Caitlin, your Australian teammate, said from her position leaning against your kitchen counter, digging her grimey fingers into the leftover salad on the counter.

“out” you flicked her fingers out from the bowl and pulled her arm with you into the living room. “Yeah well I don’t know my teachers so I don’t care” you shrugged before you both sat down on the couch. Caitlin having to take the floor, sitting in between her girlfriend’s legs, due to there being no more space left in the couch nor the beanbags.

“Excited to be 17 tiny?” Laura said from her position on the couch next to you

“Very” you smiled sweetly. It was your birthday in two days.

“That reminds me. Game day in two days, so we can’t watch this full movie” Kim said from the other end of your couch

“Oh come on” Leah groaned like a child to her club Captain

The movie had been playing for around 45 minutes now. When Kyra’s intrusive ideas quickly sprung up and she was sharing them with you. “If we snuck out no one would notice” she whispered

You quietly chuckled at the comment that came completely out of no where, before some of the girls turned to look at you, as the movie scene playing was definitely not that funny.

“Mate how are you gonna do that”

“Your gonna do it with me” Kyra said, you laughed quietly dropping your head and shaking it.

“Yeah and where the hell are we gonna go”

“We can literally just go to my apartment or the lobby. Just to see how long they notice, or how long it takes for them to finally find us” she said finally now leaning back into the couch to act casual, but waiting for your response. Instead you headed to the kitchen

“I’m grabbing water” you said as the rest of the girls eye’s stayed on the screen, Kyra’s following you before quickly getting up and following you when you motioned her to do so.

“I’m in, come on” you whispered before grabbing your key and heading for your front door, which was luckily behind the couch where the rest of your friends lay.

“Should we take our phones?” Kyra asked looking back before she shut the door behind her.

“Nah” you shrugged before Kyra finally shut it, very, very gently.

Bad idea.

————————————

Vic’s Pov

I got up to use the toilet, softly apologise to girls as I stepped over their legs that sprawled out over the carpet before I made my way to the bathroom. I knocked, remembering that Kyra had gone in not too long ago.

“Kyra?” I questioned softly after hearing not response, knocking again. “Kyraaa” I dragged out as I very very gently opened the door slightly to see if she was even in there. When my head finally poked through, I saw no one there. Walking in to double check, there was no one.

“Guys where is Kyra?” I yelled from the bathroom not too loudly. There was silence for a moment as none of the girls bothered to respond to me.

“Where’s y/n?” Katie yelled back, making me exit the bathroom and go out to see the rest of them. “Y/n” Katie slightly yelled across your small apartment. Going to check your bedroom and guest bedroom. “Did you say Kyra was gone too?” Katie asked me as she walked to the rooms, the movie now paused.

“Yeah she’s not in the bathroom like I thought she was” I said before following Katie, me laughing slightly once we checked both rooms only to find them not anywhere.

“Fuck me” Kim said under her breath, now getting up front the couch, Teyah also getting up along with Lia. Viv and Leah asleep on the couch.

Kim went to the kitchen to grab her phone so she could call y/n and Kyra. “Kim” Katie said motioning for her to look at herself, holding up both there phones as she walked out of the room. Signalling they left them.

“Why do they do this” Caitlin said as she went to your front door to look out into the hallway, before completely disappeared down it to look for both of you.

end of pov

———————

“You dumb kid why did you say no when I asked about taking phones?” Kyra groaned as you both sat up against the wall, the outside of your apartment building. You and Kyra had ventured down to the lobby, only to think that it was too obvious, so you walked outside into the dark and sat outside the building. Dangerous. Yep.

“Oi Don’t call me that. Why did you ask me then?” I rushed

“This is boring come on” Kyra said before getting up and reaching her arms out, offering for you to latch on so she could help you up. Kyra dragged you back through your libby and then out a door. Leading to the car park.

“It’s so scary down here no” you said standing in the emergency doorway that you had both snuck into. It was 11pm, pitch black, and Kyra was making her way over to the box trolleys. The trolleys that the residents used to take up large items.

“Push me” Kyra said sitting down in the middle of the trolley, putting her hands in her lap, and crossing her legs.

“No” you hummed

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“Only if you push me after” you gave in. It sounded fun.

“Don’t push me into a car” Kyra laughed as you started to walk with the trolley “faster cmon”

After spinning the trolley around for no more than two minutes filled with laughter and Kyra screaming as the trolley headed for the cement wall. "Okay off, my turn please" you said tugging on Kyra's sleeve before you helped her out of the trolley. As you went to hop in, you both heard the squeaky but heavy door leading to the car park swing open from he other side of the lot. Thinking someone was here to kill you both, you shared a paranoid look before instantly moving behind the red car you were both near, you peaked through the car's back window to see if you could see the figures that had entered, you heard the voice of a female before your eyes landed on Katie, Kim and Teyah.

"Is it a man?" Kyra asked, not looking, her back against the car.

"what? oh, no, worse. Kim Little"

Kyra just looked up at you and smirked before pulling you away, further into the dark parking spaces filled with cars. "Oi!" a strong Irish accent was heard, you looked back as you and Kyra ran through the large car park, locking eyes with a stern Kim Little. "Get back here!" Katie yelled again, a slight goofiness in her voice.

Kyra pulled you behind a car as you noticed Teyah and Katie running up to follow you, you and Kyra ducking out again and running behind another car. "Stop" Teyah breathed out as she ran after you two again. You turned back around only to realise you were running straight towards your captain Kim.

"Ah shit" you chuckled as your jogging came to a stop "hey it was funny-"

"we didn't know where you were, everyone was looking for you two!" Kim exclaimed

"Why" you asked smiling and still breathing heavily, recovering form your chase. Hearing the squeals and laughs from afar, Katie and Teyah were still taking off towards Kyra as they basically played tiggy.

"cause we all care about you. And it worried me that you and Kyra just left"

"Kyra's 22!" you said throwing your arms up

"Is she" Kim said, motioning towards Teyah and Katie tackling Kyra into the cement ground while she broke out into a giggling fit. "besides you're 16!"

"and you're over reacting" you breathed out before grabbing your jumper off the ground near the door and making your way to the exit. Getting in the elevator by yourself, pressing the button with the number 16 on it, heading to your apartment again. Though the lift stopped at ground level, above the car park, someone also trying to get the lift up.

Once the elevator doors opened, a blonde girl with a messy bun and her head in her phone was walking in. Not seeing you yet. "Shit"

Leah looked up from her phone at you. "There you are" Leah said, hitting the back of your head before rubbing your hair aggressively.

"Ow" You groaned, rubbing your head.

"I was looking outside for you, where's Kyra?" Leah said as the lift dinged and you both walked up the hall.

"Kyra's with Kim, Katie and um Teyah" you said, now unlocking your apartment door.

"Where on earth did you go" Leah asked now

"first outside, then the car park" you grinned

"look who it is!" Viv said as you both walked in, from her spot on the couch next to Beth, Laura and Alessia.

"Where is the rest of yous'?" Beth asked you simply shrugged, not bothering to answer, before collapsing into Laura's lap on the couch.

"You're kinda sweaty" Laura said from above your head.

---------------

Your birthday happened to land on a Thursday, which was your day off. Which meant your birthday would be spent not in the gym, and relaxing, just how you preferred. You sat up in your own bed, in your own apartment face timing your whole family on your computer. Once that ended, you stayed in bed, smiling and your heart warming at the Instagram posts your friend's back in Australia had created for your day, and the one's from your teammates also.

After a slow 30 minutes, you finally left the comfort of your blankets and got into the shower to freshen up for the day. You would be meeting the 'London Aussies' for breakfast this morning. Which included you, Caitlin, Steph, Macca, Sam, Kyra and as of late, Mini and Charli. It meant a lot to you that they took the morning's out of their day off to spend it with you on your birthday. Something you weren't sure would've even been thought about when you nervously moved across the world.

Steph offered to pick you up. So after applying some light makeup to match your usually-bronzed Australian self, changing into a warm outfit consisting of Jeans and a crew neck, Steph had texted you that she was now out the front of your apartment complex.

A wide grin was plastered on both your faces as the glass door outside your lobby opened, Steph leaning against her car waiting for you, large bouquet of yellow flowers in her hand. "Happy birthday Dancing queen!" she exclaimed before engulfing you in a tight hug, slightly lifting your feet off the ground in the warm gesture, you giggled at the comment before she let go of you.

She handed the flowers to you, "for me?" you asked in awe of them as she smiled.

"Of course" Steph said warmly

"Thank you it means a lot to me" you said hugging her again.

"Okay let's go i'm starving" She said before skipping off to the other side of the car to drive. You chuckled as you got into the car

"Where are we even going" you asked on the road, curious as to where you and your Aussie teammates would be eating

"I forget what it is called but I have taken you here before, you loved it" Steph said. Moments later, the car pulled into the parking lot, you remembering the cafe now. You saw Kyra getting out of the car with Charli, from your window.

Meeting up with all your Australian teammates from all around London once again made you happy, almost was the highlight of your day. During the breakfast, you got photos together at the table, some of the girl's mentioning that they would post them on their stories later for Instagram. You spoke about the Olympics, Sam's recovery and wedding plan's, along with plan's of Steph's big day also.

"You're gonna love the present from me and Katie" Caitlin grinned, nudging your shoulder, You let out a quiet but excited squeal.

"What are your plan's for the rest of your day y/n?" Sam asked you before sipping her iced coffee.

"I have been invited over to Beth and Viv's place for dinner tonight. So just chilling at my place then I will head over for that" You said to the girls, them all nodding.

-----------------

Your birthday breakfast was over and Steph had dropped you back home, after taking you to the super market. To buy you whatever Sweets or snacks you wanted for your own apartment. You heard a knock at your door so you walked over to it and peeped through the door. Only to be met with a man in a fluro green vest and black hoodie.

"Y/n y/n/n?" the man asked. You hesitated at first, the multiple worried chats from Leah pondering into your mind about not talking to people who just show up at your apartment. That was before you looked down at the large box with pink wrapping paper and yellow ribbon, the object softening your initial expression. You quickly nodded at the man, before singing on a line from the form he put in front of you.

"Thank you" You smiled before he headed off, leaving the pink box at your door. You went to pick it up, it was heavier than you expected, but you brought it inside and placed it on your dining room table. You unwrapped the gift and saw the card from Katie and Caitlin. Their sweet words about how they were proud of your journey and their love for you had you smiling to yourself. You had received multiple gifts, most of them at training yesterday though, they all made you extremely grateful for the teammates you could call home now. The gift from Katie and Caitlin was a light pink Smeg mixer for baking may not seem to exciting, but baking and cooking for the people closest to you was your love language at this point.

Your teammates had become used to you hosting dinners, with your cooking skills. Also getting used to and comfortable with you regularly bringing them baked treats you had made. Some of them like Katie, Leah and Kyra had become quite demanding that you visit them with treats now.

On the cardboard box the mixer, Katie had written largely in thick-red sharpie 'I expect a shit ton of cookies now', her writing taking up the whole left side of the box. You laughed to yourself at her antics before opening up the box and taking a look at your present.

-----------------

You and Viv got out of her car, where she had parked it outside her and Beth's flat. You were here to spend your birthday dinner with them. "Ready?" Viv asked before she opened the door.

"Uh yeah why" you questioned. Quickly before the door swung open and lights were turned on

"Surprise!" yelled a group, you shooting your head up.

You were met with the beaming faces of your whole family. Including your parents, older siblings, grandparents and closest cousins. Your jaw hung low really fast in shock. Your Australian family was all her in front of you. "What are you-" you yelled in excitement before running into your mother's arms. You greeted your whole family eagerly before hugging Beth who watched you interact with a proud smile.

"who did this?" you asked looking up at her, Beth still holding you

"i may have organised it. But you can thank your siblings" she grinned at you before you hugged her tighter.

You spent the rest of the evening eating pizza and talking with your family. You ended up having to get takeaway as Viv bought the wrong meat from the butcher to make for dinner. Forever grateful for your biggest supporters in your life and your Arsenal and Aussie teammates.

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Not my best fic at all so i apologise. And i'm so sorry it took so long. Uni is kicking me in my ass daily so it's hard to edit a such.

xxx

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