#then had the absolute audacity to believe he defeated it after like immediately being knocked out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

breakyeol · 3 years

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— SQUIRM, BABY.

You don’t like Doh Kyungsoo. Especially not when he’s got his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you and your seeing stars —goddamn stars!— but can’t make a sound unless you want the entire library to know exactly what he’s doing to you under the table.

┗ Pairing: Tutor!Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: college au, tutor au, enemies w benefits au, smut

Words: 4.7k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, sexual acts in a public setting, fingering

A/N; tomorrow is going to be my 1 year anniversary as an EXO-L!! oh my goodness that feels so crazy, time really flies. so here is a little present from me to you, enjoy lovelies!!

“These are all wrong,” Kyungsoo mutters blankly, “start over.”

A loud groan is ripped from your throat, the sound earning you more than a few sideways glares from the surrounding tables but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been here for two hours, studying one of the most intolerable subjects in the world: Calculus. The mere mention of its name made you shiver in disgust.

To be blunt, you’d always been shit at math. Numbers and equations were never your strong suit, not in high school and definitely not now with the added complexities of derivatives and differential equations (neither of which made even the slightest bit of sense to you). You much preferred the gentleness of literature and history to the strict logic and rules of mathematics and science. Unfortunately for you, the latter subjects were just as vital a part of your education, and opting out of them was not an option.

“Can’t we take a break?” You almost whine the question, pressing your fingers into your throbbing temples. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“No.”

You scowl at the bluntness of his rejection. “I’m paying you.” You point out, stabbing a finger into his bicep for emphasis. “Shouldn’t I have a say in when we take a break?”

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away and shoving the paper back in your direction. “I’m giving you your money’s worth. Do it again.”

You let out a noisy huff of air, slouching over dramatically in the stiff plastic chair until your chin is pressed against the cold table. “I hope you know I am deeply regretting some of my life decisions right about now.” You grumble, shooting him an icy glare that you hope conveys the absolute loathing you feel for both him and the set of problems laid before you.

“I thought that was a daily thing for you.”

Scoffing, you bury your mouth in the thick sleeve of your hoodie. “Your face is a daily thing for me.”

He doesn’t even bother to look at you, though you could almost feel the intensity of his deadpan. “I think that was the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“Your face is the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“You do realize that that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Your fa—”

“Shut up and do your work.”

He either doesn’t hear or consciously chooses to ignore the colorful array of curses you grumble spitefully in his direction, though simultaneously resigning yourself to the fact that you won’t be able to put off your work inevitably. Kyungsoo was a stickler for proper time management. If he had an agenda set in place for your tutoring session (which he always did), then you better believe he’d be checking off each item within its designated time frame. And if you don’t cooperate— well then, your best bet is to pray that there isn’t a mechanical pencil within his reach.

He might not always be able to reach the top shelf, but Kyungsoo had ways of getting what he wanted. Usually, that chilling glare was enough to get those around him to bend to his will. He could be a scary little shit when he wanted to be. You’ll admit, even you had been the tiniest bit intimidated when you first met him. He was quiet, reserved, strict in manner, but also the dangerous unpredictable type, you gathered that much quickly enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you didn’t get on too well.

Where he was cool and standoffish, “a man of few words” some might say, you were more vocal about your opinions, social by nature, always eager to meet new people and make new connections. You had a tendency to speak loudly when excited and talk with your hands when passionate about a subject. That was something most people learned about you very quickly. Unfortunately, upon your first official meeting at a party in your freshman year with your mutual friends, Kyungsoo had no idea just how emphatic you could be until you’d knocked his drink clean out of his hand and spilled it down the front of his brand new shirt.

It was an accident, of course. You’d apologized profusely and he’d accepted it (albeit somewhat begrudgingly), but that was probably the first of many missteps in your... unique relationship.

With such conflicting personalities, it was understandable that you got into frequent arguments about one thing or another. Petty disagreements would often grow into something larger than they really needed to be. Mostly because despite having such contrasting personalities, you shared the trait of innate stubbornness, neither of you willing to admit when you were wrong. It was easy to argue with him, and you liked when you proved him wrong. You liked the way his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed. You liked the way he glared, the way his lips pouted. You like the challenge he presented you with every time he opened his mouth. Above, you loved to win. Especially when it was against him.

So you pushed, and he pushed right back. And before you knew it, you found yourself a proper ‘frenemy’, though you aren’t sure that that’s quite the right word to describe whatever it was you two were.

But that’s just how the two of you are, how you’d always been. If you were being honest, riling him, seeing that usually so stoic, so controlled expression crack when you pushed just the right buttons— it was fun. You thoroughly enjoyed fucking with him, discovering new and creative ways to get under his skin. And you knew he got just as much satisfaction from doing the same to you, rendering you speechless with witty comebacks, flustering you with his sharp tongue and impressive rebukes.

So really, was it such a terrible thing?

Not to mention, a number of not-so-terrible things occurred as a result of one of your many arguments, such as hiring him as your calculus tutor. One that started out with you claiming he would probably be the shittiest teacher to ever exist (which seemed a valid argument at the time considering how short tempered and impatient he could be *cough* with you *cough*) to which he rebutted with the claim that he could “teach a goldfish advanced calculus” if he set his mind to it, and considering that you “had an IQ equivalent to one”, he could without a doubt teach you. His words, obviously.

It just so happened that you had a calculus exam coming up that next week, so to prove his point, he tutored you for the three days preceding said test. Even though you loathe being proven wrong, you ended up getting one of the highest scores you’d ever gotten on a math test in your entire academic career.

Putting your pride aside, you made the suggestion that he continue to tutor you. He only agreed when you offered him green in exchange for his troubles and admitted that he was right (it took a few extra hours to convince yourself that your grades should be held above your ego before you could bring yourself to verbally admit defeat).

And now here you are, not flunking out of calculus. You’d consider that worthy of the bruise to your pride, even if only by a small margin.

“Kyungsoo, why’d you mark this one wrong?” You frown at the large red X marking problem two as incorrect. You’d been glaring at your scribbled work for almost two minutes, running over the problem in your head, but you couldn’t seem to figure out where he thought you’d gone wrong. It looks right enough to you.

Kyungsoo shifts over to get a better look, his arms pressing against yours in the process and you are briefly stunned by the sudden, unexpected closeness, wholly unable to stop yourself from noticing the faint, woody scent of his aftershave that caresses your senses. Fuck. You can’t tell if you hate or love the fact that he smelled so good. Partly love it because good hygiene is always something to admire in a man (even if that man was Doh Kyungsoo), partly hate it because dammit it’s Doh Kyungsoo and you loathe finding anything that has to do with him attractive. Plus, it’s distracting. You’re here trying to learn and he has the audacity to go around smelling like pine trees and fresh moss after a rainfall. Unfair.

“Right here.”

The scowl you don’t realize you’re wearing immediately drops away as the low baritone of his voice thrums through the cavity of your ribcage and you lean forward to see exactly what he’s pointing at.

“You multiplied straight through instead of distributing.” He explains further upon seeing the uncertainty on your face. A few seconds of further inspection and you finally see what he’s talking about.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “I’m so stupid.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” He reassures.

“Yeah, but I should know that by now, I should’ve—” you turn your head, only to nearly choke on air as you discover that any space that once existed between the two of you has virtually disappeared, “... seen it.”

He’s close, so close that you can feel the cool rush of his breath against your skin as he exhales, goosebumps bristling across your arms in response. He’s close. Too close. You can’t think straight, can’t even breathe. The moment that surrounds you feels fragile, like even the slightest disruption would rupture it completely.

Frozen, you can only swallow around the sudden dryness of your mouth as your treacherous eyes drop to trace the plush line of his lips. Who even has lips like that? They’re just so big and so pink, that dark, kissable kind of pink that every girl just wishes her lips could be. You, included. They look soft, and you can’t help but to wonder if they’d still taste like the strawberry bubblegum he’d been chewing on at the beginning of your tutoring session.

“Careful, ___.” The sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, raspier than you recall it being before and laced in a faintly taunting pitch, is enough to break you from your trance and, once freed, you whip your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash.

“Fuck off.” You cough, jaw clenching as you attempt to drag your mind out from the gutter and back onto the calculus problems you have yet to correct. But for whatever reason your brain refuses to cooperate, instead filling your head with images of his pretty mouth and everything it could be doing instead of rambling on about something as uninteresting as calculus. Damnit.

No doubt seeing the distress written clearly across your face, Kyungsoo chuckles, the sound low and smooth where it drips from his lips, and a familiar heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach.

You can feel his eyes on you now, every cell of your being suddenly hyperaware of his presence beside you. The pressure of his knee where it nudges against yours, the teasing curl of his lips as he watches you struggle to focus, the warmth of his palm caressing up your thigh, the— wait what?

Your gaze whips down, breath hitching at the sight of Kyungsoo’s hand gently gripping the lagging clad flesh just above your knee. It’s another few seconds before you’re able to find your voice again.

“W– What’re you—?”

“Focus.” He cuts you off smoothly, fingers soothing over the inside of your leg, squeezing gently. When you don’t look away from him, he smirks, jerking his chin forward in a manner you can only interpret as challenging. There’s a familiar glint in his eye, a dangerous glint that doesn’t fail to provoke your competitive side. You know that look well. He’s challenging you.

And you don’t back down from a challenge.

Especially not from Doh Kyungsoo.

Determination flairs up inside of you, your jaw clenching as you strike him with a single, heated glare that read plain and simple ‘you. are. on.’ before honing all your attention onto the worksheet in front of you. It’s not too difficult to focus at first, to disregard the tingles that erupt across your skin where his hot touch sears into it. You manage to find and correct your error in one of the problems (impressive for you even if Kyungsoo wasn’t feeling your leg up under the table).

But whatever pride you find in doing so is quickly quelled when his hand suddenly shifts higher, and you feel the faintest pressure against your heat. It’s a sensation that robs you of your ability to breathe entirely for a handful of seconds, and you can’t stop the shiver that ripples down your spine.

This, you see, is one of the more recent developments in your oh-so complicated relationship with Doh Kyungsoo. Yet another that began with a disagreement at a party, over something you can’t even remember anymore thanks to the haze of alcohol that clouded both your minds at the time, that spiraled way out of proportion. You remember yelling at him, insulting him, stabbing your finger into his chest, feeling the sting of his lethal glare. God, he’d looked so pissed off, and you just fed off of it, fed off the rage and the frustration that festered like lava in those dark brown eyes. The angrier he got, the harder you pushed, until he finally snapped.

You’re still not sure what you expected to happen. What you expected him to do. But you sure as hell hadn’t anticipated him grabbing you by the throat and pulling you into one of the hottest, most mind numbing kisses you’d ever experienced.

Next thing you remember is being in a bed. Whose bed it was, isn’t important. What is important, however, is the fact that that night you had the best sex of your entire life with the man you thought you couldn’t stand.

Hate sex with Doh Kyungsoo opened your eyes to a whole new world of mind boggling pleasure that you’d never experienced before. Pleasure that no other person had ever been able to give you. God, the things he did to you. No one had ever touched you like that before. It was like he knew all the places on your body that made you unravel. He honestly ruined all other men for you that night because none have even come close to comparing. Which was beyond frustrating especially considering that, at the time, you thought it was a one time thing.

The morning after you both pretended that nothing happened. In the two weeks following as well, neither one of you mentioned it. You tried to erase the memory from your brain, tried to go back to normal, but it was hard considering every time you needed some sexual release (which was more often than you care to admit), it was his hands, his mouth, his cock that you imagined while you touched yourself. You replayed his moans in your head, his deep, rasping voice growling your name, and fuck, you never came harder.

But it was still nothing compared to the real thing.

As time passed you only grew more and more frustrated. Worst of all, you could tell he was feeling it too. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, with fire burning in eyes, in the way he spoke to you, with a pitch of something hot and wanting in his voice, in the way he lost his cool far quicker and far more often than he had in the past, your arguments fiercer and more frequent than they’d ever been. The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick enough to be cut with a knife. It got to the point where even your most oblivious of friends started noticing it as well, though they knew better than to voice their curiosity.

The second time it happened, you were both sober and, somehow, it was even better than you remembered. The pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming, a feeling you can’t even put into words. Then it kept happening. Late at night when he’d show up unannounced at your door. Early in the morning when you had an important exam later in the day and you needed some pre-test de-stressing. Between classes in the back seat of his car just because you could. At parties when your friends were too shit faced to notice the two of you slipping into an unoccupied bedroom.

Just sex. That’s what you both agreed to when it became blatantly obvious that your little ‘arrangement’ wouldn’t be coming to an end any time soon. No strings. Just sex. Just really, really good sex.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

Exhaling shakily through your nose, you try to block out the feeling of his thumb as it begins to caress gently up and down your clothed core, suddenly very grateful for the layers of fabric that separate you from his intoxicating touch. But it’s a gratitude that’s short lived. Just as you manage to adjust and scribble down a correction, he cups his hand over your mound and squeezes. A gasp escapes you, and you try to cover up the sound with a series of short coughs, the sting embarrassment intertwining with the warmth of pleasure as a few eyes briefly glance in your direction.

“You’re such an asshole.” You hiss under your breath, thighs tightening around his hand, locking it in place.

He throws you a lopsided grin, brows lifting and you don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve been called worse.” What he means is you’ve called him worse.

Your lips part, but any intelligible words die on the tip of your tongue as he grinds the heel of his palm down, directly against your clit. Your head drops, eyes squeezing shut, teeth locking down firmly on your lower lip in order to silence the soft moan that threatens to break free.

“F- fuck.”

You hear him coo tauntingly beside you at your slip, the tips of his skilled fingers easily locating your entrance and prodding experimentally. At this point, you don’t doubt he can feel the fabric of your leggings growing hot and wet with your arousal.

Despite being used to the quick effect he had on your body, you can help but to feel the slightest twinge of shame at how he was able to rile you up this much with little more than a few well-placed strokes of his fingers. But fuck, it felt so good. You’d already been feeling somewhat deprived since you’d both been so busy this past week with exams and projects and what not. This is the first time you’re spending time with him since almost a week ago.

And you are in need of a fix.

“You look like you’re having a bit of trouble on that problem. Do you need my help?” Kyungsoo leans into you, his face right up next to yours, and you have to resist the sudden urge to kiss him right then in there in front of everyone in the stupid library.

Instead, you grit out an unconvincing, “I’m fine,” and force yourself to stay focused on the dizzying mess of numbers and letters on the worksheet in front of you and not on the delicious warmth of his hand where it is applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you teetering between pleasure and the insatiable need for more.

“You sure?” There’s a certain lightness to his voice that tells you he is thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle. Sadistic bastard.

“Positive.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You almost gasp as a rush of cold air fills the places he had been, and you can’t help the frown that tugs at the corners of your lips, disappointment and irritation coloring your features before you can reel them in. From the corner of your eye, you chance a glance in his direction. The smug, knowing little smirk staining his lips sends a wave of heat pulsing into your cheeks, and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“So what, you’re just going to stop?” You whisper sharply, not making any attempt whatsoever to hide your annoyance.

A look of feigned innocence overcomes his features. “You said you didn’t need my help.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at him as hard as you can manage with how incredibly turned on you are. But he remains unfazed.

“If you want my help,” he continues, voice dropping an entire octave, “you’re going to have to ask for it... nicely.”

Nice wasn’t a word in your vocabulary when Kyungsoo was involved.

Seeing the resistance you are still putting up, he feathers his fingers over your thigh, tracing slow designs across the thin, black fabric. You swallow, unable to look away as they trail dangerously higher, teasing closer to where you both knew you wanted them most.

“You do want it, don’t you?”

Fuck, you want it so bad.

You know that he knows you want it. It’s just the getting yourself to actually say it out loud part that proves to be a challenge. But that’s exactly what he wants you to do, he wants to hear you say it, wants to see you cast aside your stubborn pride and beg for it. Beg for him.

Lifting your eyes, you glance unsurely around the library. It isn’t overly crowded anymore since most of the other students have begun to trickle out as late afternoon approaches. Plus, the table you were seated at was tucked into the far back corner of the room, secluded and out of the way. But still, your nerves buzzed at the thought of someone seeing. Though maybe — just maybe — there was a buzz of something else as well. Excitement, perhaps?

Grip tightening around your pencil, you chewed on the corner of your lip, refusing to meet Kyungsoo’s penetrating gaze as you let out a soft murmur. “...ease.”

He leans closer, mirth shimmering in his eyes. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Groaning, you shoot him a scowl, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please help me, asshole.”

Laughter bubbles at his lips, the genuine kind that makes his cheeks lift and his nose wrinkle. You like it when he laughs like that. Makes him look a lot less like a serial killer.

Sinking his teeth into the pillowy flesh of his lower lip to stifle his laughter, he shoots you a lazy grin, “that’s all you had to say.”

Next thing you know, his hand is slipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and into the soft cotton confines of your underwear. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale filling your lungs with cold air as his fingers slid through your slick folds.

“I knew you were wet but shit.” He hisses, thick brows furrowing at the feeling of your heavy arousal coating the length of his digits. “I must say, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” you breathe, eyes fluttering, “even Chanyeol can get me this— ngh!”

Without warning, he plunges his middle finger inside of you, and the remainder of your sentence pitches into a strangled moan. One look at his face, jaw clenched, nostrils flared, lips down turned, tells you he isn’t all too pleased at the mention of another man’s name, especially when he’s the one buried knuckle deep in your greedy cunt.

A hazy smirk curls onto your lips and you let out a low hum of pleasure, walls squeezing around him. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“Is that why you enjoy pissing me off so much?” He questions, tone biting and low, and you shutter involuntarily as he rolls the pad of his thumb harshly over your aching clit.

“Partly.” You admit, somewhat breathless. “But you’re also just a really fun person to piss off.”

He chuckles dryly in response, though the sound lacks any genuine amusement. “You are such a brat, you know that?” He emphasizes the word by stretching you around a second finger, and you have to drop your pencil in favor of clasping your hand over your mouth, unable to swallow down the soft whimpers that tremble up your throat.

“You love it.” You manage to get out before you’re forced to bite into the tender flesh of your palm to muffle a desperate cry when the slow thrusts of his digits suddenly picks up speed. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, hips jerking up to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm. Electricity ricochets through your veins, and you feel that distinctive tightening in the pit of your stomach. Kyungsoo also feels the way you throb and clench around him, and makes sure to grind down hard against your swollen clit.

Heat immediately spreads through your core, the intensity of the pleasure becoming more than you can handle. “Oh god, Kyungsoo.” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, and you quickly duck your head, doing your best to make it seem like you’re focusing on your work and not the fingers drilling relentlessly into your g-spot, praying to god that no one had seen the blissed out expression on your face. Still, you can’t help the quiet whine that escapes you when his ministrations slow.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” He asks in less than a whisper, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Ever hear of subtlety?”

“Ever hear of suck my dick?” You snap back without missing a beat, only to jolt as his fingers curl inside of you, pressing directly against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Every muscle in your body tenses, and fuck you’re so close you can almost taste it. Frantically, you thrust your hips, desperately trying to fuck yourself down on his digits.

“Sit still.” He growls, and you quiver when he sinks his teeth into the lobe of your ear, obeying only because you really don’t want to get banned from the campus library if someone happened to catch on.

“Soo— fuck,” the force with which you bite into your lip is nearly about to break the skin, but you can’t be bothered by the pain, not with how quickly your orgasm was approaching. Sensing as much, Kyungsoo goes the extra mile of drawing hard, fast figure eights over your clit with his thumb while simultaneously thrusting his fingers into you so fast that you swear you can almost hear it.

All at once fire roars through your veins, euphoria consuming you as your high crashes over you. Your walls spasm around his digits, painting them with your release.

He doesn’t withdraw from you until you go slack, thighs spreading, body slumping back in your chair, eyes fluttering as a hazy, blissed out smile touches your lips. You can only watch through hooded lids as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, sighing in amazement as he sucks them clean. There’s a twinge of arousal in your core as he moans softly at the taste of you on his tongue, a downright lethal sound that somehow manages to rouse your positively spent pussy.

This man is going to be the absolute death of you one of these days.

“Fuck.” You chuckle airily, heady gaze flickered over him lazily, only to do a double take when you notice something standing upright beneath the zipper of his jeans. The corners of your lips twirled into a mirthful grin, eyebrows raising slowly.

“Need some help with that?”

“Yes.” He answers shamelessly and without hesitation, grunting softly as he adjusts himself in the tight confines of his jeans to make the raging hard-on he’s sporting somewhat less obvious. “But not here.”

“I figured. So... your car or mine?”

“Didn’t you just get a new one with reclining seats?” He questions, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of his lip at the mere implication.

You strike him with a wicked grin, already beginning to shove your things into your bag. “I did indeed.”

“Then what are we— wait.”

“What?”

“You didn’t finish correcting the worksheet yet.” He points out, drumming his fingers across the paper that had completely slipped your mind.

You pull a face, pausing in the act of gathering your belongings long enough to cross your arms pointedly over your chest. “No offense, Kyungsoo, sweetheart, but I’d much rather suck your dick than do one more of those stupid fucking calc problems.”

His brows leap to his hairline, and he offers a single nod of acceptance, in no position to argue with such a valid point.

“Noted.”

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bloomingnono · 3 years

Text

meant it. (part 2)

pairing: jeno x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: ~ 1.7 k

warnings: language (like one curse word akjds)

intro l part 1 l part 2

a/n: im so sorry for the long wait:( i wanted to make sure i did my best, and wrote something i was overall pretty content with! but here’s the second, and final part to “meant it”!! i hope you all enjoy, especially my dear 🍿anonie<3

also not me making major adjustments 5 minutes before posting💀

taglist of my loves: @luvlyjaemin @vera-liscious @lenaluvs

Your bed felt cold. The type of cold that left your body weak. And yet again, you found yourself fighting to let sleep consume you.

You hesitantly turned to your left side, hoping that maybe, this was all just one big nightmare. That maybe when you turned around, he’d be there.

But you were only met with the other side of your bare bed; your lamp casting an amber tinge on your snow-white sheets.

Four weeks had passed since those final words had been exchanged. He had left you broken.

To say you missed him was an understatement.

You longed for the way your heartbeat quickened at his sight. You longed for the way your stomach fluttered as your name effortlessly slipped out of his lips. You longed for his touch; the way his fingers lingered against your skin.

You missed him.

But at what cost? To hear those three empty words leave his mouth?

No. Never again.

It was unfair to Jeno. But most of all, it was unfair to you.

You didn’t deserve to be told such idle lies.

Especially not from the one person you would give up your entire life for.

Jeno was a naive soul; so sincere and trusting of what only met the eye.

Mistakes were a daily occurrence in his life; learning and growing from them as he paved his way through.

But the second you left, he knew he had made the biggest mistake yet.

On the night when everything ended, there was an inexplainable feeling of void growing within him.

He didn’t have a reason to smile, nor the energy to cry.

Unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, he felt incomplete. It left him numb.

Before he knew it, four weeks had already gone by.

Four weeks since he last held your frame in his grasp. Four weeks since he last saw the face he once fell in love with. Four weeks since he left you utterly broken.

But in those four weeks, Jeno wasn’t living. He was simply existing.

He was merely left in his world; his actions and their consequences, being his sole companion.

He knew it was unfair to continue to lie and prolong the inevitable. But, why did it feel so wrong? It was the right decision to choose... right?

‘To choose.’

It seemed like such a simple action. It was something we did on a daily basis; nearly every second of every day.

Yet it held so much influence.

Jeno had finally realized that now.

Everything in life was purely a choice.

Everything.

You lie on your bed, your mind lost in all the bumps and ridges that painted your cream-colored ceiling.

It was late into the night, the moon peeking its way through the slits of your window blinds. The silence was peaceful, yet deafening.

Despite the unsettling aspects of the stillness, you’re ready for it to devour you; yearning for that feeling of tranquility that you haven’t felt in weeks.

But just as you are about to give in, you’re abruptly interrupted by frantic raps on your front door. Jostling up into a sitting position, you force yourself off your bed to check and see who was causing such a fuss.

The knocks on your door persist, not allowing for a single moment of intermission.

Apprehension quickly overtakes your body, frightened at what could possibly cause such actions to befall at this ungodly hour.

You hesitantly grab your doorknob, carefully turning it and opening the door just a fraction of the way.

You are met with a hunched figure; their hands on their knees and their hair damp with —what can only be assumed as— sweat. Their labored breathing leads you to believe they had run here, and hastily at that.

After a few short-lived seconds, you carefully try to assess the situation; fear still coursing throughout your body.

“Can I help you..?”

The figure instantly tenses at your tone, as if taken aback by the sound of your voice.

You watch in confusion as they begin to catch their breath, and stand to their full height. Straining your eyes to try and identify their face, you’re left frozen at the single feature that was recognizable even in pitch darkness.

His eyes.

You instinctively take a step backward, distrusting your vision.

But your presumption reigns true, as the figure tentatively takes a step forward through the doorway; his face now fully illuminated by your foyer light.

Lee Jeno.

He seemed to be in a terrible state: his hair a mess from the sweat, his clothes violated by the wind, and his breaths still quite uneven.

You attempt to try and form a coherent sentence, but the words seem to die in your throat. You could only look up at him, staring blankly with your mouth hung open.

“Wha... What are you doing here...?”

“I came to see you. I needed to talk to you. Immediately.” His expression was unreadable, yet his tone held the familiar hint of desperation. “I miss you. I want— No. I need you back. Nothing in this world seems right when I’m not with you. I’m not who I am without you. I need you…”

The silence that follows is unbearable.

It takes a few moments for his words to sink in. You feel your eyebrows furrow in confusion, contorting your features into a frown.

But the confusion is quickly replaced with the dreaded feeling of anger. It swiftly fills your entire soul, kindling a flame. The one emotion you tried so hard to repress, viciously engulfs your entire body.

The words that had once died in your throat, quickly resurrect and force their way out of your mouth.

You find your voice again. However, this time, it is nothing but cold and bitter.

“Lee Jeno, I love you. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m still hopelessly in love with you, because I am. But you aren’t. And that’s why I let you go.”

The floodgates were finally opened. There was no going back.

“As much as I still loved you, and as much as it killed me to accept that you didn’t return those feelings for me anymore; I let you go. Want to know why? Because your happiness means so much more than my own. I let you go because I love you so fucking much.”

Jeno stares at you with wide eyes, unable to summon a statement that could somehow ease the pain in you eyes. “I-“

“No, listen!!” Your voice begins break, unable to keep your emotions at bay. The words flow out of your mouth quicker than your mind could process. “I wanted to blame you. I wanted to hate you and resent you so badly for everything you put me through, but I couldnt. Because I still fucking love you!!”

The last statement leaves your throat raw. But you persist.

“You really got some nerve, Lee Jeno.” You laugh humorlessly at the pure audacity, before turning back to him with a renewed flame.

“You left me absolutely shattered. And I couldn’t even hate you for it. I refuse to let you hurt me again. I refuse to watch, as the love for me floods out of your eyes again. I REFUSE!!!”

Every last bit of your energy is wasted on your final words as you scream them at the top of your lungs.

The angry tears streaming out of your eyes seem endless. Your whole body trembles with pure fury as you collapse to the floor, legs giving out beneath you.

Jeno instinctively scrambles to your side, supporting your fragile form with his own.

Too weak to fight against his hold, you allow yourself to be braced by him; the touch being all too familiar for your liking.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” You purposely avoid his gaze as you ask, your voice impossibly faint. You’re left completely exhausted; the anger quickly transforming into pure defeat.

There’s a moment of hesitancy. You feel the sharp intake of breath that he takes before the reply is given.

“I... love you.”

Those three words that you once adored, and now despised... Those three words that had eased all your pain, but now caused your suffering...

Those three words... were no longer hollow.

He meant it again.

A chill swiftly travels down from the top of your spine to the tip of your toes, leaving you senseless.

He promptly proceeds; the hesitancy in his tone now replaced with a new-found determination.

“I love you. And not because I have to, but because I want to.” Cold fingers gently grip your chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze. “Loving you is not merely a spark. Loving you is not lust or simple desire. Loving you is a commitment. I want to wake up every day, and choose to love you.”

There’s another moment of silence; tears of regret traveling down to drip from the point of his chin.

“I’m so sorry for... everything.” He chokes back a sob as the words get caught in his throat. “I loathe myself for being the cause of all this. I will never forgive myself for hurting you and... and I completely understand if you aren’t willing to forgive me either-“

Before he could finish, you crash your lips onto his; successfully silencing his statement. Tears continue to descend both your guys’ cheeks, unable to subside from the overwhelming sense of comfort that came with being in the others’ warmth again.

You sense a familiar arm snake around your waist, pulling you deeper into the contact. Your own arms loop around his neck, absorbing the touch that you had longed for, so intensely.

You pull away from the kiss, coming face to face with the love of your life.

“You have no idea how much I missed feeling those words.” The sentence is muttered, speaking to yourself more than anyone else.

But he heard them nonetheless.

You feel his slender fingers encase either side of your face, his cool touch sending a wave of shock throughout your body. Keeping your face steady in his hands, he slowly leans his forehead against yours.

With his eyes closed and without a single waver in his voice, the words slip out again.

“I love you.”

You soak up the comfort that alluded from such simplicity.

You know that you guys aren’t perfect. Nowhere near it.

But what mattered, was that you were in each other’s hold again.

Because you loved each other...

And you meant it.

end.

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aziraphales-library · 3 years

Note

hi there! i was wondering if you had any recs for fics where the husbands meet up with characters from Supernatural or Lucifer, thanks! :)

Hello!

Anytime there’s a crossover fic involving Lucifer, I’ll always recommend the Angel Network series by SpinnerDolphin.

Serpent Delivery by Dacelin (T) is also a good one!

When Lucifer orders the demons back to Hell, he sends ALL the demons back. And a certain Serpent of Eden would really just like to get back to his love and life in Soho. But Lucifer has other plans for the demon who botched the apocalypse.

Set immediately following the finale of season 4 of Lucifer, and twenty years after the book version of Good Omens.

two of hearts by doctormissy (E - wip) was recommended by one of our followers in this post.

Crowley winced and turned around. He squinted at the King of Hell and his two-day stubble and expensive suit and bloody audacity. His Hell-trained survival instincts really didn’t like this.

That ancient part of him who’s known this man-shaped being since he was a hatchling filed away his escape plan for later, however.

Or: Crowley and Lucifer are siblings, and sure, they’re not exactly on speaking terms now, but that doesn’t stop Lucifer from knocking on Crowley and Aziraphale’s door on a Sunday morning, asking for help. Needless to say, it doesn’t go exactly as planned…

[Or or: on relationships, the Throne of Hell, absolution, and the universe's most dysfunctional family—maybe—coming to senses.]

An angel and a demon in Los Angeles by Valaena_the_Historyteller1 (T)

When president candidate Thaddeus Dowling is murdered and his son goes missing, Chloe and a recently returned Lucifer are ready to get back to action. Meanwhile, Crowley and Aziraphale are running, trying to keep Warlock safe and worrying about a prophecy of Anges Nutter s new book. Amenadiel is keeping secrets... what happened in heaven? And why does Crowley not remember his self before falling? Stars and pain dances in his mind as they try to solve the Witch´s riddles before it´s too late.

Here’s a crossover between Good Omens, Lucifer, and Supernatural:

The Exultant Sound Of A Canon Booming In The Night by sandean_cas (T - wip)

Their final moments are upon them. They’ve played their final card and Chuck is announcing curtain call. But Dean still has a few seconds left. A few seconds to right the only wrong he’s ever truly regretted.

So Dean will do the only thing he can do. His one final move in the famous final scene of Chuck’s shitty story. Something that Chuck believed completely unfathomable. Something, that, throughout all the universes, he’d never seen – not once.

Dean is about to answer a question that Cass should have never even needed to ask.

And maybe – maybe – one last ditch effort in a world gone mad is enough to turn the tides just enough so they might hear what ‘the exultant sound of a canon booming in the night’ really means.

Instead of sending them to Purgatory, Michael traverses all the universes with Dean and Castiel in the hopes of finding one where good prevailed and Chuck was defeated. Along the way Dean and Castiel's relationship is put under strain.

Will Michael play mediator?

Will the alternate versions of Dean, Sam and Castiel force them to face their decisions and mend their relationship?

What ‘the exultant sound of a canon booming in the night’ really mean?

And here’s one with just Supernatural and Good Omens:

SuperOmens:- The family business by SuperxjinX (T - wip)

It's been two weeks for Aziraphale and Crowley since Sam Dean and Castiel left their world. Aziraphale is having a bad day.. A very bad day. One thing leads to another and he is thrust into the violent and slightly chaotic world of the Winchesters.

~ Mod G

#good omens #crossover #lucifer (tv)#supernatural #spinnerdolphin #dacelin #doctormissy #adult omens #valaena-the-historyteller1 #sandean-cas #superxjinx #anon #mod g #Anonymous

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like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years

Text

Just Add Glitter (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

"I'm sorry, Draco Malfoy said what?" Your eyes widened. Hermione nodded slightly. "He called me a mudblood." Slowly you nodded too. "I see." "What a git." Ron shook his head. "No...I know that look- what ever you're thinking-" Hermione began but you interrupted her. "No. No. I'm muggle born too so that affects me." "Just leave it. He's not worth it." She argued. "No but opportunity knocks." You said pointedly before a smile grew onto your face. "Don't you guys worry about a thing. I'll deal with it." You smirked.

A few nights passed and you came into the Gryffindor common room, grinning. In your arms was bundled up fabric, a very familiar green to be precise. Harry stared at it momentarily. "Is that-?" "It this Malfoy's quidditch cloak are you asking? Yes. Yes it is." You smiled. "What do you intend to do with that?" Hermione asked warily as Fred and George moved closer with grins of their own, curious to see where this was going. "I intend to give it back, if that's what you're asking. Not before I do this though." You dropped the cloak and hurried to your bed pulling out a box. "How long have you had that? Malfoy has been looking for it for two days." Ron asked and you grinned back at him. "You took it after I told you what he said!?" Hermione said hurriedly. "No, I waited until that night and then I took it." You said corrected her. "What's in the box?" Fred and George asked in unison. You opened it to reveal glue and a large bag of glitter. Hermione's mouth fell open. "As I said, I intend to give it back...just with a few adjustments." "No." Hermione shook her head. "You'll get into so much trouble if you get caught. I could get into trouble if he thinks it's me." You stuffed the cloak into the box. "Hermione, I can promise you right now...you are not stealing my credit for this. I want this in writing for the history books. Muggle born kids will talk about the day I got our back for muggle kind against an absolute git also known as Draco Malfoy. The Malfoy part makes it sweeter." You grinned.

Immediately you squeezed the bottle, dripping massive amounts of glue onto the cloak. "Wait, seriously, I don't know about this (Y/N)." Hermione began before you turned to her. "Come on. We can't let wizarding families like that get away with this. We're just as valid as everyone else and I'll be damned if an air-head like Malfoy is going to bully you or me because of our families. Think of it as teaching him a lesson. Let's show him why you don't mess with muggles and muggle borns." Hermione thought for a moment before sighing in defeat. "Fine. Do it." You grinned. "That's my girl."

You opened the bag of glitter, standing up. You feigned a gasp of surprise. "Oopsie." You tilted your hand and the glitter poured out of the bag and into the box. Hermione cracked a ghost of a smile as Ron, Fred and George laughed, cheering you on. Harry was silent but wore a smile on his face. It was an amusing revenge. You sealed the box, giving it a shake. "Just to make sure it all gets mixed in there." You smirked as the Weasley brother's continued to laugh. With a quick flick of your wand, the box was wrapped in white with a green ribbon. It practically screamed Malfoy. You made sure it had his name on it before getting your owl to take it away. "Tomorrow at lunch, I need you to deliver this to Draco Malfoy in the Great Hall, okay?" You received a chirp in response and grinned.

Tomorrow arrived and after some time so did lunch. You bit into a bread roll to hide your smirk. Your owl dropped the box in front of Draco before leaving. Neither Draco or his friends suspected it was your owl. Harry, Ron and Hermione couldn't help but tilted their heads to get a view of the show about to occur. They vaguely heard Pansy Parkinson ask of it was from his parents and Draco seemed to believe so.

You couldn't help but stifle your laugh as did Ron and Harry. Hermione kept her eye on the Slytherin table. You had to stop yourself laughing again as well as Ron as Draco shook the box, trying to hear anything rattle inside.

Draco pulled at the ribbon, and opened the box only to be met with glitter, some clear ooze which resembled glue and underneath the mess was his quidditch cloak. It was completely ruined. Draco felt fury burn in his gut. Someone had stolen his cloak and ruined it. Even more so they had the audacity to give it back to him. "Draco?" Pansy looked at him in confusion. "What is it?" Goyle asked. Draco looked up at Goyle to see the Gryffindor table behind him and more particularly your face grinning at him whilst Harry and Ron tried desperately to cover their laughter. Draco narrowed his gaze on you as you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to make a scene. He knew it was you immediately and he was able to piece together why you did it, remembering his encounter with Granger a few days prior.

Immediately, Draco stood up and matched towards you. "My father will hear about this!" Draco seethed and you erupted into laughter. "Oh please tell him, Malfoy. Make my day! I'll be so happy!" Draco stormed off as you continued to laugh.

It took two days, it turned out, Draco did indeed tell his father and his father in turn contacted McGonagall. Which led to both you and Malfoy being pulled out of class and into her office. Draco thoroughly enjoyed the thought of getting you into trouble and to see your face contort into one of guilt and regret after McGonagall expressing her disappointment in you was only adding icing to the cake. He even slid in a sly smirk to you when McGonagall's eyes were on you. He was enjoying the scene very much. "I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall, I let my emotions cloud my actions and I've regretted ever since I saw Malfoy storm off. I understand I can't avoid punishment but I feel more comfortable telling you as well as Malfoy how sorry I am." Tears welled up in your eyes. Draco hoped you would cry. He wanted it more than anything. It would be a complete victory in his eyes.

McGonagall turned to Draco and immediately he could barely pay attention to her. To his shock, you immediately grinned and pulled faces at him. You were faking! "I trust, Mr Malfoy, that you feel any issues with a student can be resolved with your professors?" McGonagall asked. Draco nodded. "Yes, professor." You stuck out your tongue at him before looking down, continuing to pretend you were remorseful. McGonagall turned back to you. "Whilst I admire your change of heart, (L/N), I cannot allow you to go unpunished for this." You nodded slowly, continuing your facade of being upset. "I believe a detention will suffice. Mr Malfoy you are therefore dismissed." Draco nodded before leaving, scowling at the floor, angered that you weren't sorry at all and had tricked McGonagall.

That night you returned to the Gryffindor common room with a grin and were immediately met my Ron, Hermione and Harry by the fireplace. "I hope that was worth it." Hermione sent you a disapproving look. "It was worth millions, Hermione." You took your place by the fire with them. "I believe I have made my point, loud and clear." "I can't believe you sometimes, (Y/N)." Hermione mumbled with a shake of her head. You smirked. "I'd do it again." Harry and Ron immediately laughed.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #reader #hermione granger #one shot #oneshot

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fluffy-marshmallow-heart · 4 years

Text

Two Lost Souls -ch 17

The Elementalists au

Beckett x Oriana

Words: 3447

Series Master List

Complete Master List

Series Warnings: Will contain NSFW content. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Physical, Emotional, Sexual, and Domestic Abuse. Death. Rape, Violence, Manipulation, Drug Abuse, and lots and lots of Angst.

Chapter Warning: Slightly NSFW

By Reading you are acknowledging you are 18 years of age and older.

A sequel to Secret Studies

8 Years ago, Beckett and Oriana Harrington graduated Penderghast College. A year after that, tragedy struck, and they haven’t seen each other since. What happens when their paths cross once more? Is it coincidence? Or is it their souls trying to find their way home?

Oriana’s POV

Oriana woke up early, 4am, slipping out of bed and grabbing some clothes. Everett was still snoring on the floor, and she didn’t want to be here when he woke up. She stopped at a bakery near her flat, picking up some fresh donuts, fruits, and coffee. She was at Beckett’s penthouse by 5 and brought the bags to the kitchen area. There weren’t any lights on and there was no movement in the house, so she knew Beckett must still be asleep. Tiptoeing back out to the living space, she saw Zephyr sleeping on the couch she’d picked out and had delivered the previous day.

She grabbed herself a coffee and some fruit before heading into the office space. Flipping on the light, she sat down in her new chair, pulling out her necklace from under her shirt and taking it off, staring at it. She didn’t quite know what to do with it. If she wore it back home, Everett would certainly see it at some point, and she couldn’t have that. She watched the metallic wildflowers sway before she heard a door open. She quickly shoved it in her desk drawer. It would do for now.

“Why are you here so early?” Beckett’s cold voice startled her. “What have you been doing? I didn’t ask you to come in this early, you’re not getting paid any extra for it.”

“I, um…” Her voice failed her as she took in his appearance. His blondish brown hair was all mussed up from sleep, he wore light blue pajama pants that were hanging dangerously low on his hips, and he had no shirt on. She couldn’t take her eyes off his ripped abs. He always had nice abs, but holy cow, this was doing something to her already.

“Um?” He demanded. “Didn’t think this would be an issue, but I guess I’ll tell the desk not to let you in unless I say so.”

“You gave me a key.” She finally looked into his eyes. His beautiful, silver eyes, which were currently lasered in on her.

He smirked, sauntering into the room and closing the door before going behind the desk. He turned her chair to face him, and she inhaled sharply. God, he smells as good as his body looks…absolutely delicious. Placing his hands on the armrests, he leaned in, murmuring in her ear. “See something you like?”

She took a shaky breath. “Yes, actually, I think the furniture I picked out is quite nice.”

“About that…” He drew his head back, eyes focused on her lips. “I said shop for the office, not shop to decorate my entire penthouse.”

“It needed color.” She told him defiantly.

“I could have provided that for myself.”

“But you didn’t.”

“You don’t live here, Oriana.” He growled. “I want you to return everything except what’s in this room.”

“You’ll thank me someday.” She breathed.

“Why on earth would I do that?”

Oriana bit her lower lip. She was ready to head into new territory, and can only hope it doesn’t blow up in her face. “Because you love me.”

Beckett blinked, clearly taken aback by that sentence. He stood up tall, his abdomen in line with her eyes now. She couldn’t stop herself from ogling again. “I love who you used to be.” He said tightly, backing away.

“I’m still that person.”

“You’re still engaged to that dick you call wonderful. It’s masochistic, and I don’t approve.”

“Approve?” She laughed shortly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I needed your approval for anything.”

Beckett scoffed. “You know what? I don’t need you today. Go home, Ori.” He whirled around, reopening the door and leaving the room.

“Wait.” She dashed after him, cornering him in the hall. “You and Zeph didn’t give me much of a chance to talk yesterday.”

Beckett shrugged, looking away. “Actually, you seem to talk way too much. Go home to your lover.” He finished with a bitterness in his tone.

Oriana’s eyes narrowed. “Yesterday you were kissing me, wanting me, desperately craving me…and a few hours later you’re practically shoving me out the door. What the hell is your problem? You’re always telling me I have to come in early. I’m only doing what you’re constantly telling me to do.”

“My problem is you.” Beckett glared. “And I told you, I don’t need you today. I’m taking Zeph sight-seeing.”

“You don’t want me to answer phones calls or emails or…”

“Frankly, Oriana, I don’t want you here at all right now.”

She felt like the wind was knocked out of her. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to go home; she hates it there. Everett suffocates her.

“Maybe she wants to come.” Zeph appeared, yawning. “Can the two of you shut up until I get my coffee? I can’t deal with you until then.”

Beckett snickered and Oriana shot him a Look. She was originally really happy that Beckett still had Zeph. But right now, it was pissing her off, because Zeph clearly would only take Beckett’s side in everything.

“She can’t come. She’s got a busy day returning all this crap she bought yesterday.” Beckett smirked. “Although I stand by my statement. You can just go home and deal with it tomorrow.”

“You ordered food already? How long have you been up?” Zeph asked, grabbing a donut.

“Actually, I brought it.” Oriana huffed. “Thought I would do something nice, but silly me, thinking I’d be appreciated.”

“You mean Everett doesn’t appreciate you, enough? Seems like he does, the way he can’t take his hands off you.”

“Fuck you, Beckett.” She spat. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“I don’t need to know. You’re my employee; I only need to know that you can follow directions. Like leaving, for example.” Beckett snarled, stepping into her space.

A loud groan came from Zephyr, his head falling back in exasperation. “Seriously, you guys? If I leave, can you just have sex already? The tension here is killing me, and it’s way too early for me to see you both attempt not to rip each other’s clothes off. And I’m kind of afraid you’re going to do it front of me anyway.”

“It’s not my fault that Oriana’s been drooling over my muscles all morning.” Beckett shrugged. “I take care of myself, this is my house, and I don’t feel the need to cover up.

She couldn’t believe the audacity this man had. He was pretty much the same guy she met as a freshman in college, except now he had more power; more money; his ego was even more inflated. Well, since Beckett needs to be knocked down a few pegs again, she really only had one decision to make.

“Ya know what?” She glanced at Zephyr. “Sightseeing sounds fun. Count me in.”

Beckett’s POV

Beckett grumbled as they made their way to Hampstead Heath. He’d attempted to bring Zeph to one of London’s plethora of museums, but he was vetoed immediately.

“I’m not here to stay inside.” Zeph told him. “There’s plenty other places, BookBeck, a museum isn’t the most fun.”

“Depends on the person. Personally, I find the National Gallery quite enticing.”

“Of course, you do.” Oriana giggled. “Some things certainly don’t change.”

“Are you mocking me?” Beckett asked incredulously.

She put her hands up in defeat. “Not at all. I’m just saying hello to the Beckett I know.”

“Ha ha ha.” Beckett rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard Hampstead Heath is also nice, but there isn’t anything to do or see.”

“Actually, it has great views.” Oriana mused.

“Oriana, how long have you lived here?” Zeph asked.

“Um…I’m not completely sure…” She trailed off, averting her gaze.

“So, a long time.” Zeph supplied. “And, Beckett, how often were you here before you were forced to come?”

“Once or twice.” Beckett mumbled. He’d tried to come more, but Katrina would always tell him she was too busy. One time, he decided to surprise her, but when he arrived his sister was already trashed, and it ended up being quite unpleasant for them both.

“Wow, this is huge!” Zeph gasped, turning his attention back to the park they were entering. “It’s like London’s version of Central Park!”

“Way better though.” Oriana told him. “There are tons of places to get lost here.”

“Should we do it?” Zeph asked excitedly.

“Do what?” Beckett asked skeptically.

“Get lost! It’ll be an adventure!”

Oriana laughed and Beckett tried really hard to not let it affect him, but after they left his penthouse, her mood seemed to lift…she seemed different today. She was looser, more laid-back, more easy-going…the way she used to be. He couldn’t figure out what her game was. He also couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was breathtaking, even wearing a simple pair of jeans and a v-neck green tee.

“There’s one place in particular I want I bring you first…it’s a bit of a popular area, so there will probably be lots of people, but trust me, it’s worth it.” Oriana grinned.

She began leading them, and Zephyr shrugged at Beckett, following her.

“So, Zeph, I’m really sorry about yesterday.” She started.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” He replied shortly, and Beckett couldn’t help the chuckle that came out of his mouth. It felt amazing to have someone like Zeph on his side. Oriana’s missing out.

The whole thing seemed surreal. He and Oriana used to spend every minute together, but after not seeing her for so long, it felt a bit odd. And not in a bad way. But odd in a ‘I can’t believe how natural this still is’ kind of way. He’d lost everything, but somehow, after all these years, he was strolling through a large park with his best friend and the woman he loves more than anything else in the world, like it was the most common thing for him to be doing.

“Okay. Wow. I admit this is pretty cool.”

Beckett snapped back to attention, seeing they’d come to a stop on a large hill, looking down on a perfect view of the city. Oriana was beaming.

“I come here when I don’t want to feel alone. There’s lots of people, yet it’s still your own experience. And looking down at all that life…it makes me remember that I’m not actually done with mine. There are lots of people just like me, and I take comfort in that.”

“Not just like you.” Beckett muttered under his breath.

“Why do you find yourself feeling alone?” Zeph asked.

“I think everyone does, at one point or another.” She responded.

“What’s next?” Beckett piped in. He didn’t want to get into a conversation about being alone. He’s by himself far too often and wasn’t proud of it.

“The viaduct.” Oriana stated immediately. “You’re going to love it. Both of you.”

After another trek, the three friends approached a large pond, with a brick structure jutting out of the water. “The viaduct was supposed to be an entrance to an estate, but the estate was never built.” She explained.

“What a shame, it would be great space to own a home.” Beckett murmured to himself.

“Yes, well, the majority of the population disagreed.” Oriana countered. “And if it had been built, we wouldn’t be here today.”

Beckett furrowed his eyebrows, taking in her appearance. She seemed contemplated; lost in thought. He wanted to get inside her pretty head and see what she’s thinking. The three of them talked a bit more, though it felt a bit forced at times. Zeph filled Oriana in on everything he’s been up to since they last saw each other, and she was hanging onto every word of it. For the next hour or so, the small group continued walking aimlessly around, until coming to another pond, this one with a small dock leading out into the water. There were a few people swimming, and Zeph stopped short, eyes wide.

“Oh. My. God. I have always wanted to do this.”

“Do what….?” Beckett began to ask, but Zeph had already shoved his phone into his hands and taken off down the bank and onto the dock. He stared in horror as Zeph jumped off the end and into the water.

When he emerged, he pumped his fist into the air. “Woooooooo!”

“And now we have to get him out. What do you…” He trailed off again at the look of excitement in Oriana’s eyes.

“That looks like fun!” She grabbed Beckett’s hand. “We should do it!”

It took him a moment to compose himself from the strike of lightning that flew when their hands joined. “Ori, please, I’m not jumping into some pond I’ve never been to. I need to take samples and get them analyzed first, to make sure it’s safe.”

“There’s other people in the water. It’s a mixed swimming pond.”

“And maybe they’ll catch diphtheria.” He shrugged.

“You really forgot.” She spoke softly, dropping his hand.

“Forgot what?”

“How to be spontaneous.”

Before he could reply again, Oriana gave him her phone, and took off just like Zeph, leaping into the water, leaving him gaping behind her.

“Come on, Beckett!” Zeph laughed. “It feels great!”

Grumbling, Beckett walked down the dock. “You’re going to spend the rest of the day in wet clothes?”

“Well, you might have an easier time getting Oriana’s clothes off than you would mine.”

Beckett’s jaw dropped as he turned a deep crimson. “T-that’s preposterous, I wouldn’t…I mean, I couldn’t…”

“Why don’t you jump in and find out?” Oriana teased.

Suddenly feeling extremely hot, Beckett warred with himself. Something was most definitely different today. Did him knocking out Everett somehow loosen her up? Or maybe Zeph’s outburst did. Either way, as Zeph and Oriana raced around splashing each other and laughing, he set the phones down and began unbuttoning his shirt. He’d chosen a white button-down shirt with khakis today. He figured he wanted to look nice in case he ran into anyone important, but wanted to be comfortable bringing Zeph around the city.

Swallowing hard, he let his shirt flutter onto the wood. He was shaking in anticipation. He hasn’t done anything like this…well, since he was living with Oriana. He’d be stupid to let this opportunity go by. He felt Oriana’s eyes on him as he pushed his pants off next.

“Uh, it’s deep enough to jump in, right? I’m not going to land on some rocks?” He asked nervously, staring into the murky water.

“That’s all part of living dangerously, my friend! But the fact that Oriana and I didn’t scream in pain is probably a good indicator of what’s to come.” Zeph winked, nodding his head towards Oriana, who wasn’t saying anything…but her hazel eyes were still roving over his muscular body shamelessly.

Beckett dipped one toe into the water, willing himself to just jump. He met Oriana’s gaze as she cocked her head to the side.

“He’s going to wimp out. I’m heading over there; they’re playing some sort of game.” Zeph started swimming away as Oriana swam closer.

“What’s the matter, Beck? You sunburned already?”

“What?” He gasped, looking down at himself quickly. “I look perfectly normal, why…” He trailed off as she laughed.

“You might have forgot how to have fun, but I gotta say…making you blush is still so easy.”

Oh. Now he gets it. Narrowing his eyes, he glared at her. “I’m heading home. You two can come whenever.”

He reached down to collect his clothing, but suddenly Oriana was wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down into the water with a splash.

When he came back up to the surface, he was sputtering in shock at what just happened. “What the heck, Ori? I could have hit my head!”

“On what? Water?” She asked incredulously.

“You’re going to get it.” He growled and she shrieked, turning around and swimming further away from the dock, Beckett right on her heels. Finally, he caught her foot, forcing her to stop swimming and pulled her towards him, his arms holding her tightly, her lips just a breath away. She was still giggling, and it was so contagious; his grin must have been a mile wide. He felt like he’s been living someone else’s life and was finally coming back home after far too long. He forgot how lonely he’s been without her.

His eyes fell to her luscious lips, his heart pounding. God, he’s missed her. He’s missed everything about her; her smile, her warmth, her laugh…even her tears. She was his home, there was no question of that. He crushed her body into his and crashed their lips together. One of her arms snaked around his neck, while the other travelled to his ass, grinding their hips together.

“B…Beck…” She whimpered, and he groaned, feeling himself harden in an instant, all rational thought flying out the window. He needs her, needs to feel her, right here, and right now.

He unbuttoned her jeans and she gasped as his hand slipped in and beneath the waistband of her panties. She was trembling, forehead resting on his, no longer kissing him, but lost in his eyes, still clutching him for dear life. Before he dared to go further on his own, her fingernails dug into his back intensely; her breathing became erratic…and he knew exactly what that meant. It was one of her tells.

“Yesss…” Her voice was quiet and breathy as his fingers lightly reached her center, stroking once along her folds.

But they sprang apart when a loud whistle came from the shore, the lifeguard yelling something to another swimmer. And then Zeph reappeared.

“Isn’t this so much fun? I think I should move here, too. How kick-ass would that be? You’ll give me a job, right Bucket?”

“Uh…yeah, sure…” Beckett said sheepishly, feeling scrutinized under his gaze, his cheeks dusted pink.

“Did…I…did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Both he and Oriana cried in unison.

Zeph stared at them and Oriana shifted even further away. “Um, there’s a pub nearby, we could…”

“Your clothes are soaked.” Beckett reminded.

“Oh, right…my…clothes…that are still on…because they weren’t taken off.”

He rose an eyebrow. “I did try to warn you about that.”

“I definitely interrupted something.” Zeph was still staring.

“You interrupted nothing.” Beckett muttered, turning around and heading back to the dock. Pulling himself out of the water, he grabbed their belongings and walked off into the grass. He couldn’t believe that just happened. They were having so much fun; it was just like old times. And then making out and fondling her in a public area, like they were the only two people there…his eyes darted to where she and Zeph were getting out of the water, chatting amicably.

How can she act like nothing happened right now? How can she act like he wasn’t touching her intimately? God, why did he do that? She’s an engaged woman. Her heart belongs to someone else. According to her, anyway, even though it was completely obvious she didn’t want Everett at all. She was shivering when she approached.

“Cold?” He asked, avoiding her gaze.

“Just a bit.” She replied shakily. I think I’d like dry clothes now.”

Beckett nodded. “We can take you home first.”

“No, that’s okay, I have a few outfits in your penthouse.” Her eyes widened, like she didn’t mean to say that.

“Why do you have clothes in his penthouse?” Zeph mused.

“Well, Beck said we’d have some late nights, so I just wanted to make sure I had something clean there. To, you know, stay presentable.”

“Where are they?” Beckett asked. This was news to him. It’s not like she’s been there a ton so far.

Oriana shrugged. “They would have been delivered yesterday, so, probably in one of the unopened boxes.

“That’s verrry interesting. Hear that Beckett? She decided to keep a change of clothes at your house. You didn’t know?” Zeph asked slyly.

He shook his head. He hadn’t had a clue she had clothes there. He wondered what else he’d end up finding in his penthouse that he hadn’t discovered yet.

“Well, Oriana, you apparently still have the best clothes, so I’m excited to see the little numbers you keep at Beckett’s. You know, maybe this home office was a really good decision. I admit I had my doubts but…sounds like a pretty sweet deal. Do you stay over often, Oriana? I wasn’t offered a second bed…”

Beckett felt the tips of his ears burning.

Oriana started coughing as though she’d swallowed wrong, and you couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off Zeph’s face if you tried.

“Yup. I definitely interrupted something.”

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hotforharrington · 5 years

Text

Strangely Complicated (Pt. 2)

Setting: S1•E6 [The Monster]

Warnings: light swearing

Notes: Another fairly short part, but I am loving writing this so far! Hope you guys enjoy!

[Part 1]

—

“Do you need to call or leave a note for your parents or something?” Steve asked me before we left.

I just laughed and said, “No. My dad’s gone to Boston for work for like three weeks.”

“Well what about your mom?”

I had never exactly figured out how to explain to people about my mom without making it a big deal. I stayed silent while I thought about it and I think he took the hint.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just go.” I said to him before grabbing my jacket.

Steve threw open the front door and we exited my house. We silently walked down the street for awhile, before getting into Steve’s car. I sat in the passenger seat and he started the car.

Just a second after the engine turned over, he let out a soft, “Shit.”

“What?” I asked.

“I’m supposed to hang out with Tommy and Carol tonight. Would it be okay if we picked them up?”

I strongly disliked Steve, but that was nothing compared to the simple, utter loathing I felt for Tommy and Carol. But at this point, I felt as though I’d rather spend my evening with people I despised than end up alone at my forlorn homestead.

“That’s fine.” I said.

The sun began to set when Tommy and Carol piled into the back of Steve’s car.

“Who do we have here?!” Tommy exclaimed at the sight of me, “Not who I expected to see in the passenger seat of your car, Harrington!”

“Shut the hell up Tommy, we’re only hanging out because we have a common goal.” Steve said to him.

I stayed silent, not wanting to push my luck with the assholes.

“I just don’t understand why we’re coming out here, she obviously doesn’t wanna talk to you.” Carol squeaked from the backseat.

“That’s... that’s not it.” Steve replied.

“Oh really? Because no girl would ever blow off King Steve!”

“She was acting weird. I mean, something was wrong. And then I ran into (Y/N) and she said Nancy seemed weird at the funeral, too...”

I guess he’s trying to leave out Jonathan’s involvement... I thought to myself.

“So what? Like, you’re worried about her?”

“What?”

“Aw, you are!” Carol reached for him from the back, “Aw, Steve has a heart!”

“Would you just stop?”

“Oh, Stevie’s in love!” Tommy chimed in.

“Would you just shut up?” I could tell he was beginning to get annoyed, but the dumbasses persisted.

“Who knew?”

“SHUT UP!” Steve yelled at them.

“Geez.”

“Damn. Sorry.”

The whole car was silent as Steve pulled up to the Wheeler’s residence.

“So this is it huh? Princess’s castle.” Tommy said.

“I’ll just be a minute.” Steve said as he got out of the car.

I wasn’t about to be stuck in the car with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, so I popped out and followed behind him.

“What are you doing?” He asked me.

“I need a break from those assholes. I don’t know how you deal with them on a daily basis.”

“Sometimes I don’t either.” Steve said with a chuckle before climbing up towards Nancy’s bedroom window.

I looked up at the boy on the roof and saw him peek into her window, and he immediately deflated.

“What’s going on?” I loudly whispered up to him.

“Well, he’s in there.” He responded to me.

I couldn’t believe the words he said to me, “No way.” I said in shock.

“See for yourself.” He extended his hand to me and I took it. He helped pull me up onto the roof, and I sloppily made it up next to him. Our hands were still connected, and we locked eyes for only a second, before awkwardly letting go.

I peered into the window and saw with my own eyes that what Steve had said was true. Jonathan was wrapping a blanket around Nancy’s shoulders. My mouth gaped open and I looked back at Steve. He looked extremely disheartened.

I felt extremely bad for him. I may have been upset due to the fact that my best friend was sneaking around with this girl, acting as though I didn’t exist, but at least I wasn’t dealing with betrayal from a romantic relationship.

Steve climbed down from Nancy’s window and then helped guide me down. He was very silent.

“I’m sorry, Harrington.” I said to him as we walked back for his car.

“It’s not your fault. And for the record, I’m sorry, too.”

“What are you sorry for?” I questioned.

“You can act like you’re fine all you want (Y/N), but I know this hurt you, too.”

I was shocked that he had been able to read me like a book. I was always good at hiding my true feelings from people, but he cracked my code within a few hours.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Harrington. Well, I think I’m gonna walk home now...”

“You sure you’re gonna be okay being alone?” He asked me.

“I’ll manage...”

“Let me take those two dipshits home and I’ll come back to check on you, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that.” I replied.

“I know I don’t. But I don’t really want to be alone right now either to be honest.”

I nodded at him before making my short walk home, in the crisp and cool night air.

It was only about an hour later when there was a knock on my door. I had a bowl of popcorn in hand and had just sat down to watch The Shining. As soon as I heard the knock, I popped up and went to answer the door.

When I saw Steve standing on the front porch of my house I couldn’t help but think, I am so pathetic that I have resulted to hanging out with King Steve. This has been the weirdest day ever. I laughed out loud from my inner thoughts.

“Surprised to see me?” He asked.

“Yeah, I kinda am.” I responded.

“I am a lot of different things, (Y/N), but a liar is not one of them.”

I smiled at him and invited him inside.

That night was interesting to say the least. I pulled out a nearly full bottle of vodka and we both took a couple shots to ease the tension we had gained throughout the day. We sat opposite of each other on my couch and had long, notable conversations. A lot of laughter was shared and a lot of popcorn was consumed. I honestly couldn’t believe that I was building a friendship with Steve Harrington, someone I considered an enemy of mine only mere hours ago.

We were throwing pieces of popcorn and trying to catch them in our mouths when I happened to glance at the clock and see what time it was.

“Geez, it’s already 2 in the morning.” I said to the boy across from me, “I should probably get some rest. You can sleep on the couch if you want.” I suggested to him.

He nodded in response and I got a pillow and some blankets for the boy. I turned around to go get ready for bed when Steve spoke up and said, “Ya know, you’re not so bad, (Y/N).”

“Back at ya, Harrington.” I smiled at the boy that was perched on my couch and told him goodnight.

After filling the vodka bottle with water so my father wouldn’t notice, I trekked to my bedroom and went to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next morning, I was pulled out of my slumber by Steve shaking me awake. I groaned before saying, “What do you want, Harrington?”

“C’mon, I forgot to tell you we’re meeting up with Tommy, Carol, and Nicole. We have plans today, to get back at Nancy and Jonathan.”

I didn’t have a good feeling about this, and even more so when I saw that Tommy’s plans including the cans of red spray paint he brought with him. But I went along with it anyways, seeing that my only friend had ditched me for someone else.

The five of us stood in the alley by the movie theater and Tommy sprayed the words ‘Byers is a perv’ on the wall. This whole thing made me uneasy and I felt very out of my element. Steve could see that and in a soft whisper he said to me, “Just chill. It’s no big deal. And they deserve it for screwing us over, right?”

Reluctantly, I nodded my head.

I peeked over Steve’s shoulder and saw Nancy darting towards us.

“Aw, hey there princess!” Carol spoke up and said.

“Uh oh, she looks upset.”

Nancy reaches up her hand and smacked Steve straight across the face.

“Oh!” The others rang out.

“What is wrong with you?” The brunette said.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I was worried about you. I can’t believe that I was worried about you.” A defeated Steve said.

“What are you talking about?”

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you. You don’t want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?” Carol said.

“Speak of the devil.” Tommy added when he saw Jonathan coming up close behind.

Jonathan scanned the scene and a major look of confusion and betrayal spread across his face when he saw me. I avoided eye contact with him.

“You came by last night.” Nancy realized.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Nicole yelped.

“Does she get a prize?” Carol asked sarcastically.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that.”

“What, you just let him into your room to... study?” Steve replied.

“Or for another pervy photo session?” Tommy added.

“We were just-“ Nancy began before Steve cut her off.

“You were just what? Finish that sentence.”

Nancy stood there in silence.

“Finish the sentence.” Steve said again with more audacity than before. When Nancy still couldn’t give him an answer he said, “Go to hell, Nancy.”

“Come on, Nancy, let’s just leave.” Jonathan said to her.

“You know what Byers? I’m actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer but I guess you’re just a screw up like your father.”

“Harrington, don’t.” I spoke up for the first time during the interaction with the two. I grabbed his arm to pull him back but he shook my hand off of him.

I may have been upset with Jonathan, but I wasn’t going to let Steve degrade him. However the words I said did absolutely nothing, and he continued on as if he didn’t hear me.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. That house is full of screw ups. You know, I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. A bunch of screw ups in your family.”

“Harrington, that’s enough!” I said louder. But Steve had his mind set, and no matter what I said, he continued.

“Jonathan, leave it.” Nancy said when she saw that Steve was getting to him.

“I mean your mom, I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother. I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family is a disgrace to the entire-“

Jonathan whipped around and socked him right in the face. The intensity of the fight steadily increased, each boy trying to get the upper hand, and all of us spectators yelled out things to try to get them to stop. None of it worked, and the cops showed up.

Nicole, Carol, and I began to sprint away from the alley, and as I looked over my shoulder, I could see Jonathan pummeling Steve’s face in.

I couldn’t help but be a bit proud of my friend in that moment. Steve crossed a line and deserved every injury Jonathan inflicted upon him.

—

[Part3]

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