#they’re awful people (affectionate) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 2 months

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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago.

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch.

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you.

“I wanna see Max.”

“She has to be here somewhere.”

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest.

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

Steve frowns at you worriedly.

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers.

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips.

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes.

“Is it awful?” you ask.

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult.

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask.

“Dustin. He’s outside.”

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.”

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes.

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?”

“Like you like him.”

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?”

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?”

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings.

“Looks like something. Are you dating?”

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.”

“He was touching you a lot.”

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely.

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh.

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s—

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder.

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug.

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly.

Oh, boy, you think.

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy.

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet.

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.”

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.”

“Steve.”

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.”

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty.

“What?” he asks.

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.”

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.”

“I sounded weird?”

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.”

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it.

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do.

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.”

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice.

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.”

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something.

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie?

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged.

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews.

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way.

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused.

“You were in the way of the light.”

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself.

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?”

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks.

“It’s good.”

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.”

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you.

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise!

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this.

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing.

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs.

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek.

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen.

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say.

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.”

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.”

“I thought…” And of course he did.

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.”

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes.

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious.

“Yeah.”

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.”

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.”

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.”

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks.

“I like you too!” he says loudly.

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?”

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again.

“You okay?” he asks tightly.

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?”

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.”

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?”

You nod vehemently.

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm.

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.”

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you.

“You can be my parasol.”

“Your what?”

“It’s a sun umbrella.”

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up.

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.”

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay.

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur.

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?”

“That’s perfect.”

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly.

“No… I’m thinking.”

“Nothing good ever comes of that.”

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight.

“It’s a question.”

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world.

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.”

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.”

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.”

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start.

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem.

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur.

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it.

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke.

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble

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goingmerryfics · 29 days

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Sitting in their lap while they’re not paying attention - w/ Law, Luffy, & Kid

Content: Gender neutral reader

Notes* Thinking about doing a NSFW part of this.. perhaps..

Part 1 2 3 4

Law

Sure, he’s not paying attention at the moment. But years of dealing with Penguin and Shachi’s antics have made him hyper aware to anyone’s bullshittery

Usually, as soon as anyone would start to inch towards him, he’d look up from whatever he was doing and warn the person to knock off whatever they were planning and pay attention

But this time, the combination of being exhausted from more lack of sleep than usual and being so passionate about the subject matter he was trying to relay to you, you managed to pull it off

Slowly, you inched towards him as he rambled on, lowered yourself into his lap, and he didn’t even flinch. All he did was move the research paper he was reading off of so he could still see it

You were seated comfortably, sideways across his lap, one arm around his shoulders to keep you steady. Success.

His free hand rests on your back as he continues. He doesn’t notice for a few seconds more, until he glances towards you for a moment

He freezes. His words cut off, and he starts to quickly go red

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You don’t see him complaining, though

He demands for you to get off of him and quite messing around, but he won’t make a move to push you off. Nor do you feel his hand move off of your back

You tell him to go on, that you’re still listening

He’s too tired to fight with you and, truthfully, he wants to call you on your bluff

So he continues to explain his medical research to you, stopping every now and then to quiz you and ask you something about what he’d just read, or about your own theories

It’s actually a very insightful conversation, and he’s kind of pissed about it

Why do you focus better when you’re being a menace?

Once he’s through though, he does start to gently shove you off

“Alright, get out. I have things to do.”

As soon as you’re gone he leans back and lets out a hefty sigh

You’ll kill him with your antics one day

Luffy

Don’t try it during a meal. Yeah, it’s one of the only times this ball of energy is seated and not bouncing around, but he will shove you away and continue stuffing his face

Best time to try this is when he’s settling down for the day, about to head off to bed

Especially because he’s even more cuddly than usual when he’s ready to sleep

He’ll be hanging out in the boy’s cabin when you enter, they’re all chatting and laughing about something from the last island they stopped at, and the only person that really pays attention when you head straight for Luffy’s lap is Zoro, because nothing gets past him

Sanji doesn’t notice until you’re already in his lap, and he cooes at you to come sit in his lap instead

“What? No! They chose me! Get your own person!”

Luffy’s arms extend and wrap around you a couple times, effectively trapping you there with him, no way to move your arms or anything lower than your shoulders. Not that you mind, of course

Luffy’s always been extra affectionate, whether his intention be platonically or romantically. Hugging, kissing people’s cheeks, holding hands, the works

He pulls you right up to his chest and continues the conversation, your face comfortably resting on him

You can feel the vibration of his chest when he laughs

He’s warm. It’s comforting

If you thought this was a short-term deal, you’d be wrong. He doesn’t want to let you go now that he has your comfort, and you’ll stay in his arms well into the night

At least he pulls up a blanket when he notices you starting to fall asleep

“Aw, already dozing off? But we were having so much fun!”

He doesn’t try to keep you awake, though. You fall asleep against his chest, and sleep peacefully into morning

Kid

There are only two ways you’re going to be able to do this

Either he is truly distracted, or you think he’s distracted and he notices, but he’s just amused to watch you do it

In the first scenario, he would be at his workstation, fixing up his arm. Making some adjustments after noticing that it’s getting a bit loose in places

As long as everything is going the way he needs it to- fixing something is difficult with one arm -he’ll be calm enough not to completely toss you for trying to distract him

Keep talking to him and he won’t notice. He can only focus on so much

You let him know that you brought him a snack and something to drink, and he grunts in response. Good, he’s got all his attention in one spot

You put the plate and the cup down somewhere that Kid will be able to reach it but not knock it over accidentally, and quickly slide into his lap while going off about some updates on what the crew is up to in his absence

He shifts where he needs to so he can keep working without you in the way, which ends up with you facing him, gripping his shoulders to keep you steady

The minute you have nothing more to say, he very suddenly starts to shout

“The hell do ya think you’re doing, idiot!?”

Hop off and run for your life, because he tosses his whole arm your way while blushing as bright as his hair

On the other hand, if you crawl into his lap while and he notices, he won’t speak a word but he’ll watch your every move

You think you’ve gotten away with it

You ramble on and on about whatever comes to mind, but short by a pair of large hands around your waist and his breath tickling your neck

You stumble over your words, blush rising to your cheeks

“Go on, you wanted my attention, right? I’m listening.”

He makes it a tradition that you have to come sit in his lap for your daily reports. he loves seeing your flustered face as you try to remember all the information you needed to tell him, directly to his stupid, smug face

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woniverse-writes · 8 months

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"MOTH TO A FLAME (part 1)"

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

part 1 ⟶ part 1.5

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 9k (holy shit)

warnings: swearing, reader is described as cute and small a lot, Bada is kinda confusing with her feelings, also this isn't proofread so... sorry for any mistakes lol- lemme know if I missed anything!

“I think Jam Republic is finally coming out-” someone states and the excited conversations start to fill up the studio. Jam Republic walks into the fight zone for their first introduction and they're all just very happy to be there. All the girls are smiling but Audrey and y/n have the biggest smiles on their faces out of anyone. Everyone is commenting on how pretty they are and how their smiles are so precious

“Wow, Audrey is like a doll! So pretty…” Tatter is outwardly in awe of the girls, much like some of her other teammates. But their leader, even though she agreed, was trying to keep the girls’ confidence up.

“True, but we’re prettier” she replied in a motherly tone and patted the blonde girl's head, causing them all to smile and giggle. Minah notices Jam Republic approaching the area they’re seated in, and shares a mischievous look with Lusher, before adding to the conversation-

“Y/n’s like a princess though. No one’s beating that” she states matter-of-factly, anticipating her leader’s response. Bada opens her mouth to say something but right as she’s about to speak, she and y/n make eye contact. Y/n smiles even bigger than she already is, eyes twinkling, and she bows politely greeting team Bebe. Bada is lowkey rendered speechless because she’s pretty sure she just saw an angel.

“Oh- h-hello” she struggles to speak and immediately after y/n turns away, Bada is grimacing and covering her face out of embarrassment, her teammates now laughing at her distress. She tries to laugh it off and put on a smile because of all the cameras around- she just really hopes they didn’t catch that and it won’t be aired.

As Jam Republic continues to stride across the stage, past all the other crews, getting a feel for the room, they finally settle in the middle- waiting for their video to be played. Audrey and Y/n are holding hands and giggling excitedly, while the rest of their team shares similar smiles and affectionate chuckles towards their youngest members.

Then the review video plays…

“I think they all want to be the main character- how are they ever gonna work together?” Y/n can’t help but huff out a laugh of disbelief, but she’s not quite angry yet. She felt a little twinge of annoyance but other than that, she thought it was kind of funny.

“I’m gonna steal the spotlight from you” Audret whispered sarcastically, bumping her shoulder, causing y/n to laugh. They were smiling and giggling again… until the others started targeting her and Audrey.

“They’re like babies- I don’t think they’ll have any real skill.” All the members are just nodding and keeping their composure, with light smiles, except for y/n. Her smile has dropped into a frown and her brows are furrowed as she tries to understand how these people could so willingly make assumptions about them. And it only kept getting worse-

As their individual dance clips started to play y/n could already feel the tension inside her start to rising. After Kirsten, Ling, Latrice, and Emma’s clips all played- Y/n’s was next. It was a somewhat recent clip of her dancing to “Basics” by TWICE, where she’s got her signature bright smile, and is bouncing around, just enjoying the choreography. She loves that choreo and has always been proud of it because it was fun, so her smile started to come back a little while watching it. She tried ignoring everyone’s words, and for the most part, it worked, but she was still able to hear-

“Isn’t this too juvenile? She doesn’t seem competitive at all.”

And if there’s one thing y/n hates- it’s people doubting her passion. She’s always been very dedicated to dance, but she also learned how to have fun and enjoy it, while still working hard to always be improving. But to be honest, it didn’t upset her too much because she never really cared what people’s opinions were on her- as long as she was happy, healthy, and kind y/n couldn’t care less what people thought. Unless it was about someone she cares about, then that’s when problems arise.

Audrey’s video played right after y/n’s and even though the older girl was keeping it together and even sporting a small smile, the same could not be said for her teammate. Y/n listened to everyone laugh and jeer at her friend, and she felt genuine violence start to bubble inside her. How dare they laugh at her? Who do they think they are? She clenched her jaw and felt any bit of respect she had for these people leave her body. Y/n was already over this shit.

“I think they’re pretty dancers, but that’s it- they’re just pretty dancers.” The other teams ‘ooh’ at this and letter other noises of enablement. By now Y/n’s face has totally dropped, and there’s no expression besides a deadly look in her eyes. While everyone else is brushing it off with some laughs, especially Audrey, y/n can't help but feel her anger fully ignite into a blazing fire. Their video came to an end and while others applauded respectfully, y/n stood there- arms crossed with her head tilted slightly, a stone-cold expression overtaking her face.

"Oh my god- y/n is the only one not smiling anymore" Akanen pointed out from Tsubakill’s side of the room. To which Rena gasped and replied “Eh?! Oh no! She looks so upset!” and the others all focused solely on her. other teams seem to be thinking similarly.

"Audrey is laughing about it like it's nothing and y/n looks like she's about to kill everyone who picked her as the worst dancer…" Mina Myoung jokes, laughing at the young girl. Some of her members laughed with her, while others just observed with cautious eyes. They didn’t want to accidentally make eye contact with Jam Republic’s seemingly small but mighty dancer.

"From everything I've seen of Y/n, I never thought I'd see her without a smile- more importantly I never thought I'd see her look that angry" Harimu gasps, gripping Redy’s shoulders, pulling herself to hide behind her slightly. Peaking over Redy’s shoulder, she listens to the older girl reply in a tone just as fearful as her own. "I didn't even think she'd be able to make such a scary face" Redy laughs but trembles a little.

"Oh my- wow, she looks so much older with that look on her face…" Funky Y openly expresses how baffled she is to her crew, with wide eyes and mouth slightly dropped open. Yoonji replies quickly in a frantic tone

"Like she's not a baby anymore, suddenly she became a Lion" she animatedly expressed with a growl after to prove her point. And her members can’t help but huff out a few laughs and roll their eyes at her antics. But still- even as they joke around, all are still weary of how y/n will act now.

All of the dancers quickly took notice of y/n’s 180 switch in vibe, and couldn’t help their conversations- some frantic, some laughing and continuing their degrading energy that got her all worked up in the first place, some fearful… and then there was Bebe.

"Woooah… what happened to cutie y/n? She's scary now-" Bada marvels at the small girl standing at the back of her team, with her arms crossed. She really was just as confused as everyone else on how y/n could go from being this darling princess with a dazzling smile and sparkly eyes- to this ice-cold girl who might start calling people out by names soon if she gets pushed any further.

Bada’s teammates look at her, and some nod, while Tatter holds back a laugh, mumbling her leader’s words to herself,

“Cutie…” Minah and Lusher hear her and start giggling, causing Tatter to start giggling as well. Bada doesn’t seem to hear them- that or she just pretends not to, cuz she sits there, unbothered, leaning her elbows on her knees, observing the scene before her with a barely-there smirk.

y/n continues to glare at the screen ahead of her and tries to contain her rage. Latrice puts a gentle hand on her shoulder and y/n just nods her head, poking her inner cheek with her tongue, trying her best not to say something that will definitely get her kicked off the show. Audrey sees how furious her bestie is and turns to poke her cheek playfully, of course with a smile still on her face

"heyyyy, don't stress. It's okay!" she puts an arm around the younger girl's shoulders and continues

"Plus this is just another great opportunity to show everyone what we've got!" and of course, Audrey, ever the optimist, successfully calms her down. y/n sighs and leans into the taller girl.

"I know, I just hate how almost all of them think we suck just cuz we're young."

"well they also think we suck cuz we're pretty" And Basically everyone watching is like- "Aw they're still cuties, even though y/n can be scary".

Bada can't help but laugh at them, specifically y/n

"She's pouting now. Cute." She chuckles softly with a small smile on her face, as she sits, elbows resting on her knees, with her hands clasped. Lusher can't help but side-eye her leader and chuckle as well but for a different reason

"Bada, you seem a little too interested in her" She snaps out of whatever daze she was in, sitting straight up and looking over at Lusher for a second, before turning to look back at the front where Jam Republic is now exiting

"I'm interested in a lot of people here." she explains cooly, surveying the room

"Not true-" Tatter leans over from the other side of Bada to look her right in the eyes "We can all tell you haven't found a single person here interesting, until her- or at least her team."

____________

"She looks kind of scary now…" Yoonji whispers to her teammates looking at y/n. Redlic looks in the direction Yoonji is looking at and laughs a little.

"What're you talking about? y/n? She looks like a kitten trying to be a lion." Now the rest of ManneQueen is staring at Jam Republic, specifically y/n l/n. And sure enough, instead of her usual bright and smiling self, her eyes were back to being fiery and to put it bluntly, she looks pissed the fuck off again. Waackxxy was the one to turn to Redlic and go-

“No, she’s definitely got something fierce going on right now… I hope she has a lot of battle cuz I’m kind of interested in her now…” causing the rest of her team to laugh and agree. On the other side, Jam Republic is having their own discussion regarding y/n.

“I think you should just wait and see- maybe no one will even pick you as a “no respect” dancer!” Ling tried cheering up her younger teammate.

“No I want someone to battle me- I want everyone who voted for me and Audrey to come and try us” y/n fired back with her arms crossed as she leaned back into her chair. She really did look intimidating, especially with her makeup and hair done. Audrey on the other hand was not feeling the same fire-

“Uhm, maybe we don’t need everyone to want to battle us…maybe just a few.” Audrey started to reason,

”Cuz I don’t know if you remember, but there were a LOT of people that voted for us as the worst dancers…” which caused Kirsten and Ling to sigh, and y/n to roll her eyes and clench her jaw.

“Audrey, my love, I’m very well aware of how many people think we suck-“

“You don’t suck-”

“Thank you Emma, but please give me a second”

“Y/n take a deep breath and check your well-being”

She sighed at their team leader’s advice, knowing it was to help her out and so that she didn’t get too fired up with her teammates. It’s not that y/n doesn’t get along with them- it’s the furthest thing from that, she adores her teammates- but she gets very passionate about everything, and she’s a bit of a hothead. On top of all that, y/n is very protective of those she cares about, some of those people being her dear teammates.

“I’m sorry” she mumbles a bit, but ultimately huffs out the response. To which Kirsten replies with a motherly “thank you”, causing the others to chuckle.

“I just don’t understand how they can all collectively make the assumption that we’re not as good as them- for what? Why? Because we’re foreigners? Because we smile a lot? Because we’re pretty? To me THAT just sounds like jealousy” y/n continues to rant, frantically moving her hands and arms about, expressing her frustration- and her team just listens patiently for her to finish. Once she finally lets out her final huff and relaxes back into her chair with her arms crossed again, and a pout now sporting her face, her teammates can’t help but smile gently at their youngest member- some even trying to hide giggles and chuckles of endearment.

“Y/n, sweetheart, you’ve gotta remember- not everyone thinks like you- I wish they did, but they just don’t” Kirsten starts to comfort her, and places a hand on her head, trying her best to calm down the passionate young girl.

Kirsten always felt like asking y/n to join her team was one of the best choices she made in regards to being a leader. She knew the younger girl had experience in kpop dance styles, having performed at multiple k-con stages and doing countless covers from other groups, even choreographing her own routines to kpop songs for fun and still getting the attention of the original artist. Kirsten also saw an unlimited amount of potential in y/n and saw how quickly and easily she absorbed everything around her. The only thing she was worried about was how young she was. it wasn’t a huge concern to her since their whole team was pretty young, but when it came down to it, Kirsten ended up adding Audrey in as well, and the two hit it off right away! To be completely honest- Kirsten felt as if the three youngest members were her babies. Audrey being the sweet angel of a golden child, Emma being the responsible oldest, and y/n being the chaotic troublemaker who’s always trying to pick a fight with someone for hurting her sisters.

“You just need to remember that we’re here to dance, have fun, and gain a new experience… alright?” Kirsten has successfully reduced her gremlin child to a less angry (but still very pouty) version of herself.

“…alright” y/n mumbled.

“Thank you. Now please stop pouting, you look like a kicked puppy and the others will probably start picking on you soon” Kirsten teased lightly, which caused Audrey to join in and start poking y/n’s cheek, leading to Emma tugging gently on her hair, and Ling poking her other cheek, all while Latrice coos at her and pats her head. This all of course causes her to start whining and complaining playfully at her members teasing.

But the endearment for each other doesn’t end outside of the members' little cluster. the love for Jam Republic, and specifically y/n, has now spread to the entire studio. as everyone originally took notice of the youngest member’s slight temper tantrum, most didn’t really know what she was ranting about, but they could tell she was once again not happy at all. The two teams sitting nearest to Jam Republic happened to be Bebe and 1Million, who originally both had members that intended to battle y/n, but after hearing her rant, some opinions changed.

“I like her style! She’s very passionate” Harimu laughed as she explained her newfound interest in Jam Republic’s youngest.

“That’s what I was thinking- I don’t even wanna battle her anymore, especially after how scary she looked before- I just wanna watch her tear up the stage with all her energy” Redy chimed in.

“Do you think we should go up to her during break and try to become friends?” They begin to laugh and joke around about their shared interest in y/n. But their team’s older members aren’t quite on the same level of endearment.

“Ya- you two should be trying to take her down before befriending her, don’t you think?” Lia warns the two girls, who just look at each other and start giggling.

“I don’t know if I’d necessarily wanna go up against someone with her temper” Redy starts off jokingly, but Harimu is already coming back in a teasing mood-

“Yeah cuz you’d probably cry.” Which has Redy letting a gasp- her jaw dropped to the floor, eyes wide with shock and (false) betrayal.

The other team seated next to Jam Republic isn’t as chipper as 1 Million though, as their leader is trying to convince her team to stick with their guts.

“You wanted to battle her at first for a reason- why would that reason change if you still haven’t seen her dance?” Bada asks Kyma, Sowoen, and Minah. They all voted y/n as the worst dancer because her style was too “pretty” and they thought she relied on having cute expressions. Bada didn’t entirely agree with her teammates, but everyone is entitled to their own opinion. She even originally stated how she thought y/n’s style was refreshing and youthful, but she was worried about how she’d be with darker concepts.

“Well- I mean- she seems kinda crazy…” Cheche halfheartedly joked, but in reality, she was being completely serious.

“Why? Because she’s angry? She should be angry. Being voted as the worst dancer isn’t something to be happy about…” Bada replies calmly. No one really says anything, as they all are just trying to process whether or not their leader is provoking them, or if she’s defending their opponent because she thinks she’s cute.

Bada sighs and stands up to stretch. She wants her team to not only be amazing dancers, but critical thinkers too. Of course, Bada wants a win, but she also wants her team to be strong- and if going up against someone with untouchable morale and endless energy will force her teammates to be stronger, then that’s what they need to do.

She also may or may not be personally interested in seeing what y/n is made of. After all, she caught her attention originally with her bright smile and explosive personality- then again shortly after with how serious and intimidating she gets when people question her abilities. Bada thought her bold expressions and reactions to things were an endearing contrast from her cute or refreshing facials used when dancing. So now having seen y/n in stark opposition, she’s even more interested.

They all finish up introductions and meet the judges, then are sent off to get changed and prepare for the battles that are about to ensue. Jam Republic’s hideout is full of conversation from the second they enter the room.

“Well besides y/n almost setting the place on fire, I think that went well!” Ling chirps, smiling in faux satisfaction at her teammates, who let out variations of laughs.

“I can’t believe they think so lowly of us” Audrey finally expresses her disappointment, sharing a kicked puppy look with y/n, who longer feels angry, just tired. The younger of the two just leans her head on her friend's shoulder and stays quiet.

“I know, but that’s exactly why we’re gonna go out there and show every single one of them how wrong they were, right?” Kirsten encourages with her once again motherly tone and warm smile.

Bebe’s hideout conversations on the other hand are going quite a bit differently than Jam Republic’s…

“So moral of the story: I’m scared of a five-foot-nothing, angel-faced, baby who may or may not have the ability to shoot lasers out of her eyes.”

“Minah, what the fuck are you even saying right now-” Tatter sits and stares at her teammate with a concerned look. Minah and Kyma have been going back and forth since they got back about how they regret picking y/n as their no-respect dancer already, because of how quickly and drastically her personality changed when she got upset.

“I’m just saying- I feel like if I looked her in the eyes at that moment, I would've died.” Minah replies dramatically, and Kyma nods her head enthusiastically in agreeance. Bada huffs out a laugh and rolls her eyes at the two members’ antics.

“You do realize she’s still just a kid, right? You have nothing to worry about. Even if she does look scary, she’s probably all bark and no bite” Bada smirks slightly and leans back comfortably on the couch in their space.

“Weren’t you just saying how cute she was?” Lusher side-eyes her as she questions.

“Yes, and? That’s exactly my point. She’s too cute, so there’s no way she’d actually be able to go through with whatever she looked like she could've done.” Bada reasons, shrugging. Everyone just sighs and new conversations arise.

After all the teams have finished preparing, they all head back down to the main studio and take their seats again. The judges are all prepared and after a slight re-introduction by Daniel, the host, the battles are set to begin.

Bada being part of the first battle of the season was definitely necessary, and her win practically secured her spot as the best dancer involved in the program.

Everyone was hyped especially the members of Jam Republic, who were all just very happy to be there- even y/n, who had managed to calm down from her original state of rage, and now she’s back to her excited, vibrant self, of course wearing a giant smile. The girls all cheered and at some point (she doesn’t know when) y/n ended up clinging to Emma with wide eyes and jaw dropped. After Bada finished everyone obviously went crazy with an uproar of applause, but y/n could only let out a few claps, as she was still shell-shocked. Ling glanced at her teammate and started laughing

“Did you enjoy that y/n?” Y/n, still in a daze, puts the back of her hand on her cheek, then her forehead

“My face feels so hot right now”

“Oh my god y/n! You’re like- actually a tomato!!” Kirsten noticed her youngest dancer’s flustered state and couldn’t help but bring attention to it. With all her teammates' eyes on her now, they giggle as she starts whining and covering her face, collapsing into a ball on the floor. She looks up at Ling, who gently pats her head, and goes

“I don’t think I’m gonna survive this” sending all of her members into a fit of laughter over their youngest dancer’s uncontrollable admiration.

“The way she got up in Redy’s face- UGH I WOULD’VE DIED” she continues fangirling, catching the attention of a few of the other dancers- specifically from Bebe. Lusher is the first to glance sideways at y/n with wide eyes and a hidden smile- she’ll have to tell Bada about it afterward.

When it’s revealed that Bada won, y/n just about flew twelve feet in the air, that’s how high she jumped. Bada acted coolly and honestly pretty cold toward Redy, but the second she made eye contact with y/n, she smiled charmingly causing the already flustered girl to smile even brighter. She sits back down with her crew and Lusher leans over to whisper in her ear,

“I think y/n really likes you” she teases, causing Bada to roll her eyes and glare.

“Enough…” the older girl warns playfully, in tow causing Lusher to raise her hands in defense.

“Alright, fine- but just know she really enjoyed your performance.” and the conversation ended there.

During Kirsten’s battle with Waackxxy, the members of Jam Republic are once again hyped up, but this time- it’s tenfold.

Y/n is standing on top of the front row of their team’s bleachers, jumping up and down so much that at one point she nearly slips. Emma and Audrey are of course both there to keep her out of trouble (like always) and they all make eye contact before bursting out laughing

From across the room- Bada is pretty much just as invested as they are. Except she’s a little more focused on one of the members who ISN’T currently dancing. She of course paid attention to Kirsten’s battle and was genuinely blown away by her style- But Bada couldn’t help but get distracted by the small girl a little bit behind her, screaming and jumping like her life depended on it. She tried not to smile or laugh at y/n’s antics but she couldn’t help it when she almost fell off the bleachers. At first- when she watched her slip, Bada felt herself tense up, almost as if her instant reaction was to reach out and try to catch her from across the room. But once she realized y/n was alright (and that she’d have been fine had she fallen from the short height) she shook her head laughed, but more at herself for feeling so protective of this girl she hadn’t even spoken to yet.

Shortly after Kirsten’s first battle, Audrey has hers- Which means, y/n is about to be at her peak of hype woman realness. When Audrey's name is called, y/n shoots straight up and gets right to hyping her best friend up. She’s smiling and rubbing her shoulders and shaking her around a bit to show her excitement, and finally, the two do their signature handshake that they’ve done before every performance together since they became friends

Bada again watched from the opposite side, and she couldn’t help but feel extra critical while watching Audrey. There was nothing wrong with Audrey’s dancing! In fact- Bada was thoroughly impressed, (but she wishes she wasn’t). Instead of catching y/n’s reactions, this time she was totally focused on the dancers- Bada was curious as to what made y/n so defensive of Audrey, and now she understands a little better. That doesn’t ease her feelings of discomfort though, especially as the battle comes to an end and she watches y/n pounce on Audrey the second the timer runs out. What frustrated her even more was how quickly she became self-aware in that moment. Wait- why do I care so much? She was asking herself as her eyes darted to the floor.

And when she was announced the winner, Bada applauded and cheered, but again felt bitter seeing Jam’s Republic’s two youngest members be cute together. Now all Bada can focus on is why she herself is so bothered by y/n clinging to her teammate, and smiling like Audrey just won the Olympics.

“She seems like a really clingy person” Bebe members all look at Bada and then follow her line of sight to Audrey and y/n- or rather y/n sticking to Audrey and congratulating her. Lusher is the first to speak up again,

“Audrey?” she questions, peaking over at Bada in confusion, whose eyes are fixed back on y/n.

“No, y/n”

“Oh, of course”

Lusher’s response is sarcastic and causes the others to laugh lightly at the sub-leader’s attitude towards their oldest member. Bada once again has no reaction as she’s too focused on y/n smiling angelically, celebrating Jam Republic’s win.

“Omg please don’t tell me you’re already jealous” Sewoen teased and Tatter laughed hysterically. Bada raised her eyebrows and finally turned to look at the girls.

“Me? What would I be jealous of?” she pouts slightly when she talks. Even though she seems all tough, and tall, and cold- only one of those things is true. Bada is really a big softie- a baby angel trapped in a 5’9 body. Her teammates know this all too well as they halt their teasing for a moment to admire their cute leader. But that obviously doesn’t last forever.

“Bada-” Lusher tilts her head, exasperated. She stares at the older girl for a few seconds in disbelief, before letting out a huff of a laugh again. Bada’s eyes just widen as she looks around at her team- she really is confused, because while yes- she is starting to realize she may have a genuine crush on y/n, Bada thought she was doing a pretty good job at hiding it!

“What?? I’m serious- I'm not jealous of anyone” She tries to laugh it off and move on but the only reaction she gets is a few side-eyes from the other members. So she lets out a sigh and hangs her head in embarrassment.

“Let’s just leave it please” She smiles timidly, and THIS causes the other girls to laugh.

Many more battles occur before it’s finally Y/n’s chance to dance. When she’s called up to pick her no-respect dancer, y/n smiles brightly and walks to the center.

"So I actually have a lot of respect for this dancer, and I kind of selfishly chose her for the opportunity to share the stage with her and feed off her energy…" she starts, making sure to survey the whole room before eyes finally land on Bebe

"No way she's gonna pick Bada", "is y/n really about to pick Bada???", "Ya, she must be insane" excited murmurs fill the studio as everyone anticipates her pick.

Bada tries to keep her expression neutral, but she can't help how her eyes widen when she makes eye contact with the young dancer standing in front of her crew. Bada thinks y/n looks cute holding the mic with both hands, poking her tongue out and smiling nervously.

Y/n takes a deep breath and walks slowly toward the team she's been eyeing up

"For my no respect dancer, I'd like to battle Bebe's…" It feels like everyone is holding their breath. Y/n holds eye contact with Bada but breaks it with a nod

"Lusher"

Everyone goes crazy, even Lusher herself- She stands up and bows, smiling brightly, and as she starts to descend the bleachers they're sat in, she turns to Bada with wide eyes and whispers-

"I for sure thought she was gonna be calling your name…" she started seriously

"Hm… guess not yet" she teases her leader and Bada shoves her away

"Ya, go dance or something" she mumbles, already exhausted from dealing with the teasing of her members. Lusher meets Y/n halfway and actually reaches out to shake her hand, to which a nervous Y/n excitedly and politely bows and shakes her hand

"Good luck" Lusher smiles gently and y/n's eyes twinkle a little more at the kindness

"Thank you so much, you too!" and then they're separating and heading back to their sides to start the battle. Bada can't help but roll her eyes at her younger teammate, because while she's appreciative of the good sportsmanship, she knows it's really just to tease her more. Once Lusher heads back to Bebe’s side, Bada is behind her with a hand on her shoulder, talking calmly and softly.

"You know this is a cutthroat competition right? You're not supposed to be nice to your opponent- especially since she chose you as her "no respect" dancer-" Bada begins firmly

"Bada, did you listen to a word she said before? Or did you block it all out after you realized she wasn't talking about you?" Tatter laughed, once again taking the opportunity to tease the group leader

On the other side, Jam Republic is also teasing their group member

"I for sure thought you were gonna pick Bada" Latrice stated, massaging y/n's shoulders, shaking her around a bit to keep her energy up. She didn't say anything, just laughed and rolled her eyes. Noticing the lack of reaction, Ling reaches over and pinches her cheek-

"Are you kidding, y/n would probably forget how to breathe if she had to go up against Bada" causing them all to burst out laughing, including the youngest. She moves out of they're teasing reach and steps onto the dance floor. Daniel introduces the two again and allows them to do their little speeches before the battle actually starts. Y/n goes first and she has that same nervous smile back on her face, but her eyes still twinkle with excitement

"As much as I do respect you, I apologize because I'm still going to compete and perform like I don't" she finishes, trying to seem cool, but she ends up giggling a little. Everyone obviously loses their shit and starts screaming, and even Lusher is clapping and nodding with approval

"Y/n-ya" Everyone's eyes widen, especially Y/n's, as they anticipate Lusher's comeback

"I appreciate your admiration, but there won't be any sharing of the stage, cuz it's all mine" and cue the 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the other dancers, and y/n just smiles and nods. They turn over their mics and prepare for the music to start

"First up- Bebe! LUSHEEEEER" Daniel shouts out and the music comes in as everyone cheers. She starts with some smooth groves and then hits all the accents once the beat drops. Y/n just felt happy to be there, face scrunched up showing how impressed she is with her opponent's moves. Bada tried to solely focus on Lusher, but she couldn’t help but eye up the opposing dancer. and if anyone happened to notice and ask her about it, Bada would just tell them that she was inspecting the competition for the sake of her team…

As Lusher's time runs out, she finishes off strong by getting in y/n's face and ruffling the shorter girl's hair while smirking, causing her to giggle and poke the inside of her cheek with her tongue. She nodded as Daniel announced the switch, and she anticipated everyone's reactions

CL's "Tie a Cherry" starts playing from the pre-chorus and everyone gets even more hyped- some were jumping around and screaming, some grabbed onto their hair, some just had wide eyes and jaw dropped. Lusher stood similar to the last group- eyes wide and jaw dropped to the floor, but she still smiled and laughed in astonishment. Y/n smiled coolly and nodded her head to the beat before bouncing to get into the feel. She does a quick spin around and her vibe has completely changed again-

Everyone notices the different look in her eyes and they all start fangirling amongst themselves again, expressing how excited they are to see her dance. Lusher stands back and watches, amused and somewhat proud, like she's just got herself a new friend- a friend that challenges her by picking a song that she already danced to with the artist.

Bada on the other hand is trying to control her emotions and reactions again- standing behind with the rest of her team, hand covering her mouth, brows furrowed. She's stressing rn, but not because she's scared that Lusher will lose (frankly, she could care less about that) but rather because she doesn't know how she's gonna last a whole season of watching y/n dance without reacting in the most obvious ways possible- especially since she has a reputation to uphold. Now- Bada has never really cared about that type of stuff, she's chill and doesn't really care whether or not people think she's cool. But this- this feeling she gets while watching y/n dance- is a whole new level of uncool. To be completely honest- Bada feels pathetic.

y/n's been hitting every beat, leaving it all out on the floor- her movements are explosive and captivating. So much so, that certain viewers are mesmerized even by the smallest aspects of her performance that she doesn't even have control over.

"Woooow… how does her hair just perfectly fall into place…" Bada's mesmerized voice doesn't fit in with the chaotic energy and screams, so it catches the attention of Tatter, who looks over to see a dazed leader with a slight blush painted on her cheeks, and she bursts out laughing.

"Bada… you need to pull yourself together" she laughs. but right as she finishes her sentence and looks back to watch the rest of the dance, the iconic "razzi shots" line occurs and y/n handles it perfectly.

Right as the "razzi shots" line is played through the speaker, y/n's whole body reacts as if electrified- her articulation is so on point that the final hit of her movement mixed with her unmatched expression sends everyone spiraling into a frenzy. And it only got worse as her next movements were smooth, yet articulated combinations of body rolls and hip swivels, leaving everyone with jaws dropped. No one expected the cute, sometimes fiery, girl to have such an alluring, sexy side to her. Especially Bada, who is now fumbling between covering her eyes and her mouth cuz she's so flustered she doesn't know what to do. And the fact that she doesn't understand why she's feeling this way is making her even more flustered.

Y/n's time is about to run out as she slides onto the ground, and with a flip of her hair, she hits a sexy pose that's all tied together with a seductive smile. The applause are the loudest they’ve been so far, everyone is beyond baffled after watching her perform. She stays in her pose for a second, basking in the attention, and to make it even better she daintily bites her finger and puts on a cute-clueless kind of sexy facade. As if she didn’t just completely destroy everyone’s expectations of her.

After a couple of seconds of holding her pose, she laughs at herself and stands up, first bowing to Lusher, then turning to the audience on her side and bowing- which causes another uproar. Y/n’s brilliant smile is back and she can’t help but clap her hands and cheer with everyone else. The sweet girl who loves to perform was back and she was once again just happy to be there.

The time comes for the judges to decide the winner and in a clean sweep, 3-0, y/n takes the win. Everyone cheers, and y/n comes running up to Lusher to shake her hand again, but Lusher pulls her into a hug instead before pulling back and holding onto the smaller girl's shoulders.

"You're literally so amazing- I was totally joking before, let's share the stage all the time" Lusher jokes around, a genuine smile on her face, but still a teasing lilt in her voice.

"Oh so now you wanna share cuz I won?" y/n teases back, causing Lusher to laugh and shove her shoulder gently, the two girls smiling and giggling together.

"You wish that was you, huh?" Tatter whispers to Bada as they watch from their seats. Bada just turns to look at her with the most fed-up look, causing the blonde to let out a snort of a laugh. As Lusher strides back over to Bebe’s side, she’s smiling still as she looks at her team and shrugs her shoulders. They all hurry to pat her on the back and tell her how well she did, no matter the outcome.

“Y/n is no joke, you guys should be scared to challenge her for sure now.” She looks specifically at the three who had picked her as their no-respect dancer. Causing them all to sigh and chuckle a little in defeat.

“It’s okay- we’re stronger. We have to be.” They all turn to look at their leader in disbelief. They've all noticed how she’s been acting toward y/n, and find it hard to believe Bada actually thinks they could beat her- shit they would even agree that Bada doesn’t think anyone could beat her.

“Whatever you say, captain…” Tatter replies and they all turn their attention back to the front.

As everyone finishes up their individual dance battles, and the battle of the aces finishes off- the teams are released to go prepare for the group battle. Everyone begins heading to their respective rooms, but one dancer stalls behind her crew by a few steps. y/n keeps peaking over her shoulder every so often, to glance back at Bebe. She simply wanted to ask Lusher for her phone number, but the girl didn’t seem to be with her team. She eventually stopped walking altogether and when y/n looked forward again, she realized the rest of her team was so far ahead she’d have to jog to catch up.

“Were you looking for someone?” y/n whips back around and is met with the rest of Bebe, more specifically their leader, who is a lot closer than she expected her to be. Her eyes turn into saucers and she seems to struggle a little to find words.

“Oh- actually- well yeah actually I was…” y/n nervously smiled and looked up at Bada, hoping that her face wasn’t turning red already. Bada gave a gentle smile in return. She looked relaxed, cool, but in her head she was trying to keep calm and not squeeze the cute girl in front of her.

“I was wondering where Lusher went, actually.” the Jam Republic dancer spoke up a little more confidently this time- still very shy, but definitely was able to speak without stuttering, which is progress!

“Mmm” Bada hummed and nodded, seemingly understanding. She held eye contact with the younger girl, before asking,

“Why?” to anyone on the outside looking in, this situation probably looks like a gang of scary tall women harassing some poor girl- which is exactly what Audrey is thinking when she turns to ask y/n a question and looks back to see her many meters away, conversing with Bebe’s leader, while the rest of the crew stands behind her.

“Oh my god- we lost y/n” she starts to panic, causing all the older members to whip around and look at Audrey like she’s crazy, then look at the spot next to her where the youngest member usually stood. Kirsten takes a deep breath before releasing it and shaking her head, Emma and Ling are genuinely in shock, and Latrice just looks at each of the members before laughing and starting to head back towards the direction they came from, to retrieve their baby.

Meanwhile, said baby is still struggling through a conversation with “the love of her life”, as she described to her team after watching Bada battle Redlic.

“Uhm- well I was looking for Lusher hoping I could get her number, or give her mine, cuz… because I really enjoyed dancing with her!” y/n finishes off strong and Bada just tilts her head in an amused, yet condescending way. Y/n finally took the opportunity to actually look at her, and wow, does she wish she didn’t, because if her face wasn’t on fire before, it sure is now. Bada was standing confidently with her feet planted shoulder-width apart and her hands casually in her pockets. Y/n was usually good at acknowledging an attractive woman leaving it at that- but this shit was just too overwhelming for the poor girl.

“She went to go refill her water, but she should be back soon. We were obviously heading to our room so if you wanna come back with us and wait for her, you’re more than welcome to.” Tatter speaks up in a chipper voice from beside Bada. She could see how red the girl’s face had gotten and wanted to help her out a little by putting her focus on something other than Bada. although her comment only seemed to make it worse-

“Oh! Oh no, that’s okay! I don’t want to intrude, and I- I should probably get back to my group anyways to prepare for the battle-” y/n frantically starts to ramble, her face somehow even brighter red than before. Bada couldn’t help the amused smirk that spread across her face.

“How about you just give me your number and I’ll give it to her?” Bada cuts her off, and not only do y/n’s eyes grow four times in size but so do Bada’s teammates’. They all try to discreetly glance at each other without freaking out, cuz since when was their leader this bold???

“Yeah… yeah of course.” Bada smiles and y/n is about to give her number, right when-

“We seriously need to put you on a leash, girl” Latrice laughs and puts her hand on y/n’s shoulder, leaving her to jump in surprise a little, not expecting her crew to have showed up behind her. The young girl let out a relieved sigh and then a tired laugh. She glanced back at Bada and the rest of Bebe then bowed slightly.

“Thank you so much for your help, but I'll just keep an eye out and try to catch her later” she speaks softly and smiles politely before moving to finally head back to her waiting room with her members. As she’s about to round the corner, y/n looks over her shoulder and shouts a sweet “good luck!” then waves cutely.

Bebe is still standing in the same spot they were in when y/n left when Lusher finally made her way back to them.

“Why are we just standing in the hall… I thought you guys would be back in our room already.” She eyes up her crew suspiciously, looking at every one of them before landing on Bada.

“Well, we would’ve been if Bada hadn’t decided to harass y/n” Kyma pipes up, and Lusher sends a look that can only be explained as concern and disbelief toward Bada.

“Excuse me, I did not HARASS her???” Bada looks over at the girl with an incredulous look.

“Right, you just tortured the poor girl and acted so cold she probably thought you were gonna eat her-” “EAT HER???? WHAT AM I NOW? A WOLF???”

“Well-” Tatter chimes in this time, “you did kind of give off that vibe when she was talking to you just now.”

“Okay- we can get back to unpacking that later. Why was she even over here?” Lusher interrupted the flow of conversation. Bada sighed and hesitated before sharing

“She actually was looking for you…” she started calmly. Noticing Lusher’s confused expression, she continued

“y/n was asking for your number… said it was because she really enjoyed dancing with you.” Bada smiled a little as she shared this information with her teammate, who in turn also smiled. Lusher’s wide eyes and light grin, made Bada realize how she actually had the opportunity to get y/n’s number and failed miserably.

“But she said she’d come find you later, so be on the lookout.” the group leader stoically expressed. Lusher hums and nods, mentally pocketing the information. They finally head back to their room and begin to prepare for the battle.

As ALL of Jam Republic enters their room, the first they do after shutting the door is all turn to face y/n. All of the members stare in anticipation, waiting for her to burst.

“So are you gonna tell us what the hell you were doing talking to Bada Lee?” Latrice urges with a teasing grin. Everyone continued to wait for y/n to start excitedly ranting, but it never came.

“I feel…” the youngest starts and they all lean in slightly, waiting for her to express everything vividly,

“I feel really confused.” She finishes her statement in a daze and honestly, the members are now convinced she’s totally out of it.

“Oh my god… what did she say to you?” “Are you okay?” “Do we need to fight her?” Emma and Audrey go back and forth with their questions, hurrying to bring y/n to sit in between them on the couch.

“She just… she’s… I just really love women, and I think I specifically am going to fall in love with that woman, and I think I'm gonna die” she rants outwardly, still in a daze. All of her members lean back slightly, flabbergasted by the youngest’s statement. Kirsten tries to keep her jaw off the floor but she puts up a hand and tries to dismiss the situation for the time being

“Well… uh… alright should we prepare for the battle, and revisit this later?” “yes please” “alright awesome, thank you for sharing y/n” “yeah, no problem”

All teams have gathered again in the main competition area for the group battle, all fired up again and ready to rumble. The energy is high as all groups compete, the mission’s final ranking is announced and Jam Republic celebrates their decent rank of fourth place. With Bebe placing right above them in third, y/n turns to the groups and claps for them, making eye contact with Lusher and giving her a thumbs up, which is returned.

They wrap up and begin to head back to their rooms again. Y/n approaches Bebe with a bright smile and hopes that Lusher will come right forward and save the other girl from embarrassing herself again in front of the group’s leader. But it turns out Lusher has other plans. She skips down the bleachers and smiles at y/n before walking right past her.

“Bada, can you get y/n’s number for me, I have to use the restroom- thanks!” she shouts as she retreats, causing all of her teammates to laugh in shock, except her leader. Bada, unprepared for the confrontation, is a little flustered and doesn’t know if she’ll be able to put up the same act as before.

Bada stands from her seat and calmly and coolly strides towards y/n. She pulls out her phone and opens the contact app, handing it to the small girl with a relaxed, almost bored, expression. When y/n doesn’t do anything at first, she looks up at Bada with wide puppy eyes, and Bada swears she stopped breathing for a second.

“You can just put your information in my phone and I'll send it to Lusher” the team leader explains, hoping y/n can’t tell how worked up and tense she is right now.

“Oh- yeah. duh” Y/n awkwardly laughs and enters her information before looking back up again with bright eyes to ask-

“Can I give myself a contact picture?” She doesn’t seem awkward or nervous at all when she asks for permission, and Bada finds it adorable. She couldn't help the endeared laugh that escaped her, and she was honestly okay with it because afterward the vibe totally changed.

“Of course you can give yourself a picture” Bada responds with a gentle, amused smile and y/n feels her nerves start to dissipate, as Bada’s genuine smile makes her feel warm and fuzzy, and she never wants to stop seeing such a beautiful thing.

Y/n poses for her contact photo by simply doing a peace sign and sticking out her tongue. Bada again giggles at her cuteness and thanks her when she hands her phone back. She’s about to speak when the Jam dancer beats her to it-

“Even though I technically gave you my number for Lusher, you should definitely still text me too, so I have your number as well!” y/n confidently speaks, but the blush painting her cheeks betrays her nerves. Bada’s eyes widen, genuinely shocked at her bold request.

“Of course- I’ll text you right now.” and so she does. Y/n giggles as she watches Bada take a similar selfie to her, which she receives moments later.

“That’s for my contact picture by the way-” the older girl jokes, which causes y/n to burst out laughing. She was surprised that this Bada was the same person as the one who almost had her fainting in the hallways earlier. The two talked and laughed some more- they really couldn’t get enough of each other.

“You know, I was freaking out during your battle with Redy- when you got in her face and started like- making fun of her height or whatever you'd call that- oh my god it was amazing! My face got so hot watching that” y/n excitedly expressed her admiration, but realized a few seconds too late how she possibly exposed herself. And she felt her face heat up immediately when Bada tilted her head and smirked teasingly.

“Oh? Why was your face all hot? Huh?” Bada teases, standing firmly with her arms crossed over her chest. She steps up to y/n, similarly to how she did with Redy. except when she’s directly in front of her and able to look over her head entirely, Bada glances down at y/n who’d already staring up at her with those wide puppy eyes that have been trapping her all day, her mouth slightly hung open.

Y/n is holding her breath- the way Bada is looking at her right now is making her want to cry. She’s so close, and the tone she uses while teasing y/n makes the younger girl weak in the knees, ready to fold at any second. She tries to stay aware, but y/n can feel her eyelids start to droop, as do Bada’s. The way she’s looking at her- with half-lidded, seductive eyes- y/n doesn’t understand how she got here, but the last thing she wanted for was it to end.

Bada had to remind herself there were many other people and cameras currently around, so she looked y/n up and down, smirked slightly (yet effectively), and backed away. She cleared her throat, but the smirk remained on her face, in fact- it was even bigger than before.

“I’ll text you later, okay?” She’s still close enough to where she can speak softly, and it makes her heart rate pick up when she realizes how flushed and dazed the younger dancer is in front of her. Bada raises her eyebrows slightly when she doesn’t get a response, to which y/n reacts quickly with a firm nod. Bada giggles at her and continues to tease.

“Ya- you should really learn how to use your words, puppy” Bada smiles condescendingly and y/n’s eyes widen once again. She lets out a small gasp when the older girl ruffles her hair before walking away.”

“I’ll text you, y/n!” Bada shouts over her shoulder and y/n just stands there, astonished. She eventually makes her way back to her crew, who watched the entire thing go down.

“What the FUCK was that-”

notes: thank you so much for reading!! sorry that this is so long and there wasn't any "real" romance written in yet. this is definitely a slower burn series, but it's because I like to build up every detail of a story haha. hoping to have the next part ready by the middle of this week, please look forward to it!!

#moth to a flame #bada x reader #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #bada lee x reader #bada lee

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

Note

Soft, romantic and drunk bf Yoongi waking you up by going down on you when he gets in late after a night of drink (with OT7/ after suchwita/ whatever) in which he could not stop thinking about you and your pussy.

I can even give inspo: tu mbl r.co m/poutyniall/714256286018142208/tongue-technology

yeah hey hi hello thanks for sending this. after only receiving PG requests this really sent me into a spiral.

crescendo

pairing: yoongi x reader (no pronouns used, but gendered terms are used for genitalia) genre: established relationship au; smut, fluff warnings: alcohol, swearing, yoongi is tipsy and just a horny pining disaster, previously discussed and consenting somnophilia, oral sex, unedited. rating: explicit. minors do not interact. wordcount: 1k listen to: middle of the night by elley duhé

Amongst his group of friends, Yoongi is the only one who gets like this when he’s drunk.

Some people regress and act half their age (Seokjn). Some people are overly-affectionate and stumble over compliments (Jimin). Some people try to pick philosophical debates over the point at which bread ceases to be bread and becomes toast (Namjoon). Some people bypass the philosophical entirely and go straight to the conspiratorial (Taehyung). Some people take one sip and slump over in the booth, moaning that they’re half-dead (Hoseok). Finally, some people don’t even bother to show up, because they’re too busy staying home and playing Overwatch to check their texts (Jungkook).

Yoongi, though—Yoongi gets horny.

The kind of horny that has him looking away each time someone’s tongue darts out to catch a stray drop of alcohol. The kind of horny that has him doing complex mathematical equations in his head to determine if he could conceivably lock himself in a bathroom stall and get it out of his system before anyone becomes suspicious. The kind of horny that has him sending you half-legible text messages under the table, detailing every dirty thing he wants to do to you, despite the fact you told him hours ago you were going to shower and go to sleep.

Fuck. He needs to get out of here.

“Aw, look at Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin teases, and everyone except Hoseok creates a chorus of laughter. Yoongi’s cheeks burn, made worse by the garish yellow-red lights of this bar. “I can’t decide if I should be jealous or concerned.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Why would you be concerned, Jimin-ah? Sex is a normal, beautiful thing, and it’s absolute bullshit that people use it as a point of shame—”

“Yeah, okay, that’s my cue,” Seokjin says around a fake gag. “Who had the tab tonight? Just send me a request—”

“You had the tab, you fucker—”

Seokjin hears none of it. Just says, “Mm, bye,” and then he’s gone. Which is Yoongi’s cue too, because he’s the second-oldest and therefore second in command, and the rest of them won’t even hesitate to stick him with the bill because it happens every single time it’s Seokjin’s turn to pay.

So he lies. Says, “Hyung will pay it in a minute. Gotta piss first,” and stumbles out the back.

He’ll hear about it later, if not from his four dongsaengs then certainly his ancestors, but he needs to be home. Needs to feel you spread out beneath him—your sleep-warmed skin, still soft from your shower, the scent of your body wash stubbornly clinging on. Needs to press his lips to every inch of it. Needs the smell and taste of you overwhelming him. Needs to hear all those little sounds you make.

The longer this taxi ride drags on, the more paranoid he becomes. Can the driver tell how fucked up he is in his backseat? Can he see the way Yoongi’s fingers are gripping the worn leather? How desperately he’s trying to keep quiet every time something explicit plays in his memory? He’d understand, Yoongi thinks; he’d understand if he knew you, saw you. He wouldn’t be able to blame Yoongi at all.

Seoul passes by in a blur, all neon reds and blues and whites. Everything is still so alive, even at this god-forsaken hour, and it makes him dizzy. Has his head spinning. He’s drunk and he’s horny and he just wants to be next to you.

Somehow, he manages to dig his phone out of his pocket despite how tight they’ve grown over the last hour. Goes straight to his texts, pointedly ignores all the ones in the groupchat yelling at him and Seokjin, and presses on your name. He’s less drunk now than he was before, but the messages still don’t make sense. Yoongi groans, throws his head back against the seat. Next time he’s just going to skip the bullshit and send you pictures. No use speaking in tongues when hieroglyphics could work much better.

The next five minutes play out like this: the taxi stops outside your building, Yoongi hands over a stack of money that’s undoubtedly too thick, he stumbles up the steps two at a time, so close yet still too far away.

And then there’s the door.

“This okay, baby?”

A nip of teeth at the junction of your thigh. Hands gripping at your waist, fingers dimpling your skin. Warm breath ghosting over your wet cunt. Yoongi’s head between your thighs as he kneels on the bed. You’re unsure if you’re conscious or not, but as you tangle your hands in Yoongi’s soft hair, you decide it doesn’t matter.

So you nod, angle your hips closer to Yoongi’s face. A whisper-soft gasp when he presses a kiss to your thigh, one to your clit; a strangled moan when you feel him smile against you before flattening his tongue and licking a stripe up your slit.

“Fuck,” he groans, doing it again, pulling away only long enough to say, “thought about this pussy all fucking night. You taste so good.”

Yoongi indulges in your body the way other people indulge in vices: incessantly, obsessively. But you aren’t a vice, are you? You’re not something to be ashamed of; not something wicked. As Yoongi continues working you over with his mouth, so sloppy and overeager you can feel it dampening the sheets beneath you, it feels like reverence.

It isn’t long before the heat starts simmering in your belly. Not long before everything starts feeling overwhelming; before your visions starts blurring at the edges. “Yoong, I’m—”

He hums against your core. Sucks hard once at your clit, and then you’re tumbling over the edge. “Goddamn, I love you,” Yoongi says into your skin. “That’s it, give it to me, baby, I love you.”

It feels predestined.

#beeday drabbles #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #yoongi drabble #yoongi fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x reader #jewel answers #jewel writes

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flamingo-writes · 10 months

Text

A Dinner Invitation — Hobie x Reader

Based off my Gal In The Chair headcannons

Genre: fluff, slice of life. Plotless fluff basically.

Warnings: none. Perhaps cursing? I don’t remember, at this point my brain writes curse words like they’re not actually curse words.

Summary: Miles gets a dinner invitation at Hobie’s universe. Not only Miles walks into Hobie’s home, which is as artistic as he expected, but much greener than he imagined. And there he meets Hobie’s girlfriend, equally artistic, perfectly matching Hobie’s energy. Seeing Hobie so relaxed and affectionate feels weirdly intimate and refreshing to Miles.

Word Count: 1.2K words

A/N: I’ve been daydreaming of all sorts of scenarios revolving the Gal in The Chair. So, be ready for the spam 😩 if you’d like to be tagged, let me know.

“Home, sweet’eart!” Hobie said walking inside the seemingly chaotic place, as Gwen, Pav and Miles followed him.

Miles looked around, surprised by the amount of things lying around. It was chaotic but didn’t look dirty. Almost as if everything had been purposefully place where it was. It was a small apartment with hardly any furniture. But there were art projects, materials and plants everywhere. Plants everywhere. The confusion only seemed to grow with every step, the apartment smelled like a woman lived there, but didn’t smell like Gwen.

And still puzzled by what went on between Hobie and Gwen, specially after he’d said she’d left her jumper, among the things he’d heard, he was sure there was something going on between them. And judging by the apartment, —and the smell of girl’s perfume—, it did seem like Hobie might live with one.

As Miles felt simultaneously more confused and somewhat relieved, he saw Hobie walk up to a girl working on a mannequin, fixing some clothes. He kissed the top of her headache wrapped his arms around her waist.

“That looks cool…” He purred. “Sexy, even…”

The girl giggled and looked over at Hobie as they kissed.

Miles sighed relieved.

“Will you model that for me later today?” Hobie asked with a flirty smirk.

“I can’t. This is a personalised piece Julie asked for…” The girl said looking over her shoulder at Hobie with a gentle smile and loving stare. “How did it go?”

“Messy,” Hobie said letting go of the girl. “awful, but Gwendy and Pav are here and I brought a new friend…” He said.

Pav yelled your name as you put down the needles and pins and greeted Pav in a tight hug. You let out a soft giggle as Pav lifted you up effortlessly, as if it had been ages since he last saw you.

“Who…?” Miles whispered confused.

“Hobie’s girlfriend,” Gwen said.

“A true renaissance artist,” Hobie said before introducing you to Miles, telling him your name. “Buy her stuff. She personalises and fixes your clothes, also does that with secondhand clothes. She also designs them as well as handmade Jewellery. Brings your plants back to health, she also reproduces and sells them, if you ever want to gift your mum some pretty plants or flowers…Helps me setting up my art shows, and set up everything for a gig. She’s also my left hand, best friend, lover, and favourite person on earth,” Hobie said proudly as you blushed lightly as Pav let you go from his tight bear hug.

“I’m not as interesting as Hobes just made me sound…” You said modestly walking up to Miles.

“But she is,” Pav intervened and walked into the kitchen, parading around the place like he lived there.

“I’m…Miles…” He said with an awkward chuckle as he extended his stiff hand towards you.

“Nice meeting you Miles. Coffee? Tea? We also have plain ol’water…Juice…”

“N-no thanks…” Miles chuckled awkwardly. “I’m fine. Thank you…” He said as he looked around. “So you do all of this for a living?”

“Sadly, in this highly capitalist and consumerist society, people do not appreciate the handwork of a true artist…” Hobie said as Miles looked slightly puzzled at him.

“That’s Hobie for, I do this full time even though it’s a lot of stuff, I barely manage to make a living out of this,”

“No way!”

“People don’t buy plants nor get their clothes fixed everyday,” You shrugged.

“Hey!” Pav said defensively as he went into the kitchen.

“Pav always buys plants, though” You chuckled. “Hobie helps me a lot too, the both of us manage to keep this whole place afloat,” You sad looking at Hobie with a dreamy smile.

Hobie from the kitchen looked at you with a cheeky flirty smirk and winked at you.

“Buy your mother a nice set of earrings and a plant, kid…” Hobie told Miles as he walked out of the kitchen with a cup of chai.

“My mother really liked the flowers I bought her last week,” Pav said. “Also the necklace and earrings set you made for her!”

“I’m glad, Pav. You know where to find me…” You said happily as Hobie wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple as he handed you the cup.

“I made some chai, if anyone wants some” Pav said happily.

You took a sip out of Hobie’s mug and hummed.

“God, no matter how many times I do it, it’s never as good as Pav’s…” You sighed softly.

“My man’s got a talent,” Hobie said.

“Gotta go back to that shirt I was working on,” You announced. “Are you guys staying for dinner?”

“Gwendy and I can handle dinner, you go do your thing, luv” Hobie said as he grabbed your jaw in his long fingers and kissed you sweetly. “Call you when it’s done,” He said softly as you hummed and stole one last peck from him before handing him back his cup and went back to the mannequin.

“Can you bring me my own cup of chai?”

“Anything for you, princess,” Hobie said with a soft voice as he turned around and went into the kitchen.

Miles looked at you as you went back to measuring and putting pins on the mannequin. Quickly absorbed by your work.

"Gorgeous, isn’t she?” Hobie said with a proud smirk. "C’mon, y’all wanna have dinner, y’all better help…"

Despite the chatty mess of laughs and sarcastic comments, Miles was still intrigued with how you never seemed to lose focus from your work. Even when they were being crazy loud. Blending naturally into the commotion, Miles felt comfortable between all of them. Wondering whether if it was because they all were spider people, or simply because the over all energy marched his own. He had friends before, but never a group of friends like this one. He felt absolutely free, being able to behave naturally without the fear of being judged or stared at.

Pav took over the kitchen, making most of the work himself. While the food was ready, Pav and Gwen talked about spices as Miles kept looking around intrigued. At some point, Hobie disappeared from the scene, and as Miles was looking for Hobie, his eyes dragging, looking over every detail in the apartment. Eventually, he spotted Hobie’s tall figure towering over you.

As you set down your tools, and Hobie pulled a chair next to you, he cupped your face in his large hands and pulled you close, kissing you sweetly. Something about Hobie being the badass and cool punk, a guy who was seemingly ready to start a coup d’état anywhere, now looked like the biggest softy he’d ever seen, while still looking cool somehow.

Feeling weirdly love sick and jealous, he didn’t intend to stare as Hobie and you kissed. He thought about how good it must be to have what the two of you had. He glanced over at Gwen, feeling his crush poking at him, twisting his guts as Gwen met his stare and smiled. She then looked over at the both of you.

“Aren’t they gross?” Gwen asked with a playful smirk.

“I think they’re cute,” Pav intervened.

Miles chuckled and gazed back at you, as you were now hugging Hobie. Your hand disappearing in his wicks, as his face was nuzzled against the crook of your neck and his arms around your waist.

“I think they’re cute. Perhaps slightly gross…” Miles joked.

“It makes me kinda jealous. I wish I could get the courage to ask Meera out on a date…” Pav sighed.

“We can hear ya talking over ‘ere, lads…” Hobie chuckled.

“You’re so nosy,” You chuckled kissing Hobie’s head.

“We knew that,” He replied as he pulled away from the hug and stared at you, cupping one of your cheeks in his large hand. “Absolutely gorgeous,” He said as he leaned forward and stole a peck from your lips. “How’s dinner, Pav?”

“Basically done. One or two more minutes,” He said.

“C’mon, Miles. Let’s set the table,” Gwen said gently bumping her elbow on Miles’ ribs.

~~~~~~~

Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed it! Feedback is also very welcome and always makes my day 🥺

#Hobie Brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spider punk #spider punk x y/n #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #hobie x you

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yutaholic · 4 months

Text

the show must go on (M)

PAIRING: Haechan (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: Your best friend, your ride or die, Haechan has never once left your side, but all good things must come to an end.

WARNINGS: strong language; brief mentions of alcohol and drug abuse; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 7.9k words; this is part three of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot

Seattle, 1991

We met in detention. Eighth grade. Not to be cliché, but I knew Lee Haechan was trouble when he walked in.

Takes one to know one.

What I didn’t know was the role he would come to play in my life. I doubt many people meet their soulmate in middle school. I was pretty lucky in that.

The two of us practically lived in detention that entire year. Ninth grade was a little better; we just hung out behind the school instead of inside it. A silly pair of dumb kids wearing matching leather jackets and passing a cigarette back and forth, coughing up smoke and thinking it made us cool.

We thought we had it all figured out. But only Haechan turned out to be right.

He was the one that started the band. Haechan threw us all together and made music out of our chaos and trauma. He was the glue and without him, we would fall apart.

You clambered quietly into the passenger seat and whispered, “They’re asleep.”

Haechan was behind the wheel, but the van was parked on a grassy knoll just off the main highway. “Finally, some fucking peace and quiet,” he mumbled, sitting in a cloud of smoke that poured from his lips. The thick scent of marijuana filled the van from stem to stern.

You followed your best friend’s gaze. His eyes were firmly planted out the window at the black curtain of nightfall painted with billions of little lights. “The sky looks so pretty,” you said in awe.

“I know. It’s crazy seeing stars this bright.”

There was a tiny lull of silence. You were thinking. It wasn’t often you got to be alone with Haechan lately and it was making you crazy - not getting to confide in your best friend.

“I let Mark raw me,” you blurted out.

Haechan snorted. “I heard, but clearly your birth control did its job.”

“I snorted cocaine with Jeno… and fucked him in a dressing room.”

Your best friend looked at you, arching a brow. “So?” Doing crazy shit with Jeno wasn’t new, to be fair.

“What the hell am I doing?”

“What you do best - loving everyone except yourself.”

You frowned. Nail hitting the head every time, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t do that,” you said in a small voice.

Haechan smirked and put the joint to his lips, taking another long drag. “You know me better than to think I’m going to be your conscience and scold you,” he said a moment later. “It makes sense you’re trying to get in as many rounds of fun before the summer ends.”

The summer was winding down. August was half over.

I didn’t want it to end. I couldn’t. Because I knew in my heart when we went home, we would go our separate ways. Forever.

There would be nothing holding us together anymore.

“Haechan?”

“Yes, my love?”

You fought back tears as you asked, “What are we going to do when it’s all over?”

Haechan slapped on a playful grin for your sake and said, “We’re going to get scouted at a concert and get a huge record deal and I’ll eat you out over a bed of hundred dollar bills.”

You snorted. “God, that would be a dream.” You quickly sobered. “What’s the reality?”

Your best friend’s grin melted away and his voice turned to frost. “Go home. Find a minimum wage job. And try not to turn into raging alcoholics like our parents.”

“I thought so,” you sighed, hanging your head.

Haechan reached over and rubbed your arm. “Save the major depressive episode for back home. Let’s just enjoy these last few days.”

“I don’t want to give up,” you said, meeting his eyes again. The fire inside you lit itself with resolve. No matter how small it was. “I want something more for us in life.”

“I know you do, baby,” Haechan crooned, touching your cheek affectionately. “But some things are just out of our control.”

You blinked with the urge to cry. You couldn’t fight it anymore. Regardless of his gentle tone, Haechan’s words sounded final. You slipped out of the seat and to the floor to lay your head on Haechan’s thigh, closing your eyes as he stroked your hair.

After a moment, Haechan whispered, “I’ll never forget you for as long as I live. No matter what happens. I hope you know that.”

The tears slipped down your face as you smiled and said, “I love you too.”

Haechan’s lips twitched. He wanted so badly to not let it bother him, but he couldn’t. He knew damn well when the summer ended and the band came up empty, there would be a permanent wedge of broken hearts and crushed dreams between you.

So, so lonely. That was Haechan’s biggest fear. Losing his best friends would destroy him beyond repair. He would go through life jaded and bitter, like his parents.

Maybe it really was unavoidable. Fighting fate sounded great in songs, but reality wasn’t kind. He knew that better than anyone.

The next morning, you woke in the bed with Jeno’s arm tucked around your waist, his body molded to yours keeping you warm. There was no telling which boy scooped you off the floor and put you in bed, but your money was on Mark. He was having a hard time looking at you and Haechan was mysteriously quiet.

But you knew why.

Tension had settled over the van, the worst of the worst. After the show in Seattle, there were no more gigs to be played. Now, the long drive home would begin, shadowed by defeat and failure.

You resorted to doing what you always did; trying to alleviate the pressure and raise everyone’s spirits. Once the boys were up and actually keeping their eyes open, you had Jeno drive to the nearby state park.

As he did, you drifted between them. They were like strangers, devoid of energy and hope. Mark hadn’t touched his guitar since the final gig. The gentle strumming of his acoustic and the beauty of his softly whispered singing didn’t fill the van anymore, to your dismay.

Haechan curled up in the bed and didn’t say a word. Jeno drove silently, smoking one cigarette after another and blowing the smoke out the window. You started with him, running your hand over his shoulder as he held the wheel. Jeno glanced at you briefly, offering a weak smile that even he couldn’t keep. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple.

You went to Mark next and curled up next to him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and holding him tightly. Mark was a little surprised, seeing as how the two of you had been working hard to keep your hands off each other, but was over the moon to have you in his arms again. He kissed the top of your head and ran his hands up and down your back.

“Won’t you play a little something?” you asked gently.

Mark shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, closing your eyes to fight the tears.

Finally, you went to Haechan and sat on the mattress next to him. He just looked at you, his stare vacant and blank. You brushed his long hair from his face and leaned in to trace a few kisses from his cheek to the corner of his mouth, just to see if you could spark a reaction.

Haechan pushed you ever so slightly and said, “That’s not going to work this time.”

You frowned. And gave up. The three were inconsolable and it broke your heart.

Sidling over to the cabinet, you found your notebook and began flipping pages, going to where you’d left off. Your brows stitched when you didn’t find it and that was when you noticed the torn remains of paper in the metal spiral.

“Okay. Which one of you ripped the page out?”

Mark met your eyes and said, “Don’t look at me.”

You called, “Jeno?”

“You know I wouldn’t touch your shit,” he replied calmly.

Leaving you to turn to Haechan, his eyes closed. “Haechan?”

“I don’t give a fuck about your memoir,” he said, hissing your name.

That made you flinch. You understood his anger, but not the vitriol toward your story. Your eyes fell to the notebook and the missing page, and your hands began to shake.

You threw the notebook at the cabinet and it landed in a pitiful heap. Tensing with frustration, you bent your legs, wrapped your arms around your knees, and hid your face, crying as quietly as you could.

Mark moved slowly, grazing against you to pick up the notebook and tuck it back into its place neatly, but he didn’t have the courage to comfort you. Too scared he would make it worse.

It was Haechan that slipped to the floor and enveloped you in his arms, cradling your head to his chest and dabbing at your cheeks with his sleeve.

When Jeno pulled into the park, you breathed in relief. The van was too stifling, suffocating you in all its misery. You hopped out of the van without a word and started marching for the scenic overlook advertised on a giant sign like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

One-by-one, your bandmates whined and huffed, but inevitably followed. They could wallow in their own disappointment, but they couldn’t stand seeing it hit you.

That’s how the four of you came to sit at a lone picnic table, silently staring at the Pacific Ocean, watching the waves ebb and flow in all its unwavering glory.

The tears had dried on your face. Breathing in the sweet, salty air grounded you again, clearing your lungs and your head.

You were the one to finally break the silence. “I need to come clean about something.”

“Go ahead,” Jeno replied, yawning as he still struggled to shake off sleep.

Wringing your hands in your lap, you began, “I’ve been mailing pieces of the memoir to Cassie.”

“That explains the trips to the post office,” Mark said offhandedly. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be glib or not.

“And?” Jeno pressed.

You took a breath. “She submitted it to a publisher for their… consideration, I guess it’s called.”

Well, that woke everyone up.

“Are you serious?” Haechan asked, his eyes wide.

“Yeah?” You were befuddled by the reaction, glancing around at them. All three of your boys were sporting similar looks of shock. “You knew I was writing a memoir.”

“We knew you were scribbling in a notebook to toss in a bin and find it again twenty years later and laugh at all the dumb shit we did…” Haechan’s tone of disdain was not lost on you.

Jeno’s gawking increased. “Babe, are you insane?”

You felt small on that picnic table between them, utterly confused, and snapped, “No. I’m trying to get us out of this hell!”

Grimacing, Mark asked pointedly, “You wrote about all the very illegal shit you’ve been doing?”

Oh. That’s why they were freaked out. Underage drinking. Marijuana. Cocaine. All very punishable offenses. You shrugged and plastered on your cutest, most innocent smile. “A little?”

“Fuck,” Jeno swore, sliding off the bench to his feet and running a hand through his hair.

Haechan shook his head and chuckled. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

You rubbed your arms awkwardly.

I was so determined to make it work. It was tunnel vision, so intense I could see nothing else.

“What did the publisher say?” Mark asked, touching your shoulder in comfort. The awkwardness was killing him too.

“I don’t know,” you said, leaning into him a little, desperate for warmth. “I call Cassie at every stop to check on the dogs and she promised to update me on any replies from the publisher.”

Jeno looked to Haechan. “Can they report us to the cops?”

Haechan waved him away, looking more amused the longer he thought about it. “No. She can just say it’s all fiction. Very embellished fiction.”

Mark bobbed his head. “Good thinking.”

You almost laughed. Haechan could lie his way out of almost anything. In this case, it would be in your favor. You glanced around at your boys again. “So…, is everyone mad at me or are we good?”

“We’re good,” Haechan said, patting your head. “For now.”

“Fuck.” Mark sounded exhausted. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know if I could handle losing our music career, but being notorious in a fucking book.”

It was your turn to comfort him, running your hand across his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles under your fingers.

Jeno kicked at a pinecone, watching it skitter across the rocks. “We’d be the fucking losers just known for banging bitches at every stop,” he sneered. Then, the drummer had a thought and raised his brows. “Actually, whatever gets us paid, I don’t really care.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” Mark asked curiously. “You technically wrote the book, but it’s about all of us.”

You made a face. “It’s our story. Of course I’d split everything fairly with you guys.”

Haechan smiled at you ever so faintly.

“I can’t believe our story’s almost over,” Jeno mumbled bitterly.

You perked up. This was as good a time as any. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“What do you mean?”

You got up and spun on your heels, so you could face them all at once. “I was thinking…,” you said, shifting your weight. “We could get a place together and we’d work odd jobs to pay the bills, but we would play gigs here and there. Whatever we could get.”

Jeno simpered. You weren’t clinging to the band. You just didn’t want to let go of them.

“We’d be scraping by a living forever,” Mark pointed out.

“But we’d be doing what we love,” you argued.

“Try loving something that never loves you back,” Haechan said harshly. “You become bitter and miserable. Just like my parents. And yours.”

You scanned their faces. Each had the tiniest bit of hope in their eyes, but their expressions were firmly rooted in defeat. “You guys just want to go home after everything we did this summer and…,” you trailed, a tremble creeping into your voice. “Pretend like it never happened?”

Jeno softened. “Of course it happened. We’ll always look back and remember this as the best days of our lives.” He talked to you like he was soothing a fussy baby. “But best days don’t last. That’s why you look back on them.”

Your eyes burned. More tears would come any moment now and you weren’t ashamed of them. “I just don’t understand why you’re all giving up. Why am I the only one trying to keep us together?”

“Because you’re the dreamer,” Mark sighed.

Haechan snapped, “Stop being so gentle with her,” and Jeno was quick to warn, “Don’t be a dick.”

Your best friend jumped down from the picnic table and approached you. You knew by his tone and his gait that he was about to dress you down and you readied yourself for the blow.

“This is how it’s going to go,” Haechan started, pointing at the guitarist. “Mark’s parents will blow their entire retirement savings to send him to a good college to recover their reputation. And they will never let him date someone like you.”

You flinched.

“Fuck you,” Mark hissed, every muscle in his body tensing for a fight.

Haechan continued, “Jeno won’t be able to hold down a job. He’ll be a regular customer in rehab, then jail.”

Jeno held up his middle finger. “Go to hell.”

Haechan set his eyes on you and a chill ran down your spine. “And you,” Haechan said through clenched jaws. “You’ll meet some guy you can barely stand, but he’ll keep a nice roof over your head. He’ll put a couple babies in you after some miserable missionary and your entire personality will center around the screaming kids you never wanted. Just like your mom.”

Your blood turned to ice in your veins. Planting both hands on Haechan’s chest, you shoved him back and screamed, “You son of a bitch, I hate you!”

Jeno was suddenly caught in a very precarious position. As you stomped off, his first instinct was to go after you, but in the next second, Mark was off the table and charging toward Haechan. So, Jeno had to decide whose life was in the most imminent danger.

And he correctly chose Haechan.

Mark grabbed Haechan by the collar with both hands and crowded into his face. “I’m gonna fuck you up,” he roared, but Haechan didn’t fight back.

He was numb. His face was blank, his eyes cold.

Jeno did his best to wedge himself between them, but he was too defeated. All the thunder was gone from him. “Why did you do that to her?” he asked sadly.

“She has to let go of us,” Haechan replied, looking from Jeno to Mark. “Make her hate you. It’s the only way.”

Mark shook his head in dissent, clenching his fists even tighter in Haechan’s shirt.

You put plenty of distance between yourself and the boys, and the moment you found a solitary bench between trees, you collapsed onto it, buried your face in your hands, and wept.

We have no secrets, Haechan and I. He knows the darkest depths of my soul, and I know his.

I never thought he’d use that as a weapon, but I should have known.

He was the only one that dreamed bigger and harder than me. With it all ending, his heart was dying and pain makes us do horrible things. Especially to the ones we love most.

Because he knew I would still love him anyway. No matter how much he broke me.

Time lost all meaning as you cried on that bench. It wasn’t just Haechan’s words that crushed you, it was the cruel reality of life. You didn’t want to live without your boys. The four of you were too interwoven and connected. Being parted from them would be like tearing at the fabric of who you were.

You were expected to walk around with a gaping hole in your chest forever?

Sure. Most people did. It would account for all the hate and anger in the world.

“My love?”

You lifted your head at the sound of his voice, roughly wiped your wet cheeks, and growled, “Go away, Haechan. I swear to god, I will slap the shit out of you.”

Haechan dragged his feet over to you and said, “Go ahead. I deserve it.”

You refused to look at him as he sat beside you. Your eyes focused on the ocean.

We had the same biggest fear. Becoming our parents. As time went on, the more it seemed inevitable. A cycle that couldn’t be broken. We were fools to think we could be different.

That’s what I was hanging onto. I had to avoid that fate at all costs. Part of me thought that as long as I had my boys, they could save me from it.

“How could you say my worst nightmare so casually like that?” You were still shaking.

Haechan hung his head. “I was trying to hurt you.”

You scoffed, deadpanning, “At least you’re honest.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, like all the air was sapped from his lungs. When you didn’t respond, Haechan said, “Look at me. Please.”

“No.”

Your best friend sighed loudly and slouched into the bench, resting his head on the back. The two of you sat there for what felt like hours, watching the world pass you by.

“You’ll prove me wrong,” Haechan said tenderly. “You will be the one that breaks the cycle. The rest of us will just watch.”

Still, you said nothing. You hated him.

Because Haechan always ended up being right. It was a gift and a curse.

Mark and Jeno came looking. The latter was the only one brave enough to approach you, holding out his hand without a word. You peered up at him and let your hand slip into his, and Jeno led you away.

Haechan blinked and the tears escaped. He held them back until you left, refusing to cry in front of you. Keeping his hands in his lap, Haechan didn’t bother to dry his cheeks.

Mark blew out a pained breath. “What do we do?”

“You know what you have to do,” Haechan said, cutting his eyes at Mark. “If you don’t stand up to your parents, they’ll make you give her up.”

“I won’t,” Mark started.

“They will wear you down. You know they will. She’s not who they have in mind for their perfect boy. They hate her.”

Mark nodded.

“If you grow a spine, the two of you can at least live happily ever after,” Haechan joked, but there was a bitter edge to his voice.

“What about you and Jeno?”

Haechan stood. “It is what it is.”

The cloud in the van darkened. Jeno and Mark were miserable, and predictably stoic about it. Neither knew what to do with you. As it turned out, you were the rock, not Jeno.

Curled up in the bed with your back to them, you closed your eyes, but had no intention of sleeping. You would just lay there and wait for something to break or change. You’d done the heavy lifting so far. Now it was their turn.

Haechan couldn’t take the silence anymore. He trudged out of the van and slammed the door behind him.

You didn’t bat an eye. At this point, you didn’t have the energy to ask or care.

That wasn’t true. I always cared. Nothing could ever make me stop caring. We are all cursed and that was mine.

When the doors wheeled open, Haechan was sweaty and disheveled. You wondered how much time had passed as he sat on the mattress beside you. “Come with me,” your best friend said, holding out his hand.

You smarted, “Or what?”

“Or I’ll drag you.”

You looked over your shoulder and gave him an obstinate glare, but your curiosity was piqued. The hell had he been doing that got him so shiny with sweat? It didn’t take him that long to jerk off.

A defeated sigh left your lips. He was still your best friend, even if you hated his guts at the moment.

After batting his hand away, you got up and followed Haechan outside, rolling your eyes at the looks Mark and Jeno were sporting.

Gravel crunched beneath your shoes as Haechan led you into the trees, not too far from the van. When you saw what he was bringing you to, you couldn’t help but smile a little.

A camping tent was set up; the one Haechan had insisted on strapping on top of the van in case he found a nice spot. And it seemed he found one.

This was a habit of ours. When the yelling at my house got to be too much, when I couldn’t block it with my locked door or the blankets over my head, I would sneak out the window.

My parents didn’t notice. Hard to notice if you don’t care. Haechan would always be waiting to run off with me to the park. There were safe, secluded areas to set the tent up without fear of being interrupted.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten laid in that pathetic little tent. I’d probably mourn the damn thing when it finally fell apart.

Just as I mourned my relationships.

“How about a night not sleeping in the van?” Haechan asked, unzipping the front flap and holding it open for you.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” you barked, narrowing your eyes at him and crawling inside.

Haechan bit his tongue. Any witty remarks would not be appreciated at the moment.

But given Haechan was allergic to quiet, he wasn’t going to keep enabling your cold shoulder for much longer. Watching you lay on your back and make yourself comfortable over the sleeping bags, Haechan sidled up next to you as close as humanly possible.

“I’m still mad,” you huffed.

“I know.”

Well, with that out of the way, you relaxed. He knew you were upset. Now the groveling could begin.

Haechan rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand, staring at you and how intensely you were ignoring him. He reached over and stroked your cheek tenderly, and said, “I love you. It’s gonna hurt so much when you leave me.”

You closed your eyes, your heart clenching in your chest. “Then why are you trying to make me leave?”

“To give myself some control over the pain. Maybe.”

You turned your head and looked at him. His hair had grown longer over the summer, its natural jet black. It was cute; falling into his eyes, hiding them behind fluffy strands. You brushed some back with your fingertips so he couldn’t hide. Then you reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his.

Haechan smiled softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. “You’re my best friend. I’ll be next to you in a nursing home.”

“Will you still kiss me if I have no teeth?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Heck yes. That would be hilarious.”

Both of you laughed at the sudden mental image of you and Haechan as two little old people sucking each other’s faces.

The rest of the world melted away. Your summer wasn’t coming to an end. It was just another night spent from home inside Haechan’s tent. If you didn’t think too hard, you could convince yourself nothing had changed.

Nothing was over.

You talked for ages, about everything. Like always. The light beyond the tent died and everything went dark, prompting Haechan to light a familiar lantern beside the sleeping bags. Soon, the ambience shifted from birds chirping to crickets singing.

When the atmosphere changed, so did the gravity inside the tent.

He was good at talking you away from the edge. Haechan made you laugh hard enough you forgot your anger and sadness, and he started stealing kisses between words. His hand occasionally traced patterns on the bit of your exposed stomach until it slipped under your shirt and got comfortable palming your breast. That’s when you began initiating kisses and running your fingers through his hair.

Kissing overtook conversation. You were immune to all the pain when his lips were on yours and you wanted more, wanted to overdose on the feeling until your heart was made of stone.

Haechan was my family. He was the only home I’d ever known, the only person who loved me unconditionally like my parents were supposed to. Soul mates aren’t always romantic. Maybe they’re just the person that loves you despite everything.

There was a little hitch in his breath as Haechan deepened the kiss, his arms heavy around you. He needed it too, needed to feel loved again before it was all over.

Your lashes fluttered as Haechan settled on top of you, abandoning your lips to suck and nibble at your neck. Your hands were on his shoulders, having been pulling him to you impatiently. His leg wedged between your thighs, pressing against your sex.

Haechan tugged at your clothes, undressing you while he bruised the base of your neck with his lips and teeth. When you yanked off his clothes and finally felt his naked body against yours, you moaned into his mouth and tangled your fingers in his long hair.

It was so familiar and comforting. With Haechan, everything was okay. Nothing could hurt me here.

He seemed in no rush to touch you where you really wanted him to. Typical. Haechan always dragged things out and made it last. He knew you had all the time in the world and was in no hurry to plow through it. Pun intended.

Haechan sucked your nipple into his mouth and pinched the other with his fingers. You bit your lip and squirmed under him, feeling his hard cock against your thigh. You hooked your legs on his hips and flexed, bringing him flush against you for good measure.

You flipped your positions and Haechan let you, holding your waist as you rolled onto him, straddling his lap. He kissed you even deeper, running his hands up and down your back while you cradled his face and tried to snatch all the air from his lungs.

Haechan broke from the kiss to ask playfully, “Have you been writing about sex in the book?”

You were breathing heavily, flushed and dazed from his kisses. “Yeah,” you rasped, running your hand through your hair to get it out of your face.

Haechan tugged you back down and trailed kisses over your jaw before whispering in your ear, “I need to give you some new material.”

“As if you haven’t given me plenty already.”

“I have competition,” he retorted, brushing his hands to your breasts. “Jeno is a slut with a dragon dick. You have a fat crush on Mark and he railed the shit out of you.”

You snickered. “Who are you then?”

Haechan steered you up and shuffled down until his arms were around your thighs and his mouth was inches from your sex, and purred, “I’ll always be the one that gave you your first nut.”

Though you were about to laugh at that, the next sound out of your mouth was a whimper as Haechan tongued at your folds. You were mindful not to put too much of your weight on him, but his hands on your hips said otherwise, bringing you down to meet his lips.

The sight of his face buried in your pussy, between your thighs, was so arousing you felt your walls clench on nothing.

“Fuck.” You let your head fall back and closed your eyes. Reaching for his hands on your hips, you held on tight and joked breathlessly, “The book will give us more groupies than the band ever did.”

Haechan stopped sucking on your clit long enough to retort, “God, I hope so.”

An involuntary shudder shot through you when he latched back onto your bundle of nerves. You squeezed his hands even tighter, eyes winching closed. Another moan tumbled off your tongue. Haechan didn’t play when he was sucking you dry.

It was probably one of the few things in life he took seriously.

“Mm,” you hummed, trembling when his tongue swirled around your entrance before returning to your clit. “So good, baby.”

Haechan made a noise against your cunt. “You know, you only call me baby when I’m getting you off.”

“Do I?”

“I like it.”

“I like when you touch me,” you said in barely a whisper, biting your lip lest you go into juicy detail.

Haechan would have loved that.

You were so far gone already. Your hands found his hair, your hips bucking against his face. Little nothings mingled with your moans. Haechan kneaded your hips, but as you got closer, he reached up to grab and squeeze your breasts instead.

It felt so good you felt guilty that you weren’t touching him. Releasing his hair, you lilted back and wrapped your hand around his hard cock, feeling it twitch the moment your fingers made contact.

Haechan broke away from your pussy and scolded, “Don’t touch me.”

“Why not?”

“Only think about yourself right now. Be selfish. You’ve earned it.”

You swallowed and let Haechan guide your hands back into his hair, and he bit the inside of your thigh as a warning to do as he said. Your body tensed when he lapped at your clit again and you decided to obey. You would be selfish.

Haechan smirked when you arched away from him, propping yourself over him on your arms and riding his face. He reeled a hand back and slapped your ass, the best way he knew how to convey to you that you were giving him exactly what he wanted.

He lapped at the arousal between your folds, his tongue teasing your bundle of nerves again. Haechan knew that was your weak spot, where you were most sensitive. If he played his cards right, he could have you screaming for mercy from the overstimulation.

“Right there,” you panted, voice pitching higher. "I'm close."

For once in his life, Haechan said nothing. He ate you out like a man starved, suddenly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. He sucked on you until your legs shook and you whimpered his name.

And when orgasm hit, you went higher than where the cocaine took you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body shuddered, and you chanted, “Fuck,” like a mantra.

Haechan kept going until you pushed frantically at his head.

“Stop. Stop. Stop,” you begged, fisting his hair and finally earning yourself a reprieve.

Haechan chuckled, slipping his arms under your legs and tossing you to the side. You gladly rolled to your back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, waiting to come back to your senses.

You felt his hand smoothing its way up your thigh before cupping your sex, feeling all the slick he’d gotten out of you and muttering, “Fuck,” under his breath. His fingers prodded into your pulsing pussy, hooking at your sweet spot, and you writhed, sensitive.

“Put a condom on,” you told him hurriedly, still trying to catch your breath.

As you came down from the high, Haechan crawled over to the other side of the tent and returned with a packet, tearing it open with his teeth. You watched him fit the condom on his hard cock and you spread your legs invitingly when he moved between your legs, grasping your knees and pushing them toward your chest, bending you in half.

You rested your hands on his hips and drew him toward you when he slipped his cock into your entrance and stroked in slow. “Mm, baby, you’re so good,” you mewled dramatically. “The biggest ever.”

Haechan, whose eyes had been on his cock sinking into your tight cunt, tossed his long hair out of his eyes and said, “Fuck you,” with a tiny snort.

You grinned and sank your fingers deeper into the flesh of his hips, tugging him toward you in tandem with his movements. He loved when you left scratches and bruises in his skin. A reminder of you he got to carry around with him for days after.

“Kiss me,” Haechan whispered, rocking into you harder.

Without missing a beat, you lifted your head to meet his lips, but his hands wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the ground. A noise of frustration left you, because you couldn’t close the rest of the distance with him holding you down.

Nipping at your lips, he taunted, “What’s the matter?”

Rather than answer, you moaned as his cock bottomed out in you again. Your face tensed with pleasure, every thrust making your toes curl. You were still raw from orgasm and his cock hitting you right made a shudder race through you.

Haechan went still. When you peered up at him in confusion, he smirked and said, “Fuck me.”

You hooked your thighs higher up his hips and started grinding into him. Haechan looked down to watch you bouncing on his dick, sucking in a breath when your pace grew more hurried and desperate.

“Please move,” you whined, eyes closed. Sweat formed at your back with the effort, your body burning.

“You’re doing fine without me.”

“I’m never okay without you,” you said breathlessly, out of your mind with lust and emotions. The two were colliding.

Haechan draped over you, slipping his fingers into your hair, and fucked into you at a ruthless pace for that, making you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out.

The last thing you wanted was his name echoing through the woods. You would never live it down.

“Oh god. Oh fuck.” You clawed at his back, trying to find purchase.

Haechan gathered you in his arms and you sat up face-to-face, straddling his lap. Haechan kissed at your neck, crushing you in his arms. You rode him, his hips matching your rhythm.

“Come for me,” Haechan purred in your ear, saying your name silkily. “Again.”

It wasn’t fair that he could snap his fingers and your body would answer. You were so close and had been together for so long, your skin knew his touch. Your heart gave in to his every desire and whim.

Ecstasy spilled over and a moan caught in your throat.

Haechan held you even tighter as you came, biting his lip as he felt you clamp down on his cock, holding his breath to stave off his own orgasm until you sighed his name and slumped against him.

You buried your face in his shoulder and whimpered as his thrusts turned ragged, his groans pitching higher until he released into the condom. You rubbed his back and kissed his neck while he came down, lowering you to the floor gently and landing at your side.

The two of you breathed heavily. Sex broke something in you both that you needed. It felt final.

Like it was the last time.

Haechan discarded the condom and crawled back to you, getting a blanket out from one of the sleeping bags to drape over your bodies. You nestled closer to him, ready to doze off in his arms. Haechan settled a hand on your thigh, the other behind his head. Your eyes fluttered closed as his chest rose and fell with his breaths.

“I’ll never stop fighting,” you whispered with resolve. “And you shouldn’t either.”

He said nothing, but pressed a kiss to your temple.

The next day, the van was on its way home. You sat in the passenger seat as Jeno drove, just as you had when summer - and the trip - started.

When Jeno parked at a rest area, you ventured inside to look for a payphone.

Haechan leaned back against the van, arms folded.

Mark wandered over to him, asking in a soft voice, “How is she?”

“Ask her yourself,” Haechan retorted.

Mark frowned. “You know her better than anyone.”

Haechan’s eyes darkened as he said, “You hurt her and I’ll kill you.”

Mark opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Jeno, who had been hovering close by, smirked at the exchange and murmured, “Says the one person actually capable of hurting her.”

Haechan shot him a glare. “She loves Mark more than she ever loved us,” he started.

Jeno was quick to cut him off, “You know damn well that’s not true.”

“Maybe she’s right about us,” Mark spoke up, glancing between them. “Maybe we should stay together and try to make it work.”

Haechan let his head fall back and groaned. “Pussy power strikes again.”

“Are you done?” Mark snapped. “You are the biggest hypocrite, you know. You’re hoping and praying she’s right. That she makes something happen. You’re trying so hard to look like you don’t care, but you don’t want to lose us.”

Tears filled Haechan’s eyes. His lips pursed.

Jeno cocked his head. “We know that, Mark,” he crooned cutely. “Our Donghyuck cares the most. That’s why he tries so hard to hide it.”

Haechan quickly wiped his cheeks. The tears had escaped too fast. After a pause, getting himself together, Haechan said, “I’m sorry for yesterday. I didn’t mean it.”

“We know that too.” Jeno reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

The two looked at Mark expectantly. His anger faded and he huffed a sigh.

Your voice broke the moment. “Guys!”

“What?” Jeno barked, turning to see you racing across the parking lot toward them.

You could hardly breathe, panting like you’d run a marathon. “They want to publish the book!”

All three of them gaped in perfect sync.

“Are you fucking serious?” Haechan wheezed.

“Yeah,” you said in disbelief, chuckling to yourself. “They want me to keep sending in chapters and they’ll assign me an editor to help organize everything. And then I’ll have to fill in the gaps, but… it’s gonna be a book. An actual book!”

In the next second, you were the meat in a boy sandwich and you couldn't have been happier about it.

Once everything calmed down, Mark shook his head and exclaimed, “This is insane!”

Haechan took your face in his hands and planted a big kiss on your lips with a loud, “Mwah!” Which made Jeno whine, “I was gonna kiss her and I can’t now!”

“I’ll kiss you too,” Haechan taunted, wagging his tongue and reaching for Jeno, making the drummer turn on his heels and run for his life.

You giggled as Haechan chased after him and Mark took the opportunity to wrap you in his arms and bury his face in your neck, enveloping you in a hug. You held him tightly and closed your eyes, breathing him in.

“You did it,” Mark whispered, saying your name in reverence. “You made this summer count for something.”

Tears pricked your eyes.

Haechan and Jeno traipsed back over, pushing and shoving each other with big grins on their faces.

With the celebration winding down, you looked at your boys one-by-one and said, “There’s a couple of conditions.”

Jeno grumbled. Haechan arched a brow.

“I won’t write the last chapters and send them in until you get clean,” you said, pointing at Jeno.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious.” You planted your feet and stared him down. “You think I’m going to risk this book being a hit and us getting a huge payday just for you to blow it all on blow?”

Jeno sulked.

“It’s a fair condition,” Haechan said lightly.

“I know it is!”

You waited patiently.

“I’m not an addict,” Jeno insisted. “I am a casual user.”

“Then you can casually stop,” you smarted.

He made a face. After a tiny lull, Jeno handed you the bag from his back pocket and you didn’t hesitate to cram it into your own. Its next destination was the nearest toilet.

You turned to Mark. “There’s a condition for you too.”

Mark grimaced nervously. “I’m listening.”

“You have to do what you want with your own life. Not what your parents want.”

Mark visibly relaxed. His eyes went soft. Something happy and content washed over him. “But I don’t know what I want.”

You shrugged. “You have time to figure it out. Change your mind as many times as it takes until you find what makes you happy.”

“Okay,” said Mark, smiling.

Finally, you turned to Haechan. “And you.”

He tilted his head and puckered up his lips.

“You’re not your father, Haechan.”

“You sure? I was pretty quick to cut you down.”

You scoffed. “Last I checked, I’m still standing. Bitch.”

Haechan chuckled.

“She’s right,” Jeno said, draping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to press a kiss to your cheek. “We shouldn’t give up on the band already.”

“The book could make some people check us out,” Mark added, optimistic again.

All eyes were on Haechan. He smiled bashfully and said, “And if it doesn’t - if it all fails - at least we’ll know we tried.”

“No regrets,” you finished with a nod.

Haechan suddenly reached into his pocket and handed you a balled-up page.

The missing chapter of your memoir.

You gaped when you realized what it was. “I should have known you took it.”

“I couldn’t handle someone talking so highly about me,” he said under his breath.

“Oh. Only you’re allowed to speak highly of yourself?”

Mark and Jeno laughed.

Haechan did too. Then he sobered and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for believing in me.”

You gave him a puzzled look. “Haechan, you started the band. Don’t you remember?”

“No?”

“We met in detention in eighth grade,” you reminded him, to which Haechan bobbed his head. “You noticed Jeno drumming his hands. You said you saw Mark playing acoustic by himself during lunch. And you heard me singing under the bleachers when I skipped gym.”

“I forgot all that,” Haechan mumbled, his eyes twinkling like they shone with stars. “Damn, I really gotta quit drinking.”

Mark moved to your free side and said, “Yeah, dude. We’re all here because of you.”

Haechan looked at his three best friends, his family, smiling at him, and it almost broke him on the spot. He slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

Jeno laughed loudly. “I’ll be damned. All you’ve ever wanted is to be the center of attention and now that you’ve got it, you don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Yep,” Haechan said with a sheepish grin.

You closed the distance and hugged him, patting the back of his head. “It ain’t over till it’s over,” you whispered for his ears alone and Haechan let go the breath he’d been holding, releasing all the tension and pain in his chest.

Once you parted, Mark reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. You melted into his familiar arms and flushed when he said, “You are, by far, the greatest person I have ever met.”

“Stop it.”

“Okay.”

“Wait.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and lifted to your toes. “Maybe a little more.”

Mark smiled as his lips met yours in a chaste kiss that he poured his all into.

A kiss that was dramatically interrupted by Jeno, knocking into Mark enough to jostle you both. “It’s not your job to save us, you know,” he chided sweetly.

Yes, it was and it always would be. Because they saved me first.

“Hey, I’m just an instrument of the power of rock and roll,” you said, putting a hand on Jeno’s chest and giving him a playful shove.

“I take back every compliment I’ve ever said to you,” he joked, tickling your sides.

You laughed.

The four of you gabbed and teased each other for what felt like an eternity. The air was lighter. The sun a was a little brighter. Your boys were smiling again and you felt the pieces of your heart snapping back into place.

Hope is a powerful thing. A gentle promise that maybe - just maybe - we could all be happy and whole.

“We’re burning daylight,” Jeno eventually said.

You exclaimed, “Let’s hit the road,” and it was the first time you said it without dread.

Hopping into the van after you, Mark stuck his head out and called, “Don’t forget the trash.”

Jeno proceeded to scoop Haechan up in his burly arms and carried him to the van.

“Very funny,” Haechan deadpanned, but he couldn’t help but grin.

Smiling till your cheeks hurt, you got in the driver’s seat and fired up the engine, pulling out of the rest area and onto the highway, toward the new life awaiting you and your boys.

Everything would change for us. The drive home wasn’t some miserable journey we’d been fearing. It was the final chapter of our summer, but only the beginning of our story.

#nct #nct smut #haechan #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #haechan x reader

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bigskyandthecoldgun · 6 months

Text

based on this

steve's pov | dragon's pov

Her Dad has always been very lonely.

Even from when he’d found her in that horrible, dirty bush back when she’d been but a kitten, the bright, comforting smile on his face had been tinged with a sort of sadness so deep it made her mewl with sympathy, digging her scraggly little paws into his shirt as he’d picked her up, using the last of her strength to nuzzle into his chest. Dad had stayed sad in the strange, clean room with the person in the white coat as they had explained something to him, casting glances down at her as she’d struggled to hold herself up on shaky legs on the metal surface they’d placed her on.

Her fur had been cleaned, she’d been poked at and prodded and felt a whole lot better, and when Dad had taken her into the big house and placed her gently on the bed, telling her tales about someone named Nancy and her wit and her pretty face, and someone named Jonathan and his ability to keep up with the Nancy and make her happy, and how Dad was glad to have someone to talk to about all of it, that smile was back. The sad one. She hadn’t been given a name yet, but her Dad had given her care she hadn’t ever known, food and medicine and affection, and she loved him for it.

The Nancy and the Jonathan, whoever they are, are determinedly not loved by her, she’d decided that night, curled up on her Dad's chest as sleep overtook her.

The day after, the small boy, who she affectionately calls Curly in the privacy of her own mind while Dad calls him the Dustin, comes over and gets far too close to her. She panics and swats at his nose—claws sheathed, because he is smaller than Dad, and he isn’t the Nancy or the Jonathan—and he shrieks, a delighted smile on his face that isn’t tinged with loneliness like her Dad's. She hisses at him from the comfort of Dad's shoulder, a little raspy, and Curly makes a face.

“Her breath should be considered a weapon,” he tells Dad, and then a look of even more delight crosses Curly’s face. “Oh! You should name her Dragon! Fierce little monster with a breath weapon, it makes so much sense, Steve!”

Curly goes on rambling until Dad finally cuts him off. “Okay! Fine, her name’s Dragon,” he relents. “Happy?”

Dragon is okay with that name, if only because Dad's smile is not as sad when he tries to hide it from Curly as the boy whoops.

She grows big and strong, broad and intimidating, and Dad tells her every day how soft and shiny her fur is, how she’s such a sweet girl, how he thinks it’s funny when she roars at trespassers in their home. And, of course, the trespassers are many in number and often come into their home with little protesting from Dad, much to Dragon’s dismay. She loves her Dad and only her Dad. She likes the rest well enough, sure, but Dad is special.

Dragon spends the majority of her time practically attached to Dad. He gives her many pets and lets her sit atop his shoulders or his chest or his lap, always ready to guard him from the hands of other people. Dad is her human, not theirs. Even as they try to win her favor with treats and pets, Dragon turns her nose up at them with a hiss, her hackles raised. She needs not the fleeting affections of the smaller humans, or even the Nancy or the Jonathan, who she meets for the first time when they show up on her Dad's doorstep, telling him how they’re here to take the smaller ones away.

“Hi, Steve,” the girl says, and Dragon clambers her way up to her Dad's shoulders, making herself as large and imposing as possible. “Jonathan and I are here to take the boys home.”

Her Dad radiates sadness. Loneliness. The girl must be the Nancy.

“Aw, who’s this?” the boy—he must be the Jonathan—asks, reaching up towards Dragon, which is a definite no-no. He needs to learn. Dragon hisses in warning before swatting his hand, claws out, because Dad smells so dreadfully of loneliness that it makes Dragon’s heart ache. The Jonathan draws his hand back with a wince. Dragon purrs. “Ow.”

“Shit, sorry, I should’ve warned you,” Dad says, and Dragon feels indignant at the fact the Nancy and the Jonathan have made him feel as though he needs to apologize. “Dragon’s not exactly friendly.”

Dragon begs to differ. She’s plenty cordial with the children. She doesn’t even take her claws out to swat their hands away when they try to pet her. Petting her is Dad's job, not theirs. “That’s okay,” the Nancy says. She looks at Dragon and smiles. Dragon’s ears flatten against her head as she hisses again, and the Nancy’s smile falters. “Uh, sorry, Dragon. Are they ready to go?”

She aims the question at Dad, who nods and steps aside to let the parade of small ones out of the house. “See you guys around,” Dad says as he shuts the door, and he scoops Dragon from his shoulders, holding her out and up at arms’ length as he clicks his tongue and shakes his head fondly. “What am I gonna do with you?”

Dragon mewls. You’re welcome, Dad.

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t like people, I get it,” Dad sighs, tucking her against his chest.

She nuzzles at his jaw and meows again. I like people well enough. I just don’t like the Nancy and the Jonathan. They make you smile bad.

“I’m really the only person you can handle, huh?” Dad muses, scratching behind Dragon’s ears in the best of ways. Dragon purrs, making biscuits against his shoulder. “Little beast. Tiny baby creature. You’re the best.”

Dragon is neither tiny nor a baby anymore, but Dad seems intent on calling her his baby, which she doesn’t mind. She gives him a quiet mrrp and nudges him again. Make friends that make you smile good.

“You’re gonna have to learn how to deal with people sooner or later, Draggy. I think I wanna start dating again,” her Dad says.

She comes to learn that ‘dating’ means bringing strangers into their house and closing the door to the den. Dragon makes her protests very known, yowling and scratching at the door when strange noises start up behind it, hissing and swatting and biting at the strangers when they get too close to her, and getting between Dad and the trespassers at every opportunity. None of the strangers make his smile any less lonely. If anything, they only serve to make it worse, and none of them seem to realize it.

The only person that Dragon comes to really like is the Robin, who she likes to call Dots, because of all the little dots on her face. Dots never tries to push her into letting her pet her, keeps her hands to herself with Dad, and makes Dad's smile a lot less lonely. “She’s so sweet,” Dots says one day as Dragon sprawls herself out on Dad's lap, belly exposed for him to rub at with his blunt nails, just the way she likes. “Do you think she’d let me pet her?”

“Dragon doesn’t really let people pet her,” Dad says, and Dragon lets out a little mew of agreement. For some reason, it makes Dots and Dad laugh. “I mean, you can try, but it’s kind of a miracle she tolerates you enough to let you sit next to me.”

“I don’t wanna bother her,” Dots says, and Dragon promptly decides that she’s her favorite of all the strange people her Dad brings to the house.

Human litters are strange, Dragon has discovered. She can only assume that the humans, too stupid to name themselves, have roles that correspond to the strange words they call themselves, the same across the board. Each litter must have the Steve—her Dad's title among the group—who clearly leads the rest of them, the Dustin, who is the Steve’s apprentice, the Erica, who is second in command, the Mike, who is in charge of scowling, the Lucas, who is the Max’s companion and the one in charge of games with orange balls, the Max, who is the Lucas’ companion and the one who makes funny comments, the Will, who is in charge of breaking up arguments, and the El, who is the superhero. The Robin, of course, is in charge of being the Steve’s best friend. The Jonathan and the Nancy are still of little concern to Dragon, but she has determined they are in charge of moving the children in and out of the house. Again, totally unimportant.

The El and the Will don’t come around much anymore, and Dad says that this is because they are in California. Dragon doesn’t know what California is, but it’s a long word, which she usually only hears in reference to sicknesses. Dragon hopes the El and the Will get better soon. The Jonathan has also stopped coming around, and it’s curious that this development seems to make the Nancy’s smile just a bit like Dad's now.

Dragon had been entirely unaware that a human litter needs an Eddie until one comes barreling in one afternoon in the cold months, throwing his things unceremoniously onto the couch in the TV room and shouting Dad's title into the house. Dad is not home yet. He is off with Dots at what he calls ‘work.’ Dragon postures herself as big and scary as possible, ears flat against her head as the tall man with dark hair and clothes and dangly metal walks down the hallway, towards the kitchen. And—the audacity astounds her—he starts poking around in the cabinets, making himself a meal! How rude!

Dragon yowls, low and throaty, posted up in the doorway to corner him. “Oh, shit, Steve has a cat?” the man asks, crouching down but making no move to coax her closer. “Hey, buddy, what’s your name?”

Dragon blinks at him and meows. You’re a stranger in my home. Why would I tell you?

“Ah. Mrawr. Lovely name,” the man says, nodding. He purses his lips and an airy noise comes from him, kind of like that metal thing Dad uses on the stove every now and then. “You are huge. Not that that’s a bad thing. You’re very pretty.”

Preening a little, Dragon lets out a little mrrp of gratitude. Yes, I’m very pretty. My Dad takes such good care of me. Now, go away.

The door opens again. Aha! Finally, Dad is home, and they will be rid of this intruder, the stranger who hadn’t been told about Dragon, so he must be lost, he must be looking for a different human litter’s Steve. He isn’t scowling, so he must not be a Mike or a Max. His hair is curly, so perhaps he’s a Dustin? He is looking for a Steve, after all. Or perhaps he is a Robin, by that logic.

“Eddie! Hey! What’s up, man?” Dad asks, and—

Oh, his smile is so bright and finally free of the loneliness that plagues it.

Dragon has only ever seen him smile like that once before, when Dots and Curly had been at the house, the three of them playing some kind of game with the Erica. She needs to keep that version of Dad's smile around. It’s the best one, and far too rare. The rest of Dad's litter smiles like that all the time, and it wouldn’t do if Dad continues to only show that wonderful smile on special occasions. She dutifully steps aside as Dad moves into the kitchen.

This Eddie is the key, Dragon realizes. The key to making her Dad not so lonely anymore.

Dad and the Eddie embrace. Dragon has never seen Dad as relaxed as he is in the Eddie’s hold, save for when he’s asleep and Dragon is guarding his slumbering form. “Good to see you, dude,” the Eddie says. “You got any coffee?”

“You and your coffee,” Dad says, shaking his head as he pulls back, going all around the kitchen in a routine Dragon’s only seen in the mornings.

As her Dad and the Eddie—Dragon decides to call him Ink after one of Dad's comments about the strange black shapes on the Eddie’s arms—talk idly and sip at their coffees, Dragon observes. Dad has never seemed so at ease, so happy. There isn’t a trace of the loneliness anymore, not a single sad crease in his forehead. Ink even makes him laugh. So much, too! And Dad looks at Ink like he’d looked at the Nancy that first time she’d showed up on their doorstep. Wanting. Wistful.

Dragon makes a decision.

She will make sure Ink and Dad are never separated. She will convince Ink to spend more time with her Dad. She will keep her Dad happy. Her Dad will never be lonely again, not if Dragon has anything to say about it.

After a while of talking, Ink nods down at her. “You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you how cool your cat is,” he says. Dragon takes that as her cue to get up on her Dad's shoulders. She shudders at the prospect, but if she lets Ink pet her the next time he tries, surely Dad will realize that he must stay with them. She gives her Dad a reassuring purr and nudges his cheek with her face, and Ink smiles. “Dragon. A fitting name for a majestic beast.”

“I don’t know why she’s so unfriendly,” Dad sighs, reaching up to scratch behind Dragon’s fluffy ears. Dragon purrs even harder. When Ink makes a strange noise and reaches up to join her Dad in scritching behind Dragon’s ears, her Dad takes a step back. No! That’s not the plan! “Woah, careful, man, don’t want you to get clawed.”

The big smile on Ink’s face gets smaller, but somehow feels more private. “Cats don’t really like me, anyway, I don’t mind a little scratch or two,” he says, stepping closer to offer his hand up for Dragon to sniff.

Dragon doesn’t even need to sniff him, though he smells strongly of outdoors. He’ll smell enough like Dad sooner or later. She just pushes her face against his knuckles. Pet me, you imbecile. Show Dad how you will love us.

She even keeps purring to drive the point home. “Holy shit, she doesn’t do that with anybody,” Dad says. Yes! He’s getting it!

They continue their conversation, and Dragon feels herself getting shifted into her Dad's arms, so she nuzzles against him. Dad is talking about things that don’t interest her, strangers and the like, so she meows pointedly and licks his face. Tell the Eddie he needs to stay. We don’t have one yet.

Finally, the conversation points to her in a favorable way. “Well, maybe you just have to find somebody she likes,” Ink says, scratching under her chin. She meows again and squints, tilting her chin up. She’s really going all out here. Dad better get her point. Ink makes a strange sort of sound. “Aw, see? She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she’ll have a soft spot for someone other than yourself soon enough.”

“Draggy,” Dad coos in his play-voice, “will you please let Daddy get laid? Be all sweet and good instead of biting people’s ankles?”

Dragon doesn’t know what any of that means, but it clearly makes Ink horrified enough to drag the conversation elsewhere, which, again—annoying. Neither of them are getting her point, not even when Dad shifts her so that her tummy’s facing up and she lets Ink give her belly rubs. Belly rubs! Those are not given lightly, and Dad must realize it, because Ink comes over a lot more often after that.

She always makes sure Ink and Dad are sitting together, lets Ink pet her—and, admittedly, he’s pretty good at it—and watches to make sure Dad's smile never turns lonely. And it doesn’t, not with Ink around. Dragon changes nothing about how she interacts with other people, but she gets clingy to the Eddie, trying to show her Dad that he should be, too. Dad even lets the Eddie into the den, lets him lay on the pillows beside him as they talk and talk about things that Dragon doesn’t understand and doesn’t particularly care to.

But Ink is not close enough. On one memorable occasion, Dragon even paws at his arm until he gets the hint to scoot closer, and she thinks that if her Dad could purr, he would. Dad doesn’t get the hint, though, even still, because even though Dragon is pretty sure the Eddie of the human litter is supposed to provide love to the Steve, Dad doesn’t seem to realize he can. Dragon even lets Dots get in a scratch to her chin, just to show Dad that if even she can let other people in, so can he.

“You are killing me, you little menace,” Dad tells her one night when Ink isn’t in the room, but he’s still in the house. “Why do you like Eddie so much, huh? I mean, sure, he’s funny and he’s nice, but it’s not like you can understand what he says, you don’t speak English.”

Dragon meows indignantly at him from where she sits on his lap. I understand enough to know that this Eddie is the Eddie you should keep.

“Yeah, yeah, I see your point. Eddie is pretty great,” her Dad mutters.

Dragon yawns, because the little song and dance her Dad is doing about his silly feelings is exhausting, and starts making biscuits on his thighs, then purrs. He is. And you deserve that. You should not be lonely, and he makes you un-lonely.

“Okay, so he’s handsome, too, but I don’t see how that’s appealing for you, you’re a cat,” Dad huffs. Dragon watches him pause, then his face goes all pink, and he looks funny. “Well, that’s—it doesn’t appeal to me, either, I guess.”

Dragon gives him an inquisitive little mrrowp? in response. What does handsome mean? You should let him give you whatever pets for humans are.

Her Dad makes air push out of his mouth for a while. “Look, Draggy, you gotta find someone else you like. Eddie can’t be the only other person you can tolerate, it’s just not realistic,” he tells her. Rude. She tolerates everybody.

Dragon roars. The Eddie loves you, so I love him. What’s so hard to understand about this? You love him, too, if you would stop being obtuse about it.

Dad has the audacity to shush her, even if he does give her some pets. “Yeah, I know, and I like having him around, too—”

“Talking to your cat about me, Stevie?” Ink asks.

Dragon makes a whole big show of letting Ink give her tummy rubs, keeping her eyes on Dad the whole time. See? You could have this, too. Just be brave. But, unfortunately, Dad doesn’t get the hint, because while he puts Ink in clothes scented by him, Ink sleeps in one of the dens for guests rather than in Dad's den. Fine. If Dad won’t get the message, maybe his Eddie will.

She sits outside of the door to the guest den Ink sleeps in and yowls and cries until he comes out to pick her up and put her on Dad's bed. “Please tell your daughter to stop screaming at me,” he says, and Dragon gets dragged into her Dad's lap. The Eddie turns to leave, which is outrageous! All of that work, for what? Dragon lets out an indignant cry, and Ink turns back around. “Oh my God, what?!”

Dragon gives him a little chirp and trots to the edge of the bed, nosing at his hand. Sleep in here, Dad is so lonely when he sleeps.

“Draggy, let Eddie go to bed,” Dad protests. Dragon resists the temptation to tell him to stay out of it, because he is still her Dad and must be respected.

“Yes, Dragon, I need my beauty sleep,” Ink tells her, which is further infuriating, because Dad already thinks he’s pretty! He stares at Ink all the time! When the Eddie turns to leave again, Dragon yowls again and takes his hand into her mouth to try and drag him towards Dad. Ink looks to Dad, probably for guidance. The Steve is the leader, after all. “Does she want me to stay here?”

They exchange more words, which is a terrible bore, but Ink clambers into the bed, so Dragon is triumphant. They’re not close enough, though, not as close as the humans on the TV that make Dad sigh wistfully, so Dragon pushes against Ink’s back and doesn’t stop pushing until he scoots a little closer. Still, it’s not enough.

“She keeps pushing at my back,” the Eddie says. “Why is your cat so strong, dude?”

Dragon is so busy being pleased at the comment that she nearly misses what her Dad says in response. “I can take her out of the—”

She lets out a panicked screech, as loud as she can. No! You’ll never do this on your own! I have to help, so I have to be here until you figure it out!

Neither of them make any further threats to remove her, so she just keeps idly nudging at Ink’s back. After so much chatter, really, humans have got to be more direct with each other, the Eddie takes initiative, leaning close to her Dad's face. Finally, finally, they look the way the humans on TV do, and Dragon quietly makes her way off of the bed as the strange noises that usually mean she gets locked out of the room begin, meowing when there’s a pause.

I will stay out of your way, Ink. Please make him happy.

Dragon heads down the hall and curls up on the bed of the guest den, too tired from her matchmaking efforts to be kept up by the increase of noises from the room next door.

To be given her proper credit the next morning, she politely snatches up one of the shirts on the floor—the one that smells like Dad but the one Ink had been wearing—and waits for her Dad to see her up on the bed before swishing her tail smugly. When Ink sees, he cackles. Dragon can tell that he will live up to his title. The Eddie will make the Steve happy, just as he’s meant to.

Honestly, Dad should listen to her more often. Dragon has very good ideas.

#dragon's pov as promised #she thinks they're too dumb to come up with names so she names the ones she likes best!!!#thinking of doing a sequel where nancy is enlisted for catsitting and it goes. Very Interestingly #we will see #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #robin buckley #there is nothing more important than platonic stobin

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soleius · 1 year

Text

🌱 astro observation III;

back with a mini astro observation post ;w;

hope you all are having an amazing day <33

nearly all earth rising placements i’ve noticed have rbf until someone talks to them and suddenly they look more welcoming and very approachable; they have the warmest smiles imo

fire rising placements radiate this good energy its so hard to explain but thats why people are so naturally drawn to them whenever they go, you can feel their friendly and charming aura

dear sagittarius rising/sun/mars placements, do you build muscle particularly fast?

sun square moon aspects really are in constant back and forth between listening to their heart versus their mind. they may feel like their needs can’t be met at the same time, having to choose or prioritize one over another.

moon ascendant aspects not being able to hide their emotions for better or worst

natives with lots of square aspects in their natal chart tend react in a calm manner despite all the chaos, because they’re in constant conflict within themselves

gemini in the big three are always down for anything, especially when it comes to opportunity to connect with people and making memories

scorpio moons being fully aware of their intense emotions and only sharing a fraction of how they truly feel

you’ll never know what pisces sun’s/stelliums are thinking, feeling or doing until you straight up ask them or they give you a life update

saturn in the 4th house natives simply amazed and in awe of other peoples relationship dynamics with their family, with saturn in the 4th growing up may have been in a restrictive environment which could potentially lead to a not so affectionate relationship to both parents or just one. so seeing friends or acquaintances who are affectionate with their family, is just a whole other experience because the native may desire that for their own

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masterofmunson · 2 years

Text

slipping through his fingers

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Ex!Reader AU

Summary: You’ve only wanted the best for Eddie, even if that means you’re no longer in his life.

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: language, ANGST ANGST ANGST GALORE (I’m so sorry) with a happy ending

Author’s Note: this has been brewing in my drafts for a week. I’m so excited for you guys to read this! Just a few notes: this takes place in 1991 so Eddie’s 25 and the reader is 24! Also listen to love of my life by harry styles to get the full angsty experience. Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think! Enjoy xoxo

The moment you step into the bar, you realize how much you regret agreeing to go on a double date with Annie, her boyfriend, and their friend they’ve been wanting to set you up with for the last several weeks.

The bar is way too crowded. You just want to go home and watch some trashy show before going to bed. Your day was especially long today at the hospital and the last thing you wanted was to sit in a crowded bar packed like sardines.

You know you can’t get out of the date. You can’t even pretend to be sick when your best friend knows it’s a fat lie. You just don’t want to be here in this shitty bar with shitty beer and shitty food.

Biting back the sigh threatening to spill from your throat, Annie drags you by the hand through the sea of people to a high top near the stage. She pulls away when she sees Malcolm sitting beside who you can only assume is your date for the night. You hate to admit it, but he’s incredibly handsome.

He’s muscular with thick arms and a broad chest. His face has a perfectly manicured beard and he has the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. His hazelnut-colored hair is styled to perfection and he grins when Annie approaches.

Trailing behind her, you watch Annie kiss Malcom’s cheek affectionately and you stand awkwardly beside a chair. Heat creeps up your ears when the handsome stranger waves at you and you feel like the smile you try and fake turns into a grimace instead. You were already getting off on the wrong foot with this man.

Annie shrieks your name and pulls you towards the table, effectively towards the man across from you. “Seth, this is my best friend,” Annie introduced the two of you, grinning like crazy. You watch the handsome stranger —Seth— stick his hand out for you in a kind introduction. You shake his hand delicately and slide into the chair beside him, facing the stage. You shrug off your jacket and rest your purse on your lap.

“I’ve heard a lot about you!” Seth yelled over the music with a smile. “You’re a nurse, right?”

You nod in reply and glance over at Malcolm. He hops off his chair and hurries over to the bar, ordering drinks for you and Annie. “Yeah! How do you know Annie and Malcom?” you asked over the music.

“I’ve known Malcolm since we were kids. Annie’s doesn’t really stray far from him, as I’m sure you know.”

You smile at his answer and laugh, nodding along. They’ve been together for three years now. You try not to remind yourself of the time when they first started dating. It was the worst time of your life, having gone through an awful breakup.

“Thanks for humoring Annie and meeting me. I know you would probably rather be anywhere but in a crowded bar waiting for a band to play with a guy you just met.”

“There’s a band playing tonight?” you asked, sipping on your beer. ��Annie didn’t tell me.”

Seth grins. “Yeah. It’s some heavy metal band Malcolm and I have been listening to over the last couple years. They’re really talented and they’ve gotten really successful.”

You laugh, quirking a brow at him. “Are you one of their groupies?” you teased.

A soft blush covers his cheeks and he ducks his head down to hide his smile from you. Seth runs a hand through his hair and scratches the back of his neck bashfully. He shakes his head. “No, just a big fan.”

“What’s the band called? Should I start listening to them after tonight?”

“Corroded Coffin.”

You choke on your beer and the wind is knocked out of you. Seth’s eyes widen and he rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Your head spins and you tug at the neck of your blouse, attempting to relieve the tightness in your neck. Your breathing sputters and you stumble off your chair. Annie’s brows pinch together, worry etched across her face.

Grabbing your purse, you hurry through the crowd towards the bathroom. Annie yells after you as you storm into the bathroom, clutching at the counter. The door pushes open and Annie stands in front of you apologetically. She smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of her neck.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was going to be here performing?” you asked her with a frown.

“I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t want to come on the date,” Annie admitted.

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t,” you hissed. “It’s been three years since I’ve seen him and you know how bad our break up was.”

“I know, but like you said, it’s been three years. You’ve moved on, Eddie’s in your past. Can you please come back to the table? Seth really likes you.”

You let out a childish huff and roll your eyes at your best friend. Washing your hands, you leave the bathroom and return to the table. You didn’t care that it’s been three years since the last time you saw Eddie. Every now and then your mind wanders back to him if you let yourself reminisce on the past.

You wonder what he’s been up to over the last three years. When you were together, the band started to take off. They performed at bars and clubs across San Diego nearly every night until a music producer offered to sign them to his record company after one of the sold out shows at a nearby theater.

You were ecstatic, thrilled that Eddie and the band were finally getting the recognition they deserved. Their hard work was finally paying off. They didn’t have to rely on their minimum wage jobs anymore to make a living. They were pursuing their dreams to be rockstars.

Their first tour was a major success, even though they performed in smaller venues across the west coast. They were itching to make it big, even though it took time. You always admired Eddie’s drive to succeed. He never took no for an answer and it got him far in life.

You would go to his shows on the weekends when your schedule allowed. You hated that you couldn’t spend as much time with him as before. You were busy with school and your clinical rounds at the hospital to go weeks on end touring with Eddie.

You wanted a career of your own, which Eddie understood, but the days, weeks, and some times months apart started to put a strain on your relationship. Every phone call you exchanged grew shorter and shorter with each day. When Eddie wouldn’t answer, there was a hole in your heart in the shape of him.

You missed how things were before Corroded Coffin rose to fame. You missed visiting the autobody shop Eddie used to work at and surprising him with lunch. You missed the excitement you felt whenever you snuck him into your dorm room at night. You missed feeling like a priority to him.

Your relationship fell apart on a Wednesday night. You begged Eddie for a date night the night before. You hadn’t had alone time together in a while and you couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date. You bought a brand-new outfit for the occasion and a racy lingerie set as a surprise for him. Eddie promised to meet you at the restaurant when they were done recording, but he never showed up.

The embarrassment you felt as you waited for him for nearly an hour would always stay with you. The pitying stares and soft smiles sent in your direction burned the back of your head as you drank yourself stupid to try and mask the pain you felt.

You left soon after you finished the bottle of wine you bought and hailed a cab home. When you walked through the front door to your apartment, Annie was surprised to see you home so early. You told her you wouldn’t be home until the morning because you planned on spending the night over at Eddie’s apartment.

The moment the door shuts behind you, you drop your purse to the ground and cry pathetically. Annie coaxes you to the couch and pulls you into her arms. You cry against her shoulder, ruining the makeup you perfected just for the date. Your mascara smears and you stain Annie’s t-shirt with your foundation.

Between your sobs, you tell her everything. You tell her how long you waited for Eddie at the restaurant until you made the decision to leave and come home. Your fingers cling to the blanket splayed across her lap as you voice what you’ve been trying to ignore: Eddie’s pulling away from you and you’re no longer a priority of his.

You suppose that you’re also to blame for the fall of your relationship. You and Eddie have been dating for the last four years and fell into a routine when you made the decision to go to California for school to be closer to Eddie. He was thrilled when you told him you would be coming with, and when you made it to California, you hadn’t expected for things to change so drastically between the two of you.

You thought it was going to be easy. It’s you and Eddie. It’s always been the two of you together. Who are you without each other? He’s your other half, your soulmate, the person you can’t live without, but you came to the stunning realization that the dreams you shared about starting your lives together in the future weren’t shared by him. Eddie chased his dream to be a star and left you behind.

For as long as you’ve been together, you were always on the same path. You and Eddie were going the same direction and then you slowly started to divert away from each other. You were holding him back and you only wanted the best for him. As much as you wanted to stay together because it’s what you know and what you’re used to, you have to let Eddie go.

You want different things now. You want something secure, tangible, something of what you had when things were easier and you didn’t feel second best. Eddie would always want more for the band and he would do anything to get it. You wouldn’t get in the way of his dreams.

Wiping away your tears, you let out a shaky breath and walk to the bathroom to take a warm shower. When you’re done getting ready for the night, you lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and there’s a soft knock on your bedroom door.

“Eddie’s here,” Annie murmured, poking her head through your door. “I can tell him you’re asleep if you don’t want to see him.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” you sighed, kicking your sheets off your legs and climbing out of bed.

Walking down the hall to the front door, you open it and slip outside. Eddie smiles sheepishly at you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. He rocks back on his heels anxiously and bends down to kiss your cheek.

“I’m so sorry I missed date night,” he apologized. “I lost track of time and Jeff came up with this incredible song idea for the next album and we just had to finish it. I can’t wait—”

“Eddie, stop,” you interrupted firmly, pushing a hand against his chest in order to create space between the two of you. Eddie’s soft smile crumbles and turns into a frown instead. He reaches out to touch you and you take a step away from him. The silence weighs heavily on your shoulders and you let out a huff. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable. If you didn’t do it now, it would only make things harder. “I think we should break up.”

Your heart drops to the depths of your stomach as the words escape your mouth. Your throat tightens and you feel like there’s cotton in your cheeks. The words hang over Eddie like a dark cloud as he digests your words. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. It’s like you punched Eddie in the gut with the wounded look across his face. He hadn’t expected you to break up with him.

“W-What?” he stuttered as tears glossed over his eyes. “I know I’ve been distant lately, but it’s only because we have the album to work on and tour coming up soon. I can ask David to cut our schedule in half if you’re worried about the distance. I know I haven’t been putting a lot of effort into our relationship lately, but I’m willing to work on it. We can cut some of our hours in the studio so that I—”

“Eddie, stop,” you said again through your tears. You bite your bottom lip and turn to look down the hall of your apartment to avoid looking at him. “I’m not going to ask you to do that. I don’t want to get in the way of your success. I’m holding you back and I don’t want to make you choose.”

“You’re not,” he pleads, closing the gap between you and holding your face between his hands. Eddie rests his forehead against yours as the tears slide down both your cheeks. “You’re the reason why I’m so successful. I wouldn’t be where I am without your love and support. I’m nothing without it. I’m sorry if I make you feel unimportant. I’ve been so wrapped up in Corroded Coffin that I’ve lost sight of you… of us and you’re the best part of my life. Please don’t let us go.”

You blow out a shaky breath and close your eyes momentarily, basking in Eddie’s loving embrace one last time. His rough, calloused fingers brush against your soft cheeks and you breathe him in. The scent of weed, a deep musk, and tobacco fills your nose. You sniff quietly and swallow hard.

“It’s… it’s better this way. You get to live your dream without me holding you back. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you throw your career away in order to be with me. What kind of person would that make me if I did? I have to let you go. I’m sorry,” you whispered through your tears, pulling away from him for the last time. You wipe away your tears with the back of your hand and look at Eddie’s warm brown eyes. They’re broken with tears as he looks at you. “Goodbye, Eddie.”

You turn your back towards him and sneak back into your apartment. Shutting the door behind you, you run to your room and cry yourself to sleep.

“Hey, are you okay?” Seth asked, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder when you return to the table. His bright, blue eyes stare at you curiously.

You laugh nervously and nod in reply. “Yeah, sorry. I think I just ate something funny before I came here,” you lied, downing the rest of your beer. “I’m getting another beer, do you want one?”

Seth nods and you hurry to the bar to grab two drinks. When you walk back to the table and slide into your seat, the house lights dim and the crowd cheers. You hold your breath as the silhouettes of the band appear against the backdrop on the stage before they walk out one at a time.

You feel 18 again when Eddie steps on stage. You suddenly feel like you’re back in Hawkins at the Hideout watching Eddie perform for the first time. You can’t help the look of awe that paints your face as you stare at Eddie.

The three years apart did him well. He’s dressed in a loose fitted t-shirt and his arms are incredibly muscular. Tattoos of all kinds paint his skin and his long hair sits messily on his shoulders. The longer you stare at Eddie, the faster your heart races. Your throat goes dry and blood rushes to the tips of your ears.

You watch with rapt intensity as Eddie walks to the center of the stage. He picks up his guitar and glances back at Gareth. He hits his drumsticks together three times before the thundering sound of Eddie’s guitar roars through the bar. You see Seth glance at you with a grin in the corner of your eye.

You never thought you would see Eddie again. You hadn’t imagined watching him perform again either. You feel like you were stuck in a dream. This was your brain’s way of mocking you. It was a constant reminder that you made the biggest mistake of your life by breaking up with him. It would haunt you forever and you couldn’t dream up what if scenarios had things been different.

By the look on Eddie’s face as he makes his way through the set list, you know you made the right decision. He belonged up on stage. It’s where he thrived. It’s what he was always meant to do. Eddie was always meant to be a rockstar.

It only confirmed what you know to be true: you would’ve held Eddie back had you stayed together. You wonder for a brief second if he’s ever grateful that you broke up with him all those years ago. Who’s to say what would’ve happened if Eddie did ask for the schedule to be cut in half to make more time for you? He probably wouldn’t be here had he done it. “Can we turn the house lights on for just a second?” Eddie asked into the mic as he took a sip of water. “I want to see the beautiful crowd!” the bar patrons and fans alike cheer and the lights turn on seconds later.

Eddie squints at the harsh light filling the room. His eyes scan the bar and he laughs, “I see why the lights are off,” he teased as the crowd laughs at his joke. You don’t bother trying to hide the smile on your face. You watch him look over the audience and then his eyes find yours and you feel time stop.

Your heart thunders against your chest as Eddie sees you for the first time in three years. His eyes widen in shock as he stares at you in disbelief. His doe, brown eyes fill with surprise and awe, his mouth slightly a gap.

Warmth flushes up your neck and across your face the longer he stares at you. You shrink into your chair and smile bashfully at him with a small wave. You ignore the worrying glance Annie gives you and the look of confusion across Seth and Malcolm’s faces.

Eddie stutters into the microphone and tears his eyes away from you. His cheeks flush a deep red and he scratches the back of his neck anxiously. “Uh… anyway!” he said, “It’s been a pleasure being with you all tonight. This is our last song of the night.”

The house lights turn off in favor of the stage lights and the bass thunders against your chest. You feel like you can barely breathe through the entirety of the song. Your ears ring from the loud noise and the sound of Eddie singing in your ear.

When the song ends, they all wave and bow towards the audience as the crowd claps for them. They leave in a cloud of smoke and the lights turn on again. A sigh of relief leaves your throat and you lean back in your chair, taking a large gulp of your second beer of the night. Annie reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.

“You okay?” she asked gently.

You nod, swallowing the alcohol in your throat. “I’m fine, Annie,” you answered.

“Do you… do you know the lead singer?” Seth asked you with a curious gaze.

You swallow hard, considering how to answer. “You could say that,” you really hoped with your short and incredibly vague answer that Seth would drop the subject altogether, but it’s Annie who comes to your rescue.

“Malcolm and I were going to head to his place,” she offers, “would you crazy kids like to take the party there?”

“No, thank though. I’ll finish my beer and head home,” you declined with a polite smile.

“I’ll stay too,” Seth replied.

“You don’t have to,” you told him. “I don’t want to ruin the fun. You can go with; I’ll survive on my own.”

Seth smiles gently at you. “Why would I go when the party’s staying with you?”

God, was that corny. You try and refrain from wincing at him. You hug Annie and Malcolm goodbye and watch them disappear out the door. You really hoped that Seth would’ve gone with them. You wanted to be left alone and wallow in your own self-pity. You weren’t in the mood to be on a date anymore.

You turn your head to the direction of the stage door when you hear it creak open. Gareth, Jeff, and Eddie spill out the back and into the bar. They’re grinning like idiots and as they attempt to walk to the bar counter, Eddie’s immediately surrounded by a small group of women. A bitter smile reaches across your face. It’s good to know that some things haven’t changed since you saw each other last.

Gareth and Jeff squeeze past them and make a bee-line to the bar. The older patrons sitting at the counter shake their hands and congratulate them on their good performances as beers slide into each of their hands. With their backs to the bar, they stare out into the crowd and Jeff’s eyes light up when they land on you. You watch him nudge Gareth in the side and nod towards you before they walk the small distance from the bar to your table.

“It’s so good to see you!” Jeff gushed, pulling you in for a hug you weren’t expecting. He leans back with his hands on your shoulders to get a better look at you. “This is such a nice surprise. How have you been?”

Your once hesitant smile turns genuine at your old friend’s greeting. It was nice to see them, despite everything you’d gone through with Eddie. Gareth and Jeff had been your friends once, but you cut them off too when you broke up with Eddie. It was too painful to be around them when you knew Eddie was nearby.

Jeff steps away from you and allows Gareth the opportunity to greet you with a hug. It’s warm and tight and reminds you of home.

“I’m good. You guys were incredible as always,” you trailed off, “Eddie, too.”

They smile apologetically at you and it feels weird to have his name leave your mouth after all these years. You talk quietly and politely introduce Seth to your old friends.

“How do you guys know each other?” Seth asked with intrigue.

“We went to high school together,” Gareth answered.

Seth nods and you talk quietly amongst yourselves and catch up for several minutes before your old friends are pulled away by a group of fans. You wave goodbye to them and turn back to your beer. It remained mostly untouched through the entirely of Corroded Coffin’s set. You take a long sip and resist the urge to look over at Eddie.

“Did you want to go to your place or mine after this?” Seth asked with a sly grin, reaching across the small space between you and squeezing your thigh.

You brush his hand off you and blench at him. You hop off your chair and it screams under the hardwood floor. “You seem like a nice guy, Seth, but I’m really not interested. The only reason I came was because Annie asked me to, not because I wanted to,” you replied honestly, shrugging your purse over your shoulder.

Seth frowns at your blatant rejection. He hadn’t expected you to say no. “You’re joking, right?” you shook your head. Seth’s once gorgeous face turns down into a sneer the longer he stares at you. “You’re an ugly bitch anyways. I don’t know why Malcolm insisted on meeting you.”

You glare at him and your hand wraps around the glass of beer you abandoned as you splash the liquid on his face. Gasps of surprise fill your ears but you’re so enraged to notice all the eyes on you. “If I’m such an ugly bitch,” you hissed under your breath, “why did you want to sleep with me, asshole?”

You slam the empty glass on the table just as security is about to escort you out. “I’m going!” you yelled. “There’s no need to escort me out, I know where the door is.”

You storm out of the bar into the crisp night air. Your heart beats wildly against your chest and you can’t help but cry tears of shame, embarrassment, but most importantly regret, on the walk home.

You stop in your tracks when you hear Eddie’s unmistakable voice chasing after you. You did not want Eddie Munson to see you cry after not seeing each other for three years. You pinch your nose and square your shoulders as he approaches you from behind.

“Are you okay? I saw what happened back there,” he said, standing in front of you.

You let out a shaky breath and meet his eyes. You never thought you would be this close to Eddie ever again. You roll your eyes as a tear touches your cheek. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” you said with a sniff. “Just another entitled prick upset that I said no.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

The silence that follows is heavy and deafening. It has you itching to sprint the rest of the way home. This wasn’t what you pictured your reunion to be like. The last thing you expected was for him to see you cry over a stupid date.

“Don’t be. I should be the one saying sorry. You’re out here instead of at the bar. You didn’t have to come check on me.”

“I wanted to,” he murmured quietly with a light blush to his cheeks. “I just… I had to see you.”

“Eddie,” you warned with a pointed brow, “don’t.”

“Can you blame me?” he asked with a laugh. “It’s been three years and when I see you again, it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time all over again.”

“Stop it. Stop talking. Go back to the bar, Eddie,” you demanded firmly, stepping around him and returning your journey home.

You must be dreaming. There’s no way Eddie Munson is running after you. You’re dreaming. This is your mind playing tricks on you. This is a cruel joke. You’re not the protagonist in a John Hughes film. The man you loved and had to let go was not chasing after you all the way home.

“No!” Eddie shouted, running after you and blocking your path. His eyes are wide with determination and he rests his hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place. “I am not leaving you, not again. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Fat tears coat your cheeks. You shake your head. “It’s been three years, Eddie.”

“And I’ve thought about you every day since.”

“Stop it. You’re making this so much harder. Please, just let me go.”

Eddie reaches to cup your face in his hands and the worn calloses on his fingertips brush against the tops of your cheeks. He swipes your tears away and his big, warm doe eyes stare back at you. Tears gloss over Eddie’s eyes.

“I’m not letting you slip through my fingers again.”

You tear yourself from his gentle embrace and look out into the street. Cars drive past you and people walk up and down the strip where most of the bars were where you lived. You swallow hard. “It’s better this way,” you muttered quietly.

“For who?” Eddie can’t help but yell. “You?”

You turn and look at Eddie with a menacing glare and shove him in the shoulder. All the pent-up emotions you’ve suppressed over the last three years came bubbling to the surface. You should’ve known that this conversation was going to happen. You should’ve left the bar earlier when you had the chance.

“No!” you yelled back, “For you! You got what you wanted, Eddie. You’re a rockstar. You’re rich and famous. It’s all you ever wanted. You were always meant for bigger things. You should be thanking me! If I didn’t break up with you, you probably wouldn’t be where you are right now.”

Eddie shakes his head at you, grabbing at his hair. This was not how either of you pictured reuniting. “I would’ve had you had we stayed together. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. None of this means anything to me if I don’t get to share it with you,” he confessed, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.

You shake your head in denial. “That’s… that’s not true. You would’ve resented me for asking you to sacrifice your career to make me happy and I couldn’t do that. I knew that when the band started to blow up, that we were on different paths. I was busy with nursing school and I knew after I graduated that I wanted to get married and have kids eventually. I couldn’t ask you to settle down when you were just taking off. I wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me.”

The silence between the two of you is deafening. Now Eddie knows the truth. The weight on your chest lifts and a deep sigh leaves your throat. Eddie stares at you like a fish out of water. You step around him and ignore the tears blurring your vision as you resume the journey home.

Eddie yells your name again and grabs you by the wrist. His fingers slip through yours and he squeezes gently. “If you asked me, I would’ve said yes. I loved you… I still love you. I would do anything for you. It would’ve been hard getting married and having kids when Corroded Coffin started to take off, but at least we would’ve had each other. You’re all I’ve ever needed. You were always my priority, but I was losing sight of what was important to me, and then you left. I’ve regretted it ever since.”

Another onslaught of tears makes their way to the corners of your eyes and Eddie caresses your cheek in the palm of his hand. His forehead rests against yours and he brushes his nose against your cheek. You sniffle quietly and meet his brown eyed gaze, swallowing hard. “Do you mean that?”

“Have I ever lied to you about anything?”

You shake your head, a soft laugh bubbling through your throat. “No.”

Eddie’s mouth presses into yours. He swallows your surprise and pours every ounce of love and passion into the kiss. The kiss was three years in the making. He kisses you like a starved man. It makes your stomach twist. Eddie kisses you slowly, savoring each delicate breath the bled into his mouth. Your fingers press into his chest and squeeze the fabric of his t-shirt. Eddie smiles against your lips and his teeth kiss your skin. Your spine tingles and blood rushes to the tips of your ears.

His hand slides to the back of your neck and tangle in your hair. Eddie presses his chest against yours and you taste the saltiness of each other’s tears. He holds you in place, his free hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you on to your toes. It makes you gasp and he pokes his tongue into your mouth before pulling away for air.

You breathe hard, catching your breath and resting your hands against Eddie’s chest. Warmth spreads across your body, up your neck, and into your cheeks. You have only dreamed about this moment for the last three years.

“I’m not letting you get away this time,” he whispered into the night air. “I lived without you for three years, and I’m never doing that again.”

“I don’t want to, either,” you replied, kissing him again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie imagine #eddie imagines #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #my writing

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