#what’s with me and loving ghost x girl stories | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

f1byjessie · 2 months

Text

SUGAR, SPICE, AND EVERYTHING NICE ━━ FA14.

being the wife to a formula one driver is hard, especially when they're far away.

( fernando alonso x wife!reader )

━━ one shot.

When you were ten, you baked with your grandmother for the first time and fell in love. With the flour up to your elbows, an apron two sizes too big looped twice around your waist, and your grandmother's sweet voice crooning along to Sergio Endrigo, she taught you the differences between a teaspoon and a tablespoon, that a pinch sometimes means two, and when it comes to cinnamon you can never have too much.

“My angioletto,” she called you, her little angel, “it doesn’t have to look pretty when it’s done. When I was younger, I made my husband, your nonno, the ugliest cookies you could imagine. But I put my love in it, and he loved me very much, and he ate every single one and for the rest of his years claimed they were the best cookies I ever made for him.”

She’d lifted you onto the stool at the counter, so you could peer down at the mangled mess of cinnamon rolls. “It may look odd on the outside, but it is just as delicious as the others, and you know what? It’s even more special because it was made by my granddaughter.”

She’d wrapped you up in her arms then, pressing a kiss to your forehead and laughing loudly and warmly when you tried to squirm out of her arms with a giggle of your own.

“One day, my angioletto, you will find someone who loves you with their entire heart, and it won’t matter how pretty your baking is, because they will eat it, and to them it will taste like heaven.” She’d pulled apart the cinnamon roll, looked you in the eye, and smiled— “Until that someone gets here, I will stand in.”

You ate the whole pan together, and neither of you cared that it ruined your appetite for supper or gave you a stomach ache a little while later.

She’d driven you home that night after the sun had set, and when you got to the little shop on the corner of the market square, a little storefront overgrown with ivy, she’d slowed to a cruise and pointed out where the old sign used to be— where there was just an off-color splotch where the walls around it had been bleached by the sun.

She had regaled you with another story of her time as a girl in the kitchen baking bread with the owner, as she did every morning before school in exchange for a few dollars a month, and then she told you, as she always did, that one day she’d buy it for herself and turn it back into the best bakery Italy had ever seen.

When you were twenty— a law school dropout, struggling to find your place in a world that didn’t seem to have any room for you— you bought the small shop on the corner of the market square, turned it into a bakery, and named it after your grandmother.

It was all on a whim, a result of what you're pretty sure was some quarter-life crisis brought on by feeling as lost as you were. Still, you were living out the lingering ghost of a pipe dream from your teenage years that your father's harsh words and mother's disapproval had shattered to pieces, and following in the footsteps of the woman who inspired your passion for creation.

You’re nearly thirty now, and you still don’t regret buying the bakery. It’s your home away from home now— your home when your heart is halfway around the world and waking up as you go to bed. You love what you do, and you feel grateful that you’ve lucked out in being able to spend your days doing something that makes you so genuinely happy.

But that doesn’t mean that every day is easy.

Today is one of those hard days. Valentine’s Day is just a week away which means orders are coming in like crazy, and on top of the hecticness it’s also the thirteenth anniversary of your grandmother’s passing. Even though you’ve made it these thirteen years without her, the reminder of her legacy— her dream, which you now live for her— is no easier to deal with now than it was all those years ago when you’d just lost her.

The smell of fresh bread from the kitchen and the deep lull of Sergio Endrigo over the bakery’s speakers do nothing but remind you of her and the afternoons you spent in her kitchen, kneading dough and icing cookies. You feel like a little girl again, laughing over old stories of your mother and flushing bright red when she’d bump her hip against yours and ask if there were any boys at school that had caught your eye.

You’d give anything to hear her talk about her days at the bakery one more time, have her guide you through another recipe, or listen to her sing along to old Italian classics.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Beatrice asks. She’s a young American woman you met a few years back when she was studying abroad. She hadn’t known much Italian back then, and you were the first person she’d met who could speak English, so she’d asked you for directions to the nearest bus station and you had walked her there to make sure she wouldn’t get lost, which had led to you both talking, trading contact information, and eventually you offering her a job at the bakery when she announced to you months later after continued talking that she’d be staying for the foreseeable future.

You wipe your hands against your apron and offer her a smile. It doesn’t come as easily as it normally does, and you feel like it shows. “Just being a bit nostalgic today,” you admit, turning your gaze to the picture of your grandmother that hangs on the wall across from the display case.

There are other pictures hung up with her— you in front of the bakery on the day you bought it, the bakery back when your grandmother still worked there nearly sixty years ago, you and your husband the day you got married, and Beatrice with her three dogs to list a few, all things and places and people you love and want to remember.

“My grandmother, who I named this place after, have I ever told you about her?”

Beatrice hums, thinking back to the many conversations you have both shared you imagine. As she does so, she reaches for a cloth to start wiping down the front of the display case. “I don’t think so,” she finally answers, rounding the counter to the glass front. “I knew the bakery was named after her, and that she taught you to bake, but not much else. You don’t really talk about her much.”

You frown, “I guess I don’t.”

“But it’s okay,” Beatrice adds quickly. “I know family can be a touchy topic. If you’d rather not talk about her, I understand. I’m not very fond of talking about my brother, to be honest.”

The only time Beatrice does talk about her brother is when she’s drunk, which she usually tends to be when the two of you sit down over a bottle of wine and gossip about the happenings of your lives. You’ve heard plenty of stories about him, and thinking back to the most recent one in particular startles a laugh out of you.

Beatrice seems relieved when you glance back over to her with a soft smile.

“My grandmother was the greatest woman I ever knew,” you start. “Do you mind if I talk about her?”

Your employee— your friend— smiles gently at you and continues polishing away the smudges on the display case. “I would love it if you talked about her.

“She used to call me her little angel…”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lance_stroll, and 45,918 others

yourusername i’ll leave a piece just for you, nonna.

view all 813 comments

user that looks delicious!!

user it’s actually my dream to visit y/n’s bakery 😍

↳ user no cuz literally same, idk anyone else who makes smth as simple as bread look so amazing

↳ user it’s like how irl some foods don’t look that good but somehow in cartoons they make it look like it’s the most appetizing thing in the entire world i would actually cut off my own arm and leg just to get to try a single bite

user così carino!! ❤️❤️

user how is it possible to make food look heavenly 😳

user every time she posts food it makes me want to marry a husband that can bake bc there’s no way i could ever do this myself but i do in fact want to live a life like this so very badly

↳ user FELT THIS OMG

user what a beautiful way to remember someone 🫶

user she’s gorgeous aND SHE CAN BAKE???

↳ user she’s really the most wag of all wags 😩

↳ user fell down a rabbit hole of wag interactions throughout the years and y/n’s introduction into the group is so iconic bc she baked them all cookies and brought them when she first met them all

↳ user i read that in an interview that she knows all their favourites and tries to make them all throughout the season when she goes to races

↳ user she’s actually such a sweetheart irl too, i visited the bakery before i ever knew who she was or what f1 is and if i hadn’t already seen that ring on her finger i would’ve shot my shot no joke 😔😔

↳ user what’s alonso’s secret??? where can i find me a wifey like that???

user this is gorgeous

user using food to celebrate a loved one is one of the most loving things a person can do in my opinion. so much love goes into food, but especially baked goods which take time and patience and practice. this is a really touching and beautiful way to honor someone, and i hope she’s watching down on you and thinking the same thing ❤️

↳ user didn’t think i was gonna be crying today but here we are ig 😭

fernandoalo_oficial mi vida, she would be so proud of you 💛

↳ yourusername i hope so, i am who i am because of her 💛

INSTAGRAM.

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, beatricejackson, and 71,074 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername arrivederci 💛

view all 1,397 comments

fernandoalo_oficial and may it be soon, mi vida 💛

user obsessed with the way fernando is obsessed with his wife

↳ user the fact that he calls her mi vida every time he addresses her has me walking into oncoming traffic 🙃

↳ user “my life” in spanish 😭😭 i literally fucking can’t when is it my turn to get a man that loves and cherishes me like this

↳ user honestly i think it’s just time to accept we’ll be alone forever cuz if he don’t treat me the way fernando treats his wife then i don’t want him

user for the ppl asking, arrivederci means until we meet again in italian, it’s a pretty common way to say goodbye in italy

↳ user AND FERNANDO SAID AND MAY IT BE SOON OH I AM ILL

user when will he return from the war…

↳ user it’s only february the season hasn’t even started yet so why isn’t he with her??

↳ user aston martin’s hq is in the uk and fernando has to be there for the car reveal, testing/sims, training, promo content, etc. it’s the logistical pr side of formula 1 that makes the season start a lot earlier than what ppl might think

↳ user AND OVER VALENTINE’S DAY TOO??? 😭😭😭😭

user mama y papa

user i want to grow old with someone and have pictures of our vacations to look back on and remember and i don’t think that’s too much to ask for

user she’s posting like he’s dead or smth 💀

↳ user i mean i would be too if my husband was missing valentines day bc of work tbf 🤷‍♀️

user i can’t believe fernando alonso bagged a baddie who ain’t even 30 yet

↳ user i can have you SEEN fernando alonso?? 👀👀👀

↳ user have you SEEN y/n?? 👀👀👀

↳ user two baddies bagged each other guys there’s not a lot to try and comprehend

Fernando being gone has never really mattered to you much. You miss him, of course. He’s your husband and ideally, you would be able to travel the world with him on a whim without needing to worry about who’s in charge of the bakery, but despite how perfect your life seems with Fernando by your side, there are a lot of things that don’t go according to plan and Fernando’s hectic work schedule is one of them.

The constant traveling across the season is exhausting for both of you, even though you’re not the one doing the majority of it. You attend his races when you can— usually when Beatrice forces you to, which is more and more recently as of late, with the logic that you should get the chance to see the world while you’re still young and while Fernando is still racing— but even when you’re home in Naples, the worry that you feel for Fernando as he flies around the world and races in a dangerous car takes its toll.

You wouldn’t even think of ever asking him to give it up, but not being by his side is hard and you cannot afford— for the sake of the bakery— to follow him wherever his sport takes him. So for now, you will always worry and stress about the toll it all takes on him as well.

You honestly hadn’t given much thought that he’d be missing Valentine’s Day this year, but it occurs to you now as you scroll through the comments on your post.

It’s by far the first time he’ll be gone for the holiday, but something about this year just feels different. Maybe it’s the stress of the extra workload you’ve taken on at the bakery to make up for the extra orders this year and the employees that have had to call out, or maybe the anniversary of your grandmother’s passing is hitting you harder this time than it has in the past, but whatever it is, the idea of Fernando not being here to celebrate with you has your eyes filling with tears as you sit curled up in bed.

Alone.

As you have been for the last few weeks now.

Fernando is in Silverstone, preparing for the launch of the new car and getting back into the swing of things before the new season starts, and this is part of the job you understand. You’ve been his wife for many years now. The racing may start in March, but the real season begins much sooner, and to a certain degree it never truly ends.

There’s always a push to be staying in shape, eating healthy, and staying up to date with all the up-and-coming news. Fernando has worked hard to try and find the middle ground, to enjoy his break while he has it, and take a step back from the Formula One world if only to de-stress from the sport’s particular brand of pressure.

And you’ve worked hard to accept that he will always be thinking like a race car driver.

Nonetheless, though you have enjoyed the interview clips and photographs of him being posted around on social media, and you love even more the pictures your husband’s teammate has been sending you and you alone, you can’t help but want to be selfish. You want to have him with you, in your home, cuddled up beside you instead of 1700 kilometers away in another country.

But that’s the way of things.

You’re about to turn off the lamp and, maybe, cry yourself to sleep while ignoring the very cold and very empty other half of a bed that’s too big for one— a bed you haven’t slept in the middle of since before you ever met Fernando, too used to occupying one side and finding another body on the other— when your phone lights up with an incoming call and his contact image flashes across your screen.

It’s late in Italy, nearing midnight now, and the UK isn’t too far behind. With the strictness of his daily schedule and the importance of a full night of rest, he should already be in bed by now. He should’ve already been in bed hours ago, if you remember correctly from past seasons.

“Fernando?”

“My love,” he greets, soft and sweet and sounding like just hearing you say his name has left him breathless. You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “I am sorry that it’s so late. I hope I did not wake you up, but I am calling because I simply could not bear to fall asleep without hearing you.”

You sniffle, wiping away at the tears in your eyes, but the quiet noise must’ve been enough for him to hear because he makes an inquisitive sound.

“Mi vida,” he calls to you, concern seeping into his words. “What is wrong? Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum back to him, shifting around in bed to face the window and the scenic view that lies beyond. You can see the ocean from your home— the dark water pulling in and pushing out and glittering with the reflected light of the moon, and the boats docked at the marina, still, silent, asleep. The moon’s glow paints the cityscape in an ethereal haze, like something from a fairytale. “I’m okay. Just a bad few days. I miss you, Fernando.”

“I know, my love,” he coos. “But we will be together soon. Do you remember what I told you when I left?”

As if you could possibly forget. The morning he left, a fog had rolled in from the sea and you’d swathed yourself in a shawl to chase away the early, damp chill as you stood on the stoep to see him off.

Fernando had wrapped you up in his arms, an embrace so warm and safe that the feeling had lingered for hours afterward still, and he’d whispered in your ear that he would move mountain and sea to get back to you if you ever needed him.

“But I always need you,” you’d teased. He’d chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, a promise, and then pulled you in even closer, tucking your head beneath his chin and letting his fingers run through your hair and comb through the remaining bedhead tangles.

You would similarly move earth and sky to be with him again now, just to feel his arms around you, or in the bed beside you.

“I meant what I said,” he says over the phone, drawing your attention back.

You hum again, “I know. But sweetheart, you have a job to do. It’s a very important job, too.” You curl the blankets around you tighter. “Pay no mind to my musings, okay? It’s just been a rocky start. The bakery has lots of orders to get through for Valentine’s Day, and I am short-staffed now.”

“What has happened?”

“What hasn’t?” You joke, heaving a sigh. “Rodrigo broke his hand in a biking accident this past Sunday, and the doctor says he’ll be out for a month at least. I can have him work the register and do minor cleaning chores, but we really need him in the kitchen because Andrea hasn’t yet been trained to use the equipment. I am trying to have Beatrice help with that, but it will take time we don’t have. On top of that, Samuel’s wife is having her baby so he has taken paternity leave, and Gemma has gone back to France for her mother’s birthday.”

Fernando makes a noise of understanding. “You are so stressed, mi vida. I wish there was more I could do. I am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You have no reason to. In fact, I should be thanking you because I’m feeling so much better just hearing your voice,” you answer. Feeling the tears dissipate as your husband’s joyous laughter trickles into your ear from the phone’s speaker.

“And I am better just hearing yours,” he says. “But I will leave you to sleep now. It’s too late for you to be awake. Te amo, mi esposa.”

“Ti amo, marito mio.”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, astonmartinf1, and 187,813 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, astonmartinf1

lance_stroll i’m really only here to take pictures for his wife

view all 4,964 comments

fernandoalo_oficial the heart is for her only

yourusername and i appreciate you very much for it lancino 🫶

↳ lance_stroll at least someone cares about the work i put in 😔

astonmartinf1 Breaking News: Aston Martin’s Lance Stroll challenges Aston Martin’s social media admin for their job

↳ lance_stroll thanks but i think i’ll stick to driving fast cars. it’s less stress.

user FERNANDO MAKING FINGER HEARTS FOR HIS WIFE 😭😭😭

user if you look closely you can actually see me about to jump off the roof in that last picture 🫠

↳ user real

user why is the first one so cute??

user lance is really just fernando and y/n’s kid at this point, he’s the disgruntled son who reluctantly takes pictures of his dad to send to his mom, and he complains about it, but he secretly loves doing it

↳ user i mean have you SEEN what y/n does for his birthday each year??

↳ user no????

↳ user she specifically learned how to make bannock and a bunch of other traditionally canadian desserts and baked goods for him

↳ user i bet lance’s trainer hates that lmao 😂😂

↳ user you all are talking about them like y/n isn’t just a few years older than lance himself is 💀

↳ user leave fernando and his controversially young wife alone

↳ user guys?? he’s literally only 42?? y/n is almost in her 30s, it could definitely be worse. at least they’re both well into adulthood

user nobody talk to me for the rest of the day this is all i can think about now

user HE MAKES LANCE TAKE PICTURES TO SEND TO HIS WIFE PLS OH MY DAYS

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, lance_stroll, and 298,513 others

tagged: yourusername

fernandoalo_oficial throwback thursday, as they say, except it isn’t thursday and i just wanted a reason to post my beautiful wife. te amo 💛.

view all 1,165 comments

yourusername i love you more mio carissimo 💛

↳ fernandoalo_oficial impossible, i love you the most

user adding “posts me just bc he can” to my list of standards for men

user SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING

user “just wanted a reason to post my beautiful wife” oh my god fernando alonso the man that you are… 😩😩

user guys he’s the blueprint

↳ user she’s so lucky

user WHEN IS IT MY TURN???? CAN I NOT BE HAPPY TOO????

user she’s actually so beautiful omg 😳😳😳

↳ user they’re such a power couple

↳ user super excited for y/n to be back in the paddock this year (fingers crossed it happens more) cuz she’s actually so stunning and her outfits are always very classy and fun to look at

↳ user is there a reason she doesn’t go to many races?? they don’t have kids iirc, so idk why she wouldn’t be able to attend more 🤔

↳ user she owns and runs a small bakery in italy, which means she can’t just travel for 9 months out of the year. she shows up when she’s able to, don’t get me wrong, but it’s definitely less frequently than some of the other wags

user gen imagine being fernando alonso’s wife

↳ user i think i would cease to exist

user cuando es mi turno 😭

Valentine’s Day arrives and with it comes the added stress of knowing you’ll be stuck in the bakery all day helping last-minute patrons sort through pastries and treats for their partners. This in and of itself is not a problem, you’ve always liked helping people and baking is your passion after all, but the idea of rising before the sun and being on your feet until long after it sets is not the most appealing, and even worse, your usual happiness is still overshadowed by the cloud of gloom that’s been following you since last week.

Ever since his first late-night call, Fernando has been good about making sure to ring you in the morning before he heads into the factory, and at night when he leaves. It’s helped, certainly, but nothing ever compares to the real thing and that thought makes you feel guiltier every day that you think it.

He has a job to do, a job that he loves. Neither of you should be forced to give up your passions, and that just means needing to make a few sacrifices every once in a while.

He doesn’t call you that morning, however, and though you hide it behind as much of a cheery grin as you can manage, it stings and you’re disappointed.

But throwing yourself into your work is always something you’ve been good at, so you focus instead on kneading dough, mixing pastry filling, and icing cupcakes.

Beatrice finds you back in the kitchen an hour before the bakery is scheduled to open, and the look on her face tells you she knew it’s where you would be.

“You shouldn’t be working today,” she says in lieu of a greeting.

You shrug, sliding a pan of bread from the oven. “We are too short-staffed for me to not be working today. Plus, what would I do anyway? Sit at home alone pretending that I’m not? At least in the bakery, I can put myself to use and be distracted.”

All she does is sigh.

The morning goes well. There’s a bit of a rush when you first open, the most notable of customers is a disgruntled older gentleman who you consider to be a monthly regular. He explains a long-winded story about his daughter’s boyfriend breaking up with her over text last night, and needing something to help cheer her up. He leaves with a box of cannoli, and an extra loaf of bread you threw in for him on the house.

Near the afternoon is when it starts to pick up, but in a lull between customers just after lunchtime, Beatrice corners you in the back. Her arms are crossed over her chest, her eyebrows are furrowed, and her mouth is set in a line.

“Go home,” she orders.

You huff. “Beatrice, I am the boss. Not you.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“I am not going home! The rush will get busier later this evening and we are short-staffed—”

“Rodrigo’s coming in to work register in—” she checks the watch on her wrist, “—fifteen minutes. I ran Andrea through kitchen duty the other day and I’ll be supervising her the entire time, and Marco and Silvia both said they could pick up a shift. I also have a text from Samuel’s wife saying if we need even more help she would gladly get her husband out of the house if it means he’ll stop hovering over her, and I’m prepared to take her up on that offer should the need arise.”

You blink at her. There’s a reason she’s the one you leave in charge when you travel, but whenever you’re reminded of just how good she is at managing the bakery you’re always left a little shocked. She orchestrated everything in the span of a morning and you didn’t even notice.

“Why do you want me to go home so badly?” You ask her, shoving your hands down into your apron’s pockets. “Nothing is waiting for me there anyway. Even if we weren’t short-handed, I would’ve still been here.”

“You sure about that?” Is all she says before turning on her heel and exiting back into the front of the bakery.

You don’t pretend to understand what she’s talking about as you hang your apron up and head for home. Beatrice shoots you a wink as you wave goodbye, and it feels like some sort of foreshadowing for whatever awaits you.

Nothing, however, looks any different than it had when you left. You park your car in the empty driveway, collect the newspaper from the stoep, and unlock the door.

Your keys and the newspaper are both tossed onto the counter just inside the kitchen as you toe off your shoes. You hang up your jacket on the dining room chair as you make your way into the living room, and then you pause.

There, resting on the couch is a stuffed toy bear and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. In the bear’s arms is a little sign, and the handwriting is already enough to have your eyes filling with tears.

“Fernando?” You call out to the silent house.

You check the ground floor and find no other sign of him, so you take to the stairs and begin the ascent up to the next, continuing to call out the many different pet names you have given to him throughout the years.

You peek into the bedroom, “Mia vita?”

Stood in the center of the room, a big grin on his face, is your husband. Fernando looks mighty proud of himself, a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s had this planned for a while and he’s smug that he’s managed to keep a secret from you. He opens his arms wide when you just continue to stand in the doorway, and like a flip has been switched, you rush into him when a sob of happiness.

He wraps himself around you, and the feeling of his arms holding you so firmly in his embrace is warm and comforting, and everything you had missed in the weeks he was gone. Your face is pressed into the crook of his neck, and the smell of his cologne has you sagging even further against him, sinking as far as you can into his hold.

He presses a kiss to your head and sways the both of you back and forth.

“Mi vida,” he murmurs. “I’m here, my love. I’m here.”

“I didn’t know you were coming home,” you cry against him, voice muffled from where your face is still pressed against him.

He runs a hand through your hair, scratching his nails against your scalp in the way that always calms you down, and hums. You feel it in the vibration of his chest more than you hear it. “I wanted to surprise you after you told me how stressed you were. I told you, no? I would move mountains and seas to be with you whenever you need me.”

“Ti amo,” you whisper against his skin.

“Te amo,” he whispers into your hair.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lance_stroll, and 97,141 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername to the luce dei miei occhi, i love you more than life itself 💛

view all 3,731 comments

fernandoalo_oficial mi vida i'll love you in this life and the next, until the very end of time itself 💛

↳ yourusername ti amo mia vita

user LUCE DEI MIEI OCCHI = LIGHT OF MY EYES

↳ user oh my days 🫢

↳ user i’m actually ill that is too cute

user they ARE that couple and they have every right to be

user WAR IS OVER

user i need them to adopt me right tf now it’s not a want it’s a need

user GUYS HE WAS JUST IN SILVERSTONE LIKE A DAY AGO??? FOR THE CAR LAUNCH??? THAT MEANS HE FLEW ALL THE WAY TO ITALY LAST MINUTE JUST TO SEE HIS WIFE FOR VALENTINES DAY

↳ user fernando alonso once again proving why he’s the best husband on the grid

↳ user i’m obsessed with them a totally normal amount

lance_stroll every time i saw him he was talking to someone about how he had plans to surprise his wife, i’m so surprised he didn’t end up ruining the secret somehow

↳ fernandoalo_oficial have more faith in your padre

↳ lance_stroll well i’ve seen my “padre” make the most cartoon heart eyes at a picture of baked goods so i don’t think faith is really gonna cut it. you’re whipped man 🤷‍♂️

↳ yourusername lancino you must put up with so much from this old man

↳ lance_stroll you know what? i really do

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @casperlikej @pear-1206

━━ a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, coming in at a whopping 5.4k words! and it's also the first request i've written for! so, cheers to that. this is my little valentine's day story, because i'm actually a big sap and i really do love good fluffy romances, so writing this distracted me from the fact that i'm actually very alone at the present haha! anyways, hope you all enjoyed! i also wrote this in under 24 hours, and it's a lot, so if there's any editing mistakes please ignore them, i genuinely could not bring myself to re-read all of this looking for every single mistake.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fa14 #lance stroll

1K notes · View notes

angelwithdemonictendencies · 5 months

Text

he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.

jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).

since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.

when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.

it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.

it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.

but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.

"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.

and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"

his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?

understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."

he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"

how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?

"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.

he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."

and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.

"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.

you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.

"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"

your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.

his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."

you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.

"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.

"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"

despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.

"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."

his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."

that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.

at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.

but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.

and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"

your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"

her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."

you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."

your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"

you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.

"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"

"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.

"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.

"being forgotten?" your friend asked.

"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.

"you look like you have someone in mind."

a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.

"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.

you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.

"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.

"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."

and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.

you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.

his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"

you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.

"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"

he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.

the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.

you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"

from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.

one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.

"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."

"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.

"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."

you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."

"we miss you so much. see you soon?"

you agreed, thanked her for her help.

"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."

having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.

"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.

"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."

the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.

very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.

you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.

they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."

"what if he's not interested?"

"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."

"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"

your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"

so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.

when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.

you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.

you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.

you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.

a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.

a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.

your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.

you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.

you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.

the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.

"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.

"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"

your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."

you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.

he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"

you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.

during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.

"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.

the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.

even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.

with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.

the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?

"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.

jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.

his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."

with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.

"have a game, sugar, here we go."

you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.

bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.

jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.

his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.

for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.

"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.

you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.

"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.

you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?

"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.

his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.

you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"

without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.

on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.

"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.

"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.

you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.

everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.

so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?

you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.

his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."

"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."

he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."

you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.

you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.

you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.

his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.

the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.

surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.

you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.

the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.

he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.

you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.

"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.

he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"

you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.

the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.

one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.

"alright," you chastised.

"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."

your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.

"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.

"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."

you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.

pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.

you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.

and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?

i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.

careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?

your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.

but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.

the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.

a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.

"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.

"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.

he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."

the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.

"what?" he said, grinning.

you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."

and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.

he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.

what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.

"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.

his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.

you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.

that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.

and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"

and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.

you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.

"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.

and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.

maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.

"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.

"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."

you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.

and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.

too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.

"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.

so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.

your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.

a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.

"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.

it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.

he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."

you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.

"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.

you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.

and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.

you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.

jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"

you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."

his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.

you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"

"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.

he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.

you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.

when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.

"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.

you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.

but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.

as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.

"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.

deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.

and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.

after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.

later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.

after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.

kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.

he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.

his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.

when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.

he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.

you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.

"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.

you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.

you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.

but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.

you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.

the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.

while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.

then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.

you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.

walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.

"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.

his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.

you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.

this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.

"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.

"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.

"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.

he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.

he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.

he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.

you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.

he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.

you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."

you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.

he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.

he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.

"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.

one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.

he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."

"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.

jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."

when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.

"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.

you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.

luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.

you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.

most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.

"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.

the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.

walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.

"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.

he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.

you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.

jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.

you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.

something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.

"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.

you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.

"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.

"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.

you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"

he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.

would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?

the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.

a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.

jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.

"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.

your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.

you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.

the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.

you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."

he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.

as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?

the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.

you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.

it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.

you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.

you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.

"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."

later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.

but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.

"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.

"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.

"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.

you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.

he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.

you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.

"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.

"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"

you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.

you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.

staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.

he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.

you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.

"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."

you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."

never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."

he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.

"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."

the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.

his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"

you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.

"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"

you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.

he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.

everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.

you should have known it wouldn't last long.

a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.

something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.

maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.

and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.

and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.

a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?

it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.

but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.

and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.

it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.

so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.

still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.

the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.

at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.

"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.

he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."

and that had been the end of that.

so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.

you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.

you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.

"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."

you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.

"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.

he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"

you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."

seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.

and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.

every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.

he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.

he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.

when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.

"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.

when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.

how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?

jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.

you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.

you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.

of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.

until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.

you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.

the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.

the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.

like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.

slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.

it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.

because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.

finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.

in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.

waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.

you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.

"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.

you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.

"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.

you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.

auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."

and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.

the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.

time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.

you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.

you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."

for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.

you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.

you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.

for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.

"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.

you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.

he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"

you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.

"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."

you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.

you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.

"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.

"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.

"yes."

"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.

you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."

there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."

you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."

he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."

you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."

he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.

so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.

he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.

and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.

"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."

he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.

you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."

in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.

when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."

it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.

"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.

you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.

"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.

and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.

it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.

he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.

"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.

"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."

you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.

you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.

you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.

you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.

you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.

"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."

there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.

he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.

that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.

"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.

fin.

#hockey #nhl #hockey smut #nhl smut #smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews #auston matthews smut #auston matthews imagine #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #new jersey devils #toronto maple leafs

1K notes · View notes

leejenowrld · 3 months

Text

ghostin' (one)

pairing na jaemin x y/n (fem)

word count 14.4k

genre smut, fluff, angst, situationship vibes, college au

synopsis after being brutally dumped by your ex hyunjin, you’re living a broken life, lost in the consumption of getting high and heartbreak. then you meet na jaemin, a one-night stand transforms into a bond. he becomes the catalyst for your healing. but can you genuinely break free from the attachment to your toxic ex? between newfound connection and lingering attachments, will you move on or hold on?

one | two | three | four

chapter warnings very broken, fragile, weak, intoxicated mc (not so much in the 1st chapter just wait lmao) cute friendship moments, girl moments, appearances from other '00 liners, explicit language, swearing, mention of drugs, smoking and alcohol, getting high, under the influence, unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral (f receiving) overuse of ‘baby,’ ass slapping, daddy kink, size kink and training, dirty talk, big cock jaemin, soft dom jaemin, groping, fingering, nipple sucking, a moment (the girls playing matchmaker) which teases all the other fics in the series which you can see about here, introverted, chill, emotionally intelligent, laid back, mysterious jaemin, jaemin with a darker side, a very sexy jaemin, black haired jaemin, jaemin who has no flaws

author note haerin is the protagonist (y/n) in my one shot mfal, which can be read here. she’s a side character in this so i wanted to give her a name so avoid confusion for myself lmao. but you can still imagine haerin as mfal!y/n. also there’s a lot of jeno and haerin in this chapter, a lot of friend moments, girl moments, jaemin only makes an appearance at the end. please stay patient and trust me!! the wait is worth it. he comes in at the perfect time :) i wanted to make this more friendship group based and explore the side characters compared to mfal, so :))) enjoy. also hana is heejin now from mfal! i changed her name, sorry about my bad planning, this is the second story that i’ve ever written (mfal my first) so i’m still learning and making mistakes. hana is an og so i didn’t wanna give her a popular idols name!! still need to change her name in mfal lol

part of neo heartbreaker series, same universe as mfal but can be read as a standalone. comment to be added to the tag list for future parts!! this is a 4 part series

“i know that it breaks your heart when i cry again, over him, i know that it breaks your heart when i cry again, instead of ghostin’ him”

playlist ariana grande ghostin, prettymuch phases, ghosting txt,

♥♥♥♥

“Jeno told me to show you this.”

You point your phone in Haerin’s face, eyes closed as she grips the device in her hands, mouth watering as she lets out a sigh, fighting her urges but she gives in, whining about Jeno’s ‘monster cock’ and how much she loved and missed it, how she wanted to fuck herself dumb with it… something like that. You chose to drown her words out. Hana let’s out a sound of realisation from beside you, understanding why your eyes were closed. It’s because you didn’t want to see Jeno’s cock.

“Why is he sending you that photo?” Hana asks, eyes puzzled.

“It’s because Haerin is ignoring all his texts and calls so he told me he’d make me my favourite dinner for a week if I shoved the photo of his cock in her face.” You explain, Hana giving you a knowing nod. Who would refuse that offer? Lee Jeno belonged on master chef.

“Well you can tell him he can shove his cock in his own mouth.” Haerin shakes her head furiously, words high pitched and spoken with anger. She sneaks a final glance and lets out one last whimper before handing you your phone back.

You nod, fingers typing away.

you - she basically said fuck you and that you can shove your own cock in your own mouth

jeno - bet my baby was moaning at the photo though. i know what she’s like

jeno - needy slut tries to act like she doesn’t want me when she’s mad at me

jeno - when she wants me even more

you - seems like something you should text her!

jeno - bitch that’s the point she’s ignoring me

“I'm gonna kill Jeno." You look up from your phone, your gaze shifting to Hana as you share amused glances, spotting a very annoyed and pissed-off Haerin sitting opposite you both in the canteen. It's been a long day of back-to-back lectures, and Haerin has been frustrated throughout them all. Uncharacteristically, she hasn't been paying attention in class, even though she's easily the top student and smarter than every single one of her peers.

She swirls her noodles around with her chopsticks, more focused on her irritation than her meal. "Why did he leave so early this morning?" You question.

"You tell me." Haerin exclaims, her voice raising a few octaves as she shakes her head in frustration.

"Wait, why are you pissed off at him again?" Hana asks in confusion.

"It's Jeno."

“Yeah I know, I asked why –”

"He was about to go down on me, but then he got an 'important' phone call, said sorry and left." Haerin explains with a huff. "I say 'about,' but he was already inside of me! He had just put his cock into me and then left before he started fucking me!!!!" Anger seeps through Haerin as she recalls the incident.

You and Heejin share a look, raising your eyebrows and holding back a laugh. Haerin and her boyfriend, Jeno, have a lot of sex. They're intimate every day, and he practically lives with you three girls. You admire the fact that they're deeply in love, evident to everyone around (and sometimes heard), but you're also put off by how frequently they engage in sexual activities. You and your roommate Heejin have become too accustomed to walking into any room in the house and seeing Haerin getting her back blown out.

“I need him so fucking bad that I’m genuinely kill the next person I see if they’re not him. I’m so fucking stressed right now and getting my back blown out by him is the only solution. I just need him to slap my pussy and my ass and spit in my mouth. I need him to choke me and I need his cum in my mouth or in me!!! Fuck I need his babies. I just need his cock shoved down my throat, I need him to wipe the drool from my cheeks after I’ve sucked him off, I need him to fuck my throat, I need him to tie my hair up for me and move the strands that get stuck in his mouth when I’m sucking his cock.”

Hana lets out a loud laugh at how the chatter on the tables surrounding the three of you had silenced completely, obviously in reaction to Haerin’s loud and incredibly sexual words. She usually had no filter when it came to the desires she shared with her boyfriend.

Haerin cries out, scrolling through photos on her camera roll and you wish you wouldn’t have glanced her way but you’re pretty sure you see Jeno’s cock grace her phone screen, (you also wish you didn’t know what it looked like.) Your eyes widen in shock as she lets out the loudest and horniest moan you’ve ever heard, she wasn’t even trying to conceal it, clearly not caring about who hears. Her mouth waters at the photos she has of him saved on her phone.

Haerin continues complaining, staring down at her noodles with a scowl, gaze moving to her phone once again and rapidly scrolling through the photos. "We haven't had sex since like… last night!"

You huff, contemplating how Haerin, if in your shoes, would likely struggle. The memory of your last intimate encounter, five months ago, casts a shadow, and a momentary sadness clouds your features. Shaking off those feelings, you ignore Hana’s observant gaze – she notices everything. How is she so observant? You disregard the look she's giving you, hoping she won't give it any more attention.

A sigh of relief escapes when Haerin continues to complain, Hana’s attention shifting.

"I'm going crazy.” Haerin breathes heavily, her eyes widening. "I keep crossing my legs, but nothing feels like him."

Her voice and expression turn darker. "I wanted to cut his dick off, especially when he kissed me and said he'd make it up to me."

Your eyebrows raise. "That's quite sweet, though?" You've seen the way Jeno kisses Haerin. If you were ever kissed like that, you'd melt. You'd complain about nothing. The heavy feeling overtakes your heart once more when you remember that once upon a time, you were kissed like that.

"Isn't this the third time this week it's happened?" Hana questions.

Haerin nods immediately. "He keeps saying sorry, telling me he can't tell me where he goes off to, but I know where he's going and who he's seeing. He doesn't need to tell me to know."

"And I know you guys already have an idea. If you think about it, it's not difficult to figure out."

The three of you say "Jaemin" unanimously.

"I swear you said that the only time he'll leave you mid-sex is for one reason... it's Jaemin.” Hana mumbles. Her attention is more focused on taking Haerin's chopsticks from her hand, swirling around her noodles, and then feeding her. Irritation almost overtakes her at the sight of Haerin staring down at a plate of empty food.

"Has he fallen off the face of the earth?" You question, thinking about the last time you saw him. You didn't know Jaemin that well. All you knew was that he was the best friend of your best friend's boyfriend, and he occasionally hung out with the group. But you don't think you've heard him mutter more than three words, ever. He was quiet and didn’t like speaking, there was nothing wrong with that, you was like that too..

When you don't get an answer, you return to reality and find a choking Haerin, obviously struggling to eat her noodles. Hana swiftly hits her back and offers water to ease the situation. Once the scene simmers down, Haerin, with a few chesty coughs, explains, "Jeno's not telling me everything because he has this sworn secrecy not to air out his best friend's personal life and problems to his girlfriend. But from the small things I've seen and heard around, I hear that Yeeun dumped him –"

"I heard that Yeeun cheated on him and he's literally on his death bed, depressed and getting high all the time," Hana whispers.

"I heard that she left the country and he tried to follow her." Haerin whispers back. The two of them go back and forth on rumors and speculations, which you observe, choosing not to get involved. Instead, you lean back and watch with a grin. You were never too interested in partaking in gossiping and bitching; it wasn't your thing, but you don't deny that hearing it was always good.

The gossiping comes to an end when they realize they're getting nowhere. You and Hana both turn to Haerin with a sigh. "Why can't you just ask Jeno? He obviously knows."

Lee Jeno, the one who harasses you with cock photos, Haerin's boyfriend, Jaemin's other half, they’ve been connected and attached since they were kids. The bestest of friends. Brothers. If Jeno isn't with Haerin, he's with Jaemin. It's a bromance that's heartwarming and sweet – two guys who are platonic soulmates. He obviously knows what's happened with Jaemin.

Haerin shakes her head. "He's not telling me. He's told me little bits, but he's being so vague. I've asked so many times."

"I even did my really cute 'no no' and puppy eyes smiling look, but he didn't budge. You know how I can make him do anything once I call him 'no no,' but it didn't work this time, so whatever happened is pretty serious."

You look at her astonished. "Why? I thought you told each other everything."

"Yeah, we do. If it's concerning him, he'll never keep it a secret from me. But he's told me it's unfair to air out his best friend's business like that. Jaemin's obviously told him the entire Yeeun situation with secrecy, and I'm sure he'll be hurt if Jeno just tells his girlfriend everything he trusted him with. It sucks to open up and become vulnerable only for everything you've said in trusted privacy to be shared."

You both still look confused. Doesn't having a boyfriend mean the 'don't tell anyone' rule doesn't apply to him?

Even though Haerin is admittedly annoyed at Jeno, she'll always defend him. "Look, I see where he's coming from. Something's happened with Jaemin, and it's clearly Yeeun. I'm worried for him, and obviously Jeno is. That's why Jeno is always going over to him, even when he’s about to put his dick inside of me." She rolls her eyes, accepting the fact that Jeno would drop anything for his best friend.

“Hey! You three come over right now!”

You and Hana turn around at Haerin's call, scanning the surroundings to spot Yangyang, Shotaro, and Xiaojun. The scared looks on their faces are evident even from a distance, a clear response to Haerin's tone and directness.

"We don't know anything." Yangyang quickly states as he takes a seat opposite you, anticipating Haerin's impending interrogation.

"You don't even know what Haerin's gonna ask you." Hana chuckles, playfully teasing the boys.

"I know we're about to get an interrogation.” Shotaro responds, the corners of his lips lifting as he grins sweetly at Hana, who ruffles his hair. Eric has now joined the table, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, and sits with you guys without a word. Come to think of it, that's what Eric was—someone who just appeared from nowhere.

You watch with a laugh as he leans his head toward Hana, silently pleading for her to do the same to him and ruffle his hair. However, she just shakes her head and focuses her attention on Shotaro. You smirk, well aware of Eric's crush on Hana, a fact not hidden from anyone at the table.

Turning to your side, you find Xiaojun taking a seat beside you, his knees knocking against yours. He offers a soft smile and a greeting, followed with a series of caring questions. "Are you okay? Have you eaten? Did you sleep well?" His genuine concern warms your heart.

"I did. I'm doing okay, Xiaojun, really." You reassure him, hoping he believes your words. You glance briefly at Hana, who gives you a knowing look and wiggles her eyebrows, hinting at something you try to downplay. You roll your eyes nonetheless, dropping your head to his shoulder, yawning and letting your eyes flutter shut but the loudness will make it impossible to nap.

Haerin cuts through the air, your attention shifting to her. "If you guys know where Jeno is and you're not telling me, then I'm seriously gonna cut and boil each and every one of your dicks. Starting with my boyfriend."

The threat hangs in the air, but Shotaro, ever charming, sweetly questions. "Shouldn't you know where your boyfriend is?" Shotaro asks sweetly, his dimples on full display. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he adjusted the beanie on his head, the thick layer of sleepiness evident in his voice. His charming smile and undeniable cuteness make you coo, prompting you to pinch his cheeks gently. Confusion flickers in his eyes as he wonders why everyone always showers him with affection when he feels he hasn't done much. However, the collective looks of endearment directed at him from all corners of the table convey the unspoken truth—he's effortlessly lovable, no effort required.

"We all fucking know where he is. He's with Jaemin, and he has been with him ever since Yeeun did her shit and fucked him over like the heartless and selfish bitch that — anyways — Why the fuck are you acting like you don’t know where Jeno is, Haerin, don’t you guys tell each other everything?” Yangyang asserts, frustration evident in your words.

Hana’s eyes light up. "You boys know! You know what's happened with Jaemin."

"Yes, we do, and we're not telling you. It's no one's business. Plus, you guys clearly already know; Jeno told Haerin, which means she told you.” Yangyang responds.

"Jeno hasn't told me!!!! Oh my god, how many times do I need to tell you guys?" Haerin exclaims, her voice raising and whining due to reaching full frustration.

"I'd be kinda worried if I was in a relationship and he didn't tell me everything—"

Haerin is a testament to defending her boyfriend even when she wants to cut his dick off. “He tells me everything that I need to know, everything that concerns me and him. There's no secrets with that stuff. He just doesn't air out other people's business to me. My boyfriend is honest and fair. Plus, I'd never tell him anything personal about you guys. There have been so many times you guys have confided in me about something personal and private and promised me not to tell anyone, and I haven't. And I would never. Telling my boyfriend my close friends personal life isn't something I'd be proud about; it's disrespectful and crossing boundaries. We both have a mutual agreement to that. There are standards and expectations in our relationship."

Xiaojun nods, laughing out loud. “If you know why he's not telling you, then why are you bothering us and trying to get the information from us?"

"Because I'm not perfect and I'm a nosy bitch, okay? Happy???? Plus, if I heard it from you guys rather than Jeno than he’d have nothing to feel guilty about and it would satisfy my craving to know everyone’s shit.” Haerin exclaims dramatically, truthfully revealing her nosy intentions. Suddenly, she groans and loudly slams her head on the table, shedding real tears when she realizes one of her nails from her set has broken off.

♥♥♥♥

Later that night, the comfort of your own house embraces you after a long day of classes. You and the girls gather on the sofa, indulging in your favorite rom-coms, creating an overall cozy evening.

Haerin, as usual, is talking about Jeno. You can't find it in you to get annoyed; she loves him, and sharing her happiness is second nature. She excitedly recounts the details of one of the many expensive getaways he took her on.

"We went skinny dipping," she begins, "He fucked me in every corner of the cabin we were staying in. The kitchen, the lake, on a blanket outside by the lake, against the wall of our room – we actually broke the bed and had to pay extra for it."

"Oh, and we did it in the bathroom and the shower a lot. I remember he was balls deep inside of me, he had made me cum for the sixth time in a row, and we were both close to falling down and fainting. He was fucking my cum back into me then he told me he wanted to marry me be the father to my children. We didn’t use protection for that entire day and he kept trying to fuck a baby into me. Thank God I didn’t get pregnant. He was quite high at that time and although I wasn’t, I was on my 6th orgasm. We were literally ready to be parents at that time… that’s what good sex does to you.”

You and Hana widen your eyes at Haerin. She always shares stories about their very intense and loving sex life, sometimes she even shows you videos and photos, you never look at them the same way after hearing it all – especially Jeno. He's a freak

“You guys are… on another level.” Hana laughs.

"You guys are the cutest." You smile for Haerin, masking the twinge of loneliness and heartache you feel. It's selfish, but seeing your best friend so happily loved up hurts, even if you're genuinely happy for her.

Haerin notices your silence and sends a sweet smile your way, patting your head and asking if you're okay. You can tell she feels a twinge of guilt, especially when she offers her way of making you feel happier.

"Let's get you with someone!" she claps her hands excitedly, trying to play matchmaker.

"Nooo," your hands make a crossing motion, but she won't listen. Once her mind is set on something, it's set.

"Yes!" Hana claps happily, and you huff when you realize you're outnumbered.

Haerin starts listing potential bachelors. "First of all, there's Donghyuck – hot and he knows it. A bit of a lost cause, but he's fearless and obviously good in bed! You're the opposite of him – more sensible and mindful, you can guide him in the right direction, like me and Jeno!"

You shake your head at that idea immediately. "He's high 95% of the time. He isn't serious. Plus, I heard he's got his eyes on that girl. What's her name again? She's the older sister of Jieun, used to be popular but now she’s the typical rebel. She's kinda rude.”

Hana offers her batch of men. "Okay, then... Yangyang! He's cute, he's –"

"He's gay," You laugh as you watch her realise it. “He’s gay and I don’t know if he knows it yet.”

Haerin's eyes light up when she thinks she's found the man. "Mark's cute! Smart, nerdy, apparently has a big cock and is really good in bed. Plus, he's sweet, emotionally mature, and just recently broke up with his girlfriend –"

"He's in love with his best friend.” You mutter. Mark and his best friend have been attached to the hip since birth, and they're also in love. They're both just oblivious idiots, but somehow everyone around them knows.

“There’s Xiaojun, he’s boyfriend material and he definitely wants to fuck you.” Hana nods to you, rolling her eyes when you shake your head at her amazing idea.

“He’s sweet but he’s such a fuckboy… he wants to fuck everyone.” You respond, truly not wanting to get involved with a player. You stray far away. He was one of your closest friends and you did trust him with your life but that was emotionally. You knew his sexual side was another side to him that you quite simply didn’t want to get involved with. It was unexpected how much he rolled around in the sheets. Plus, he was one of your best friends!

Hana scratches her neck and whispers to Haerin, "This is hard."

Haerin grits her teeth in pure frustration. "There are so many guys at ‘Neo Culture Technology’ but at the same time, they're all either gross or unavailable."

"Who's left?" Heejin questions.

"There's Shotaro – but apparently, he's got a thing for that really hot Wonbin guy. There's Eric – but he's in love with Hana. There's Sunwoo – but he's in love with me. And I can't think of anyone else. There's Jeno, but if you touch him, I'll kill you," Haerin starts giving the rebuttals herself.

"Eric is not in love with me.” Hana tuts, shaking her head in denial.

“Yeah and Jeno’s not in love with me.” Haerin rolls her eyes dramatically, speaking in a sarcastic tone, trying to emphasise how naive and oblivious Hana was.

"Also, Sunwoo's stopped trying to chase after you. Jeno scared him away forever." Hana laughs, but you widen your eyes in slight fear, remembering the night when Jeno put an end to Sunwoo's dreams of having Haerin permanently.

Haerin however dreamily closes her eyes at the memory. "My man."

"Wait, there is someone else. Jeno gave me this idea, and I didn't get it then, but I do now. It's Jae –"

Speaking of the devil, the atmosphere shifts as Jeno casually strolls in, exuding a magnetic presence. His confident gait and tousled hair give him an effortlessly cool appearance. His eyes, a warm and inviting shade, immediately soften as he reaches Haerin.

Greeting everyone with a charming smile, he seamlessly moves toward Haerin. The room becomes a canvas of love as he leans in to kiss her softly. Arms looped around each other, they share endearing whispers, lost to the outside world.

A bittersweet feeling washes over you as you witness their intimacy. Yet, the mood takes an unexpected turn as Haerin gasps, extricating herself from Jeno's embrace, adopting a dramatic stance.

"I'm supposed to be mad at you! You dick!!!!! Leave me again during sex and see what happens. You will have no dick." Haerin warns, forcefully putting on a pissed off voice and expression. You know this was her acting and being dramatic, She found it easier to melt into his arms rather than hold a grudge against him, you understood it. I mean, have you looked at Jeno?

You and Hana share an amused expression as the scene unfolds. Jeno's playful silence only serves to annoy Haerin more. She huffs at his smirking demeanor, her words stumbling initially but gaining clarity. "Can you tell this man that he can sleep outside tonight?" Her arms crossed, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she faces you.

Nodding, you face Jeno. "Haerin said that you're not allowed to sleep with her tonight."

Jeno tuts, responding with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Can you tell Haerin that if that happens, then she'll come to me in the middle of the night and beg to ride my –"

Haerin cuts him off, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes. "Can you ask him why he's in my house?"

“Haerin asked why are you –”

“Y/N, shut up.” Jeno says seriously, warning you not to speak.

“Hae, I’m in your house because you gave me a key for our anniversary." He explains, his eyes soft as he reaches for Haerin's hand, attempting to make her melt into him but he widens his mouth when she doesn’t take his hand like he expected her to.

"Baby." He whispers, his voice a soft and tender melody, likely to make her heart flutter. Despite the softness in his tone, she remains resolute, dodging his attempts to kiss her.

"Why are you mad?" He questions, shaking his head in confusion. Haerin persists with the silent treatment, prompting him to turn to you and Hana with a light-hearted chuckle.

"It's because she wanted you to shove your dick in her throat, but you left." You inform him with a nonchalant tone.

Jeno, with a determined look, works his magic on her. He gently takes Haerin's hand, and this time, she doesn't pull away. His smile, radiant and affectionate, speaks volumes, a sight capable of soothing any emotional ache. His eyes, dreamy and captivating, have the power to make anyone melt.

His voice drops to a low whisper as he utters sweet promises into her ear. "I'll make it up to you, all night long.” He vows, kissing the sides of her cheeks. A low moan escapes Haerin's lips, catching you by surprise. Was she that horny?

You and Hana turn to each other with wide eyes when you hear intense smooching noises and passionate sighs and moans. You take that as your cue to leave.

You walk back in 2 hours later, and they’re still making love on the sofa. You turn to Hana with a playful smirk, congratulating yourself internally when she pays up. You bet that it would take Haerin less than a day to let go of her grudge, and it did.

“I didn’t think she’d give in so easily.” Hana sighs, defeated, giving you the money with a frown.

“She always does with him.” You respond.

“I would too.” Hana smiles. The two of you turn to each other with a playful smirk. “I mean, have you seen the way he manhandles her? Have you seen his cock?”

“Unfortunately.” You mumble.

“It wasn’t unfortunate for me.” Hana bites her lips and sighs dreamily.

♥♥♥♥

The morning air is filled with the tantalizing aroma of Jeno's pancakes, a comforting scent that wafts through the entire house. Sighing in relief, you're grateful that it's Jeno preparing breakfast, saving you from the potential culinary disasters that Haerin or Hana might unleash.

The lively chatter in the kitchen reaches your ears before you step in. "I will put the two of you on a sex ban!" Hana warns, yawning as she has another night of insomnia to add to her list.

Chuckling, you enter unnoticed, preferring to remain a subtle presence in the background. You stroll in with a laugh, savoring the fact that they're oblivious to your entrance. Being the subtle presence in the background suits you well – there’s no need to draw attention to yourself; it's just the way you like it.

Jeno, however, breaks the pattern and spots you immediately. You smile when you see Haerin attached to his back, arms around him as he cooks up.

He turns around, flashing a grin and offering a nod. "Good morning, princess. Finally got up?" His tone drips with playful mockery for no apparent reason.

You respond casually, "I've actually been up all night, thanks to two particular people rolling around in the sheets."

“It was actually against the wall, on the floor, in the shower, in my car, on the sofa, on her chair and against her desk. I had her arched against the kitchen countertop too. We did it in the bed the least.” Jeno sighs, nonchalantly reminiscing about his night of passion with his girl, leaning down and kissing her on the head, slapping her ass and keeping his hands there, squeezing every now and then.

“Fucking hell. All that in one night?” Hana questions, wondering how that’s even possible.

“As if that’s the most they’ve done.” You laugh.

Haerin passionately complains, "You guys are complaining, but I didn’t get any sleep either! He had to carry me downstairs and I can barely feel my thighs, I don’t know how I’m standing up right now. I’ve woken up with a hundred bruises on my body because of this man–

"Babe." Jeno swiftly interrupts, shaking his head at how it sounds.

"We get it. He's a rough lover.” Hana responds, pleading with her hands and begging Haerin not to share more of her intimate stories with him.

Jeno prods his tongue against his cheek. "Loving and passionate is how I like to say it.” He corrects Hana with an affectionate smile.

You smile at the heartwarming scene unfolding before you. In moments like this, the pain in your heart doesn’t attack you so brutally. Jeno’s in the kitchen, whipping up breakfast for everyone, and, as per usual, Haerin is attached by his side.

Meanwhile, Hana and Jeno engage in a playful bicker about the correct way to make pancakes (though you’d never admit it to Hana, you secretly prefer Jeno’s pancakes by far). Jeno then presents you with a plate stacked high with beautiful pancakes, adorned with your favorite syrups and fruits.

“Just the way you like it.” He says, and your mouth waters at the enticing sight.

“You better finish every last bite or else.” Jeno playfully warns, adopting a protective brotherly tone. It’s a side of him that has emerged over time. He was there when Hyunjin dumped you, he saw the state you was in, he saw how detrimental your health became, how you were neglecting meals. He witnessed he toll it took on your well-being. His increased care and protection over you hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Now, you’re surrounded by people who genuinely care about you, you’ve come a long way from those difficult days. Despite the strides you've made, the battle persists. The grip of your drinking habits remains firm, and solitary hours in the dark persist. Yet, amidst the struggle, there's a genuine improvement. You compel yourself to believe in the progress, even though the vulnerability still lingers. The fear persists; one trigger, one misstep, and the possibility of crumbling back to the depths looms.

They flash warm smiles your way while you savor your meal. Surprisingly, they haven't even started on their own food.

"You're all weird." you quip, narrowing your eyes as you playfully lock gazes with them, your cold expression meeting their endearing ones.

♥♥♥♥

Jeno is casually perched on the countertop, methodically dipping his sushi into a pool of spicy mayo before guiding the chopsticks to his lips. The furrow of his brow reveals his deep focus on the phone in his hand, typing away with practiced ease. Just as he's about to indulge in a bite, he abruptly halts, raising an eyebrow as his gaze shifts to you three girls.

The widening of his eyes is evident as you initiate a circling formation, you’re a trio of inquisitive troublemakers, with a determination to unearth the mystery about Jaemin that he's hiding. Despite Jeno's clear reluctance to spill about Jaemin and his ex, you girls, fueled by curiosity, launch an attempt to pry the information loose. Hey, nobody's perfect. You’re all nosy!

A palpable sense of fear colors Jeno's demeanor as the three of you unite your efforts. Questions barrage him, but he remains resolute, shaking his head with a firm "no" and countering every inquiry with a blunt and direct response. "All of you, stop it. If I said I'm not telling you what happened, that means exactly that."

In the face of Jeno's unwavering stance, Haerin's frown deepens, and yet, Jeno's expression softens, he swiftly pulls her onto his lap with one arm and feeding her the sushi on his chopsticks, kissing her cheek softly. "Look, it's not my place to tell you personal things regarding Jae. It's not my story or my heartbreak. As much as I'd love to spill the tea about what a selfish and heartless bitch that Yeeun is—"

“Yeeun is so sweet, though.” You cut him off, a hint of disbelief in your voice as you register the language he’s using. His expression shifts abruptly, turning hard and cold almost instantly.

“You’d think.” He laughs, but the disdain in his face tells a different story. He despises her, a revelation that catches you off guard, considering she was his best friend’s girlfriend for the longest time.

Jang Yeeun, a girl in the year above, is a vision of beauty that triggers a twinge of envy within you. Whenever you catch sight of her on campus, it’s as if she belongs in a magazine. Her smile, breathtaking and radiant, could light up any room. Her blonde hair, so luminous and silky, seems to catch the sunlight in a way that leaves you in awe. It’s no wonder she’s popular – sweet and undeniably attractive. She’s always smiling and she radiates such a brightness.

Jeno's annoyance intensifies, a scowl etching across his face. His cheeks flush with frustration, and his eyes darken with a mixture of irritation and discomfort. The tension is palpable as he digs his nails into his palm, a physical manifestation of his inward turmoil.

Observing Jeno's visible agitation, Haerin, perceptive and caring, notices the telltale signs. She reaches out, gently rubbing his cheek with her thumb, and in a gesture filled with intimacy, she plants a soft kiss on his lips. Concerned, she mumbles. “You okay, my love?”

He responds with a whispered assurance that he's fine, urging her not to worry. His lips find their way to her forehead in a tender kiss, a silent expression of gratitude for her understanding. “I love you.” He whispers against her forehead.

"I just don't wanna talk about Yeeun.” He mutters, the words escaping in a low murmur that carries the weight of unspoken emotions. The intimacy of the moment contrasts with the underlying frustration, creating a complex interplay of feelings within the scene.

Jeno, quick to change the subject, does anything to help the anger in his heart pass. "Anyways, you three are invited to my party. I'm throwing it for Jaemin."

Immediate reactions unveil the distinct personality differences among you and your friends. Hana nods enthusiastically, fully on board with the party vibe – much like Jeno, she loves getting high and wasted, finding joy in nights where memories are non-existent.

Haerin, on the other hand, frowns, turning to face her boyfriend and shaking her head. "Another party?" She questions, her preference leaning towards cozy movie nights, cuddling Jeno, and ordering takeaway. The contrast between her and Jeno is striking, making you ponder how these opposites found each other.

Your reaction remains impartial, but confusion is quick to find a voice. "Huh?" You question, expressing your bewilderment at his idea. "Isn’t he currently heartbroken and struggling to get through each day? You think a party is the solution?" Your words hang in the air, a reflection of your practical and contemplative nature compared to the contrasting preferences of your friends.

"Shut up.” Jeno shoots his eyes in your direction, a clear signal for your voice to be silenced.

Haerin’s eyes widen and she sucks in a breath. Seriously? She’s turned on right now?

"My man needs some pussy.” The crude statement hangs in the air, and you huff as you realize the reasoning for the party. Of course, people always hook up at Jeno's parties, and it gives him immense pride – he loves being the matchmaker and now he wants his best friend to have rebound sex.

"That's really not—" You begin, only to be shushed by Jeno.

"You're throwing the party for that?" You inquire, a mix of disbelief and amusement coloring your voice. “Can’t you just set him on a blind date or something?”

"Yeah.” Jeno responds simply, a sly smirk playing on his face as he crosses his arms defensively. His eyes light up with humour as he senses your scepticism. He laughs. “Jaemin and blind date? Do you even know him? He’ll never show up to that shit.”

"He's gonna hate the party.” You laugh, anticipating Jaemin's reaction. “If he won’t turn up to a date then you think he’ll turn up to a party?”

Jeno, however, gets defensive, a sly smirk still playing on his face as he challenges you. "Suddenly, you know him better than me?" His voice carries an edge, a playful challenge.

When you don't respond, the tension deepens. "Oh, I get it." he continues, his tone implying that whatever he says next won't be pleasant. "You're jealous. You don't think there's any point in throwing him a party because you're here?"

The accusation hangs in the air as he pushes further, daring to ask, "You want him? You wanna fuck him?"

"Fuck off, Jeno." You assert, shaking your head in frustration at his relentless words. He was a pain in the ass.

He continues, pushing his blunt perspective. "It makes sense. Hyunjin dumped you, and then Yeeun tore Jaemin's heart out of his chest with her tacky and disgusting spider fingers and then stepped on it—anyways, you both need good rebound sex. It's better than moping around, crying in the sheets all day when you could be getting your bones jumped in the sheets."

You cut Jeno off, your voice raised in defensiveness. "You don't know what I need." You mutter, defensive goosebumps rising on your arms at the harsh yet uncomfortably true nature of his words.

He shrugs. "Just trying to help. Maybe you should fuck Jaemin; he's really good in bed."

"Maybe you should fuck off, Jeno." You retort, rolling your eyes at his audacity.

Haerin begins scolding Jeno for his behavior as if you weren't there. "Don't talk to her about him. She's still dealing with the heartbreak. How will she fuck Jaemin so easily if all she wants is Hyunjin?" Their words sting, leaving you feeling unsettled. Is this how your friends see you – as weak and fragile?

However, Jeno's honest words bring slight comfort. "He's a fucking idiot, and I want to talk about it. There's no point not talking about what happened, bottling it up and not communicating will just fuck everyone's heads even more. He's not some sacred God whose name shouldn't be spoken; he's the opposite, he's a fucking dickhead. If I see him again, I'll punch him like I did that one time when he was making out with that girl in front of you. He's a cunt, and I'll help you kill him."

"Thanks, Jen." You say, a genuine smile breaking through. Gratitude washes over you – at least someone gets it. He returns your gratitude with an understanding smile, providing a flicker of solace in the midst of emotional turmoil.

Jeno, the master of redirection, skillfully changes the subject. You sigh in relief when the conversation finally shifts away from your heartbreak. He turns to Haerin, locking eyes with hers. "You're coming to the party, and I don't want to hear no."

Haerin huffs, her face dropping – she's not a fan of parties, a sentiment she doesn't hesitate to show.

Without giving a direct response, Haerin's silence prompts Jeno to poke further. "If you don't come, then no sex for a week. He threatens, adding a playful edge to his attempt to convince her.

“You think you’re the one who proposes sex band in this relationship?” She questions, eyes a siren as her voice deepens. It was true, she had Jeno wrapped around her little finger.

"Why do you want me to come so bad?" She asks, curious about his motives.

"Because don't I deserve to get laid like Jae?" Jeno says with a smirk. "I'll only have fun if you're there." You can't help but roll your eyes at his cheeky remark, fully aware of his regular romantic encounters towards her.

You observe as Jeno leans in, whispering sweet words into Haerin's ear. Whatever he says seems to work like a charm. "Fineeee. I'll come but only for you," Haerin relents, a playful smile crossing her lips as she succumbs to Jeno's persuasive tactics.

You observe them closely, a genuine smile gracing your face as they share a sweet and joy-filled kiss. Their cute smiles and the affectionate atmosphere only contribute to the happiness you feel while witnessing the scene. “He’s probably gonna fill the tables with your favourite wine.” Hana playfully predicts.

Later that night, in a hushed tone, Jeno whispers to you, revisiting the topic from earlier, "You know I was joking around earlier, but I do really think it's a good idea if you move on and fuck Jaem."

"I don't want that or need it." You mumble in frustration. "Sex isn't the solution to every problem."

"Yeah, it is." Jeno interjects with a confident nod and a smirk.

You roll your eyes. "You're just obsessed with getting your dick wet. You think fucking solves every problem."

“In Haerin’s pussy, to be exact. I’m obsessed with getting my dick wet in her pussy.”

Haerin, who has been silently observing the conversation, tuts and playfully hits Jeno on the head. "Stop acting like that. You know when we argue, first of all, we talk about it, explain ourselves, and communicate our emotions, and then we have the best sex of our lives." She scolds him.

Jeno only smiles, not responding to Haerin. Instead, he turns to you with a smirk. "You should think about what I said though. It's a good idea."

"It's so random. I mean, I've never spoken to Jaemin once." You express, noting the mystery and introverted nature of Jaemin, someone you've only exchanged nods and smiles with.

He was a complete stranger to you, shrouded in an air of mystery and introversion. Your interactions had likely been limited to nods and smiles. He didn't go out of his way to engage with people, preferring to keep his circle small and interactions to a minimum, only when necessary. However, you couldn't help but wonder why a connection never formed between the two of you. He seemed to be on good terms with everyone else in the group—Jeno, Haerin, Hana, Eric, Mark, Yangyang, Xiaojun. It left you questioning the unspoken distance between you and him.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when Jeno turns serious, looking at you with empathy. He shares a revelation that sends a shock through you, "It's not really that random. Apparently, Hyunjin's sleeping with Yeeun." He whispers, offering a sweet smile while Haerin rubs your back, looking at you with caution.

Your throat dries, and your vision blurs at the news. You force the words out, "Oh—how—how did you find out?" The stutter in your voice betrays your attempt to sound unaffected.

He doesn't answer directly, a regretful expression crossing his face. You're grateful he shared the information, knowing it's better to be aware than blindsided by the painful truth later.

"Y/N—" Haerin begins, concerned, but you cut her off, pretending not to care.

"I'm fine." You mumble, excusing yourself to the bathroom. Once there, the façade crumbles. The scene unfolds with you crying, water splashing on your face, your hands feeling foreign. Your heart falters, dizziness and sickness overwhelming you. Your head shakes violently as you hope for an end to this torment. As long as your heart beats for Hyunjin, someone who betrayed you, you fear being broken forever.

♥♥♥♥

You girls got ready in preparation for the party ahead. The bond you and your girls shared made getting ready together a cherished ritual, a source of laughter, and a confidence boost when you needed it the most.

Haerin took charge of your hair, her skilled hands transforming it into a sleek, silky cascade. The soft hum of the straightener filled the room as she worked her magic, creating a look that exuded confidence. Hana couldn't help but gush about the result.

The encouragement from your girls always provided a much-needed confidence boost, especially in those moments when it mattered most. "You look so beautiful and hot!!! If you’re not in someone’s bed tonight then I’m gonna get you in mine.” Hana exclaimed, her words laced with genuine admiration.

“Let’s do it.” You turn around and wink at her, giggling when she leans down to kiss your cheek.

With your hair done, the focus shifted to Hana, and you eagerly joined in to help with her makeup. You concentrated as you applied eyeshadow to her eyes, a black smokey shadow look that complemented her features flawlessly. You paired it with a red lip. She looked hot. She beamed at the mirror, hugging you tightly and smooching your head once again, clearly satisfied with the look, you can’t find it in you to be mad at the lipstick that stains your hair.

You then turn your attention to Haerin's outfit choice. You couldn’t believe how slutty yet elegant her wardrobe was, it was truly a mix of the extremes. She had the tiniest of skirts that barely covered her ass cheeks but then she also had elegant and pretty long dresses, you guess she wore whatever she felt like on the day.

After a moment of contemplation, Hana and you helped her decide on a pretty pink mini dress that will catch everyone's eye. You tie her necklace around her neck, giving her an array of bracelets and rings to accentuate the look. As Haerin slipped into the dress, a hint of uncertainty crossed her face.

"Can you see my ass cheeks through it?" Haerin whispered, turning around and tilting her head towards the mirror, attempting to gauge the view.

"Yeah.” You chuckled, admiring the hot pink lace thong peeking through the thin seams of the tight dress, "but you look incredibly sexy, Haerin."

Haerin's face lit up with a shy smirk at the compliment. "I'm not gonna change it. Jeno loves this thong so much.” She shared mischievously, "It’s my way of getting him to take me home as early as possible and to get out of this party."

You watch with a laugh when she tries to take a mirror selfie with her ass in the camera lense, Hana silently takes her phone from her hands and assists her, not being able to watch as she struggles, the two of you sharing an amused look when Haerin starts texting away on the phone, blushing when she shows you the texts.

haerin - [photo attachment of her ass cheeks]

haerin - what i’m wearing tonight baby :)

jeno - it’s see through?

jeno - you know my hands will be on your ass the entire night?

haerin - i’ll be disappointed if they weren’t :(

jeno - you know i’m just gonna rip that off you?

haerin - that’s why i’m wearing it

jeno - you just wanna get out of the party as soon as possible, don’t you?

jeno - funny of you to think that i’ll take you someplace private to fuck you when you know that i’m more likely to let the whole party hear you moaning my name

jeno - anyways do you need me to pick you up beautiful

haerin - no baby hana’s taking us

haerin - see u soon <3

Moments later, the trio of you made your way to Jeno's house. The house exterior exudes sophistication, with sleek lines and expansive windows that hinted at the luxury within. Upon entering, the richness of the house enveloped you.

Immediately, an electric atmosphere pulsated through the air. The party was in full swing, as expected from the notorious extravert and party thrower. The space was alive with a sea of people – some familiar faces from campus, others unknown.

The place was packed, almost bursting at the seams with laughter, chatter, and the rhythmic beats of thumping music that reverberated through the walls. It was a sensory overload The air was thick with the lingering fragrance of smoke and other substances.

Amidst the crowd, Jeno navigated his way through effortlessly, exchanging smiles, nods, and handshakes with friends and acquaintances alike. It was clear – everyone knew Jeno, and Jeno knew everyone.

Jeno quickly spots you, his already dilated pupils widening further. Haerin immediately becomes the focus of his attention and they share a greeting that evolves into an affectionate embrace. He lifts her up, her legs wrapping his waist and his hands find her ass cheeks immediately, his grip tight and firm. As sucking face noises fill the air, leaving you to awkwardly glance around.

Sensing your discomfort, Hana finds you, squeezing your hand to guide you away. However, you unexpectedly bump into familiar faces, and your face lights up with genuine joy. "Yeonjun!!" and "Soobin!!" escape your lips as you greet them, hugging both with grins that reflect the warmth of your reunion. The genuine happiness in their eyes mirrors your own, and you've genuinely missed having them around. They seem happier than ever, forming a couple that could rival Haerin and Jeno.

In the past, Yeonjun was your fourth roommate, and Soobin was always a constant presence. Now, you feel proud seeing them take the next step in their relationship, having moved in together. Their new flat stands as a beautiful testament to their love. Yeonjun is about to drag you somewhere; however, your escape is interrupted by the arrival of the troublesome trio—Renjun, Xiaojun, and Yangyang. They greet you with hugs, but mischievous glints in their eyes make you prepare yourself. They’re a pain in your ass before they even speak up

“There’s no fucking way you actually came.” Renjun exclaims, speaking louder than he needs to, each word marked by his intoxication.

Xiaojun was your sweetheart. “You look beautiful.” He kissed your cheek, his sweet words causing flutters in your heart as you smiled up at him with gratitude . You wrap your arms tightly around him as he whispers in your ear. “Missed you.”

“Never thought I’d see the day where you stopped moping around, crying in bed, and actually got off your ass to have some fun!!” Yangyang adds, he’s the only one who’ll be honest and upfront with you, his tone blunt which can come across as mean.

You force a smile, concealing the sadness that lingers within. Despite understanding that he intended for his words to be harmless, there's a lingering ache that suggests your friends might still perceive you as fragile. So what if you weren't in the mood for a wild party? You didn't find solace in the bottom of a bottle or in the haze of substances to cope with heartbreak. And yet, here you are, navigating the sea of unfamiliar faces and the thumping beats that echo the sentiment of your own muted heart.

A tender ache fills your heart. Haerin is like you, shy and reserved, yet the difference lies in the way her vulnerability seems to be guarded by an unspoken shield. You've noticed the whispers that never reach her, the kindness that eludes her gaze, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy.

In the soft glow of the room, Haerin rests in the secure embrace of Jeno. Their eyes lock, unspoken words passing between them. Their smiles radiate a genuine warmth, an intimacy only for them. In this moment, you realise the unspoken truth – no one targets Haerin. She carries an invisible shield, woven from the threads of love and protection that Jeno provides.

A melancholic frown plays on your lips as you question silently: will you ever find an embrace like theirs again? One where vulnerability is met with understanding, and the world's harshness is softened by the warmth of love. It's a yearning that echoes in the quiet spaces of your soul, a desire for a connection that feels as secure and enveloping as the one you witness.

Parties are overwhelming for you, with their throbbing beats and lively chatter; however, the free alcohol makes it worth it. The liquid courage momentarily hushes the heartbreak and pain, providing an illusion of security in a world that often feels too tumultuous to navigate.

Amidst the pulsating music and vibrant chaos of the party, you find solace in the repetitive ritual of downing drink after drink. The fiery liquid drowns down your throat, leaving a burning trail that momentarily numbs out the whirlwind of emotions within. In the midst of the swirling lights and distant laughter, the free-flowing alcohol becomes the singular silver lining, the only solace you seek in the crowded abyss.

With each sip, you sink into the familiar embrace of intoxication, a sanctuary where vulnerability is masked. The glass in your hand transforms into a shield, shielding you from the prying eyes and unwelcome questions that linger in the shadows. It's a ritual, a coping mechanism that had recently become ingrained in the fabric of your existence, a way to drown out the dissonance of emotions echoing within.

The sensation of getting high and drunk becomes a substitute for the unspoken emotions that remain buried deep within. It's a fleeting escape, a momentary reprieve, where the clinking of glasses and the hum of the crowd momentarily drowns out the echoes of your own struggles. In this sea of temporary numbness, the allure of the next drink beckons, promising a brief sanctuary from the storm within.

You settle onto Xiaojun's lap, feeling the warmth and comfort of the familiar position, both legs on either side. A giddy smile plays on your lips, thinking nothing of it – you always do this was him, it was just another moment of closeness between you two. You were both always touchy and you thought nothing too much of it, it was natural, you assume he thought the same.

Little do you know, your presence on his lap subtly transforms his entire demeanour, leaving him momentarily speechless. You tut and shake your head when you feel his hardness prod against your thigh, a teasing comment escaping your lips. "Really?"

He’s shrugs. "Not the first time you’ve made me hard and not the last." He murmurs, his eyes dark as he rubs his clothed cock against you and you jab his arm. His eyes turn soft as he looks at you. Unbeknownst to you.

You find sanctuary on Xiaojun’s lap, observing the party unfold around you. Mark and his best friend catch your eye, seeming unusually close as they dance with whispered words and foreheads pressed together. Your eyes widen in surprise when you witness Yangyang, Soobin, and Yeonjun engaged in a three-way kiss. Maybe Yangyang has embraced his sexuality, or perhaps he always knew. Your gaze shifts to Haerin and Jeno, on the sofa, trying to conceal that she’s riding his cock but they’re not fooling you. They’re entwined in each other's arms, lost in their own world of affection. Then Donghyuck, looking incredibly close with someone you didn’t realise and you wonder, has he finally found the girl that’s grounded the wildness inside? You lean back against him with a grin, the familiar ritual of the hot alcohol burning down your throat as you observe everyone.

He lets out a weary sigh as you down another drink, the overpowering scent of alcohol swirling around him, momentarily drowning his senses in an intoxicating haze. "Instead of drinking, you can always just talk to me.” He suggests, concern etched in his voice. "I always tell you, I'm here for you." Xiaojun leans in to kiss your forehead, his gaze holding a mix of care and understanding.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, you shake your head, eager to change the topic. "Let's dance!" You exclaim, trying to lighten the mood. Xiaojun sighs, having just become comfortable with his hands gripping your thighs. He enjoys being in your presence, away from the busyness and loudness, and reluctantly agrees to join you on the dance floor.

You tossed expectations aside, party you did. You cheer at the top of your lungs, dancing close to Shotaro and Eric, the whole group surrendering to the music. Your arms flung up, and you let loose in the wild rhythm of the night.

The beats were relentless, matching the reckless abandon as you downed drink after drink, head held high in the haze of the party. You don’t realise how hot you look when you allow yourself to have fun. Drunk on both the music and the drugs, you remained blissfully unaware of eyes following you like a shadow – he wants you.

The lightheadedness sets in, and you can already sense the impending headache that will haunt you tomorrow. Later in the evening, you find yourself inches away from Xiaojun's lips, dancing with closeness, Let loose. Jeno's words echo in your mind – maybe he was right, and you do need a rebound.

Let loose. You glance over to see Eric and Hana taking their passion to the sofa, dry humping in the midst of an intense makeout session. Their uninhibited display stirs a desire in you to embrace the same level of outgoing freedom. Hana finally gave in to Eric’s want of her.

Let loose. You trust Xiaojun, one of your closest friends, you know he won't push it further; you're not ready for that, and he's aware. He knows that you’re only looking to rebound and have a good time. you know he knows. At first you was sceptical, he’s a fuckboy but that means he’s not serious and isn’t looking for any commitment, just what you need.

Your emotions are fucked, Hyunjin still has a control on you. You miss him, you want to see him, you want to forget about him, all you want is him. Longing to forget, you desperately wish the grip he has on your heart would release. Xiaojun, smiling and wasted, nods. You’re both on the brink of closing your eyes, ready to lean in but he's like a magnet, drawing your gaze into the distance. You see Hyunjin, the truth unfolds before you. The man who still holds your heart with his tongue shoved down someone else's throat.

Everything comes crashing down, the raw reality hitting you like a tidal wave. The reckless escape you sought in the party, the dance, the drinks – it all pales in comparison to the harsh truth that pierces through the night. The man you once shared an intimate connection with is now lost in someone else's embrace, and the weight of that realisation hangs heavy in the tumult of emotions.

Jeno was right— the lucky girl was Yeeun, Jaemin's ex. As you caught sight of her, envy gnawed at you like a persistent ache. Yeeun, with her radiant blonde hair, possessed a beauty that felt enchanting, almost ethereal. Her presence seemed to cast a captivating spell, leaving you mesmerised yet resentful.

Her blonde locks framed a face that radiated an undeniable allure, making every movement she made seem effortless and captivating. The air around her seemed to shimmer with a certain grace, intensifying the envy that gripped you. In her presence, you couldn't help but feel like an observer to a scene where she effortlessly stole the spotlight.

Time halts, and you find yourself frozen in the moment. Desperation takes hold as you bite your tongue with a force that rivals the pain in your heart, attempting to stifle the sobs threatening to escape. Despite your efforts, tears stream down uncontrollably. Suddenly you’re sober again; the drinks no longer provide an escape, instead it works to intensify the emotions, making everything a hundred times more poignant.

In an abrupt decision, you make a swift exit. Xiaojun, sensing your drop in happiness, attempts to follow, but you halt him with a silent plea. You’re grateful that he’s not sober or else he’d follow you.

The feeling of invisibility intensifies – no one pays attention to your breakdown. It's not a plea for attention, but in these moments, it seems like you're navigating this emotional storm alone. Hyunjin remains oblivious.

Navigating through the crowd, you find solace in an empty room. As the door closes behind you, a switch flips within. The facade crumbles, and you break down in a way you haven't allowed yourself to before.

Take a moment to collect yourself, leaving the room with the unsettling realization that going home might be the best option. The desire to avoid running into anyone on your way out is fueled by a doubt that anyone would even notice your departure. You don’t stand out. No one notices when you’re not there.

As you move through the hallway, your eyebrows rise at the unmistakable sounds echoing through the seemingly thin walls – loud moans, skin slapping against skin, the headboard banging, and the unmistakable noises of passion emanating from not one but two rooms.

This is Jeno's house, a place you've visited before. You can easily discern that one of the passionate pairs comprises Jeno and Haerin, obviously now in the comfort of closed walls. Unfortunately, you're all too familiar with the unique way they express themselves when they fuck, given Jeno's frequent nights spent at your house.

You hear Haerin's unrestrained cries of ‘daddy’ at the top of her lungs, audible every minute. Your eyes widen, she’s genuinely calls him that more than his actual name ‘Jeno.’ The absence of any attempt to mask the sounds with music speaks volumes about their boldness. To your surprise, the door is left slightly open, revealing an audacious lack of secrecy, these freaks want people to watch and hear. Your didn’t want to look but you glanced before you even thought about it. You nearly choke at the way he has her body bent under him. How the fuck can a human body move in that way?

The sounds from the other room trigger a quick realisation – it has to be Na Jaemin. After all, this is his house too; he shares it with Jeno. Recalling that the party was intended for Jaemin to find rebound sex and move on, you acknowledge Jeno's fair play in orchestrating a night where Jaemin seems to be thoroughly enjoying his time.

The stark difference in the way both couples fuck becomes unmistakable. Haerin and Jeno, unapologetically basking in their love, make no effort to conceal themselves, fucking openly for anyone to see and hear. On the other hand, Jaemin and his mystery girl attempt to be more calculated, trying to mask their moans with loud music but it doesn’t work. It seems like you’re witnessing an unintended competition of who can emit louder moans (it’s Jeno).

Before you spot Jaemin, his voice reaches your ears, introducing you to a side of him you never expected. This is not the same introverted, quiet guy who usually utters no more than three words in a conversation or lingers silently in the background, fading into all the buzz. His words, unexpectedly crude and filthy, pierce through the air.

"Scream my name then, go on."

"You didn't say please?"

"Such a tight cunt."

"So wet for me."

His voice, low and deep, transforms his entire persona, a sultry air that causes a rush of heat surges to your cheeks, and you find yourself blushing uncontrollably. You squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t make sense but also makes so much sense. It's a revelation, leaving you grappling with the realization that this is the same guy you thought you had figured out – a quiet introvert who has now revealed a whole different side of himself in the throes of passion.

As you prepare to leave, shaking your head at how distracted you became, your steps halt when Jaemin's bedroom door swings open right in front of you. The initial sight that catches your attention is how he’s practically naked, the only thing he has on is tight boxers and you’re wondering, why are you unable to tear you gaze from the sight? You also notice the multitude of hickies adorning his skin, he has cum all over his body.

His heavy breathing and a glazed look in his eyes suggest he's not fully present, as if dwelling in another realm. There's a palpable sense of disorientation, a dizziness that separates him from the pulsating beat within his own chest. Jaemin appears not just physically spent but emotionally detached, lost in a world beyond the immediate surroundings.

His features strike a harmonious balance between softness and sharpness, creating a visage that is both captivating and alluring. His dark, tousled hair adds a touch of casual charm to the overall allure.

Yet, what intrigues you most are his eyes—deep and penetrating, yet tinged with an emptiness. Despite recent intimate engagements, the light seems to have eluded his gaze, introducing a layer of complexity that adds to the enigma surrounding him.

This is a side of him you never expected to see—it’s almost like it’s not him. The eyes you're looking at reveal a detached and broken person, so out of it that he doesn’t even see or notice you at first.

As your gaze shifts downward, his toned chest, sculpted abs, and peaks make your mouth water. His physique is undeniably attractive and hot, creating a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil reflected in his eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing?" His voice crashes into the moment, causing you to snap back to reality. The sudden sharpness catches you off guard; his tone is darker, more blunt than you ever expected.

"The party's downstairs. I swear to God, I told Jeno not to let anyone come upstairs—"

You attempt to respond, but your throat feels dry and stuck, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can collect your thoughts, Jaemin takes the lead.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" His voice softens instantly, concern washing over his face as he furrows his brows, carefully assessing your expression.

"I—yeah, I'm fine," you lie, the words escaping through gritted teeth.

Jaemin shakes his head, skepticism evident. "Obviously not true."

He shakes his head slowly, his expression a mix of concern and disappointment. "How much have you had to drink? You look a mess.” He admits with blunt honesty, his perceptive eyes seeing through the facade you try to maintain. He studies your flushed cheeks, the slight unsteadiness in your movements, the glaze over your eyes. the rosy tint of your complexion and the way your words occasionally stumble.

A gulp is your only response as you glance at your reflection in one of the mirrors against the wall. The sight is a disheveled mess—smudged makeup, tears still streaming down your cheeks. The emotional toll and crying have become so familiar that they seem like your default state. You only now realize that you're still crying.

"I—I'm sorry.” You mumble, the words coming out pathetically, struggling to find your voice.

Jaemin's eyes soften, and he offers you a sweet smile, twisting something inside you. You can't help but wonder why he's being so kind.

"What are you sorry for?" He chuckles.

"Is it Hyunjin?" He asks, his voice low and whispered, a hint of caution present as if he's mindful about uttering that name around you.

Jaemin stands there, visibly awkward, scratching his neck and desperately searching for a lifeline to rescue him from the situation. His eyes dart around, unsure of how to navigate the emotional turbulence around you. He subtly rolls his eyes in the direction of Jeno’s room, they were still fucking.

In a fumbling attempt to offer some comfort, Jaemin starts a motion, perhaps to retrieve a tissue from his pocket. Then, the realization hits him—here he is, practically standing naked in front of you adorned with hickies and remnants of cum. His eyes widen in a mix of surprise and embarrassment, but you shake your head reassuringly. "It's not a big deal."

Your gentle voice acts as a balm, stirring something within him. His eyes lock onto yours, and in that unspoken exchange, there's a shared understanding. Jaemin's thumb delicately grazes underneath your eyes, wiping away the tears from your delicate skin.

"Fuck Hyunjin.” He whispers, his voice soft and tender yet carrying a sharp edge of hurt and anger on your behalf. You nod in response, a genuine smile naturally forming on your lips. In that moment, as Jaemin expresses both solidarity and indignation, you feel an unexpected sense of settlement.

What is it about Na Jaemin? You’re left pondering, did he even know your name? This is someone who you never expected to be so kind and respectful to you, you’ve heard endless stories about how he’s quiet and doesn’t talk but you’re seeing a whole different side.

He continues wiping away your tears, and you can't believe you're still crying. The weight of vulnerability starts to lift, making room for a mix of bitterness and a twinge of sadness in your voice as you mumble, "Our exes are fucking."

You wonder if Jaemin already knew, as he doesn't react with sadness or shock. Instead, his facial expression remains void and unchanged. You can't help but envy how he maintains such control over his emotions. All the times you’ve seen him, he’s had one expression on his face, nonchalant and unbothered.

“How are you not reacting?” You cry out more than you wanted to, perplexed as to how he has such a tight control on his emotions. You envy it, you wish you could be like him.

“Come with me.” A surprised gaze lingers in your eyes as his suggestion hangs in the air. He nods towards his room, and you can't help but feel a flush of red creep onto your cheeks. The first thought that leaps into your mind raises questions – does he want to sleep with you? It seems plausible, given the fact he had just been fucking and that this party was thrown to help him find a rebound. What if he sees you as another opportunity?

"I don’t wanna fuck you.” You whisper back, the words leaving your lips with a mix of uncertainty and anticipation.

Jaemin shakes his head, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates the notion that you believed he was suggesting something more explicit. "I didn’t say that was going to happen. Do you want that to happen?" He teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he tilts his head, awaiting your reaction. However, you evade giving him a response, breaking eye contact.

"I should be getting home anyway.” You mention, attempting to steer the conversation away.

"How are you gonna get there?" he probes further.

"Hana said she’ll take us, if not then Jeno –" you begin, but he cuts you off with a knowing smirk.

"Hana is shit-faced high downstairs and fucking Eric on the sofa and we can still hear Haerin screaming 'daddy,' so obviously Jeno's busy." He interjects.

"Then I’ll just walk home." You assert.

"It’s 1 am." He points out. “Do you know how dangerous the street are at this time?”

"It’s 10 minutes away.” You counter.

“Just come into my room.” He suggests with a confident assurance, the conversation steering in a way you didn’t expect. The straightforwardness catches you off guard.

"Just trust me.” He murmurs, his words something you're willing to trust. Weakness washes over you, you don’t have anything else to lean on. The prospect of going home in isolation, with only your broken heart and the lingering drink in your hand as companions, feels unbearable.

Without much contemplation, you nod, surrendering to the solace he seems to offer in the unknown. “Ok.” You mumble, your response sealed with a hint of anticipation.

Jaemin's room is painted in a rich midnight blue, creating a calming atmosphere. The walls are adorned with posters of indie bands and artistic prints, showcasing his eclectic taste. Muted gray decor complements the deep blue, and lights strung along the walls provide a soft, ambient glow. A well-organized desk sits against one wall, littered with notebooks, a laptop, and scattered pens. The minimalist furniture, including a sleek bed with monochrome bedding, adds a touch of simplicity to the room. Various trinkets and souvenirs line the shelves, hinting at Jaemin's interests and experiences.

Numerous photographs cover one section of Jaemin's room, creating a nostalgic collage on the wall. The alcohol in your system blurs the faces, but the emotions captured in each snapshot are vivid. Smiles, laughter, and shared moments freeze in time. Your vision may be hazy, but the warmth of those memories makes you smile.

Your heart pounds when you realise there’s an unexpected sight—a half-naked girl perched at the end of his bed. Shock and embarrassment wash over you, she’s the girl you heard him fucking earlier.

“Get out.” Jaemin's stands with crossed arms, watching her exit with impatience. You recognize her as Karina, a girl from your year. Her eyes meet yours, and she smirks, offering a thumbs up with a mischievous giggle. In a hushed whisper, she says. “You’re gonna have so much fun, he does this thing with his tongue…”

Her words leave you blushing and flustered. Before you can make it clear that you were not here to fuck, Jaemin swiftly escorts her out, locking the door firmly behind her.

In an awkward atmosphere, Jaemin proceeds to put on a simple top and jeans. The tension is palpable as you fumble through your reasons for being in his room. Confusion clouds your gaze when he extends his black leather jacket towards you, and you silently drape it over your shoulders, catching a scent reminiscent of midnight rain and cinnamon.

"I'm gonna go home.” You mumble.

Jaemin shakes his head in response, "I already said that it's too dark and dangerous –"

"I'll just –"

"Either I'm gonna take you home or you're staying with me," he says sternly. "I can't leave you alone like this… wasted and clearly upset. Plus, Haerin is staying over, so I want some sleep tonight. I know her and Jeno will be fucking all night long.“

You nod, the two of you sharing a silent understanding as your eyes meet in the moonlit room. In that moment, your gaze holds a mix of darkness and glistening emotions. "Take me home.” You softly request.

“My house is gonna empty. You can stay over.” You whisper, heavy breaths taking over your voices.

♥♥♥♥

The air is charged with anticipation as his bulge pressed firmly against your thighs, the sensation sending shivers through your body. You can feel the warmth between you, he’s so hard that his length is digging into your skin.

Jaemin’s staring down at you, body pressed against yours as you fall onto the bed, him following. You can’t believe how sexy he looks. His gaze met yours with an intensity charged with an electric current of unspoken words. The moonlight played across his features, highlighting the depth of his dark eyes and accentuating the sharp contours of his face.

He hovers over you, his fingers delicately caress your face. They trace the contours underneath the hollow of your cheek, along your sleek jawline, and over your fluttering eyelashes. His voice was a low murmur, a tone that revealed a depth to him you hadn’t noticed before. “So fucking pretty.” He whispered, and you felt your pussy throb and ache for him.

The room seemed to pulse with anticipation, a magnetic tension pulling you closer in the dimly lit space. There was a certain warmth in your closeness, an unspoken connection that seemed to bridge the gap between you two effortlessly.

The moment you stepped into the sanctuary of your empty house, your lips found each other in an instant, pressing fervently, lost in a mutual hunger. It was unclear who made the first move; it seemed to be a shared impulse. All you were aware of was the rapid beat of your heart as you found yourself breathlessly kissing and biting his inviting lips, your legs wrapped around his waist in an embrace of longing.

As he carried you upstairs, a whirlwind of desire and impatience in his every step, he threw you down on what was, unknown to him, Haerin’s bed. The room, adorned with countless photos of her with Jeno and her friends, went unnoticed in the dim light, its significance lost in the intensity of the moment.

He had mistaken this room for yours but you can’t be bothered to correct him. In that instant, the only truth that mattered was the closeness between you two. Besides, a part of you relished the thought of fucking him in her bed - this was a subtle payback for all those times Haerin had fucked Jeno on your bed.

Jaemin’s voice, low and teasing, broke the charged silence. “Are you just gonna stare at me all day?” He teased, his voice a low whisper that caressed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Tell me what you want, I’ll give you everything, darling…” His hot breath against your ear, followed by a gentle bite on your earlobe, intensified the moment.

You continued to gaze into his eyes, finding yourself at a loss for words. His presence was overwhelming — a side of him you hadn’t seen before. There was a captivating darkness in his demeanor that left you both stunned and deeply attracted.

His finger traced your lips, gently pulling them down. A smirk played on his lips as his gaze dropped to your legs, wrapped tightly around his waist. Your movements were restless, you keep shuffling, desperate to feel something between your thighs to which Jaemin let out a soft, playful tut too.

“Just fuck me.” You moan out, the words laced with desperation.

He smirks, the embodiment of a tease. “Are you sure?” His whisper is a mix of sweetness and seduction, his eyes soft yet resolute as he looks down at you. His breath fans over your skin, a contrast to the intensity in his gaze.

You nod, trying to attach your lips to his but he dodged, a playful glint in his eyes. “Tell me exactly.”

A moment of silence hangs heavy in the air, filled with unspoken longing.

“Tell me you want me.” He presses, his voice a gentle command.

“I’m sure.” You reply, your voice barely a whisper.

He tuts softly, a sound that sends a thrill through you. Shaking his head, it still wasn’t enough.

“I want you. I want you to touch me, I want you cock in my pussy. I want you to fuck me.”

The air knocks from your lungs when his lips suddenly meet yours in an explosion of sensation. His lips are a perfect mix of softness and firmness, molding against yours with an intensity that sends waves of heat through your body. The taste of him is intoxicating, a hint of sweetness that lingers and beckons for more.

It’s a collision of longing and emotion, intense and all-consuming. Your mouth opens against his, and the moan that escapes you vibrates against his lips, a raw sound of pleasure that deepens the kiss. His tongue meets yours in a dance of shared passion, exploring and responding with equal fervor.

Each brush of his lips sending shivers down your spine. The world around you fades into a blur, leaving only the exquisite feel of his kiss, the taste of him, and the shared breath that seems to connect you on a level beyond words.

His mouth found the sensitive area of your neck, his mouth moving with a mix of tenderness and urgency that made your breath hitch in surprise, having not been touched like this in so long the air has already been sucked out of you. The warmth of his breath against your skin, mingled with the softness of his lips, created an intoxicating sensation, stirring a deep craving within you.

He then trailed a path of fervent kisses up your jawline, each one imbued with a burning intensity, his lips moving against the contours of your face, each kiss a declaration of desire. His movements were both deliberate and instinctual, as if each kiss was guided by a deep, primal need.

With a deep breath, he reached for the hem of your top, fingers brushing against the fabric in a gentle, almost reverent touch. The material was soft and lights

He slowly lifted the top and there was a moment of quiet, a hush that seemed to fill the space with anticipation. The fabric whispered against your skin as it rose and cascaded down your body prettily, the sound as soft as a breeze through autumn leaves.

Jaemin’s eyes found yours, and in them, you saw a whirlwind of emotions. His gaze was intense. The air between you two crackled. His eyes, dark and expressive, spoke volumes more than words ever could. There was a hunger in them.

He lowered his mouth to your chest and immediately brought your nipples to his lips, his first touch was a slow and thoughtful lick, savouring your taste. He took his time, lavishing your nipple with light swirls of his tongue and gentle kisses, which elicited moans of pleasure to spill from your lips.

He gently bit on the sensitive bud of skin, his teeth releasing with a ‘pop,’ followed by a contented smile as you moan his name. His attention to making you feel good was thorough, a mixture of playful bites, long licks, and occasional sucking.

Slowly, he continued with small, delicate kisses, down your body, from your boobs to your upper thigh, the soft press of his lips against your skin made you whine, pulling on his hair and begging him for where you wanted his touch the most. You slowly grind your clothes pussy against his face, he looks up at you with a smirk. “You wanna feel me here?” He whispers, voice filled with breath as his soft fingertips tread along your lower stomach, his lower lip captured between his teeth.

You nod eagerly, a mixture of anticipation and nerves filling you as you hadn’t had sex in 5 months and you didn’t expect to be doing it right now, with Na Jaemin, of all people. It intensifies your emotions but you surprisingly feel ready, you never expected to be so settled in such an intimate embrace with a complete stranger but there was something about Na Jaemin that made you horny.

He presses his lips against yours intensely as his hands gently tease the edge of your mini skirt, eventually slipping beneath the fabric. You break the just for a second, maintaining strong eye contact with him as you pull your mini skirt down your legs, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, caressing it with his soft fingers before eagerly pushing your lace thong down your thighs, lips smashing against yours once again as he tosses both your skirt and thong to the side, trailing kisses up your legs, his fingers beginning to delve into your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He hisses against your ear, cold fingers making circles against your folds, the hard metals of his rings touching your burning skin as he rubs on your clit.

His fingers push deeper and deeper into your cunt as your head hits the pillow and you let out a loud moan of his name. He drops open mouthed kisses to your neck as he thrusts his fingers in and out your pussy, grunts leaving his lips at how your slick coats his fingers completely, the feeling of you clenching around his fingers and growing wet making his head dizzy.

“Do you see how fucking wet you are?” He whispers, suddenly shoving his fingers in your tiny mouth, making you gag but you suck nonetheless. He brings his fingers to his own mouth, licking your cum and moaning. “Just wanna fucking taste you.”

His eyes close as he delves into your pussy. He starts off slow, soft licks and nips of your already wet clit, you curl your toes, your vision becoming blurry due to the tears of pleasure but you can feel how fucking good he’s eating you out. His tongue laps at your clit, you whine and push his face closer, desperate for him to eat you out like it’s his last meal.

He kisses your folds, giving the delicate and wet skin a loud smooch before moving his lips and tongue at a pace that already has you crying out for him. He’s moaning into you, the sensation causing a vibration within your folds. “So fucking tasty.” He growls, the words muffled against your skin.

His nose presses against your pussy, you wrap your legs around his shoulders and he grips onto your ass, squeezing the flesh and giving it one compact spank before gripping onto your thighs, his grip so tight that you’re caged against him. His nails dig in and you’re sure he’s leaving harsh marks and your grip on his hair is so tight but neither of you care.

Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you the prettiest noises spill from your mouth when your climax hits, you squirt and drip all over your folds and he has every last bit of it, his lips lapping up your sticky wetness as if it’s a treat.

He leans back momentarily to appreciate the sight. Your hot cum leaking out of your tiny and tight hole, before he moves his tongue to lap up every last drop. It goes everywhere, all over his face, down his chin and neck but he’s grunting so loudly, begging you for more. “Taste so fucking good.”

“Jaemin.” You moan out, thrusting your pussy against him and reaching for his hard cock, desperate to feel him where you want him most. “Come on!!!!” You cry out.

He tuts at your impatience, eyes soft as he looks into your teary ones. “Yeah, yeah. Just be patient, baby.” His mouth pops, a sweet smile as you whimper at the use of the pet name, a sweet word said in such a mysterious and sensual way.

A realisation comes to you, have you even introduced yourself to him? Your mouth opens with a heavy moan when Jaemin’s eyes, dark and intense, locked with yours. You could hear the sound of his heavy breathing, a rhythmic echo that matched the quickening pace of your own heart.

You found yourself reacting instinctively. You bucked up slightly as Jaemin’s fingers deftly worked to loosen the belt around his jeans. Sliding it down his legs and tossing it far away.

He’s so hard. You hold his massive cock in your hands, eyes wide and mouth watering at the sheer size of it. You can feel the firmness beneath your fingertips. As you roughly rub his cock, he groans and drops his head to your shoulder, allowing you to touch away. Your fingers glide over the length, he removes your hands and replaces his own, dropping down and aligning his cock with your tight hole. His mouth pressing against yours with an open mouthed kiss.

“I’m Y/N by the way.” You gulp, voice barely audible due to the fucked state that you’re in.

“I know.” He whispers back.

You hum. “I know your name.” He groans louder. “Can I call you baby?” He asks with a smirk, you don’t know if he’s forgotten that he already has but his low and deep voice already has you weak in your knees so you nod enthusiastically.

“Please.” You whimper, feeling so incredibly turned on right now.

He distracts you with sweet kisses to your cheeks, when his cock finally enters your pussy but you’re instantly crying out from overstimulation and sensitivity. He’s so fucking big. You cry out when you realise he’s too big for you. You look down and the feeling of sadness intensifies when you realise only his tip has entered.

He coos in your ear, wiping your tears, holding your hand tightly in his and making the slightest of movements inside of you but you shake your head, a feeling that you can’t describe overtaking you. “You’re too big, it won’t fit. I can’t take it.” You say with an adamance.

“It will fit, baby.” He says simply, giving you a sweet smile and you get lost in his eyes, you find yourself instantly trusting him and it has you questioning yourself, you never trust this easily.

He kisses your temple softly, a tenderness that makes you whine and cry at the same time. You wrap your legs around his waist, craving the closeness. You nod, your doe eyes gazing into his as he makes you promises. “It will all fit, I know I’m big but I’ll make sure of it. I promise I’ll make you feel good, I’ll won’t hurt. I’ll go as slow as you want me to, ok?” His voice is filled with so much genuineness and by kindness that you find it impossible not to melt, your trust growing for him intensely.

He thrusts into you at a slow and sensual pace and before you know it, more and more of his length fills you up until you tighten around him, smiling at how fucking good and cosy it felt. “I told you baby, just trust me.” He smiles, looking down and cooing at the beautiful sight, your walls sucking him in and you tightening around him.

“You’re such a good girl, baby.” He purrs into your ear as he fucks into you at a pace that made your head spin. It was suddenly so fast, the headboard banging, skin slapping against skin, his hands slapping your ass, heavy breathing, passionate moans concealed even though they didn’t need to be, you had the house to yourself, however the two of you found comfort in smashing your lips against each other and moaning into each others mouths.

He fucks his cock deep into you hole, hitting your pleasure spot over and over again, your back arches, your toes curl and your pleasure pool deepens with every thrust. He wipes away your tears gently with his fingers, whispering words of praises that make you whine. The way he’s looking at you fucks your mind up and makes your head spin. His eyes are so soft and so piercing, you feel as though you don’t deserve to be looked at with this tenderness.

However when you try to cover your eyes with your hands, he takes your arms and cages them above your head, shaking his head firmly and giving you a serious look, enough to tell you that he wants to look at you as he fucks you.

Your pussy tightens around him and he groans, your walls continuously clenching around his cock and sucking him in deeper. Your thighs shake around his waist and his hand that’s slapping your ass becomes sloppier and slower. The noises of his cock fucking your wet and creamy cunt turns him on, the need to cum inside you deepening. His moans are more needy and the volume increases, his eyes darken in ways you didn’t expect. He’s pounding into you at an incoherent pace when he feels your high is near.

“Cum in me.” You beg into his ear, panting heavily and he lets out a growl at your needy side.

“Fuck, baby. Are you on the pill?”

You cry out, shaking your head when you remember he’s not even using protection, you were two horny sluts who forgot.

“Fuck. I forgot to wear a condom.” He says in an apologetic voice.

“I don’t care. Cum in me.” The words spill from your mouth so easily, you question whether you want to take it back but you take a look at him. His hair, a dark cascade, fell just above his dark and intense eyes and he hasn’t broken eye contact with you, not once. His smile, so boyish and warm.

Yeah. You’re definitely sure you want his cum in you.

His thrusts become slower and more messy but it still feels fucking good. He kisses you passionately when he cums, moaning against your mouth when you beg for his cum once again.

He fucks you through your high, you moan out his name as your hot cum leaks out of you but he fucks it back into you, his own cum coating your arousal, drops falling down your thighs and leaving a sticky mess. You look down and the sight is beautiful, you don’t know where you start or where he ends.

He paints your walls as he sighs at the feeling. As Jaemin’s lips met yours, there was an immediate rush of warmth and desperation, a culmination of longing transformed into a single, fervent kiss. His lips moved against yours with a passion that spoke volumes, tender yet insistent, The kiss deepened, and you could feel the gentle pressure of his mouth, the soft brush of his breath against your skin.

“Good girl.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss against your temple.

You fall asleep like that, in his strong arms and grip, his cock buried deep inside of you, thighs still sticky with cum and you know you needed to be cleaned up but as you lay on top of him, head resting against his chest, the lullaby of his heartbeat sends you to immediate sleep.

liked it??? send me an ask please <333 give feedback and share your thoughts it would mean the world to me

comment to be added to the tag list for part 2!! (will be a 4 part series)

taglist - @sexygrass @tywritesstuff @666-aiko @leep0ems @kyuuniversee @daegalfangirl @side-effects @kgneptun @thecaffeinatedfangirl @i6renj @hcaeh @buns-inhiding @pinknjm @nominsgirl @liliansun

969 notes · View notes

love-belle · 7 months

Text

give you my wild, give you a child !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which fans are once again spinning theories but they're just making more memories — and family members apparently.

for when you have everything you ever wanted. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - posting this before i go ghost for tomorrow and the day after tomorrow :// i love u so much thank u <3

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, heidiberger_ and 876,628 others

yourusername last night out for a while ❤️

12,528 comments

username i have trust issues

username someone ban that acc from updating abt y/n and charles i've had ENOUGH

username dad??????!!!!!!!!!

landonorris thank god i CANNOT babysit you anymore

-> yourusername i'm not that bad

-> landonorris you ran away from me and charles and we found you in a souvenirs shop trying on glittery boas

username mother mothering like mother never mothered before

-> yourusername literally

*yourusername deleted this comment*

username WHAT DO U MEAN BY LITERALLY?????

username me when u

username no bc these pictures are from WEEKS ago bc she posted an ig story and her hair was short and she's not even in monaco atm

-> yourusername slow down sherlock

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

*charles_leclerc added to their instagram stories*

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

*charles_leclerc and yourusername added to their instagram stories*

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,417,915 others

yourusername he's been moody lately and we finally found out why! u gave me ur wild and now ur giving me a child ❤️❤️❤️ thank u for making me a milf although i'll be doing the most for us but those 2 seconds won't go unappreciated

tagged charles_leclerc

13,837 comments

username GIRL REALLY VIOLATED HER BABY DADDY LIKE THAT

username LMFAOOSOOSOSJS

username "those 2 seconds won't go unappreciated" PLEASE

username milf to be ❤️

carlossainz55 godfather is me, no doubt?

-> danielricciardo back off

-> pierregasly please

-> maxverstappen1 hi?

-> landonorris i'm y/n's favourite

-> yourusername ur all equally shit

username IM SCREAMING AHSHSJWJEHSJ

charles_leclerc now if i say something i'm gonna be the bad guy

-> yourusername yes

charles_leclerc you said you loved me :(

-> yourusername i do bullying is js my love language

charles_leclerc can i even argue with you?

-> yourusername u have one (1) brain i have two don't

username im so so so excited to see how all this unfolds like this is gonna be a treat and im rubbing my hands js thinking abt it

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au

3K notes · View notes

xcixmoon · 1 year

Text

"you're mine and only mine, understood?" ࿐ ˊˎ-

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

reminder, most of my stories are 18+ - keep in mind when reading.

note: im utterly in love with this man and down terribly for him.

simon 'ghost' riley x reader ; simon riley x reader ; simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader ; jealous!ghost x reader ; ghost x reader ; possesive!ghost x reader.

characters mentioned: simon 'ghost riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick

warnings: smut, smut, smut, strong language and alcohol consumption.

THIS A 18+ BLOG, IF I SOMEHOW FIND OUT UR A MINOR INTERACTING W MY PAGE - I WILL BLOCK.

masterlist

after a long day of planning, the group agreed to out for drinks in order to let loose before wheels up in a couple of days. soap and gaz were excited as they kept saying drinks were on them and to not worry about paying.

you were in your room before the night began, trying to plan your outfit for the night. you heard a light knock on your door, "come in!" you told them.

you looked over to see ghost walking, "Simon," a smile appeared on your face.

"hey, love," he responded.

love.

you loved the nickname coming from him.

you were never the girl to care about nicknames in fact your sort of preferred to not have them in a relationship but my god does his accent make everything better.

you noticed he wasn't dressed in civvy clothes, "why aren't you dressed for tonight?" you asked him.

ghost was sitting on the edge of your bed, "I rather not go out tonight, just going to stay in with price to talk about what's upcomin'."

you rolled your eyes at him, "come on... come out with soap, gaz and I. it'll be fun." you looked at him.

"you know I prefer to stay in if I could." he responded. you walked over to ghost and sat on his lap.

"you don't wanna have fun with me?" you jokingly asked. ghosts hands slid down to rest at your hips, "I know other ways we could have fun, love." he told you.

butterflies fluttered within you, you began to slowly grind against him. a little moan escaped your lips when you began to speak, "we can have some fun right now," you lightly pushed simon down to lay on your bed, "but only if you agree to go out with me tonight."

"you really goin' to do this?" he asked you.

you nodded as you bit down on your lip whistle still moving your hips against ghosts lap. "please?" you asked nicely.

"fuckin' hell, how could I ever say no to that?" ghost grunted.

you giggled with excitement when he agreed, you began to take off your shirt to reveal your breast.

"did you plan this out?" ghost asked you as he sat up to start kissing you all over.

another thing to add to the list of things you love is that ghost practically worshipped your body. he was never the type to just dive into sex without showing you how much he loved all of you.

he wanted all of you to show how much he loves every bit.

you couldnt respond as he started kissing you and slowly moved to your neck. you loved having your neck kissed especially when he had one hand playing with one of your nipples. "fuck," you breathed out.

ghost took that as que to work his way down to your breast, his tongue working your nipple as he cupped it and began sucking. he nibbled on it slightly because he knew you loved it.

"simon..." you moaned in his ear.

"I love when you say my name like that love, do you like what I'm doing to you?" he asked cockily. of course he knew that you loved it but he also loved hearing you struggle with your words.

you nodded eagerly, "mhmm," was all you managed to get out.

ghost stopped kissing your body, "use your words, baby." he said.

you were upset that he stopped kissing you all over, "yes, I do. please, don't stop." you begged him.

a cocky, smug smile appeared on his face once you begged for me. ghost began again working his way from top to bottom, "for a second, I thought you were the one in charge tonight."

"shut up." you told him.

you wanted to be in charge but every time you easily melted under his touch.

it was rare that you were able to have full control. every once in a while ghost would encourage you to try to take the reigns for the night but you loved being worshipped by the man you love most that you just want him to do it.

ghost never complained.

he liked seeing you try to be the boss and found it cute when you would ask him to praise you instead.

“take your shirt off,” you told him. ghost did as you told to reveal his body. hes well in shape, you found his body beautiful with his scars that spread across his body. each time you traced your fingers on the scars, not to make ghost more aware of them but show him how much you loved him and them.

you began kissing each scar - his breath hitching with each kiss, getting lower to reach the top of his pants. You started unbuttoning his pants as ghost sat back and watched you.

You can see how hard he is under his briefs, “I wanna make you cum in my mouth first.”

Ghost threw his head back at your words, “first?” he asked you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, “We’ll be a little late, it’s okay.” you laughed.

you began removing his briefs and to reveal his hard cock. simon was above average in length, it wasn’t really surprising with how he was built and how he carried himself.

“Fuckin’ hell love, just suck it already.” simon pleaded. he was impatient and it amused you, instead of sucking him like he asked, you began stroking him.

simons hips bucked as your hands made contact, you looked up at him and seen him staring at you - watching every move. you flicked your tongue on the tip, the most sensitive part. “do you like when I do this?” you asked him as you began sucking him off.

“I love it, you look so beautiful taking me.” simon let out a moan as he felt the back of your throat. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. his beautiful girl was able to take all of him and he loved the sight of it, “that’s my girl.” he praised you.

“how am I already so fuckin close already? You just started.” simon cursed at himself, “I want to feel you, love.”

you stopped yourself, “you wanna fuck me?” You teasingly asked him.

simon grabbed you and laid you down on the bed. He removed your pants, “I want all of you.” He reminded you.

a smile spread on your face at his words, his head disappeared to between your thighs. he started kissing each leg slowly as he made his way to your wet clit.

“youre so fucking wet from just sucking me off,” he told you. ghosts fingers found their way to your clit, he began rubbing it slowly.

a slightly loud moan left your lips.

“that’s a good girl,” he said, “you’re so fucking pretty when you’re under me.” simon watched you for a bit as you squirmed under his touch before his tongue eventually replaced his fingers.

“dont stop,” you moaned as you grabbed a handful of his hair, you pulled him closer so he knew to keep going.

“you taste as good as always sweetheart, you want to taste yourself?” he asked as he brought his fingers up.

you didn’t answer before you began sucking on his fingers, “that’s my pretty girl… you taste good, don’t you?”

you nodded at his words, “please make me cum.” you asked.

simon returned to rubbing your clit, “im gonna put it in, alright?” he let you know ahead of time. you’ve been with simon for a while and knew how he felt every single time but needed to prepared yourself as he was bigger than average.

simon grabbed one of your hands and rubbed his thumb softly across before letting his other hand guide the way into you.

“ah!” you lightly yelped, “fuck.”

simon stopped and looked at you, “let me know when to stop baby.” he reassured you.

“keep going, it feels good.” you told him, you loved the way you felt around him no matter if there was a slight bit of pain in the start.

he always let you know if you needed to speak up or if he was hurting you then to let him know. he had no problem taking his time with making you feel good. he was the best lover you ever had.

simon slowly slid all the way in, “you’re so fucking tight sweetheart, holy shit.” he cursed.

all you could do was moan in response as he started fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. this man knew you so well that it always blew your mind.

“fuck, simon. that feels-“ you tried to speak but couldn’t finish as a moan escape your mouth instead of words.

“can’t finish your words?” he asked amused.

you nodded your head no at him and focused on the pleasure he was giving you. simon began kissing you while still fucking you and rubbing your clit.

yours and simons body both glistened with sweat as you both move in sync with each other. your moans filled the room, the sound he loves most coming out of you.

“I’m so close baby, fuckin’ hell.” simon breathed into your ear. he was never the type to moan, he was more of a grunting type but a few moans were able to escape his lips once in a while.

you grabbed simons face, “cum in me,” you told him. both faces filled with sweat as he kept fucking you and looking into your eyes.

“are you sure?” he finally asked, “don’t play with me.” you continued to look at your lover in the eyes and repeated your words, “cum in me baby. I want all of you.”

You let out a loud moan as simon listened to your words, he kept looking in your eyes before finally closing them tightly as he did the final hip buck as he pumped you full of his thick cum.

you came all over his cock just as he came in you.

“christ,” simon panted. “how does it get better every time?”

you kissed Simon on the lips and both agreed to freshen to to meet with gaz and soap seeing as how you were both late.

“I’ll wait out your door,” he told you before kissing you once more. “I love you.”

you kiss him a little longer, “I love you more.” you told him.

you quickly dress up in something simple, you knew if you took too long Simon would try to use that as an excuse to stay in.

you threw on a few jewelry pieces before throwing on a leather jacket that simon gifted you awhile back. you took a quick look in the mirror and notice someone left a gift on your collarbone.

you shook your head with a smile and met with simon outside.

“do you think people will notice this?” you asked him, showing your new mark.

simon smiled, “no.” He cleared his throat. “soap keeps callin’ so let’s hurry up.”

simons hand found it’s way to the small of your back to lead you to the car. you felt your face grow slightly red at the gesture.

ghost was never the one to show pda and this one of his simple ways of showing it when you both were out. He was a total different person out in public compared to when it’s just you both in a room.

it was never a bad thing and it never bothered you because he never ever neglected you just because he preferred to keep you both private. He had little gestures to let you know he loves you when you’re with others.

it could be the small glances, your secret signal when others were around or when he would take the time to whisper something in your ear so others couldn’t hear.

ghosts hand rested on your thigh as he drove you both to where gaz and soap were last at. you noticed that the bar was quite busy as there was a line outside forming to get in.

“let me call soap,” ghost told you.

“yeah, im here but there’s a line outside. I don’t feel like waitin’ Johnny.” He told mactavish that was on the line.

“yeah,” he looked over to you, “y/n is with me.”

you could hear the already drunk Scottish yell in the phone as ghost slightly pulled it away from his ear. “hurry up or we’re leavin’.”

ghost got out of the car and opened the door for you, “thank you baby,” you stole a quick kiss from him. you noticed he started to blush at the gesture and couldn’t help but find amusement in it.

“riley’s!!!” soap joked as he yelled towards you both as you were walking up, “shut up.” you punched him softly in the stomach.

“uncalled for.” ghost to soap said as he followed.

you went over to greet gaz as you spotted him at a table filled with glasses. “Is this all mactavishs’ doing?” you asked gaz.

“of course.” he chuckled - you gave him a hug before noticing some other friends behind. you looked at Simon, “im gonna go say hi.” as you gestured towards the girls. you tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt and he nodded.

“i’ll be here.” as he took a seat with gaz and soap.

ghost noticed the other men looking at you. he knew you never paid attention to any of them but couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy hit him.

soap snapped him out of his thoughts when he came back with drinks, “im not drinkin’ tonight.” ghost told them.

Soap looked at him in disappointment, “sorry johnny, got y/n with me.”

The drunk Scottish rolled his eyes, “more for gaz and I.” he laughed.

ghost kept an eye on you every once in a while. He just wanted to make sure you were safe and no one attempted to touch you while you were talking with your friends.

he knew you sure as hell could take care of yourself but he wanted you to enjoy your night as you were chatting with friends. you would often catch him looking at you and give him your signal for ‘I love you’.

he would return the signal and let you get back to your conversation.

as you continued your conversations, you noticed the time, it was getting late and didn’t want to keep simon out later than what he wanted. he isn't an extrovert and you knew he was possibly running out of his social battery.

you had a few drinks and felt a bit tipsy but also felt ready to go back to base. “It was great catching up with you guys, think ima head back to base.” you told your friends.

you walked over to the table where simon, gaz, and soap still sat. soap was slurring his words worse than before and gaz was having a laugh out of it. you walked over to Simon and could tell he was ready, “Im gonna go to the bathroom then we could head back?”

“whenever you’re ready.” he said as he rubbed your thigh under the table, a simple gesture to let you know to take your time.

“you boys better call it a night too,” you laughed at gaz and soap. “it’s past your bedtime.”

you heard mactavish talk loudly as you made your way to the bathroom, “did she just mom us???” he asked.

“she did mate and she’s not wrong.” gaz told him.

you freshened up in the bathroom quickly to hopefully to try to get rid of the tipsy in you but only with slight luck of doing so. as you walked out the door you walked into a tall figure, “sorry!” You asked.

the tall man turned around with a smile on his face, “no worries.” before you could make your way around him he walked in front of you again.

“oops, sorry again…” you told him.

The man didn’t move.

you rolled your eyes at him, as you made the attempt leave again, he spoke, “hey, aren’t you y/n l/n?” he asked.

you shook your head no, “sorry, wrong person.” you quickly told him. "i'm headed out for the night so if you dont mind..." you tried to push him to the side.

"no, you're definitely her. ive seen you on base before." the man said.

a fake smile spread across your face, "well nice to meet you and goodnight." you finally made your way passed him but he grabbed you by the wrist - pulling you back towards him.

you were unreasonably close to him, your back against his chest. he reeked of alcohol.

oh god.

"let go of me," you said.

"im just trying to ge-"

before the man can continue to finish his sentence, you dug the back of your shoe into his and elbowed him in the nose when he bent down in pain.

"don't touch a woman when shes not interested." you warned him.

"you bitch!" he yelled as blood came out of his nose.

the whole bar was looking at your direction, you felt a presence behind you soon after. "the hell is goin' on here?" ghost asked.

"this prick wouldn't let me leave the door way." you told him.

you noticed ghost tense up, his hand formed a fist - you quickly turned around to make ghost bring his attention towards you. your hands rested on his face and you lowered his gaze towards you and he softened his look on you, "lets just leave." you told him.

you heard the man yell more as he was being thrown out but you were hand in hand with simon to try to quickly leave. gaz and soap were too wasted to drive themselves so they hitched a ride.

the tension in the car was suffocating.

"you guys held hands in public." soap spoke.

"shut it johnny." ghost warned.

you looked in the rear view mirror as soap threw his hands in defeat, "i was just sayin'..."

you couldn't help but smile at his silliness.

once you reached base gaz took soap immediately to the bathroom as he was on the verge of throwing up. you looked at ghost and could see he was still tense.

"come on," you took his hand and you both walked into his room.

you closed the door and turned around to meet ghosts lips once more.

"i love you," he said - "you're mine and only mine, understood?" he asked.

"are you mad?" you asked him.

ghost stopped kissing you to look at you, "im mad but not at you. im mad that people think they have the right to touch you when they're not me."

you pulled him in again for more kisses as those words left his lips, "i always feel jealous when people look at you." he spoke as he trailed down your neck - "i dont blame them but you're mine."

"im only yours, simon." you reassured him.

"does it bother you that i dont kiss you in public?" he finally asked, ghost stepped away from you and moved to the other side of the room. "im not exactly prince charming..." he trailed off.

you walked over to him, "no, because i know you love me and the little gestures we do make it even better. its like we have our language." you laughed as you hugged him from behind.

you felt his hands touch yours, "you are the love of my life, simon riley." you reminded him.

he turned to face you again, he picked you up - you wrapped your legs around him as you were finally eye level with him. "im a lucky man to have you." he said before kissing you.

he kissed you eagerly, with each kiss it was a step towards his bed.

you felt your back meet the bed as simon was still kissing you, "i want all of you again."

"i want you forever and always." you told him.

simon took off your jacket and shirt to reveal your lace bra, "is this new?" he asked as he was raising a brow.

you smiled, "just for you."

"matching?" he asked another.

"possibly, i guess you gotta reach the final destination to find out." you teased him.

simon returned to kissing you once more, taking his time as he reached to your breasts. your nipples harden as his tongue played with them over the lace.

he was teasing you.

"take it off..." you whined.

simon smiled as you did so, "was this expensive?"

"yes but i just want it off, please." you begged him.

simon pulled a pocket knife from his pants and put the blade on the center of the lace bra. your breasts spilling out of the newly cut bra. "so fuckin' perfect." he said before continuing his focus on your nipples.

you and simon have done knife play in the bedroom before but hes never used it to cut your bra off and its been a while since you've included it in the bedroom.

you felt more aroused at his actions, you tried to remove your pants along with simons but he stopped you, "are you the boss tonight?" he asked.

you didnt respond as you positioned yourself on top of simon, straddling him.

"im the boss because im desperate for you right now." you told him, an amused look spread across his face as he watched you remove the remaining of your clothing and his.

he looked at you with such awe as he watched you please yourself on him, slowly grinding against him to get your pussy more wet before beginning to ride him. his tip perfectly rubbed against your clit and you moved your hips against him.

"oh fuck," simon cursed.

you were a pretty sight to see as you threw your head back and your perfect moans filled his ears, you put some spit on the tip of his cock before slowly entering it within you.

"be careful, love." he told you, his hands rested at your hips to help you ease on him. you were unbelievably wet from teasing yourself on him and he knew that. "shit, shit, shit..." simon cursed.

you were able to finally sit perfectly on him and began riding at a steady pace.

simon had one arm resting behind his head with the other on your thigh as he just watched you please yourself on him, "you're doing so fucking good, my pretty girl." he praised.

this drove you wild as you began to quicken the pace, "dont rush it baby, im here all night for you." he reminded you. your pussy was throbbing from the pleasure you were giving yourself from simons cock, "tell me how much you love it."

all the words just evaporated from your brain to even try to explain how much you loved feeling him within you. you were fucking yourself dumb on his cock while he just watched in pleasure.

"mh- i dont ever want to stop." you managed to finally say.

"then dont stop baby, keep going until you cant." he said. his thumb found it way to your clit. you positioned yourself slightly back to let him play with it more as you continued to fuck yourself on him.

simon moved his thumb slowly and would randomly quicken the pace, he did the opposite of how you were moving. you've never experienced this amount of pleasure as you never often rode simon.

"fuck," you moaned loudly, "dont stop. im so fucking close simon!" you yelled.

simon moved positions to allow himself to finish the work of your doing to also give you a break. he didnt stop the pace you were moving at. your back pressed against the bed as simon was now towering over you.

"you did so good fuckin' yourself on me, love" he praised you, "im so proud of you." he kissed you.

the sound of your two bodies connecting filled the room, you both were so lucky that there were no other rooms near you. that luckily no one care hear you.

"am i cummin' in you?" simon asked.

you nodded eagerly as he continued to pound into you, "fuck, yes simon." you yelled. you felt him slow his pace, his thick cum spilling out of you.

there was so much of it.

"fuckin' love you" simon said as he finished.

you felt lightheaded from the high you both rode out. "i love you more."

simon grabbed a towel and some clothes for you, "let me clean you up, love."

you smiled at him as he did so, "lets get some rest?" he kissed your lips.

your eyes felt heavy, you felt him cover you up with his bed sheets before you fell asleep to leave simon smiling at you.

#cod fanfic #ghost fanfic #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #fem!reader #fanfic #simon ghost riley smut #call of duty modern warfare #modernwarfareuniverse #modern warfare 2 #cod smut #mw2 smut

10K notes · View notes

elliespassagerprincess · 7 months

Note

Can we please get some milf Abby or Ellie the lesbians who like older women are in a drought

💘

Headcannons: milf!abby anderson x reader

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

☆ Milf Abby who was divorced and who had full custody of her 4-year-old daughter.

☆ Milf Abby who worked as a lawyer and got her daughter into the best schools.

☆ Milf Abby who went to a parent teacher meeting, to meet her daughters’ new teacher.

☆ Milf Abby who met you for the first time and thought you were the prettiest thing she’d ever seen.

☆ Milf Abby who stood behind everyone else because you made her shy.

☆ Milf Abby whose palms felt sweaty when you walked close to the direction where she was standing.

☆ Milf Abby whose heart rate increased when you asked the parents “any questions?” with a smile.

☆ Milf Abby who went home that night and stared at the ceiling because she just saw an angel.

☆ Milf Abby who asks her daughter about you the next morning.

“What’s she like?” Abby asked as she placed the plate of scrambled eggs in front of Aubrey.

“she’s nice” the little girl started. “she always likes my drawings, and she tells funny stories!”

A small smile appeared on Abby’s face.

Pretty and funny, huh?

“she’s pretty too” Aubrey said with her mouth full off eggs. Abby chuckled at that.

“Your right baby, she is”

☆ Milf Abby who almost shit herself when Aubrey told you that she finds you pretty.

“You did what?” Abby said frantically.

“I told my teacher that you said she was pretty”

Abby groaned, her large hand coming to rub her temples.

“Baby you aren’t supposed to tell that to people, it was a secret”

“Yeah, it was red ones”

“But Heathers dad brought her flowers, and that’s not a secret”

“what?”

“roses?”

“I think so” she spoke

☆ Milf Abby who gets jealous even though she barley knows anything about you.

☆ Milf Abby who watches Heathers dad bring you snacks almost daily when she picks up Aubrey.

☆ Milf Abby who wants to vomit every time you smile at him.

☆ Milf Abby who realizes she had to make a move.

☆ Milf Abby who was nervous because it’s been a while since she’s asked someone on a date.

☆ Milf Abby who writes you a letter and sends it with her daughter.

“My mommy sent you this” Aubrey ran to you with a white envelope. You thanked her, as you opened the letter, eyes widening at what it had to say:

“Hi, are you Tennessee because you’re the only ten I see.

I’m sorry I know that was inappropriate I didn’t know what to say.

Would you like to go on a date with me? I promise no cheesy pickup lines”

☆ Milf Abby who almost jumps out of her car when she sees you walking towards her.

☆ Milf Abby who rolls down the window and tries to act cool.

“Sup” she said, but soon cringed.

You giggled “I’d love to go on a date with you Miss Anderson”

“Call me Abby”

“Abby… I’d love to go out with you”

A grin spread onto the blondes face.

“Friday?”

“Friday”

☆ Milf Abby who fist bumps the air because she’s just that excited.

☆ Milf Abby who almost cancelled because she was so nervous.

☆ Milf Abby who asks her 4-year-old outfit advice.

“What about this?”

“No”

“Aubrey you can’t keep saying no”

“But I don’t like it”

☆ Milf Abby who kisses her daughter goodbye as she bought you a bigger bouquet of roses.

☆ Milf Abby who takes you to a fancy restaurant to impress you.

☆ Milf Abby who finds out you were 20 years younger than her.

Abby blinked a couple of times at the information.

“26?”

“yeah… do I not look my age you?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You really don’t”

☆ Milf Abby who enjoys the date more than she intended to.

☆ Milf Abby who almost combusts when you gave her a kiss on the cheek.

☆ Milf Abby who goes home that night in denial that she liked someone so young.

Age is nothing but a number, but you were years younger. What were you doing with someone like her? Why her? Why not someone your age? What happens if Abby grows so old that you become bored?

☆ Milf Abby who ghosts you for 5 months.

☆ Milf Abby who avoids looking at you when she gets her daughter from school.

☆ Milf Abby who ignores your texts because she thought you deserve someone better.

☆ Milf Abby’s daughter who gave her an awaking.

“Can you stop crying at night mommy? It makes noise”

Abby looked up from the stove.

“you hear that?”

“Yes”

A few seconds of silence passed before Aubrey spoke again. “You made my teacher sad”

“she’s sad?”

“yes and she asked me about you”

“and what did you say?”

“Nothing, you said it was a secret” Abby groaned at Aubrey’s response

“you need to stop pushing people away because you’re insecure”

Abby looked at Aubrey with wide eyes.

She was right, because Abby was so insecure she’s losing a perfect girl because she was scared. How sure was she that you would leave her? How sure was she that you were only using her? Maybe you were the one.

“Where did you hear those words?”

“from grandpa” she said with a shoulder shrug.

“He said that to Nora”

Your back was facing the door as you were writing something on the board.

“of course he did”

☆ Milf Abby who goes to your classroom the next day with flowers.

“I’m sorry” she spoke. She watched you flinched as you turned around.

“what?”

“I’m sorry for just disappearing and not saying anything”

“ok” was all you said as you turned back around to continue writing.

Abby walked towards you with long strides.

“no- no don’t say ok please- give me a chance”

she watched you sigh as you turned around:

“look Miss Anderson-“

“Abby”

“Miss Anderson” you said through gritted teeth.

“It’s ok, this should have not happened”

“Don’t say that”

“Let’s move on, I’ll pretend this never happened” you said with a fake smile on your face.

“god you’re so-“ before Abby could even finish her sentence she grabbed your face, and caught your lips in a kiss.

☆ Milf Abby who was surprised when you kissed her back.

☆ Milf Abby who whimpered when you pulled away.

“What can I do to fix this?” she spoke as she held your face.

“take me out on a date again”

a smile spread on the blondes face: “yeah I’ll do that”

☆ Milf Abby who realizes you won’t make it easy for her.

☆ Milf Abby who was willing to work for this relationship because you were worth it.

2K notes · View notes

toruro · 11 months

Text

— ✧ crazy stupid love

pairing. kwon soonyoung x reader

description. your best friend, turned fuck buddy, seems a little too upset about your latest instagram post ...

tags. smut (18+), fwb to lovers, some angst, fluff, confessions, mean dom → switch hoshi, jealousy, arguments (dw there is resolution), angry sex, biting, dacryphilia, degrading (+ discussion of degradation), use of safeword, slightly inspired by crazy stupid love

w/c. 3.6k

a/n. happy birthday hoshi! ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months but i figured i should wrap it up and post it today :3

"who's this?" soonyoung asks, holding his phone up to your face. on the screen is a picture that you posted on your story last night, your friend with an arm around your shoulder.

"huh, that's dongwoo," you say, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows. the back of your head is leaning against his shoulder as your legs are propped up on the other end of the sofa. soonyoung came over to watch the harry potter marathon with you a few hours ago, but with the showing break going on right now, you're both taking some time to catch up on your phones.

"who's that?" soonyoung says flatly, not looking at your face as he pulls his phone back, squinting at the photo. his gaze feels oddly scrutinizing, but you don't say anything about it just yet.

sitting up from your position, soonyoung frowns as you lift yourself off of him to sit across from him on the couch. "you don't remember dongwoo? he went to high school with us?" soonyoung gives you a blank stare. "jeong dongwoo? doesn't the name ring a bell?"

the name does ring a bell, but soonyoung only shrugs and replies, "uh, no i can't say it does."

"no way! we had chem with him! he was really nice and good at labs too," you go on, reminiscing about your memories from your teen years.

"that's weird, i don't remember him." that's a lie—soonyoung definitely remembers dongwoo, but he doesn't remember him ever being as smitten with you as he looks on your post.

"well whatever," you brush off, leaning back onto soonyoung's arm. "he was in town and dmed me asking if i wanted to catch up over dinner."

"a date?" soonyoung asks shamelessly.

you scoff. "no. not a date. just two friends meeting up for dinner."

"a guy and a girl don't meet up for dinner and not call it a date," your friend argues, and then you lift yourself off of him again. soonyoung is slightly annoyed you aren't curled up by his side anymore, but he's even more annoyed by dongwoo's stupid smile on his stupid face with his stupid arm around you.

"what are you talking about? we go out for dinner all the time! those aren't dates," you tell him as a matter of factly, frowning slightly as you do.

"yeah," soonyoung murmurs with a humorless laugh. "and we usually fuck afterwards, so our case is obviously different."

heat courses through your body as the words leave his lips. it's not like he's wrong, but the shamelessness of it all is a little more than you're used to. you're used to the deafening silence and the unspoken words that fill the gaps every time soonyoung leaves you breathless, every time he leaves your brain empty, every time he fucks you.

after he says that, there's that thick, ugly silence wedging itself between you and soonyoung again. you don't like it, not one bit.

"whatever," you finally huff out, not sure if you should lay back down on him or continue sitting up, sensing that soonyoung might want to make a bigger deal out of this than is good for him. "it wasn't a date, i don't know what else to tell you."

neither of you know why you're trying to convince him of this. it shouldn't matter if it was a date or if it wasn't, if dongwoo had an arm around your shoulder, if his touch lingered more, fingers ghosting down your body, up your thigh—

that's what soonyoung tries to tell himself—that it doesn't matter, that none of it matters, that you don't matter to him—at least not like that. too bad he can't control himself. soonyoung can never control himself when it comes to you, and he's starting to wonder if that's a blessing or a curse.

he scoffs, "you're being a real brat right now."

your eyes narrow at him and while this would usually put you in one of those moods—the mood where you want to yank your pants off, have soonyoung's hand in your panties—you're slightly annoyed right now. "what's that supposed to mean?" you ask accusingly, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

it's a thoughtless gesture but your tits bunch up together and the curve peeks over the collar of your loose shirt. soonyoung stares for a moment and then thinks about if dongwoo looked at you like this. like he wanted to grab your tits, tweak your pretty nipples between his fingers, drink in your moans while he licks into your mouth.

the thought has red flashing through his vision and before you can even think, there's a pair of hot, wet lips on yours and soonyoung is kissing you like he'll die if he doesn't. teeth gnashing against each other as one of his hands wraps around your torso, the other goes up to grab one of your tits, massaging the flesh with his palm.

yeah, you said you were annoyed, but yeah soonyoung is a great kisser and your mind is throttling, going back and forth as you try to decide if you should give in or attempt to hold your own. "soonyoung," you pant as you break away to take a breath, but his lips are on yours again too quickly for you to form a reply.

you find your resolve running thin as you thread your finger into his hair, bringing his face closer as he shifts on the couch above you, knees on either side of you, caging you in. his mouth his pressing kisses to the side of your lips now, peppering your cheeks, and then he's on your neck.

your lips aren't occupied but any words of protest have effectively died in your throat as you squirm under soonyoung when he sinks his teeth into your skin, whining out his name. your hips buck into his for some much needed tension and you can feel soonyoung chuckled against your skin as he licks over the reddening mark.

you feel dizzy when he pulls away and admires the way he's quite literally marked his territory on you. scoffing out loud, soonyoung gives you mean look. "wonder what dongwoo will think about this ..." your mind races at the words—what soonyoung means by that is still a bit of a mystery to you, but the fact that he's so hell bent on keeping you to himself is ... it's turning you on like crazy.

and soonyoung doesn't stop there as he pulls off his shirt and you try to shimmy out of your pants. "what'll he think, huh? his cute little crush ..." he murmurs, looking down at you after your pants are off and thrown to the side, leaving you in just your soiled panties. "his dream high school sweetheart with her legs open, pussy dripping, for a guy who isn't even her fuckin' boyfriend ... like a fuckin' slut."

you gasp when he brings up a thumb to toy with your clit through the fabric, hips jerking up at the contact. "w-what are you—" you're cut off by your own moan when soonyoung pushes the cloth to the side, slipping one finger into your aching cunt without warning. you really want to ask soonyoung what he means by all this, but it just feels so good—too good, and you can't help it at all—your body seems to always give into him.

his finger is already hitting that one spot that he knows has you seeing stars, and your jaw goes slack at how quickly the pleasure is all hitting you. usually, soonyoung likes to work you up to it; starts by playing with your clit for a few hot minutes 'til you're begging for just some fingers inside and then he toys with you for another good while before he finally gives you his cock and fucks you dumb. something tells you today is a bit different.

today is very different, but you have a strong feeling that you won't mind. because all it takes is a few more quick flicks of his wrist and you're crying out his name, saying, "'m gonna cum—soon-soonyoung, 'm cumming!"

you thrash around on the cushions as your orgasm hits you, and soonyoung buries his head into your neck and biting down even harder than before. the slight sting has your senses heightening and your cunt throbs around his fat fingers as he fucks you through the high, not relenting until your neck is littered with hot red marks and you're quivering beneath him.

a content sigh escapes your lips when he slips out of you, allowing yourself a moment to breathe as you start to sit up when soonyoung narrows his eyes at you, unbuckling his jeans in the process.

"don't move," he warns and although you furrow your brows, you comply nonetheless, letting your head fall back against the couch as you watch him shove down his pants and boxers in one go. soonyoung's fat length springs out, hitting against his abdomen as he shuffles his way in between your legs.

pressing his lips together, he asks, "color?" and when the word green is slipping softly from his mouth, he finds it hard to hold back. "fuck, how are you this needy already," he groans when he catches the look on your face—your bottom lip jutted out as you look up at him with shining eyes.

soonyoung grabs your cheek with one hand roughly, shoving a thumb into your mouth as he positions his cock between your folds. you're quick to wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking hard and swirling your tongue in hopes that it'll egg him on to just stick it in already, but instead he just slides his length up and down your folds.

you pout around his thumb but don't stop sucking, letting the drool run down your chin as tears well up in your waterline, and soonyoung chuckles at the look. "go on baby, go on. know you want it," he coos mockingly, continuing to cover his length in your slick but not actually giving you what you want.

"soonyoungie," you whimper when you can't take it anymore, trying to lift your hips yourself so he'll get the message but then he's pressing down on your stomach and holding you in your place.

"be patient slut," he demands, and your eyes press closed when he does, walls clenching around nothing as the word slips from his mouth. "you just came—are you really that insatiable?"

you nod dumbly as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, using the same, wet hand to tightly squish your cheeks together. soonyoung thinks you look so cute like this—puffy lips and lashes thick with tears—and he doesn't give you even a moment's warning when he snaps his cock inside of you in one go.

his balls are pressed against your ass, and soonyoung holds himself there for just a moment before he's pulling back and thrusting back into you. "god fuck—perfect pussy," he groans, thrust after thrust as you throttle against the couch with the increasing force.

you can feel your ass and thighs burn from the way his skin slaps against yours every single time, the sensation only adding fuel to the fire as you cry out his name.

"bet dongwoo thought about this," soonyoung moans as he starts jamming his cock into you less methodically and more sloppy, more hard, more fierce. "thought 'bout having you moaning his name like the pretty whore you are."

you try to mewl something along the lines of, "we're just friends," but it comes out as nothing but a high pitched moan as your second orgasm creeps up on you.

and it's fucking mind-numbing, and you don't think you've ever cum so hard and so fast but soonyoung is grinning down at you as you arch your back and squeeze around his cock so tight it almost pushes him off the edge but no—he's determined to keep going until you can't take it anymore.

"keep goin' baby, i know you can take it." he hardly gives you a second to rest, thrusts slowing only for a few moments as he watches you cream his cock before letting his hands roam all over you.

in your overstimulated haze, you hardly realize when soonyoung flips you over, cock still buried deep inside your hot cunt as you try to stabilize yourself on your knees. his hand is on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the cushions so hard it muffles your moans as his cock batters your buzzing pussy.

he's ramming into you so hard now and all you can feel is white hot pleasure ripping through your body, soonyoung whispering about how you're his filthy little slut, taking everything he's giving you. gripping onto the side of the couch, you try to hold yourself together, you really, really do, but it's too much all at the same time and the word slips from your lips before you even have to think about using it.

"r-red." it's so quiet and hoarse the first time that you aren't even sure if he can hear you so you cry out again, "red, s-soonyoung, red."

it's all a haze when soonyoung slips out of you slowly, giving you both a few moment to adjust as you finally catch your breath over the hiccups of your soft whimpers.

now soonyoung likes seeing you cry, but not when it's like this. he likes seeing you whine and tear up when you're under him and writhing from pleasure, but what he doesn't like is the way your eyebrows are furrowed like this. 'cause when he looks at you now, he sobers up and the anger that fogged his mind just moments ago is clearing up.

"s-shit, i'm sorry," he says quickly as you curl up against the cushions, limbs still quivering from all the pleasure and stimulation. soonyoung wants to reach out, wants to touch you—hold you—and ask you what wen wrong, promise you that he didn't meant to go too far, promise you that he didn't even realize it, but he's not sure if he should.

because right now you won't meet his gaze and he's wondering if he's somehow royally fucked up what's likely the best thing he's got going on his life.

soonyoung's lost for a few moments before senses are snapping into him and he thinks he should get you some water, a towel—do anything except sit here dumbly like he is right now. but when he shuffles away from you and is about to step of the couch he feels a familiar touch around his wrist and he gapes down at you.

"wait," you mumble, finally looked up at him once the tears have stopped flowing. soonyoung stills for a moment, and he's not sure if he should take that as in invitation to move closer or just stay put, but then you're tugging him softly and he can't help but cave. "can y-you lay on top of me?" you ask timidly, and soonyoung gives you a weird look as if to ask, are you sure? "i, uh, i think it'd help me. please?"

that's all takes for him to drape his whole body over you, arms pressed against your side and hands stroke your shoulders. your bare chests are pressed against you and soonyoung swears your rapid heartbeats sync up on the spot as you breaths start to relax.

when all finally feels calm, soonyoung takes a moment to finally ask you the question that's been bothering him this whole time. lifting his head, he finds you looking right back at him. "are you okay? what went wrong?"

"i—yes, i'm okay."

"a-are you sure? you can tell me anything you know—i won't judge, i won't care—i mean obviously i'll care but you know what i mean and—" he starts to ramble, and your lips almost twitch up into a smile, "—and i'm sorry this isn't about me but i'm worried i did something and might have majorly fucked things up and—"

"soonyoung," you say, voice all breathy and light. "slow down, i'm okay."

"are you?" he asks, and his voice is so shaky you frown.

"yes, i promise. i'm, well, i think i just got overwhelmed. it was a lot and happened really quickly and it was a bit more intense than i'm used to," you admit. "not that i didn't like it ... i just wasn't expecting it."

soonyoung watches you carefully as you speak, sitting up and pulling you up in the process too. "i'm sorry—i didn't realize," he confesses. "i was—" he inhales sharply wondering if he should admit his jealousy, "— a bit lost in my own head. i shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. do you want me to get you water?"

you nod and he stands up, heading to the kitchen to grab you a glass. when he sits back down, next to you, soonyoung is relieved when you curl up by his side, gulping down the drink before questioning him. "um, can i ask what you mean by, uh, lost in your head? wait actually—before you answer that—" you pause, "—do you really think i'm a slut?"

soonyoung's eyes widen. "no—fuck, god no. i just—you know, we usually—you know—degrade. if you don't like it i'll stop and—"

"no no, soonyoung, like, i meant outside of sex. do you think i was—i dunno—messing around with dongwoo?"

dongwoo? "no—i don't think you're a slut for that. shit, i'm sorry—i don't even know what the fuck got into me. i just—i don't even know. okay fuck. fuck. okay. i was jealous."

"of dongwoo? we didn't even fu—"

"i know. i know—it shouldn't even matter because we're not exclusively fucking or whatever but i got jealous okay? i don't know—i fucking love you so i saw him with his stupid hand around you and i wanted to punch him in the fuckin' face."

your eyes snap wide at that. "what? you—fuck—what?"

soonyoung hardly even realizes he's confessed until you're looking up at him with those wide eyes and he wonders how he's managed to dig himself deeper into this hole. shit, there's really no getting out of this now. he might as well crawl down further and sit there for the rest of his life and—

"i, uh—i didn't know you felt the same way."

"what? what do you mean the same way—"

"are you stupid, soonyoung?"

"um, kind of."

you laugh and kiss him hard for a second. suddenly you're pressing his shoulders and swinging a leg over his thighs so you can straddle his laps.

"wait hold on," he murmurs, but continues to wrap his arms around your waist as you lift your hips to align yourself over his still hard cock. "a-are you sure? are you okay?"

"yeah," you mutter, kissing him again as you wrap your arms around his neck. "can we take it a little easier from here though?"

soonyoung doesn't hesitate to say, "yes, of course—" but the last word gets cut off by a hitch of his breath when you sink down on him, the two of you moaning in unison at the feeling. his hands are gripping your waist and holding you down as he relaxes, leaning back into the seat as he casually says, "i am never calling you a slut again. or anything degrading for that matter." it's half a joke, half not, and you can tell he's still on edge.

"i like it," you admit as you adjust yourself on his lap, not really moving yet though. "just—i was a bit worried today. i thought you— i dunno. didn't know you liked me too and i didn't know what to think."

soonyoung furrows his brows but can't find the right words to say, so he kisses you instead, pulling you up so his cock drags out of halfway before gently letting you fall back down, tip hitting your walls slowly but deep.

"fuck," you moan into his mouth, holding his head closer to yours. absentmindedly, you lift your hips up again and then grind down methodically, causing both of you to break away from the kiss and look down at the sloppy wet mess where you connect.

and as you both get lost in the moment, fingers grappling at each other's burning skin, letting your bodies melt together, it dawns on you that you and soonyoung have fucked a countless amount of times but this is the first (of many) that you two have made love.

it's an entirely new experience, dreamy eyes and wet, passionate kisses with whispers of love confessions under your breaths and the smooth and damn good thrusts that slowly but surely bring you to the edge.

"feels so good," soonyoung moans, thrusting up into you gently to meet your bounces as you steady him with your arms around his shoulders.

"g'na cum, soonyoungie?" you try to coo, but it comes out as a whimper of your own as you feel that knot in your belly threaten to snap. and when he's nodding into your neck and sucking on the skin, you both fall apart in each other's arms.

cries and grunts mix together in a beautiful song and when you and soonyoung look at each other, sweating, flushed, teary eyed, and so fucking in love, you know that whatever happens with the two of you after this, it will work.

a/n. hope u enjoyed it!

tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji (strikethrough could not be tagged)

3K notes · View notes

cozage · 8 months

Note

I love your work and how you write story's, I just want ask, Zoro and Sanji's confession? They could be separated or together I'm not picky! You can choose the story btw, Sanij feels like a malewife finna be honest

Confession

Send me an event request!

Characters: g/n reader x Sanji, Zoro Cw: post battle for Zoro but nothing crazy Total word count: 460

Zoro

“That was sloppy!” Zoro scolded, storming over to you.

“I got it done, didn’t I?” you snapped back. Zoro would be the only person to critique you after you had just taken down five men single-handedly.

“And you’ll get yourself killed in the future if you do it like that again!” He sheathed his swords and offered his hand to you.

“Oh yeah? And what do you care if I live or die?” You stood up without taking his hand, staring daggers at him.

“I care.”

You scoffed, turning around and heading back to the ship. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Hey!” Zoro’s hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him. “I care. A lot.”

You were so close to him, you could feel his ragged breath steamy against your skin. His fingers ghosted across your arms, sending shivers down your back. Your own breath caught in your throat, electricity humming through your veins.

His eyes fixated on your lips. “I just don’t always know how to show it.”

You wanted to ask him what he meant, but you were frozen in the moment. Waiting for him to make a move.

His fingers moved up your arms and danced along your jawline, cupping your cheeks and anchoring you to him. Then his lips pressed firmly against yours, and your entire world flipped upside down as he kissed you with everything he had.

Sanji

Sanji had confessed his love for you every day since you met him. It never felt real, especially considering he would go tell every other girl the exact same thing the moment you left his frame of view.

But then Sanji stopped saying it to other girls. He only reserved his sweet talk for you, Nami, and Robin. And even then, he was always sweeter with you than with the others.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked, walking into the kitchen. “Why did you make me this chocolate heart? Nami and Robin said they didn’t get one?”

“I told you, my love,” Sanji cooed, looking at the heart in your hands. “I’ve given you my heart!”

“Right.” You rolled your eyes, but your heart beat faster in your chest. “I bet you say that to every girl you see.”

“I used to,” he admitted. “But I haven’t said it to another soul in the past 42 days.”

“Really?” you scoffed. “And why’s that?”

“Because 42 days ago is when I realized it.” Sanji took a step closer to you, and your breath caught in your throat as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s when I realized I loved you with all my heart. And you’re the only one for me, now.”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x you #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #cozage #✧˚zoro✧˚#✧˚sanji✧˚

2K notes · View notes

reiding-writing · 22 days

Note

hi red !! i'm sending through a rec for your climacteric event hehehehe <3

spencer reid x fem!reader with the colour prompts red 1 ("You're bleeding."), green 2 ("You're safe here, I promise."), and purple 1 ("You know you're my best friend, right?") please? LOVE YOU LOADS RAHHHH

SCARECROWS [CLIMACTERIC]

1. “You’re bleeding.”

2. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

1. “You know that you’re my best friend, right?”

WARNINGS: reader injury, blood duh, mentions of being stabbed <3

spencer reid x reader || hurt/comfort || 1.6k || event page!!

a/n: you adding the direct quotes made my job so much easier in finding them rip 😭 thanks for the request ml <333

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ event masterlist!!

Sometimes you wondered why you joined the FBI.

If by making one different decision you’d be in a completely different career in a different part of the country with a husband and children living in a two story house with a white picket fence.

Spencer would probably fill you in on the butterfly effect, how a single flap of a butterfly’s wings could change the trajectory of the wind and spin into a tornado, or in your case, leave you stranded and unarmed in an overgrown cornfield with your only company being the crows flying overhead.

It was arguably, definitely, your fault, but what were you supposed to do when the unsub was running off into the night after you’d finally tracked him down.

He’d slipped under the radar for too long, you weren’t going to let it happen again.

Though you weren’t going to lie, you were starting to regret not waiting for the rest of the team.

How were you supposed to know that the welfare check you were sent on would turn into a chase?

They were twelve minutes out last time you checked. You didn’t have signal anymore, who knew how close they were now.

All you knew was that you were a sitting duck with an empty magazine in an unfamiliar location with a light level so low you could barely see your own feet.

You’d lost the unsub a good few minutes ago, and you weren’t about to stand around with nothing to protect yourself with, so you started running back the way you came, hopeful that it would bring you out back at the farmhouse, with floodlights and a phone signal.

You weren’t that lucky.

You never were.

—

“Oh my god—“ Emily sounds like she’s seen a ghost as she cups her left hand over her mouth, her right lowering to her side until her gun is limply resting in her fingers.

Her face is a mix of relief, astonishment and absolute horror, and as the team follow her gaze they mirror one by one until the whole group is frozen in abject shock.

You were alive, thank god, but you were also stumbling backwards out of the corn field like a final girl in a horror movie, completely disheveled and torn up with your attention completely focused on the rows of stalks in front of you like you were afraid something was going to pop out and finish you off.

The sight was enough for Spencer to feel like he was going to throw up his stomach, although whether out of relief or anxiety he wasn’t exactly sure.

Either way he was pocketing his gun and practically sprinting in your direction the second he got a full view of you, no care for what you were running from in his mind whatsoever.

At least you were okay.

“Hey-” His hand barely grazes over your shoulder before your instincts kick in and you swing your elbow outwards with the intent of sending it straight into his face.

It hits him directly underneath his nose, sending his neck back sharply to stop any worse injury occurring under the force of your arm.

It doesn’t deter him though, and he doesn’t so much as even cover his nose from the pain as he takes your arms in his hands to swivel you in his direction so that you can see that you aren’t in danger.

“Hey- Hey, it’s just me you’re okay, you’re safe here I promise,”

The flicker of absolute terror in your eyes makes him swear his heart is going to shatter, and even as he watches it fizzle out under the realisation that he wasn’t someone to be afraid of that small pit in his stomach didn’t disappear.

You looked bad.

Your hands were grazed and raw, you were covered in mud, half of your shirt had been ripped from the hem and tied around your left thigh — presumably as some sort of makeshift bandage, and you were so much paler than you usually were, all of the colour completely drained from your face until you looked almost translucent under the mix of moonlight and blared foglights.

“You’re bleeding— Did I do that? I’m sorry—” You reach up your hand towards and he swerves to take it in his own with a shake of his head, clasping his fingers gently around your shaking palms, careful not to irritate the angry red covering them.

“Don’t worry about me, are you okay? What happened?” His eyes roam anxiously over your frame, lingering specifically on the torn piece of fabric around your thigh that is slowly but surely turning from a charcoal grey to a dark maroon the longer you stand talking.

“I- He ran and- and I followed him and then I lost him and- I don’t- He doubled back on me and I didn’t-” Half of the words coming out of your mouth were almost completely incoherent, and he could see your pupils refusing to dilate even under the direct beam of one of the SUVs’ headlights.

“Okay okay, calm down, take a breath for a second,” Spencer gives your arms a small squeeze to cut off your attempt at an explanation, glancing over your shoulder where the team is still grouped together, with Morgan and Hotch on the phone — presumably for an ambulance and some backup respectively— and the others watching you cautiously, unsure whether they should join in on Spencer’s examination of your health.

“How did you hurt your leg?” You follow Spencer’s gaze downwards towards your thigh, and it’s like the second your eyes recognise what it is you completely loose control of all of your motor functions from waist down.

“Woah—” Spencer takes the sudden change in your weight distribution in his stride, or at least he tries to, shifting his arms underneath your armpits to stop you from hitting the ground underneath you and supporting your weight with his own as he stumbles a few steps backwards. “Guys—”

Emily is at your side immediately, alleviating some of your weight onto herself so the two of them can hold you upright.

“He had a weapon…” You wince under the searing pain in your leg, the adrenaline wearing off fast and hard now that your body knows it’s no longer in danger.

“What kind of weapon?” The concern seeps from Spencer’s voice to soak into your skin, leaving your heart to accelerate under the knowledge that you were injured bad.

“A uh… fork, like a gardening fork… He stabbed me with it…” Although more coherent now, your voice was slowly fading into small mutters and whispers, like the exhaustion in your body was catching up to your mind and making even your tongue too languished to move. “I’m really tired…”

“Hey no- not yet-” Emily shakes her head with a conviction. “There’s an ambulance on the way, you have to stay awake until then,”

“But…”

“Emily‘s right, stay awake you’ll be fine,” Spencer sounds like he’s more trying to convince himself than you as him and Emily support your weight back towards the cluster of SUVs, and the added weight of your head resting against his shoulder doesn’t help his anxiety whatsoever. “Hey, come on…”

He lifts his shoulder slightly to shift your head and you let out a soft noise of discontentment. “I’m awake I’m awake, just conserving my energy…”

“Just keep your eyes open okay?”

You give him a small hum as the two of them sit you down on the hood of one of the cars, and Emily leaves you in Spencer’s care to check with Morgan on the arrival of the ambulance.

“You know that you’re my best friend, right?” You turn your head a little further into Spencer’s shoulder as he becomes the sole pillar of your support, blinking slowly in an attempt to keep your eyes open.

“Don’t say that to me right now,” He shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, a dark line forming between his eyes as the skin pinches together in his worry.

“But you are though,”

“You can remind me of that after you’re in the hospital,”

“I hate hospitals,” You let out a small, fatigued huff, rolling your eyes at the prospect. “I’m gonna be in there for god knows how long and I just wanna find this guy before he hurts anyone else…”

“Well, he has hurt you, and that’s what’s important right now,” Spencer’s tone contradicts itself between concern and relief. You’re alive, but you’re not in good shape. “We need to make sure that you’re okay before anything else,”

And in an act of holy divination — or just coincidence if Spencer was concerned — right as he mentions making sure that you’re okay the blaring lights of the called ambulance come into view, joined by a shrill, sharp ring that seems to echo over the field.

You all but hobble over to it once it’s parked, successful only in the fact that Spencer is actually supporting more of your weight than you were.

At least he stays by your side the entire time.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mgg #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #climacteric 🪶

480 notes · View notes

peterthepark · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

tags: mmf threesome, oral sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, piv, anal, double penetration, dirty talk, dom!eddie, dom!steve, sub!reader, best friends with benefits, mentions of virginity, hair-pulling, breeding kink, throatfucking, squirting, praise and degradation, everyone is horny

summary: back home from school, you recount about your time away in college with steve and eddie, leading to a sexual proposition that you never would’ve expected.

notes: pure filth, forgive me if it is hard to visualize positions… threesomes are very messy and crazy to write! feedback and reblogs appreciated :)

There’s a veering shift in the way they look at you. Maybe it’s because you’ve been gone for so long, so out of the loop, nothing but a modulated grainy voice on the other end of a call line, or a lingering scent in the back of their closets — jasmine, soap, the smell of girl and all things sweet, a tang of Eddie’s favorite green bud.

You want to believe it’s because they’ve missed you, they always do, but it’s different.

The way they each hug you, toned arms locked tightly around your waist, dragging and dragging upwards until it’s slung over your shoulder possessively and Steve’s perfectly-curved nose is in the tangles of your hair.

Ours. Ours. Ours.

You may have been gone for almost a year, but you’re still their girl.

“Look at you, dressin’ all tough and shit now!” Eddie grins proudly, tugging the hem of your skull shirt towards him as he tenderly presses your head to his chest. You nearly stumble on your boots, nothing but a shy smile ghosting the curl of your upper lip as he runs his thumb along your brow bone and you inhale him in with fluttering lashes. “You copying me? Stealing my style, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. His gorgeous best friend. Wiser, older now, prettier — well, you’ve always been pretty, but now, you’ve really grown into your features.

A year, it’s only been a fucking year and yet you still look this good. Better. Knocking the wind out of him, just to breathe it back between his lips.

“You should be flattered,” You shake your head at him, clasping a hand over his shoulder as you gaze over at Steve with admirable regard. There’s emphasis on every word that falls from your taunting smirk as he steps up your front porch. “You should be flattered I chose your clothes over Harrington’s preppy mom-jeans and—“

Then you’re being crushed, wedged between two warm bodies and clashing scents of woodiness and lavender as Steve wraps himself around you.

“You’re talking mad shit about me now, Y/N? All this time, thought I was your favorite — hey, I know that face — I am certain I was your favorite. I was before this one,” He ruffles Eddie’s hair roughly, beaming at either of you. “Came along and practically hypnotized you with his — his rings and his music and his…”

“Shut up and just say you missed me already.” You pull Steve closer to you, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck as Eddie rests his chin on the top of your scalp. It’s a chorus of can’t believe you’re back, crazy you left us in the first place, you’re here, we’re gonna spend so much time together. You can only smile, feeling their love spill out of their respective cups and into yours as you pull them into the house. “Saps.”

Your childhood bedroom of pinks and blues and whites feels exceptionally, jarringly smaller.

Steve and Eddie take up so much space — long legs and big socked feet, sharp jaws and curious eyes as you sit out on the fluffy beige carpet, sifting through the contents of your suitcase as you tell them stories about wild parties, about classes, about your messy roommates and about professors who didn’t know how to teach.

‘Listen, I loved Chicago, but I’ll always love Hawkins.’

‘Hello? The only reason you like Hawkins is because of us.’

‘Still you and your ego, Harrington.’

You don’t tell them about the boys, about the crushes and what kind of antics you got up to in the absence of them. Of them, their protectiveness, their touch, gentle and fleeting and borderline blurring the lines of friendship.

There was an ache for Steve and Eddie — far from platonic, short of romantic, closer to a sexual awakening than anything. The nights where you called, feeling the baritone of their deep snappy voices over the phone as they fought over for a turn, that dreaded dial tone when the line had gone dead and you were left with an emptiness, a twisting heat in your stomach as you replayed their words over and over again before you slept: Miss you. Come home, pretty girl.

You can’t help but wonder what they got up to while you spent nights in the dorms tossing and turning to the thought of either of them. There’s only so many ways you can quietly lull yourself to a blissful sleep in a shared room.

“Mmm, what do we have here?” Eddie breaks up the childish bantering between you and Steve with a curious tone, waving a flimsy stack of polaroids between his forefinger and middle.

No. No. Absolutely not. Not fucking now.

“Okay, Eddie. Maybe not…” Your laugh is frantic and near-alarmed, hands already reaching out for him until he’s gently swatting you away. “… not that one. Hey, no.”

“Cold case, hard evidence of little Y/N’s college escapades?” He quirks a beady brow, tongue wiggling against his front teeth as he winks at Steve and rambles on in amusement. “Do you… do you hear that? Oh, oh! Eddie, pssst, pssst, Eddie… look at me!”

“Give it back, asswipe.”

“Is Y/N guilty or…” He cards through the pictures, lines dimpling around his pursed lips as a wicked grin starts to split his face in half. “Innocent?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Stupid. You should have taken this into account, boys and their lack of respect for privacy, your boys and their habit of sticking their noses where they aren’t fucking supposed to. Eddie and his big greedy mouth, yapping and yapping until he’s dragged good ol’ Steve into his influential mess — you’re trapped between the two brunettes, pleading to Ozzy that they save you from the embarrassment and just move on with their lives.

It’s the worst picture out of the stack. So much for “it’s all about preserving the memory, you know, you’re only young once.”

Memory or not, it was supposed to be for your eyes only.

Not Steve’s. Not Eddie’s.

They stare at a blurry photo of you, very topless and covered in bruising hickies, your smile split into a hearty laugh as a green lime dangles from between your teeth and Some Blond Guy licks up a trail of salt off of the horizon of your pretty tummy.

“Oh, my god.” Steve gapes. “Dude. Body shots?”

“Guys…”

“Don’t guys us, who is this rat-faced son of a bitch that’s practically making out with your stomach?” Eddie’s brows furrow, jealousy dripping from his tone. He’s trying to lead with the playful card, but it’s difficult — difficult when he’s looking at a picture of a guy (who looks like he’s fucking named Brad) basically violating you.

“He’s… a friend. Just a friend.”

Steves laughs unconvinced, “Ah, friend. Guys and girls… they can’t be friends.”

“You’re friends with Robin.” You frown.

“Robin’s gay, you idiot.” Eddie flicks the back of your head.

“Okay, right! Fine! She’s an exception, though.” You scoff. This conversation is unbelievable. “Well, us then? We’re friends.”

Friends. It’s a weird word. People say the l-bomb is horrible, but the f-bomb — friend, not fuck — is absolutely petrifying, numbing, fear-inducing.

It hangs heavily over your heads like something you’re not supposed to say, like forbidden fruit, Adam, Eve, and the serpent. Because the meaning of friends has always been a little strange for the three of you. What are friends?

What are we - what are we - what are we?

You are not friends, you are more, something unreachable, unconventional, something only you and they can understand, you are—

“Best friends.” Eddie corrects, glancing up at you. He pins you with his eyes, even as you suddenly avert your attention down to the pack of Marlboros in your lap like it could serve as a scapegoat, your fingers drumming anxiously against the weathered box. “You know what, I get it. I do. I really do, Y/N. A pretty girl — a woman, like you, has primal urges. And when you’re in college…”

“Eddie… I’m not thirteen.”

“Where sometimes mediocre, average fucking bozos like this Brad-looking fellow come along… bless his heart for even trying, by the way...”

You groan outwardly, fingers fumbling to pinch a cig between your quivering lips. Your voice comes out muffled, sharp and blunt like the end of a knife. “His name is Matt, okay?”

Steve winces, glancing over at Eddie who responds to with a shrug. “Okay, well, Matt is just as bad.”

“Can you guys, like, chill out? Your name is literally Steve.” You avoid their questioning glares, an orange shadow coating the lower half of your jaw. “I just got back and you’re already hounding me.”

A harsh sizzle cuts through the atmosphere as you raise your Bic lighter to your mouth.

You’re defensive. Sensitive.

They hate it. It’s not like you.

“So, what then?” Eddie continues, unable to drop the subject. He wants to pry. He needs to. It’s you. It’s you, so he has to know every detail, even if it leaves you fuming, nostrils flaring at his persistence. “Is he… the college boyfriend? College sweetheart? How about fratboy, porno fantasy? Hot TA that gives your exams a pass every time? You’ve always been ass at math, can’t even tell a full gram from half so I wouldn’t technically be surprised.”

God. Insufferable. But you still thrum under his stare, his pupils imbedding themselves into your skin as you suck your cheeks in and inhale.

Eddie wonders if you remember, if there’s some part of you that thinks back on your graduation night, the way he touched you in that diner, a hand spread over your thigh, your head on his shoulder as Steve rambled about how boring his version of graduation was.

Eddie wonders if you remember the way you inhaled him inside Steve’s garage, knees sinking into the shitty abandoned couch beside the washing machine as you eagerly sucked him off. You were on cloud nine, adrenaline coursing through your veins from the thought of college-college-college, but also when will you ever get to do this again? Do this with someone as perfect and rare as Eddie?

‘Do they have boys like you in college?’

You can still picture the glimmer of his smile. ‘God, I hope not. What a bad influence they would be.’

‘I think I turned out pretty okay so far.’

His rings stuck in your hair, his head thrown back against the furniture, your mouth and the lewd, filthy squelch of his cock burying itself in your throat while you waited for Steve to come back after he had forgotten his wallet at the diner.

‘This doesn’t change anything’, you had told him. ‘We’re always gonna be best friends.’

‘I know, sweetheart. Just needed something to take the edge off, didn’t you? Bet you’ve been working so hard on getting that scholarship, smart girl.’

He fingered you under the graduation gown afterwards.

“Y/N.”

Fuck. “I didn’t — it was nothing. He was nothing. Trust me. Just… I mean, a quick fuck, s’all, I didn’t even…” You chuckle nervously, girlish and unsure and very vulnerable. “… okay, he was fun, but like, I didn’t even cum so… so it doesn’t count. He doesn’t count.”

“You fucked Brad?”

“Matt.” You cringe.

Steve’s voice nearly booms. “You fucked Matt?”

“It’s college!” You cough out, choking on the contents of your cigarette. “People fuck other people all the time.”

“Weren’t you a virgin?”

You were a virgin. Technically. But you were also a virgin when Eddie spread you open on that couch, moaning as he told you how proud he was of you for working so hard.

You were also a virgin when Steve made out with you in the back of a movie theater, where he’d left a gnarly hickey on your left boob for everyone to see — including Eddie, who didn’t even bat an eyelash because he knew, he fucking knew that Steve boyishly wanted you in the same way he did the summer after you graduated, and he supposes that’s why there’s always been an unspoken understanding between the three of you.

‘If you make a sound, we’re gone. Kicked out. Won’t get to finish this awful movie,’ Steve said. ‘You want that?’

Breathless. Eager. Drowsily drunk on your affection.

His lips against your neck, your pulse point, a nibble to your jaw, a hungry tug on your earring. Fucking hell. How soft he was, how gentle, how he touched you with such a special regard and how some sick, jealous part of you thought — were you like this with Nancy? Was it ever like this was Nancy? Part of you wanted to moan. Croak out his name. Make a sound, any sound, so you could get kicked out and have him all to yourself.

You were a virgin when Eddie let you practice a handjob on him in the living room of his uncle’s trailer. You were a virgin when Steve ate you out in his car after finding out you were leaving for Chicago.

You were a virgin.

“I was, but I’m… do you even count that? He didn’t even… he could barely stick it in me at first, Steve, Eds.”

The air feels angry. Tense. It’s suffocating, how they share that look, how they casually train their gazes back on you like you’ve killed someone. “What was he like?”

“Come again?”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as Eddie steals the cig from your lips, taking a drag before he repeats himself — slower, syllables laced with a darker want.

“I said, what was he like? In bed? You said he could barely stick it in you, so I doubt he was any fucking good.”

“Did he kiss you?” Steve follows on, nodding at Eddie to pass him the Marlboro. It’s so fucking intimate. His lips on the patch where Eddie’s had been, to which, in turn, where yours was. There’s smoke everywhere, even as he speaks, it somehow hits you coldly right on the mouth. “Was he a good kisser?”

Only then do you realize how physically close you are to both of them. You’re stuck, sandwiched between their thighs, their knees knocking against yours as you try to compose yourself. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t awful but it wasn’t good, either. Too much tongue. Too much — not enough… not enough teeth, I guess. You know how I…”

Oh, they know, alright.

You don’t even flinch as Steve leans over and passes the cig back to Eddie. It’s a dance, a fucking taunt as you clench your jaw and curl into yourself under their presence. The longer-haired brunette tosses the dirty polaroid aside, speaking accusingly through a lazy drag.

“Thought you wanted to save it for someone special, sweetheart.”

“I did.”

“No judgement there. Lay it on us, what changed then?”

You shrug, blinking rapidly. “Just wanted to get it over with.” They don’t believe you. It’s clear as day on their faces, the crease between their eyes, the side-twitch of Eddie’s lips and Steve’s nerved running of hands through his hair. “If you wanna call bullshit…”

“Bullshit.” These fuckers. Steve eggs you further, “A real reason, come on, Y/N.”

“Look, you’re gonna make fun of me.”

“Which we always do. Just spill it.”

You can’t hide anything from them. Not them. Not Steve, who’s practically had his handsome face between your legs for hours and not Eddie who’s basically bent you over the hood of his van so he could spread you open with his fingers.

Not your best friends, who you’ve wanted in an insatiable way all your life, even when you had went away, it was always them — just the thought of them — that made you dizzy in all the right headspaces, the callousness of their fingers, their constant gonna-take-care-of-you aura and that implicit agreement between you and the two of them that I’m yours, m’your girl, always going to be.

“I just always thought I’d… lose it to one of you guys, and — I mean, you guys weren’t there and so I just figured I’d be more… fuck, I dunno, desirable? Yeah, just… desirable if I lost it before I came back since you already have so m-much, like, experience and...” You mumble rapidly, losing your tongue amongst your word-vomit of an explanation as you clamber onto your knees and try to stand up. Hot, embarrassed tears blur the cones of your vision. “It’s stupid, really! Like, it doesn’t even matter to me anymore because i-it was such a disappointing experience. Let’s just drop this, okay?”

This has to be a dream. A prank. A delusion. Maybe you’re still in Chicago, blacked-out after a party. Drank too much? Took the wrong weed? Shit, maybe Eddie is right — you don’t know half a gram from a full one.

And before you can shakily rise to two feet, your elbow is tugged back forcefully. Pain shoots up your arm, and you nearly yelp when your ass collides onto your springy twin mattress.

“Uh-uh, you are not getting yourself out of this so easily. If it was oh-so disappointing, tell us what he did wrong and we’ll… we’ll… we can be your fix-it. Think of us as a rebound for, like, the guy you totally should not have fucked. Again, no judgement. Just saying a girl like you should have high standards.”

You should not be turned on right now.

Eddie looks sincere and so pleadingly desperate for an answer that you feel the yearning in his stare. It’s graduation night all over again. The stir of your belly, the squeeze he gives your thigh as he sits beside you, your glance of disbelief at Steve and his return of that hooded-gaze that turns you completely boneless as he joins the two of you on the bed.

“And you meet that standard?” You scoff, a snort following.

His brows rise up his forehead. You’re testing him. “I can meet any standard, sweetheart.”

“And you swear you guys can do better than Matt?”

“You already know we can do better than Matt.” Steve laughs, almost as if you had just said something completely stupid.

Eddie’s fingers trail up your knee, a ghost of a touch. He’s barely even pressing into your skin, but you feel him — his warmth, just inches away, gliding over the little goosebumps on your body, caressing the shaky ball of your knee.

“You know, we talked ‘bout you. Had our own bonding moment, me and Harrington. Jus’ talked about how we’d take you out once you got back, treat you like a real princess after being so studious, talked about how… hm...” He chuckles, pausing to glance up at you while you lose yourself in his beady smile. This fucker. This absolute fucker. “Talked about how generous you are when it comes to friends. Thinkin’ we didn’t know you were practically playing pornstar with the both of us. Doin’ shit behind our backs like you’re a genius.”

Both of us.

Both. You want them both, and suddenly, you don’t feel bad for being unbelievably horny, a fucking mess.

“Listen…”

“Nu-uh. It was smart. You gotta make do with what you have. I’ll give you that.”

Steve whispers, thumbing at the corners of your lip. “Hey. No need to be embarrassed. S’alright that big brain of yours can’t think right now. You just wanna feel good. That whole thing with Matt must’ve been so disappointing.”

Eddie puts out his cigarette on the polaroid, smirking when he cups a large hand around your chin, thumb and pointer finger pressing into your hollow cheeks before he’s tenderly pulling your head to look at him.

There is too much heat. It’s stuffy, and warm, and you can’t really breathe. There’s grimy sweat in the crooks your elbows, the duvet is getting stuck to your skin and you can’t really sit still in the itchy fabric of your sweats because it’s fucking boiling. It’s boiling and you can’t think and you don’t know what the hell is happening, and you want air — not this swirling humidity that wafts under your knees, between your thighs…

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Yeah?” His hand dips down your jaw, fingers wrapping around the small girth of your throat. A gentle squeeze. Experimental. Your breath hitches, a stuttering exhale as he tries again, harder, then he’s withdrawing and soothing the roughened area. “Care to share with the class? Unless, it’s inappropriate… then, you might just wanna,” He chuckles, tilting your head back. “… whisper it.”

If this is a black-out, you hope you wake up with a gnarly hangover.

“If that offer still stands, if you guys wanna be my… my rebound or— or fix-it, or whatever the fuck...” This is messy. This is wrong. This is… this isn’t what friends do… but at this point, can you even call yourselves friends? “I’m down to do it.”

“You sure? I mean, you were just a virgin and…”

You snap. “Well, that never stopped either of you before, did it?”

He lunges at you.

Your mouth finds Eddie in the tangle of limbs and bodies. You run your fingers through his unruly hair, feeling yourself relax into the sudden notion as he tilts his chin to slot his lips over yours. It’s brazen, an open letter of lust from you to him saying I want this. I want you to kiss me back. I want this so bad, you don’t even know.

It’s a burning ember of feverish desire as he parts himself open and open, tongues slowly rolling against each other until a moan slips out of you. “You like this? Don’t think it’s weird or anything?”

“M’fine.”

“Tell me to stop — fuck — and I’ll stop.”

“No.”

You can feel Steve pressing against your back, the pads of his fingers digging themselves into your flesh, marking the spots where Eddie’s lips can’t reach as the metalhead dips into your collarbone and sucks. Hard. He leaves you purple and aching, your neck craned as the lighter-haired brunette dips your head back and gazes down at you.

“Christ, she likes that.”

You sigh in bliss, slowly unraveling at the seams.

And oh, your whole body fucking stutters when Eddie dips his hand between your legs, causing you to lurch for Steve’s mouth in order to stifle the whiny gasp of surprise knocked out of you. His palm envelops your jaw. He’s warm. Wet. Lids moony and lips silky with an indiscernible impatience you can’t recognize.

More. Give me more of you.

You jolt as Eddie’s hands carefully push the fabric of your shirt up, his nose nudging against the valley of your breasts before he’s cupping you in a lazy grasp. He mouths at your nipples and he savors it. He thanks you. He thanks you with a twist to one of the hardened buds, soothing the area with his tongue before his teeth climb up the front of your neck and he makes you whimper.

“Fuck, I love how whiny you get.” He hums. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you? S’just my favorite part about you, Y/N. I’m sure Harrington agrees, seeing as… I’m not the only guy you do this kind of shit with.”

A bite. A bruise. An apologetic kiss even though he’s far from sorry. He’s calling you a slut without even saying it.

And while Eddie traverses his way up to your mouth, Steve dips down to nurse a path all over your back. Your shirt gets lost along the carpet somewhere, your shoulders bare and waiting as he takes your flesh between smiling lips and leaves a glistening trail of wet, open-mouthed pecks on your flexing muscles.

Then Eddie… oh, Eddie, the dirty-minded fucker.

Eddie gives you another hungry kiss, only this time it’s like you haven’t kissed in years. He kisses you like he doesn’t already have you yearning and yearning for more. He bites your bottom lip, drawing a raspy gasp from the back of your throat. His nose smashes against your cheek as he moans into you, the taste of cigarettes lingering on your tongue.

“You’re so pretty. You’re so pretty, baby…” Steve ruts against your tailbone, collecting your hair into a careful fist and tugging until you’re pulled away from your deepening kiss. “You must’ve been so empty back there, aching. I can’t imagine how awful you must’ve felt, Y/N. Were any of those guys even any good to you?”

“No. Not even close — not like you.”

“Mm, shame.”

You don’t take your stare off of Steve at all, scared that if you looked away, scared that even one second would take this away from you. He kisses the sides of your socked feet, grazing his lips over your ankles and clothed calves until you shudder at the close proximity to your core.

Anticipation is coursing through your veins. Your chest is heaving, eyes wide like a baby owl. There’s an unmistakable throb that you recognize between your thighs. Burning you from the inside. Burning you at the stake. Burning you until you’re nothing but ash and a brandished vessel of blooming hickies.

Fucking fuck.

“You hear that? Harrington’s right, bet Matt didn’t even eat you out if he couldn’t even get his cock in.” Eddie grits out unfiltered while you part your legs for Steve, inviting him. You exhale sharply — nuzzling your face into the crook of the metalhead’s neck as he wraps you in his arms. He can feel the soft, warm puffs of breath against his jaw as Steve finally tugs your sweats down. “Your pussy’s tight, Y/N.” A kiss to your belly. A suckle to where your pelvis meets your hip. A brush of tongue against your clothed clit until you jolt upright. “But not that tight.”

You melt. You fucking burst. You don’t fucking know anymore, but either way, it’s a new area of bliss. Eddie can quite literally feel you go rigid in his grasp, sliding deeper and deeper against him until he has no choice but to tuck you under the nook of his elbow and hold you close.

You’re burning, hand clenching around Eddie’s bicep as Steve drags the squishy tip of his nose between your folds through the cotton fabric.

“Pretty cunts like yours deserve to be treasured.”

“Please, Steve…” His brown eyes flicker up to you attentively, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your mound as your hips impatiently stir against the bed. “Fuck — just… just take me right now. Please. Eddie, tell him, please.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Eddie purrs, palming at your tits teasingly. He blows cool air into your face, brushing away your bangs as his lips hug the shell of your ear. “Thought all your begging would be so much better given what Harrington’s told me. Unless he’s a liar? You wouldn’t call him a liar, would you? Beg Steve to give it to you. Beg him the way you would if it was me down there.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

They are filthy in the fucking head. They have already stripped you of your pride. You may as well just follow. You may as well turn yourself in, play along with them and this fantasy that may or may not be real. Oh, but it has to be real. It has to, when you can feel Steve’s fingers dip past the decorative bow of your panties, shimmying and shimmying until you’re bare and open for him.

You squeeze around nothingness.

“You wanna stop?” Steve runs his palm up your stomach, fingers splayed so unbelievably wide and long across your skin. It makes you lightheaded, a fixation on his smooth digits and reddened knuckles in contrast to his rose-pink complexion. “We can stop right here, whatever you want, whatever feels comfortable, baby.”

He’s being nice. It should make you feel warm inside, giddy even, that given the circumstances, he still regards you in a way that makes you feel nothing short of safe. Comfortable. But that sick, wronged part of you — the side you happen to share with your two best friends — wants him to drop the gentleman act.

Take me, take me like you have all those times before.

Why hold back now?

“I don’t wanna stop.”

Eddie leans over and nips at the tip of your ear. His deep whisper leaves you tingling, almost trembling at how bad you need them in you, on you, just here. “Then beg.”

“I…” You whimper, cheeks growing hot as you feel their eyes study you. “Steve, I just… please? Please, I don’t…”

“You know what? Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“No! No, please fucking touch me.” You gasp shakily, biting your pride back and digging your nails into your calves before you’re spreading your legs farther to satisfy him, entice him. “Please touch me. I need it, need you s-so bad. Steve, please?”

He hums. You aren’t sure if it’s a sound of approval or one of uncertainty, but either way, your pathetic manner of begging does the trick. For now.

And you’re thankful that you’re home alone because the moan that’s ripped right out of your throat is almost animalistic, maybe even concerning, when Steve dips his face between your thighs and finally puts his mouth on your throbbing sex. Your head lolls back into Eddie’s neck, his fingers coming to stroke the strained vein in the column throat as you arch against him and rut against an unmistakable, very-acute pressure on your tailbone.

He’s hard.

Meanwhile, Steve is gently swiping his tongue over your folds, suckling at your clit before he’s dipping the muscle in and out of your fluttering hole.

“That’s it, Harrington.” A deep chuckle erupts from Eddie, his breaths growing deeper with each moan that leaves his companion. “Go to town on her.”

You’re basically panting for air, pulled under as Steve drags a heavy palm down your outer thigh, slapping where it rounds into the shape of your ass. It stings harshly, a burning bloom of irritation before he does it again and it stings even more.

But, fuck, does it feel good.

Steve’s nose presses against your bundle of nerves as he stretches his tongue into you. His expression is pulled into a concentrated scowl, knitted brows and muffled moans while he decides to stroke the pad of his finger against your entrance and gapes at what he discovers.

“You’re so fucking wet right now… Christ.” Agonizingly slow, Steve pushes a digit inside your cunt, curling it so that it hits that spongy desperate part of you that makes you croon and twitch in Eddie’s arms. You nearly gush at the sensation.

“There we go, princess. Mmm, fuck, you take good care of my girl, don’t you, Harrington?”

Eddie is exceptionally fucked and twisted in the head. You think it’s a power play, him enjoying his one-up, best foot forward against Steve because he had you first. My girl. My girl. It’s warranted, valid — wrong in all the right ways — but he’s not lying, because Eddie took the initial bullet that was his desire for you.

“Play nice, Munson. Sharing is caring.”

“Then stop messin’ with her like she’s a plate of mush.”

Quite frankly, you feel like a plate of mush.

It stirs him, competitively pushes the brunette to go harder and before you know it, his fingers are squelching down there. It’s wet, erotically messy, probably would’ve been gross to any other guy but it’s Steve and Eddie, your best friends who happened to be fucking perverts with a soft spot for you, so who cares?

Eddie does not mean to claim you. Especially claiming ownership over someone who, obviously, isn’t his if there’s easily another man inside you. But Eddie knows your body, he knows no other body like yours because it didn’t just stop at graduation night.

Maybe Harrington hasn’t caught on, but you’ve always been Eddie’s first love in all the ways that count. It’s truly unfair.

It’s even more unfair knowing that you’ll always favor Steve over him.

But it’s okay. The bed’s big enough for three.

Your hand grips Steve roughly by the wrist, forcing his hand down the drenched seam of your cunt even more.

“T-there… right there, just… want it hard, and — and fast… don’t need you to be gentle.”

“She’s blushing, Eddie.”

You blubber, eyebrows creasing with confusion as your voice gets caught in your throat and you rasp brokenly in immediate defense, “I don’t blush.”

Steve laughs. Loud. Shocked. Eyes-wide and mocking as he repeats your words under his breath and smirks up at Eddie. I don’t blush.

At this point, you’re just annoyed. “Oh, well, not you, honey.” You yelp in surprise as Steve scissors his thick fingers knuckle-deep, coating his skin in creamy arousal. “I was talking about your pussy.”

Instinctively, your smaller hand darts out to grab Eddie’s thigh, but instead, you’re met with something very hard, very much not his knee nor his leg — but his cock. The silky feeling of it in your hand turns you flustered. His red, heavy balls spill out from the waistband of his haphazardly-tugged boxers pooling below his taut hips.

The barbed-wire tattoo that wraps across his thigh taunts you, the faded bat wings on his abdomen just waiting to be tasted. You salivate at the thought of… fuck, nevermind. You can’t even think straight.

It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but in the context of all this, it’s a sight that unhinges your jaw and causes you to try to squeeze your legs together — Steve feels the change in pressure around his head, how your thighs press harder against either ear, clenching and clenching till he has no choice but to lap at your cunt till you let go.

“F-Fuck, Steve… I’m… fuck, your mouth, it’s…”

A shared moan from Eddie and yourself cuts your blubbering short as you give his long shaft an experimental tug, running your thumb over his shiny slit till he’s hissing at you.

“Jus’ like that, Y/N.” Eddie groans, a hand coming to stroke the back of your head till he’s grasping the nape of your neck and making you watch yourself stroke his cock. “Shit, sweetheart… see what you — you do to me? God, fuckin’… you fucking slut. Christ… fuck, your hand just feels so… oh, baby.”

His chin tilts back, eyes rolling into his skull as you crudely lick the palm of your hand and reach for his balls, coating him in a glistening film that has you drooling beneath the surface. “Let me make you feel good, please?”

“Yeah? That what you want?” He grits out, sighing as you drag your tongue along the ink on his pelvis.

“Please?”

“Since you begged so nicely,” Eddie hums, leaning back on his elbows as your tiny fist instantly reaches for his heavy cock. He nods at it, dropping his look from your clouded eyes to where his cock rests against his lower stomach. “It’s all yours. Go crazy. You know how I fucking like it.”

Messy. Loud. Disgusting.

Fingers covered in saliva as you pump him in your grasp, massaging the sensitive ridge under his tip with each upward stroke. A squeeze to his shaft everytime Steve pumps his fingers out of you and rubs your clit just the way you need him to. Eddie’s hands wander over your hips, gripping you flush against him until you’re leaning over to take his cock into your mouth.

Stuffed full of Steve’s fingers and stuffed full of Eddie’s dick. What a predicament.

“Shittt…” Eddie hisses as you take him, lips suctioning around the aching head of his dick before you’re dragging your tongue down the velvety, wet base of him. He shudders visibly once again. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re g-goddamn divine.”

You try to suck him in deeper when Steve adds another finger, his tongue lapping at your needy clit as Eddie instinctively pushes on the back of your head and shoves you further down his cock. He holds you there, mewling at the way saliva and cum dribble down his ruddy shaft, pooling around his balls.

You gag disgustingly loud, retaliating with a heavy swat to his arm before you realize your own orgasm is approaching hard and fast once he finally lets off and gives you air.

“Fuck. Fuck. Steve, b-babe… I’m — oh, shit… m’gonna cum if you keep…”

“If I keep doing this?”

You sob into Eddie’s neck as Steve scissors his fingers in and out of you, the naughty squelch of your cunt overpowering the white noise of your childhood bedroom. It’s lewd, how your knuckles glisten with Eddie’s thick pre-cum, Steve’s fingers serving as a direct mirror to that when you find release and gush around him.

“Fuck, Y/N! That’s hot. That’s really fucking hot. Shit, I just made you squirt.” He exhales shakily, a shy laugh falling at the end of his ramblings. “Always wanted to do that. S’just so sexy when you do it — fuck — I wanna watch you do it again.”

Steve’s cock throbs intensely beneath you as you christen his mouth with your arousal, his jaw wet and chin shiny as he languidly moves his mouth side to side against your clit.

“O-Oh, god… s’too… m’too sensitive, I… Steve…”

Like a starving man, his strong hands keep you pinned down when he wraps them around your hips, feeling for your ass and spreading you wide while you soak his face.

“Whose cock do you want inside you first, sweetheart?” Eddie rasps, his free hand resting over yours as he drags it up your ribs, the swell of your breasts, brushing over your hardened nipples before he brings it back down to your stomach. Stroking and stroking, teasing you as your other best friend peppers the insides of your thighs with gentle kisses. “Thinking about how tight you probably are right now, even if Steve fucked you open with his fingers, I bet that little cunt of yours is still just as tight as that night in the garage, yeah? Yeah, it is.” He chuckles, drawing hearts on your hip bone. “Are you gonna let me fuck it? In front of Harrington? Let him watch me stick my cock inside it for the first time? Let him watch the way your eyes just… droop all sleepy and fucked-out when I cum in you?”

Steve laughs, smiling to himself as he wipes the slick from his mouth, collecting it with the pad of his fingers before he’s wiggling the digits in front of Eddie’s mouth.

“Taste her,” He says without shame, eyes moony and half-lidded as Eddie slowly wraps his lips around them. Eyes locked on Steve’s, he fucking moans at the flavor of you. “Sweet, isn’t she?”

He releases him with a pop, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Oh, she’s the sweetest.” He drawls, tongue darting out to lick the space between Steve’s fingers. “You wanna watch me fuck her now, Harrington? Promise you can stick it in her pussy later.” Eddie’s hand cups your jaw, lolling your head back against his shoulder so he can smirk down at you. His doe-eyes swirl with some sick form of tenderness, and the crude denotation of his next words almost fly right over your head when his gaze flickers back up to Steve. “As long as I get her ass.”

A gasp rips out of you when Eddie pulls you up by your underarms, your tender cheek falling against the mattress while Steve lingers at the foot of the bed, arm propped up against the post — where he stands now fully nude.

Your eyes shamelessly rake over his length, admiring the groomed bush of hair around his base, his athletic frame, the girth of his arms. He pumps his cock in front of you, your attention fully directed to him as Eddie undresses himself behind you.

“Staring is rude, y’know.” Steve quips, breathless as he runs his thumb over his meaty tip with a cocky grin. He nods down at his prick, the shaft darker than the rest of him. “You think you can take it, babe?”

“I… I think so. It’s — you’re just so…”

“Big?”

“Perfect.” You gulp out, palm coming up from the mattress to reach for him. “You’re just perfect, Stevie.”

And you swear that Steve blushes. His cheeks tinge pink, freckles prominent on the bridge of his nose as a faint smile lingers across his pillowy lips. But before you can even let your nails excitedly skim across his abdomen, Eddie yanks you back by your hips, ass arched up into the air as he pries your legs apart with his knee.

The action takes you by surprise, your neck twisting to look helplessly over your shoulder up at Eddie. “What are you—“

He leans over you, caging your body with his. You gag when he shoves his fingers past your lips, clutching at his wrist while Steve’s darkened eyes meet his. “Spit.”

Fuck. Okay.

Maybe you really should’ve been patient and lost your virginity to one of them when you got back.

Eddie pulls away; strings of saliva connect to his palm, to which he uses as makeshift lube for his ruddy cock. You study the way he languidly spreads the thick glob up and down his dick, the filthy wet squelch of it causing heat to pool into your belly.

You jolt when you feel his fingers skim over your entrance. “E-Eds…”

The aftershocks of your previous orgasm still linger, evident due to the tremble of your thighs and the deep furrow in your brow as you take a moment to brace yourself.

“Sensitive, sweetheart?” Eddie’s curious voice crackles, the tip of his finger dragging along the backsides of your thighs, tracing the curve of your ass. “S’okay, Y/N. I’ll go slow. At first.” He quips, sincerity and amusement dripping from his tone all at once. His mouth dips down, kissing the planes of your shoulders, your spine, the dip of your tailbone. “Don’t get in your head about it. I’m gonna take care of you.” Eddie whispers, taking his cock into his fist and running the tip along your cunt. You choke on a moan, feeling him slowly split you open. “I a-always take care of you, don’t I? Fuck. Fuck. Shit, you’re — Y/N, baby, you’re already… already squeezin’ me, fuck. S’okay. Fuck. It’s okay. K-Keep clenching my dick like that and this’ll be over so… fast.”

“Eddie!”

You make a move to look at him, but Steve’s hand finds your jaw, pulling your gaze back. “Eyes on me. Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s…” You clutch at the sheets, syllables lost on your tongue as you mewl scandalously. “I can feel his cock s-stretching me out. M’just… just so wet for him.” You sob as Eddie bottoms out, his balls grazing against your clit. His lips meet the crook of your shoulder as he stills inside you. “So wet for it. Please. Please. Fuck, I need… need more. Need, oh, to m-move.” The sheets wrinkle beneath you as Eddie’s hips roll back, his cock slamming into you in deep, agonizing thrusts. “Oh, yes… yes, just like that…”

“Christ, Harrington.” Eddie lets out a grunt, thrusting in and out of you. He watches the way your folds grip around him, asshole puckering as he thumbs at it. “She’s… Jesus Christ, she feels amazing. You hear that? Shit, that’s just her pussy. Makin’ all those wet sounds like a goddamn – fuck – like she’s a little cocksleeve. Fuck yes, but you’re the real thing, a-aren’t you, sweetheart? God, I could jus’ live in your pretty cunt.” He rambles, a harsh spank landing on either of your ass cheeks.

“Fuck, Eddie!”

“I love this pretty pussy. Fuck. I fucking love it — so good. M-Mindblowingly good. Jus’ got me m-melting inside you. Fuck, Y/N. How am I ever supposed to go without this cunt? S’fucking dream, that’s it. You’re a fucking dream.”

Steve’s head falls against the intricate bedpost, face scrunched up into pleasure and agony just watching Eddie spear his cock into you. You fall further into the mattress, sweat beading off of your brow as you take in the sight of Steve’s cock dripping with pre-cum. His balls hang heavily between his thick thighs, his abs rippling under the orange glow of your lampshade.

Each stroke leaves Eddie’s creamy shaft glistening and wet, your arousal sticking to his skin and the bush of hair at the base of him as he fucks you deeply. A fist tangled in your hair, the other glued to your shoulder, his mouth pulled into a lewd ‘O’ that mirrors Steve’s handsome expression of bliss.

You whimper, eyes welling up with tears, “I’m gonna… oh, fuck, baby… m’gonna c-cum.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on this cock?” Eddie snarls, hips quickly snapping into you. “Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, I can feel you tensing up for me. Yes, cum on it, sweetheart. S’okay, you can cum for us. Do it, Y/N.”

“So good. So — I’m cumming!”

Your whole body goes boneless against the longer-haired brunette, his arm generously scooping you up from under so that he can pull you flush against his chest. Your tits heave with every tremble of your thighs. Your cunt convulses around Eddie’s shaft, milking him as he keeps your hips firmly planted in place against his skin.

“Oh, honey. Yeah, that’s it.” Steve coos with a sweet chuckle, reaching over to cradle your face in his hands. “Came a little hard, huh? You did so well. Look at you, still so fucking hot.” He chuckles, brushing the hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. “Atta girl. Cumming on her best friend’s cock.” His thumbs prod at your bottom lip. “Who woulda thought?”

“Christ, Steve. She’s even — even tighter.”

“Yeah? Think it’ll fit?” Steve pouts, pumping himself as Eddie pulls out of you.

“Mmm, maybe. Maybe not. Can always butter you up some more, Y/N. Make sure there’s enough room for Harrington.” He snickers, “I call him big boy for a reason.”

You can only whine, too fucked-out from your orgasm to even properly respond.

Fuck. Really, that’s the only word on your mind right now.

“Hey, you with us?”

“Just…” You laugh, cut off by your own wince. “Fucking hell, just gimme a sec.”

Steve raises a brow at his friend, studying the way you roll back onto the bed, back arched against the sheets as you stretch your arms over your head and look dreamily up at him. “That good, huh?” You nod, biting your lip as he crawls onto the bed, “You think I can do better?”

A boost of confidence surges through you, the words leaving your lips airily and teasingly.

“Dunno. How about you show me, King Steve?”

“You’re gonna absolutely kill me, you know that?” The freckled brunette whispers, mouthing up your thighs before he’s rolling you on top of him, tucking your hair behind your ears as Eddie comes to kneel behind you, kissing the nape of your neck. “Calling me King Steve like it doesn’t turn you on when you say it,” He chuckles, rubbing up your thighs. “You rode Brad’s cock?”

“No. And his name… is Matt,” You grin, splaying your palms over his chest. “Play nice, tiger.”

“This is nice.” You guide him into your entrance, moaning as you sink down past his tip, the head of him catching on the swell of your clit. Steve’s head falls back against the bed, plump lips parting with a sigh as you take him to the hilt. “God, but this cunt is even nicer — shit, Munson, you weren’t lying.”

“Fuck, Steve. It’s… fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, my god.” His thick cock spreads your folds open, the pink tint of his cock turning slick with your cum as you shakily pull yourself up and down his length. “Feels so good. Oh, your — please…”

Eddie’s arm wraps around your hips, his finger coming to circle your clit while his free hand spreads your ass apart, his dick nudging against your tight hole. “Do you trust me?”

Your jaw lolls back against Eddie’s shoulder, eyes fluttering in pleasure as Steve meets your thrusts. “Y-Yes, please. Just — fuck, need both of you. Need it inside m-me. Put it in, Eds. Please, put it in.” You beg tearily, resting your hand against his taut stomach.

“I’ll go slow.” He whispers, kissing your cheek before taking a hold of your neck. “So slow, you won’t even know I’m here. Jus’ focus on the way Harrington breeds that cunt, yeah? Guy fucking loves that shit. You tell me to stop — you tell either of us to stop and we will, understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good girl. You have lube for me?”

Your jaw falls open as Eddie slips a finger into your ass, the ring of muscle sucking the digit deeper and deeper inside as you fuck yourself on Steve.

“In my — my luggage.”

“Tsk tsk, naughty.”

You lose yourself in the tangle of limbs and shifting of blankets, your knees knocking against the mattress as Eddie finds his way back to the pair of you.

“Can’t believe you — you’re riding me right now. Holy shit, you look so… so beautiful.” Steve gasps out between wet strokes, worshipping your body with an open mouth, “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting this? Wanting to be inside you? Oh, and I get this pussy all to myself?

“I’ve always — fuck — always wanted to know how big you are. How it feels to be… to be filled up with my two favorite people in the world — oh, harder.” You growl, feeling a cool liquid squirt down your skin. The lube is warm, slippery as Eddie drenches everything in it, the sloppy squelch of his fingers working into your ass are enough to make your face heat up and hide in Steve’s shoulder. “Harder.”

“You really want this?” Eddie rasps, scissoring them in and out. “You think your virgin ass can take me? I think you need more time, baby. Gotta ease you into it.”

You reach around you to grasp his cock in your hand, panting against him while Steve continues to fuck the slick channel of your cunt. It’s devastating, how he hits every part of you, the crude squelch of it all, how Eddie grips and grips at your ass till you’re basically laying over Steve’s chest.

“I want it.”

“Breathe, then.”

It feels like hours before Eddie really does anything, just the cruel fingering of your ass accompanied by the pounding of Steve’s cock into you. Then eventually, there’s the sliminess of the lube, the glistening of two well-endowed ruddy cocks, happy trails and velvet skin slowly being swallowed by your cunt and ass.

The first few moments of Eddie’s tantalizing press of his cock against your puckering hole is enough to have you jolting forward in Steve’s arms, a comforting shush lulling you to a calm as the boys kiss down your body — worshipping you, soothing you, enticing you.

“Oh, my god!”

It’s… it’s too fucking much. The titillating burn of it. The building pressure. You feel like you’re being pulled under and under, endlessly being filled up by him until he’s drawing his hips back and pushing into you all over again.

“Relax, Y/N. You gotta relax, or I can’t — fuck, I won’t be able to take care of you.” Eddie kisses along the slope of your shoulder, his inked thighs entangling with Steve’s bare ones as he leans over your backside. “Okay?”

You nod and exhale sharply, letting yourself become mush between Steve and Eddie’s bodies as he drives into you from behind, using your ass the same way he had used your sopping cunt. Their cocks drive into you, bone mashing against bone, skin slapping against skin, warmth oozing out of you until you feel like you’re on fire.

“Does it feel good, honey?” Steve grunts from beneath you. The look on his face nearly makes you cum — hair tousled, eyes half shut as he groans deeply. His aching arms ripple, holding you against his chest as Eddie sloppily ruts into you from behind. “You want us to go faster? Make you squirt over both of our cocks? Fuck, taking it in the ass makes you so tight.”

You lose yourself in Eddie’s kisses, the way he drags his lips across your jaw and down your bruised neck, the way Steve sits up to toy with the peak of your breasts, his tongue swiping over the sensitive nubs.

Numb. Boneless. You can’t think.

“Think she’s gonna cum, Harrington. Just look at her.”

Steve cooes, flicking his finger over your swollen clit.

“You gonna cum, princess?” You gasp loudly as Eddie draws his hand across your ass, spanking you brutally until your face is buried in Steve’s collarbones. “Fuck, Eddie’s right… this cunt is — fuck — such a dream. Shit, you’re close. Think I’m gonna cum, t-too. M’gonna fill y-you up, Y/N. Fuck...”

“Yeah? Gonna breed my pussy?”

“Oh, that nasty mouth.”

“I want you to cum inside, Steve.”

“Fuck!” His warm seed fills you up quickly, shooting right against your walls as his hips snap into you over and over again. Relentless. Unforgiving. Your cunt fluttering and leaking with his own spill as Steve just fucking stares and watches you become one with him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, princess. It’s — oh, you’re… m-milking me. Oh, shit. Shit!”

They’re both balls deep inside you and yet all you can think about is how you’re one-hundred percent never walking again after all of this is over.

Your own brain melts before you can even get a word out, turning you into a broken record of strangled moans and incoherent begging.

Princess, you like it when Eddie fucks your ass, don’t you?

Just wait till you give Harrington a turn.

You’re gorgeous like this, letting us stretch your little holes out just ‘cause we’re best friends — god — you dirty, wet girl. I’m never getting enough.

So pretty. So fucking p-pretty.

You cum instantly, your orgasm sneaking up on you from behind and swallowing you whole. Your release has you convulsing shamelessly in the boys’ arms, your mouth claimed by each of theirs as you switch between Steve and Eddie, then Steve again, and Eddie once more until your body refuses to recognize whose skin is whose and who tastes like what.

“Christ,” Eddie grits out. “Christ, your cunt is — you’re strangling my cock, baby. Baby. Oh, fuck, baby.”

Everything comes in a rush. Words lose their meaning, their formation and elegance (if you could even call dirty talk elegant) as Eddie’s ramblings get strung together and Steve’s hands roughly find solace on your thighs. The warm bloom in your ass almost makes you cum again, and you moan wantonly as Eddie jerks and vibrates against you.

You wince when they pull out at nearly the same time — almost as if they had coordinated it — and you wince when you feel their spend trickle down your thighs.

Your cunt clenches around nothingness as you sputter with their cum, your asshole puckering against Eddie’s face while he watches you gape between his hands. You whine when his finger prods at you, a hiss leaving your lips when he eats the cum from both of your holes.

Then, he slurps. Loud.

Definitely going to hell.

“Fuck.” You let out a breathy chuckle, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes to stop seeing the fucking stars that keep pulsing in your vision.

Unable to support yourself, you lazily collapse between the lanky bodies of Steve and Eddie, long limbs tangling with yours.

Steve kisses your temple, nuzzling his face under your chin. “Better than Brad?”

Silly boy.

You laugh again, harder this time, almost forgetting how sore your lower muscles are when Steve presses the curve of your nose against your neck and Eddie casually slings an arm over your stomach like he hadn’t just fucked your ass. “Better than Brad.”

“Thought his name was Matt.” Eddie huffs, tracing the blossoming hickey on your hip.

You glance at either of them, bringing your hands up to stroke their flushed cheeks before you’re giving them a gentle peck on the buttons of their noses. “I could give less of a fuck about Matt.”

“Good.”

“Can we please go get dinner now? You know, to celebrate my return and everything.”

Steve and Eddie collectively groan, burying themselves closer against you with sleepy eyes and sweaty skin.

“Just a little longer.”

“Eddie…”

“Meh.”

“Steve…”

“Nope.”

Theirs. Theirs. Theirs.

And it’s then — between your best friends’ naked and warm bodies, freckled skin and D&D-themed tattoos, soft long hair and thick romantic curls, moles and scars, the sun on your left and the moon on your right, the lingering kiss to your shoulder and the swirling fingers on your thigh — that you realize that maybe, they missed you more than you missed them.

And that maybe, you’re okay with this strange, insatiable dynamic of friendship. If you can even call it that.

After all, what are best friends for?

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steddie x reader #steddie x you #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

10K notes · View notes

andvys · 2 months

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact. mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited feelings, sexual tension, reader teasing Steve sexually, not giving away anything else

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: After you and Steve cross a line, you are the one to take things to a whole new level — driving Steve insane with your never ending teasing.

Word count: 7.4k+

Author’s note: I know you keep yelling at me but anyways -- shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, especially the uh last part hehe.

Also, @prettyboyeddiemunson talked about a little crossover thing, and I love her girl in gods & monsters so she's making a little appearance here for Eddie hehe, all credits go to my bestie of course, the character belongs to her! If you haven't read the story yet, go check it out, it's one of my faves!

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Staring up at the ceiling, Steve sinks deeper into his pillows, finding more comfort in his bed than usual, he takes a deep breath as he runs his hand over his face. He should feel content, knowing that he’s got the day off but instead he feels tense and frustrated in a way he had never felt before.

His mind could be anywhere right now, he could think about the new tapes he stacked up at work last night, he could think about the show he watched before he went to bed, he could think about the mixtape Eddie had made for him, he could think about the girl that so obviously tried to flirt with him at work the other day, his mind could take him to any place, his imagination could be limitless but no, his mind is somewhere it shouldn’t be, his mind is with you.

Nothing he does, nothing he tries to think about can drag his thoughts away from you. You occupy every space of his mind, reminding him of how much control you had taken over him ever since you both crossed a line that changed things between you both.

Steve may have been the one who started it at all, but you are the one who took the game to a whole new level.

The little accident in his kitchen that happened weeks ago, was only the start of it all.

Steve wasn’t exactly subtle when he kept checking you out before the fiasco with the broken lever, and he wasn’t subtle with his touches either. He was treading on thin ice, he knew that, he knew that his slight teasing could have easily backfired if you reacted differently but it didn’t, and your reactions were everything that he was hoping for. You grew flustered, you started blushing, you stuttered and you looked at him the way he was hoping you would.

But, what he didn’t expect was for you to tease him back, especially in a way that had him blushing, stuttering, and staring at you in shock.

You were so innocent and shy at first, doing everything as subtly as possible. It started with gentle touches on his arm or his hand, soft whispers during dinner whenever he sat beside you, or long eye contact. Then, you realized just how much power you had over him and things quickly developed into something more, something so much deeper.

Your teasing was no longer innocent and your shyness seemed to have slipped away more and more, little by little.

The look in your eyes was no longer a shy one whenever you looked at each other. There was a fire behind your eyes that he had never seen before. The smirk that tugged at your lips wasn’t the same one you usually looked at him with, it was different, mischievous, and very suggestive – a little too suggestive for someone like you because if someone else had looked at him the way you do, he’d think that they’re flirting but you don’t do that and certainly not with him.

The only explanation for your behavior is that you are teasing him, playing with him just the way he did with you but not because you want him. He started something that night when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement. It was harmless at first, his teasing was light and playful, he loved to see those sweet reactions of yours but Steve didn’t know that it was a dangerous game that he had started, he didn’t know that he’d be playing with fire the moment he’d touch you.

Because you are far from harmless, and your teasing is not light and playful in the slightest. If it was, he wouldn’t be feeling like this right now; frustrated, agitated and filled with pent up emotions that he can’t even make out in his own head.

He closes his eyes again as a groan falls from his lips, he shakes his head at himself, cursing inwardly for thinking about no one other than you.

Has it always been that way?

Have you always been on his mind?

Or is it something new?

An unspoken deal was made between the both of you when you two started this. There are no rules, just a winner and a loser – whoever breaks first loses and so far, it seems like Steve won’t even get close to winning, even though he was the one to start it all so confidently.

You clearly have taken over, because the moment you looked at him with innocent big eyes and a pout on your lips while pressing your chest against his arm when you tried to squeeze past him, your boobs nearly spilling over your cute little top, your voice sounding raspy from all the weed you had smoked that night, he was done for.

It wasn’t the first time that a girl had done something like this to him, plenty of girls have given him those innocent eyes, have pressed their boobs against him, in much less clothing… but something about you drives him especially crazy. Maybe it’s the fact that you both hate or dislike each other or maybe it’s the fact that he is just extremely frustrated – sexually frustrated. Maybe that is the only reason why you get to him in that way… why he feels the want to continue this little game or why he feels the intense need to fuck you and get you out of his mind, once and for all.

Another groan falls from his lips when he remembers that Robin bailed on him after she called him in the middle of the night, telling him that she wouldn’t make it to lunch today, meaning that it will be just Eddie, you and him.

A part of him even looks forward to seeing you, the other part doesn’t because he already knows how he will feel afterwards, while you will probably go home feeling satisfied after teasing the hell out of him.

Every time before you leave, you look at him as though you had done nothing wrong, which sometimes leads him to believe that you’re not even aware of all the teasing you torture him with and that he was the only one playing this game, all this time.

Steve drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower so the water can heat up while he brushes his teeth. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, rolling his eyes at the mess on his head, he brings his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it.

As he thinks about what to wear, he gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about you, wondering what you will wear. Are you going to wear a dress? Another short skirt to drive him crazy with?

He rolls his eyes, cursing inwardly at himself for thinking about you again.

He needs to get this out of his system.

He needs to get you out of his system.

And there is only one way to do it and he knows it, but he’s not even sure where your feelings stand, if you’d be down for what he’s longing for or if you’d laugh in his face if he even tried to suggest something like it. – Your reaction would probably be the latter, and just the thought of it is enough to bring the grumpiness out in him.

He begrudgingly starts getting ready, all while his mind keeps him occupied with thoughts about you.

He doesn’t know what caused all of this, he doesn’t know how it happened, how his mind is incapable of thinking about anything or anyone but you these days.

He feels as though he had been cursed. You are haunting him, in his mind and even in his dreams, and seeing you all the time doesn't help at all… and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way because this little thing between you both makes him feel a thrill that has been missing in his life.

By the time Steve pulls up into the parking lot at the diner, you and Eddie are already there.

You’re sitting on the hood of his car, hands folded in your lap, sunglasses low on your nose, a smile on your lips as you’re nodding along to whatever Eddie is telling you. You look good… too good for just a simple breakfast at the diner.

He parks the car and after a few deep breaths, he pulls out the keys and gets out, trying not to stare at you as he walks towards the two of you.

“Hey guys.”

Eddie turns around, a mocking smile on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, “took you long enough, big boy.”

Steve chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he eyes you from the side, “yeah uh, I missed my alarm this morning and Robin woke me up in the middle of the night to bail on us, took me a while to fall back asleep after that.”

You groan at his words, sliding off the car, you smooth down your jean shorts and push your sunglasses up into your hair, “so she keeps ditching us.”

“She’s in love, Sweetheart,” Eddie winks at you, wiggling his brows, “she’s got better things to do.”

You roll your eyes at his words and look over Eddie’s shoulder, meeting his eyes for the first time today. You lick your lips as your eyes move down up and down his body.

“Hey, Lego head.”

Lego head. The silly nickname doesn’t quite suit the look in your eyes.

“Blondie,” he nods.

Eddie chuckles, playing with the keys in his hand as he nudges his head into the direction of the diner, “let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving, Eddie,” you snort as you are the first to start walking.

“Yeah man, you’re always eating and you’re still starving,” Steve chuckles, walking beside Eddie, “you’re like a raccoon or something.”

You look over your shoulder, a smile on your lips, “oh he’s definitely a little raccoon.”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise, he looks between you both, “did you just… agree on something?”

You scoff at his words, turning back around without another word while Steve looks down, shaking his head. The weight of Eddie’s arm around his shoulder makes him look back up, though not at you, but at Eddie, whose eyes are filled with amusement.

“You’re not trying to steal my girl are you?”

Steve doesn’t know what is about the words ‘my girl’ but he feels himself clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. By the tone in Eddie’s voice, he should know that he is only teasing, but apparently his mind isn’t able to comprehend that right now.

He feels a fire in his chest that he can’t even explain, one that only grows even more intense a few moments later, when a guy who was just leaving the diner, steps aside for you after opening the door.

Steve can’t see your face or the looks you are giving to the man who is staring you up and down with nothing but hunger in his eyes, but by the way you walk past him without even turning your head or looking back, he knows that you’re giving him nothing. And yet, it doesn’t stop his anger when the guy keeps checking you out, shamelessly, following you with his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at your ass. You’re not even aware of it as it seems and it wouldn’t be the first time.

Steve saw you at Big Buy’s the other day, you were strolling around the aisles in your cute little dress, throwing food items into your basket, completely unaware of his eyes on you. He couldn’t look away from you… even when everything you did was riling him up, whether it was the way you bend down to reach for something on the lowest shelf, the way you touched your hair or the way your dress was moving by your sides as you walked. As he caught himself staring at you, at your effortless beauty, he knew that he couldn’t be the only one – and his suspicions were confirmed, when he looked into the other aisle only to see another guy, not past his 30s staring at you, something that you weren’t aware of in the slightest. He also caught himself rolling his eyes and clenching his fists… but that’s something that he easily ignored.

Unlike today, he can’t even help it when he passes the guy who can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you with a deathly glare on his features, feeling anger for how shameless and disrespectful his ogling is, it’s disgusting.

“Perv,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, glaring the same way Steve does.

The guy doesn’t even spare them a single glance, moving past them after taking another long… too long look at you before he walks out of the diner.

Steve and Eddie roll their eyes, following you to the table that you have already picked, completely unaware of what just happened.

You sit down in the booth, sliding over to the window. You put your sunglasses down on the table and instantly reach for the menu.

Eddie sits down beside you, while Steve takes the seat across from you. He tries not to look at you, sinking deeper into the leather seats as he reaches for the menu, as well.

“What are you guys doing afterwards?” Eddie asks.

“Nothing, just gonna go back home and watch movies or something,” Steve mumbles, peeking over his menu and at you, to find you looking at him already.

“Perfect, why don’t you two have a little bonding moment and have a movie day together?” Eddie grins, wiggling his brows at the both of you.

Steve sees the way you scrunch your nose up at his words, scoffing and shaking your head at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing that you have ever heard, like it’s something that you don’t even want to think about.

“We’re getting along just fine, no need for bonding time.”

Right. Steve had been so focused on all your teasing, he almost forgot about how much you two are supposed to dislike each other.

“Exactly,” Steve winks at Eddie, “Blondie and I are doing just fine.”

He looks back at you, his eyes meet yours, you raise your brows at him, smirking as you tilt your head.

“Are we?” You ask softly as you blink at him.

Steve leans closer, licking his lips, he opens his mouth to speak but Eddie cuts him off, clapping his hands.

“Yeah, you are getting along! Now shut your mouths before you start a fight.”

You both snort at the metalhead, leaning back in your seats, neither of you saying a word, you both just look back at your menu’s, focusing on that… for now.

The busy waitress stops by your table, telling you that she will be back to take your order in a minute, seemingly catching Eddie off guard after placing her hand on his shoulder before she scurries away again.

He no longer looks at the menu, he finds something more interesting to look at.

Steve’s eyes flash with amusement as he looks over at his friend, whose eyes are wide and cheeks are red, an awestruck expression all over his face. He can’t help but nudge your foot under the table, tilting his head towards Eddie when you look up with a frown.

You turn to your best friend. Your features soften, eyes flashing with surprise, you bump your shoulder into his, clearing your throat, “hey Ed’s, before you fuck this up again, don’t you want to tell Lego head about what happened?” You ask, snickering.

Eddie blinks, turning back to you, “h-huh?”

“You have a man to give you his opinion of what you did wrong.”

Steve furrows his brows, looking between your amused face and his confused one, when Eddie’s eyes flash with realization and he groans in annoyance.

“Sweetheart, he’s gonna be on my side.”

“What opinion?” Steve asks.

You turn back to your menu, scoffing at Eddie and rolling your eyes before you glance at him, “you’ll want to kill him.”

Eddie groans, shaking his head, his curls bouncing a little.

“You’ll understand, Harrington. You’re a man. She is… looking at it from a feminine side of things.”

Steve gives you a quizzical look, almost laughing at the exasperated look on your face.

“Alright shoot,” he says to his friend.

Eddie presses his lips together, taking a deep breath before he folds his hand on the table and looks at him with squinted eyes, “okay so, I saw this girl at the hideout yesterday, Jeff told me to go talk to her, you know… so I did. We started talking, she was funny and all that, and you know, I always like to be a little mysterious.”

You snort, making Eddie roll his eyes again, “shut it, Sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Anyways,” Eddie sighs, glaring at you, “so, when she asked me if I was there with a girl, I just said ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’”

Steve draws back a little, raising his brows and pursing his lips, looking perplexed.

“Uh huh..” You murmur, keeping your eyes on Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve shakes his head, “just uh… did it… what happened then?”

Eddie sighs again, “well, she rolled her eyes and left, but you know, she may not have a sense of humor so… it’s whatever.”

“Munson, that girl had a sense of humor, you just have a lack of fucking tact,” Steve says, shaking his head at his friend, in pure disbelief.

Eddie’s jaw drops at his words, while a laugh falls from your lips as you turn to look at your best friend with nothing but satisfaction on your face.

“Told you.”

“Seriously!?” Eddie gasps, frowning. “Harrington, you were always mean to girls in the past, and you still slept with them!”

Steve scoffs, shaking his head.

“That was in high school, Munson! You are a grown up now, why the hell would you do that? Just tell her you were there alone or with friends!”

Eddie’s jaw drops again, he slumps back in his seat, throwing his hands up.

“I just thought that a mysterious persona would work better than… you know… bubbly, happy, go lucky guy, desperate to get his dick wet persona…” He whines, “no one wants to fuck me.”

You giggle, hiding your face behind the menu.

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, he points a finger at you, “I’m gonna have to agree with Blondie, again, you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t worry, Eds. I’ll help you,” you say, smiling, “I’ll teach you how to flirt.”

“How are you gonna do that, Blondie? Do you even know how to flirt?” Steve snorts.

You may be a tease, a good one at that, but a flirt? No. You’re too rough, too mean, too harsh to be a flirtatious person, you can barely hold a conversation with someone without going off at them about something, you wouldn’t even know where to begin with, unlike him.

He is a flirty person, he has charm, he knows how to wrap a girl around his finger with just a few simple words.

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he surely didn’t expect for you to smile at him, to shrug and give him nothing more than a glance that tells him how wrong he is.

After the waitress comes back to take your order, leaving Eddie a blushing mess, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to come back with your hair now free from the scrunchie that kept it together and another coat of gloss on your lips, something that instantly catches Steve’s eyes.

You place your elbows on the table, putting your chin into your palm, blinking at him innocently.

The look in your eyes tells him that you’re up to no good, but he can’t look away. He leans closer to the table, licking his lips as he raises his brows at you. Both of you are unaware of Eddie, who is basically drooling over the pretty waitress, too distracted to notice the looks you are giving to each other.

“The waitress, is she from Hawkins? Never seen her in my fucking life,” Eddie murmurs in awe.

Steve turns his head to look at the woman, a gasp nearly tears from his lips when he feels your foot on his calf and you pull his attention back on you, he stares at you with wide eyes.

Smirking in satisfaction, you pull your foot back and look down at your nails.

“I-I don’t know, Munson, not familiar.” He stutters without looking away.

Steve knew that this would happen, that you would tease him in one way or another, but he didn’t know yet, just where you would take this today.

When your milkshakes arrive at the table, both you and Steve watch Eddie with amusement as he stares up at the blonde waitress, eyes moving back and forth between her face and her chest, not knowing what to look at first.

His eyes get stuck on the dainty cross necklace around her neck, seemingly growing more intrigued by her, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones.

Steve narrows his eyes at you, almost laughing when you look at him, at the same time.

Eddie’s cheeks are even more flushed than before now, his eyes wide, lips parted. The girl presses her lips together, trying not to giggle at the look on his face.

“Your food will come right up,” she says, looking between you all before her eyes meet Eddie’s again as she takes the last milkshake off the tray, putting it on the table and sliding it towards him.

He clears his throat, wrapping his fingers around the glass before she can even let go.

Both you and Steve watch the way she smiles down at Eddie and at the fingers brushing against hers.

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he smirks at her, surprising both you and Steve with the confidence in his voice.

The girl smiles in surprise, before she turns around, walking away from the table but not without giving Eddie another glance, his lips curl into a bigger smirk and he waves his fingers at her.

Your mouth drops and so does Steve’s, both of you, looking at each other again, with stunned and puzzled expressions on your faces.

“Dude,” Steve mumbles, slowly turning to face his friend, “tell me… how did you fuck this up again… at the hideout, I mean?”

Eddie only looks back when the girl disappears into the kitchen, “the girl at the hideout just wasn’t the right one.”

“Oh, and this one is?” Steve chuckles, pointing his thumb to where the waitress walked off to.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, dreamily. “She’s so…”

“Hot?” You ask as you reach for your milkshake, grabbing the red and white straw between your thumb and your pointer finger.

“Gorgeous,” he blushes.

Your lips tug into a smile, you bring your hand up to his face, pinching his cheek, “aw, look at you.”

He swats your hand away, snorting.

“I thought you didn’t know how to flirt, you’re doing such a good job, keep it up, Eds.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” Eddie winks at you before he looks away, eyes searching for the waitress again.

“He doesn’t need your help after all,” Steve laughs, tilting his head, “not that you’d be much of a help anyways.”

You squint your eyes at him, shrugging at his words, and you surprise him with your silence.

He watches the way you lean forward, placing your elbow on the table as you finally wrap your lips around the straw. Your eyelashes flutter and you tap your red fingernails against the glass, a moan falling from your lips.

“Mmmh, that’s so good.”

Steve nearly jumps from his seat, the sound making his stomach flutter, he clenches his fists, staring at you with wide eyes.

There’s no smirk on your lips, no mischief behind your eyes, nothing but innocence is etched into your features – you’re not even teasing him, it was nothing but a genuine reaction to the sweet drink. And it’s something that frustrates him even more.

You reach for the maraschino cherry next, popping it into your mouth before you lick the whipped cream off your finger.

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, he shifts in his seat, trying to look away from your lips… that are still wrapped around your finger but he can’t, his eyes are stuck, his body is stuck, he can’t move, all that he can do is watch you.

And then, you look towards him, eyes flashing with surprise when you find him staring. He hopes to see you blushing but instead, a smirk tugs at your lips as you release your finger, scooping up some more whipped cream before you bring it up to your lips.

And this is where the real teasing begins.

Steve nearly gasps when you hold eye contact this time as you lick the cream off your fingers, letting out another, softer moan.

Holy fuck.

Steve’s eyes darken, he swallows harshly, clenching his jaw in anger.

Eddie is too busy with his own milkshake, ogling the waitress as she talks to customers at the bar, completely unaware of how you both eyefuck each other, the way Steve can’t take his eyes off of you.

By the look in your eyes, Steve knows how much fun you’re having with this, you know how much it frustrates him, you know what you’re doing to him.

And as though, all of this wasn’t bad enough already. You then accidentally drop some of the whipped cream on your chest.

“Oops,” you purr, giving him an innocent look through your lashes.

The warmth in his chest only grows more intense, spreading across his whole body, filling him up with need and a deep hunger that keeps growing and growing, one that can only be satiated in one way – he needs you, just once, he needs to have you, he needs to taste you, he needs to fuck you, he needs you out of his system for good.

He had enough of this, of all this teasing.

He would fuck you right there on this table if he could.

But, despite your teasing, despite the look in your eyes, despite your little act, he is still not sure about where you stand. He knows how you react to his touches, to his teasing, but a part of him fears rejection if he does make a move.

You are barely even friends, and the thought of making a fool of himself, in front of you, makes him want to crawl into a hole.

You are both playing this game, but while he knows what he wants, he doesn’t know what you want.

Maybe you just enjoy this little back and forth, waiting for him to break first before you move along and pretend like nothing ever happened. Maybe you don’t even expect anything to come out of this. Maybe you don’t even want him the way he wants you. Maybe you just like to tease him because you know that it's riling him up.

So what is left for him to do?

Stop this game and move on? Or… keep going and wait for something more to happen?

He’s had enough of your teasing, but he’s far from losing, there is still some power left in him… some.

He won’t sit here and let you get away with this.

So despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants, despite the burning in his skin, he plasters a smirk on his blushing face and reaches forward, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he mimics you, he grabs his glass and he reaches for the cherry on his milkshake, purposely dropping some whipped cream on the table as he puts the cherry in his mouth. He chews slowly, licking his finger tips while he watches you slowly, the way your smile slowly falls, the way your eyes widen a little.

He bites back the smirk as he scoops up the whipped cream off the table, with both his middle finger and ring finger, bringing them up to his lips, he looks back into your wide eyes as he places them into his mouth, watching the way you break eye contact to look at his lips.

Your throat bobs as you swallow, tightening your grip on your glass as you watch the way he licks his fingers slowly.

He can see the way you shift in your seat, the way your breathing gets heavier and your eyes darken, the way you lick your lips and how flustered you get as you look back into his eyes.

You are pressing your thighs together, he just knows you are.

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, smirking at you in satisfaction while you still sit there, frozen in place. He breaks eye contact, looking down at his vanilla milkshake as though nothing happened.

“You gotta give this one a ride home, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at you without tearing his eyes away from the bar, “I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer.”

You clear your throat.

Steve expects you to be more… nervous, to hear your voice wavering, but instead, it sounds confident, filled with yet more teasing as you open your mouth to speak.

“Oh, I would love a ride home with Stevie,” you smile at him innocently as your foot touches his calf again, but this time, it doesn’t just stay there, you move it up, just a little, but enough to nearly make him choke on his drink.

“So you can keep getting on his nerves?” Eddie chuckles.

You lick your lips, smirking as you nod your head slowly, “exactly.”

Yeah, you don’t really do this anymore, getting on each other’s nerves, you both have found something so much better and much more interesting to do to one another.

“You know I always win, Blondie,” Steve says so very confidently, like he isn’t slowly losing his mind because his want for you is beginning to consume him entirely.

You tilt your head at him as you bite your lip, the sleeve of your blouse slowly sliding down your shoulder, making him gulp.

“Do you?” You ask, batting your lashes at him, provoking him with the look on your face.

He bites the insides of his cheeks, nodding at your words, “mhmm.”

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips, you shrug and lean back, “we’ll see.”

Eddie doesn’t know that you’re talking about something entirely else now, but he couldn’t care less, when he’s got his eyes set on someone that stole his breath away.

He uses every second he gets with the pretty waitress to flirt, whether it’s through glances when she passes by or through his charming words when she delivers the food to the table.

He happily eats his burger and his fries, eyes following the blonde wherever she goes, completely blind to what’s happening right next to and in front of him.

You and Steve keep staring at one another, eyes filled with intense need, hands itching to reach out to the other.

Steve feels the longing inside his chest, intensifying as the minutes go by, driving him insane. It gets to a point where he can’t wait to get the hell out of this diner so he can go home and take care of himself. He is not sure if he had ever felt this desperate before – he surely never had to rush home to jerk off, but that’s what he feels like now, like he’s going to explode if he sits here any longer.

The moment you decide on leaving, Steve nearly throws himself out of his seat, feeling no patience left inside of him.

“I got this covered,” Eddie announces, pulling out his wallet as he gets out of the booth so you can get out, “you two can go.”

You grab your sunglasses and get up, putting your hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I see what you’re trying to do, you wanna get rid of us so you can flirt with the hot blonde.”

He wiggles his brows, smirking at you proudly, “gotta score a date with my dream girl.”

Steve chuckles, grabbing the car keys from his pocket, he smirks at Eddie, “just don’t mess it up again.”

Eddie shakes his head, “nah never.”

“Alright casanova, call me and tell me how it went.”

“Call you?” He frowns, “I’ll be there to raid your kitchen tonight, sweets.”

You step away from him, brushing past Steve, “alright raccoon, I’ll see you later then.”

“See ya,” he chuckles.

With a sigh, Steve looks at Eddie, playing with his keys and giving him a nod.

“Good luck, man.”

“Thanks,” Eddie winks, “and don’t kill each other!” He jokes, ignoring the weird looks he’s given from an older couple two booths away.

“Don’t worry, we’re not at that point anymore.”

You’re at a whole different point now, one that doesn’t make him angry, not exactly, just one that drives him up the wall.

Steve stares at your hips, at the way your shorts hug your body so nicely, the way your ass looks so good in them. He forces his eyes away, feeling a little startled when you turn around to face him before you open the door, a friendly smile appears on your face and he realizes that you aren’t looking at him, but at Eddie’s ‘dream girl’, waving goodbye at the girl before you step out.

He feels the sudden need to talk, hoping that you won’t tease him any further in the car, because if you do, he isn’t sure if he will manage to control himself the way he did, the whole time at the diner.

He rubs the back of his neck, walking down the steps, he clears his throat.

“Do you think he will manage to score a date?”

You slow down as you put your sunglasses on, “yeah, I’m pretty sure he will.”

Steve chuckles, nodding.

“She seems nice, and she’s pretty,” you say.

So are you. Steve thinks to himself.

“She’s got the kind of blonde hair you wanted when you ruined your hair with the blonde dye, huh?”

Steve can’t see your eyes behind your sunglasses, but he can see the amused look on your features as your lips curl into a smile.

He ignores the way it feels when you step closer to him, when your hand brushes against his knuckles, sending chills throughout his whole body.

“Actually, I wanted it even lighter, and how would I know that the pictures on the box dye were lies, it said it lightens up any hair color to that specific color!”

Steve laughs at you, “what color were you hoping for?”

You shrug, stepping away from him again when you walk around his car to the passenger side.

“I wanted like a Dolly Parton or uh… Heather Locklear kind of blonde.”

He unlocks the car and opens his door, raising his brows at you, “wow, you should have gone to a hair salon, Blondie.”

You lift your sunglasses, rolling your eyes at him, “it was a spontaneous decision, I thought I could handle that myself, I’m definitely never touching hair dye again.”

“Just call me, next time,” he winks at you as he gets into the car, “I’m a pro at doing hair.”

You laugh at him as you get in as well, “didn’t know you were a hairdresser, Harrington.”

“They don’t call me ‘the hair’ for nothing.”

“Oh wow. I wouldn’t trust you with my hair, who knows what color you’d dye my hair to.”

“Maybe I’d get it to the Dolly Parton blonde that you wanted.”

“Yeah, right!” You scoff at him, “cause you’re such an expert!”

A smile tugs at his lips, it almost feels normal, sitting here in his car with you, talking like this, it almost distracts him enough from the strong tension between you both, from the pull that is dragging him towards you, more and more.

Despite the frustration that he feels from all your teasing, he cannot help but want to keep playing the little game.

The sun is shining brightly, pulling down the sun visor won’t be enough – how convenient it is that he keeps his sunglasses in the glove compartment. He could ask you to get them but instead, he moves closer, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs before he places his hand on your knee as he reaches forward so he can get his ray-ban’s.

Satisfaction rushes through him when he hears you sucking in a sharp breath.

But, his longing intensifies when he gets a whiff of your perfume and feels how soft your skin actually is.

He clearly never thinks things through, his little plans always backfire.

The want to wrap his hand around your thigh and keep it there is so strong… so goddamn strong, but he pulls away begrudgingly, holding back the smirk when he feels your eyes on him. He puts the sunglasses on, and finally starts the car.

Your silence surprises him, but he knows that it’s something that won’t stay for long.

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran starts playing and Steve almost wants to laugh at the irony, this is exactly what he feels like right now, hungry like a fucking wolf, hungry for you.

If you had been any other girl, he would’ve made a move on you, a long long time ago. He would have flirted more obviously, he would’ve taken your hand in his, he would’ve brushed your hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you.

But you’re not just any girl, you’re… you.

You love this little game, and no matter how flustered you get, no matter the looks you are giving him, he still struggles to read you, he still struggles to figure out whether you want what he wants or not.

He is waiting for a sign, but it’s almost like he’s blind to anything you give to him.

He holds the steering wheel tightly, keeping his other hand on the gearstick, dangerously close to your thigh. He keeps sneaking glances at you, at your soft skin, at the way you press your legs together, at the way your fingers play with the loose string on your shorts.

Steve’s face grows hot, his heart beating faster in his chest.

He almost feels relieved when your house comes into view, and he pulls up into your driveway.

“So… what are you doing today?” You ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt, “besides having a movie day by yourself.”

You turn your body towards him, not making any moves to get out of the car yet.

“Uh… I don’t know,” he lies, his cheeks glowing red.

He already knows what he’s gonna do the moment he walks through his front door.

You take your sunglasses off, biting your lip as your eyes move up and down his body, making him shift uncomfortably, yet again.

“Well, I’m going to lay out in the sun, in my new red bikini.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and he almost starts drooling at the images that start forming in his mind.

Images of you… half naked.

“We should have a pool party at some point,” you smile, blinking at him as you start inching closer to him, looking down at his lips.

“Uh huh…”

“But anyways, I should get going,” you sigh, catching him by surprise when you place your hand on his thigh, so dangerously close to where he needs you the most, “thanks for the ride, Stevie.”

And as though that wasn’t bad enough.

You almost cause his heart to stop beating, when your face is only inches away from him now, and you press your lips against his cheek, kissing him, completely shocking him, leaving him a stuttering mess.

He lost all ability to speak, all he can do is stare at you, as his skin tingles and his heart races.

You smirk at him, eying his red cheeks.

“Who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever blush for me,” you say smugly, before you pull away and get out of the car, giggles falling from your lips. Without another word, you close the door and walk away, looking over your shoulder one more time, still giggling.

Fuck.

His frustration turns into anger when the realization starts creeping in slowly.

The smug look on your face, the smirk and your stupid giggles prove his point, that you did all of this not because you wanted him, but because you wanted to win this fucking game.

That’s all it is, that’s all it ever was.

A game.

He doesn’t know what the feeling in his chest is, whether it’s the feeling of annoyance or rejection, but it only irritates him even further, especially when all he can think about is still you.

You in your stupid red bikini, lying under the sun, looking pretty and hot… looking like someone he can never have, not even for a single night.

He is angry, angry at himself for still wanting you, for needing you, for wishing that he could feel your bare body underneath him, for wishing to hear your moans, your voice calling out his name, your hands clinging to his body, fingers tugging at his hair.

Despite the rejection, he feels his stupid jeans getting tighter, his dick straining against the fabric, making him feel uncomfortable and so needy to a point that the moment he gets home, he rushes upstairs and into the bathroom.

He slams the door shut and presses his back against it, hastily unbuckling his belt, the clinking and his heavy breathing being the only sounds to fill the room… for now. He pushes down his boxers and his pants, just enough so he can pull his dick out – his tip is an angry red, already leaking with pre cum, he spits into his hand before he wraps his hand around his aching cock.

That is all that it takes for a needy whimper to fall from his lips.

He closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the door as he starts jerking off slowly.

Images of you curse and bless his mind at the same time.

He wonders what it would be like to feel your hand around his dick or what it would be like to feel your lips on his neck, your whispers in his ear as you take care of him.

He furrows his brows, lips parting as his moans get louder and he begins to move his hand faster and faster, squeezing his eyes shut.

He pictures you on your knees for him, your hands replaced by your lips as he shuts you up with his cock in your mouth, silencing you once and for all, while tears stream down your cheeks.

“Oh fuck…” Steve whimpers, getting lost in pleasure.

He wanted nothing more than to bend you over the table when you started teasing him with the stupid whipped cream, but all he can think about now is you on your knees worshiping him.

His muscles tighten as he increases the tempo, using his thumb to rub the slit as he imagines it being the tip of your tongue as you look at him with big and teary eyes.

And he doesn’t know for how long he was imagining you like this, but it doesn’t matter because he is soon spilling in his hand, a loud groan escaping his lips as well as a shaky breath, the back of his head hitting the door as he tries to ease his breathing.

Maybe three minutes passed, or twenty, but it didn’t matter. His cum is already on his hand and in your honor.

But this didn’t satiate his hunger, nor his lust for you in the slightest.

Nothing that he could possibly do will.

He can imagine you and take care of himself all he wants, but it won’t change the way he wants you, the way he craves you.

He knows that there is only one way to get rid of this.

Tomorrow he will put his frustration away. That’s all it is, frustration. He just needs to let it out. He needs to fucking breathe again.

Yeah. Tomorrow.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

732 notes · View notes