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#chris pine masterlist
astraystayyh · 2 months
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pieces of you
single dad!chan. x fem!reader
genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc
summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!
winter falls masterlist.
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i. 
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“Shh, daddy smile.”
Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 
A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.
“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 
“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 
“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 
“Your dad?”
“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 
“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 
“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 
She isn't shy because she feels protected.
You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  
He’s beautiful. 
Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.
“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.
“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 
“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 
“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.
“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 
“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 
“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”
“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 
“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 
“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.
“Yn. And you?”
“Chris.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 
Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 
Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 
“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 
Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 
“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”
“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 
“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 
“Touché.” 
A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 
“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 
“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”
“You don’t know how to make them?” 
“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 
“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 
“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 
“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 
Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.
“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”
“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”
“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 
An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 
One hour later 
You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 
“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 
“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 
“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 
“You made them?” 
“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 
“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 
“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 
“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 
“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.��
“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 
“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 
“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 
“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.
“I…. I'll get going.”
“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”
“I'll see you around.” 
“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 
ii. 
“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 
You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.
You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 
“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 
“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 
“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 
“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 
The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.
“I can text you the address?” you propose. 
“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.
“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 
“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 
“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 
“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.
“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 
“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”
“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 
“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 
“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 
“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 
“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 
“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 
“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 
“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 
“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 
And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.
“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 
“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 
“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 
“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 
“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”
“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”
You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.
“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 
Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?
“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.
“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 
“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 
“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”
“Will you watch a movie later with me?”
“Of course, baby.”
“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 
“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”
“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 
“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 
Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 
“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 
iii.
You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.
“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 
“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Just with salt?”
“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 
Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.
It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 
“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.
“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 
“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 
“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 
He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 
“We? You were behind my back all the time.”
 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”
 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”
 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”
 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”
 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 
And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 
“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 
“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.
“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”
“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.
It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.
“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 
“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 
“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 
“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 
“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 
“The company.”
“I do find Sowon entertaining.”
“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 
“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”
“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”
“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 
“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 
“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 
He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 
He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 
Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 
One week later. 
You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.
“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 
“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.
“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  
“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”
“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 
“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”
“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.
“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.
“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.
“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”
“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 
“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.
“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.
“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.
Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.
“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.
“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 
“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 
“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 
The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 
“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 
You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.
“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 
“Will she be okay?” 
“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 
“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 
"She looks just like you," you softly smile.
"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.
“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 
“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 
You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.
A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.
You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.
The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.
Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 
"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 
“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.
“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 
“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”
“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”
“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 
“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 
“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 
“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 
“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”
You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.
“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 
“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 
Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 
“Why are you apologizing?” 
“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 
Five days later.
chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?
yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years
chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs
chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 
chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 
yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 
chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 
You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 
“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 
“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”
“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 
“Can I read what you wrote?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”
May these words be the first to find your ears
The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here
I'll give you everything I have
I'll teach you everything I know
I promise I'll do better
I will soften every edge
I'll hold the world to its best
And I'll do better
Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 
“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 
Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 
“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 
His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.
“Talk to me?” 
“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 
Chris��� mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 
“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 
Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 
“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 
“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”
You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 
“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 
He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 
“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”
“Is that what she told you that movie night?”
“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 
“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.
You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.
“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 
“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 
“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.
“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.
“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.
connected.mp3 starts playing. 
Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 
You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 
“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 
So, you put on your best taunting smirk.
“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”
He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.
“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.
“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 
“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”
"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.
“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.
“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.
“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 
“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 
“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.
To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 
You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 
Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 
iv. 
You’re avoiding him. 
Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 
Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 
He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 
He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.
He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 
He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.
How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?
“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.
“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.
“I don't know, baby.”
“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 
“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”
“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.
“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 
“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 
“Okay!” 
In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.
So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 
“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.
“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.
“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.
"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."
Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 
And then you speak.
“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”
“Of course, always.”
“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“
“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.
He’s as scared as you are.
“Chris…”
“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”
“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 
“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”
He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I'm staying.”
“You are?”
“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 
“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.
“Thank you for asking me to stay.”
“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 
“What happened to connected Chris?” 
“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”
Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 
“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”
“Good night, yn.”
You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 
you win. 
“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”
He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.
bonus (one year later). 
“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 
“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.
“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 
“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”
“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.
“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 
It's her first time calling you mom. 
You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"
“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”
“What happened to being a stylist?”
“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 
“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 
In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.
He’ll propose to you tomorrow.
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randomshyperson · 9 months
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Best (Girl)Friends - Wanda Maximoff x Rogers!Reader
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Summary: Wanda sympathizes with your willpower. 70 years on ice is a long time to wait for an intimate touch. And being the good friend that she is, Wanda offers you some help.
Warnings: (+18), some vague plot, smut with virginity loss, Rogers!Reader following all Wanda’s wishes, power bottom!Wanda, kissing, friends to lovers, mutual pining, explicit consent but Wanda being a tease and a bit possessive. | Words: 4.893k
A/-N-> I’m pretty sure this was a request, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. 
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |
-&-
Shield acted as if they won the lottery.
In a way, it felt like that. Two Rogers siblings found on the same day would probably yield some promotions within the teams responsible, and a nice image bonus with the US government. 
But while Captain America was found in a negative temperature on the other side of the planet, his sister destroyed an entire building with her sudden appearance inside a blue explosion a few hours later.
In your defense, you had no idea what was about to happen. 
One minute, you were inside a Howard Stark-designed marine suit at the bottom of the ocean. But in Shield's defense, you were disobeying the orders of your director, that is, Margaret Carter on the phone, who five minutes earlier insisted that she would not risk losing another Rogers and that reaching the cube was not worth the risk to your safety, but you still put on the prototype underwater suit and dived in search of the item, which, to you, was the key to finding your brother.
You were right, in a way. Touching the cube with the determined idea that you would like to see Steve again really worked. The problem was how it happened. 
The explosion was all around you, and you saw nothing but the beam of blue light that forced you to close your eyes. One moment you were deep in the sea, and the next you were in the middle of one of the Shield Secret Bases, a thousand of bricks flying around with the force of the explosion.
Your presence in the secret room of Project PEGASUS caused Shield to be on high alert, and a dozen rifles to be pointed in your face.
But it was all cleared up in no time and ended with your figure handcuffed on the seat of a government Jet on its way to New York.
Unlike Steve, you were awake. And not the least bit in the mood to follow Nick Fury's theatrical demands.
"That's to avoid shock, Miss Rogers-"
"Absolutely not, Nicholas." You cut him off impatiently, your hands-free since Shield had clarified exactly who you were. "The first thing I'm saying to my brother won't be a lie."
Nick sighed. "I understand it's a delicate situation, Miss, but Captain Rogers has been frozen for too long. An innocent fantasy is meant to lessen the shock of the truth."
You skirted Nick without caring about the speech. "There's no way to lighten news like this one. We're both in the future, for Chris’s sake! That it's absurd enough. No more lies, and let me see my brother for once. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that." 
Fury didn't have the heart to insist, not only because he had another supersoldier getting him out of the way, but because of the emotion in your voice. He waved in dismissal to any soldier more curious about your determined walk, and no one interfered as you made your way to the room where they placed your brother.
Shield had begun to create a scenario around him that made you chuckle in irony. You dismissed the agent posing as a nurse with a look, and Nick allowed you to be alone in the room, and without wasting any time, you made your way to the bed.
Steve looked the same as he did the day he disappeared, and you felt a sob break in your throat. Maybe the sound woke him up.
He opened confused eyes at you, and unlike him, you had aged a lot since the last time he had seen you when you were still a child. 
"Hey, Stevie." Your greeting came hoarsely, laden with emotion. Steve took a moment to recognize you.
"Y/N?" He asked, tense and startled. You could almost see the gears of his brain working, the way he tried to recognize his surroundings as well. "God, how long have I...?"
"Longer than you can imagine, big brother. Much longer." You replied before hugging him tightly. 
This must have been the last entirely friendly interaction you had with your brother, a reunion bittersweet for its peculiarities that was unable to conciliate years of differences between the two of you. Nor did the ice erase your hurt over Steve sending you away from the war when your parents passed away, or make you forget the years of training and working for Shield in search of him once you were back in Brooklyn. Nor did it change Steve's view of how he wanted to protect and keep out of trouble - which included superhero work - his younger sister who he had vowed to take care of.
But it was indeed an undeniable amusement to the rest of the team that the personalities of the Rogers siblings were so blatantly different, and it caused some apprehension every time Steve had to witness you leaving the tower in some sports car borrowed from Tony Stark while dressed in leather jackets borrowed from Natasha Romanoff.
The apex that you were entirely corrupted for all that he expected from a proper 1950s girl came in the addition of a certain angry witch to the team a while later.
Of course, the close age - if one ignores the years between the time jump and your arrival - you and Wanda had made your friendship an inevitability. But this doesn't mean that witnessing your clear crush on the new Avenger wasn't giving your older brother a headache.
Natasha thinks he deserved some credit. Considering he was a white man from the 1950s who was frozen before appearing in a new century, Steve was pretty open-minded. She was pretty sure this was due to the closet years of keeping a secret crush on his best friend, but she wouldn't be mean enough to torment Steve with that. 
And besides this, you were also getting used to the new century. And with the possibility of being able to have feelings for Wanda in an open and free way, so different from the world you lived in before.
The witch, on the other hand, had the greatest of fun tormenting you as much as she could while she waited for you to be ready.
And these teases came at every opportunity Wanda could take, from summer days at the tower pool where she had an excuse to wear bikinis around you and make a complete mess of you with the "friendly cuddling" which is how she came to justify the fact that your room was hers now and that there was nothing more platonical than sleeping cuddled up to your best friend.
With each passing moment, you grew comfortable and certain in your own feelings, parallel to which you became more confident in your powers and Wanda began to feel that the tables were turning on her every time a tickle war ended with you using your super-strength to pin her to the bed or you could effortlessly carry her away from a training session or conflict.
It didn't take long for the situation to become unbearable - Wanda was sure she would combust in the next cuddling session if she felt your body against hers again without that leading to what she really wanted, so now she had to take drastic action.
Communication was always the key to everything.
"Have you ever had sex?"
Your cell phone fell hard on your face. Wanda giggled at the mirror reflection: she was on her back brushing her hair and stealing glances at your figure lying on the bed, still learning to use the current technology but definitely loving the whole thing.
Snorting in embarrassment, you pushed the electronic device down onto the mattress and massaged your sore face. "I'm beginning to think you enjoy seeing me like this."
"What do you mean?" She asks innocently, turning her attention to the ring drawer. 
"Disconcerted."
Wanda chuckles mischievously, running her fingers through the options and trying to decide between the items as you stare at the ceiling. "I know you're like 100 years old, but won’t you tell me that it never happened? Not even when you became a hottie super soldier?"
You grunted in shame, covering your face with your arm. Wanda giggled again, this time putting on one of the silver rings. You were too far away to notice how her fingers were slightly trembling, giving away how she was equally affected by the conversation. But unlike you, Wanda knew how to keep it cool very well.
"Wandaaa." You grumbled, and she almost dropped the subject when you added. "No."
"No, what?"
With a sigh, you removed your arm from in front of your face but didn't risk looking at her. "Back then...I just, I didn't have the courage I guess. You know, girls were supposed to be virgins to marry, in theory. And well, I wasn't going to marry anyone because I was too busy working. And when I got into the army, the vast majority of the guys I knew started looking at me with contempt and indignation, and then came the serum I just...didn't know how to handle the attention."
Wanda spun the stool she was sitting on toward you, listening closely to your words. 
You sighed shyly. "I mean I had opportunities, but I just didn't feel comfortable following them. I wanted... to be with someone who liked me. Not the super serum, you know? Most people were only talking to me because of it. They hoped to gain some kind of benefit from meeting the American Soldier. I don't know, maybe it's just me trying not to sound so... cowardly."
Wanda stood up with a sigh, and you swallowed dryly, keeping your gaze on the ceiling until her face appear in your field of vision.
"Detka, you are literally the bravest person I know." Reminded the witch, bringing a small smile to you. "And there's nothing wrong with not being ready, or waiting for the right person. Sex is intimate, it makes sense that you want it to happen with someone you like and who likes you back."
"Thank you for being understanding." You muttered, swallowing dryly when instead of returning to her previous activities, Wanda sat down on the bed next to you. With a sigh and shifting your gaze to the ceiling again, you ventured, "Have you?"
Wanda's teasing giggle brought a deep color to your face. "Have I what?"
Snorting, you retorted, "Come on, you're the one who brought this up."
Wanda pinched you gently on the belly, smiling at your complaint. “A few times, actually.'"
It made no sense at all to feel jealous of a time you didn't even know her, and that you were somehow in the past, but still, a bitter burn filled your stomach. Wanda, the telepath that she was, seemed to know exactly what you were thinking, and without caring whether it would make your heart stop or not, approached you to use your torso as her personal pillow. With two legs on which side of your hips, she stared down at you.
"But it was nothing outstanding." She began, using her fingertips to wander all the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders through your pajamas and having the best time in the world in watching every single hair of you shiver. "I kept making the same mistake in settling down for mediocre sex. No real feelings, no passion, much less love. Always end up frustrated and having to finish the job alone."
You frowned in confusion. "Alone...?" But it only took one look from Wanda for you to understand what she meant and choke, your face pink again. The younger girl giggled, leaning her elbow on you to rest her chin on her own hand and take a closer look. 
"Eyes on me, baby." She asked, hoping you would overcome your own shyness to do so. When you follow her request, Wanda was ready to risk everything. "You know I love you, don't you?"
You sighed, nodding. "I love you too, Wanda." Your confession was huskier than hers, and she had to ignore the sincerity of what that really meant in order to stay focused on that afternoon's goal. "Kind of the essential thing on the best friend package, isn't it?"
Wanda chuckled, rolling her eyes. 
Of course, you would make a joke to lessen the intensity of the moment, if she was nervous in all her confident glory, she could have sympathy for you, who was literally having to deal with your long-time crush practicing lying over you.
"Friends help each other, don't they? Especially best friends." She retorted, and you frowned in confusion.
"Yeah, I guess… why, did something happen?" Before your confusion could turn to worry entirely and you could finish the movement of getting up, Wanda pressed her hands on your shoulders and pushed you back on the mattress.  "Hey." You chuckled puzzledly, but the laughter died into an affected sigh when Wanda simply shifted in your lap completely, in a very non-platonic way.  "Right, whatever makes you comfortable." You mutter, very aware of the heat radiating from the girl's body on top of you, who just chuckled mischievously at your shyness.
"Relax, dorogoya." Wanda reasserted in a low, dangerously seductive voice. Her hands were on your shoulders still, rubbing your loose pajamas and somehow pushing them down to the limits, exposing as much skin as Wanda could manage. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to...but I also need you to tell me exactly what you wanna do and how ready for me you are."
Your throat went dry, and Wanda's dilated pupils were not helping the words to form. She bit her lip, seeming to have the best time with your clumsiness.
"I-I... god, Wanda..." You gasped and she leaned in completely until her breath was hitting your cheek.
"How about a kiss? Don't tell me you never got one?" She mocked and you had to chuckle dryly.
"You can be quite an ass, Maximoff." You murmured with your eyes closed, risking moving your hands to her thighs around your hips, the action making you both hold your breaths for a second. "I've kissed before."
"Hmm, I see." She hits back, deviating from the original path and letting her mouth tease your jaw, feeling your hands squeeze her thighs gently with every kiss across your skin. What Wanda wouldn't do to see you lose control...
"I like kissing." You confess hoarsely, mostly because she’s making you so nervous that the words are simply spilling. You kept your eyes closed and your neck stretched to give her more room to don’t stop. Aware of your words, Wanda hums again as she keeps depositing chaste kisses on your collarbone. "I like...kissing girls."
It should be a heartfelt confession, one that Wanda theoretically knew about but that you've never put into words before. But suddenly, Wanda bit down on you, hard enough for you to grunt in pain, opening your eyes. She grabs your cheeks with one hand, a hot fury in her eyes that makes you shudder.
"Rule number one, don't talk about other girls when you have one on top of you."
You open your mouth like a fish, babbling nonsense for enough time for Wanda to make a motion of leaving. But that makes you react. "I didn't mean to upset you!" You try quickly, hands moving on an instinct to hold her by the waist on top of you. Wanda has to bite her lips hard to keep from letting out a much more submissive sound than she would like when you just squeeze her firmly to keep her there. "Wanda, please forgive me! I-you caught me off guard, alright? I’m nervous… We’re friends and suddenly… you’re so close and I’m talking nonsense! Please, just… tell me what you want to hear.”
She huffs impatiently, crossing her arms and turning her face away as you sigh in defeat. Wanda wants to be annoyed, but you're so lovely when you lean your face into her, trying to ease her anger with chaste kisses on her cheeks and neck until you manage to get from her a stubborn smile. She has no choice but to uncross her arms to slide her hands up your shoulders, wrapping herself around your body again. 
She feels you smile and relax completely, the kisses getting firmer on her neck until they tickle and elicit a husky giggle from her. Still, Wanda settles a hand in your hair, and the slight tug to bring your faces close together again draws a deep sigh from you.
"I don't want to hear about other girls, detka. This is your last warning." She says seriously with eyes glowing red for a moment. Wanda had hoped to have a direct effect, but to her surprise, a teasing smirk began to form on your lips.
"Wow, you're totally jealous." You accused and she grimaced, trying to pull away once more. But that only made you burst out into a teasing giggle, while your strong arms wrapped around her torso, bringing her back to you effortlessly while keeping her locked into you. Wanda was clearly aware of how shaky her legs were with the motion, and trying to walk away again would only result in her falling to the ground. "Wanda, darling, the girls I kissed must be a hundred years old by now."
Reluctantly and with a rosy tinge in her cheeks, she mutters, "Honestly, I was hoping to be your first."  Her confession makes you rise your eyebrows in surprise, only to smile fondly next. Your hands moved again, caressing her back in an attempt to relax her as well. 
"Hey, look at me." You call out gently, waiting for the girl's stubbornness to subside with the help of your caresses. Wanda has a stronger color on her face when she finally raises her eyes to you again. "I didn't imagine this was anything of relevance to you. But I haven't lied before, I've never been with someone intimately. If you still want to, you can be my first... everything else."
She twitches her nose softly. "You’re making it sound like it’s a favor for me. I only want to... if you do too." She retorts with a certain determination in her gaze, and though you feel your cheeks burn with the ultimatum, you nod foolishly before breaking the distance.
It catches Wanda by surprise, the sudden kiss, and you're despairing when she doesn't respond immediately, pulling away at the same speed you approached. "Sorry." You say mortified and breathless, your lips tingling. "I like you, Wan. I really do. I just thought you should know before..."
She places a finger over yours, shushing your nervous anticipation. Her free hand goes to your cheek and Wanda pulls you close again, her eyes darkening in a way that makes you shiver entirely.
"Like I said before, just relax, baby. Stop overthinking." She whispers before she firms her mouth over yours. It's a sensual, intense kiss unlike any you've ever received. Wanda seems determined to drive you to complete insanity. She kisses you unhurried, waiting for permission to slide her tongue into yours, and giving you no room to breathe properly, head spinning with those new yet so familiar needy feelings. She kisses and kisses you until you're restless beneath her, your body burning and your hands curious testing limits that she doesn’t impose, only encourages you to break. Her taste and smell intoxicate your every sense, the feel of her body molded to yours, teasing your reactions and almost making you lose control of your strength. The tight squeeze you give her when she sucks your tongue earns a whimper from her that sticks and echoes in your mind, making you dizzy with lust. When she finally breaks the kiss to breathe, her lips are swollen like yours, and her pupils are so dilated that there is no green left in them. Your face burns for the matching fire you find in her gaze.
You are unable to find any words to describe this moment, so you only stare at her, blushing over the smirk that starts to form on her lips once she catches the adoring look you’re giving her.
Licking your lips to try to gain some focus, you dare to ask: “Was it…good?” You would have added “Did you like” or “Was I enough” if Wanda didn't break into a giggle that shut you entirely, your cheeks burning. Before the shame could surface, she grabbed your cheeks again. “You’re too cute, darling.” She says, kissing you again more quickly than before. Her hands move to yours then, intertwining your fingers together to drag them on her thighs, down, and then back up, this time under her skirt. Your heart stopped, and Wanda turned her dark eyes back to yours, her voice so low you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close. “Don’t be shy, see for yourself how much I like kissing you.” She whispers darkly.
When she kisses you again, her hands guide you under her skirt until you're in her front. The mere contact of your fingers with the wet spot on her panties makes you groan and break the kiss, needing a moment to just take a breath and calm your nerves. Wanda doesn't wait long, releasing your hands to move hers to your shoulders, needing firm support now that you're so close to where she needs it so badly. She gasps in surprise when your hand gives a quick tug that rips her panties off at once, a wave of new wetness running down her thighs in the same second.
You don't say anything about it, just turns your face to kiss her again, the same way she did before, and somehow even dirtier and more sexual, drawing gasps with every flick of your tongue against hers.
Because Wanda's your best friend, she wants to taunt you - tease you about being better at this than you let on, but all the words fall away at once when your fingers fill her in one go. All Wanda can do is moan, choking on the kiss as she feels you slide into her with such ease. 
"Fuck, detka." She moans with her eyes tightly closed, just as she pulls away to breathe. Your response is to just continue your movements, in and out of her without haste, feeling every mention of her warm walls squeezing your fingers. Wanda is burning on top of you and the sound of her drenched pleasure echoes low. You hum contentedly, nipping at her neck as she can no longer match the kiss, so close to her own climax. Your hand adjusts, increasing its reach, and when your thumb gives her clit the attention it needs, Wanda lets out an affected squeal. "W-wanna cum, baby. Please!"
You bite back a smile, surprised and impressed by the question hidden in the statement. You adjust to face her and wait for Wanda to feel the change to look at you too. The dark, lust-filled pupils leave you breathless.
"You can cum, sweetheart, you don't even have to ask." You assure her softly, never stopping your movements inside her. "I'm here to please you." You whisper, and it's enough for Wanda to break into an affected moan, hips thrusting helplessly against your hand until she arches her back and lets out the longest, dirtiest moan you've ever heard. 
Her eyes flutter shut as she rides her high on your soaked hand, until she finally opens scarlet pupils for you, a long groan leaving her lips as the last sensations of the best orgasm she ever had fade away.
Wanda turns her full attention to you in the next second, stealing quick but intense kisses until a husky giggle leaves her lips and tickles yours.
"You're too good at this for your own good." She prompts, and the compliment takes a heartfelt giggle from you. You try to relax under her gaze but Wanda's dilated eyes have a different twinkle as she holds your cheeks more firmly. "I think I want to keep you all to myself. Without sharing with anybody else. What do you say, baby?"
You swallow dry, suddenly quite vulnerable "H-hm, like... dating?" You retort in a weak tone of voice because you need to confirm and well the idea that someone as unbelievably awesome as Wanda Maximoff is actually asking for exclusivity with you seems too freaking surreal not to confirm. As many times as necessary.
Wanda giggles mischievously, settling herself on top of your fingers that never left her and sighing as she feels you even deeper than before. "Yeah, just like that." She moans, and you're not sure if she's answering your question or guiding you through the motions, but you get the impression that the answer goes both ways. 
It's not like you will contradict your new girlfriend any further.
Before Wanda could indulge in the sensation again, however, she stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist. Raising curious eyes to the breathless flushed girl on top of you, your first reaction was to check if you had done something wrong, and by god, hurt her. But Wanda bit back a smile, her other hand going down to your belt.
"We're overdressed, honey." She whispered against your lips, red sparkles playing with the edge of your shirts, teasing them upward. " Strip."
Moaning low against her mouth, Wanda almost didn't let you pull away. In record time, your clothes were off and so were hers, between stolen panting kisses you fell to the mattress again, curious hands urging together.
Wanda pinned you beneath her with no effort despite your super strength, and feeling her naked against your skin drove you to the brink of insanity. She swallowed each moan with her mouth, appreciating the increasingly needy sounds as she fit against your hips, and began to move hers.
Soon, the friction became unbearably arousing and you had to clutch at the sheet, and the headboard. A hot, tight knot at the tip of your stomach left you breathless, every movement of Wanda's hips into yours, the perfect fit between your cunts was enough to make you choke. 
You practically meowed when she got the rhythm right. "O-oh god Wanda! T-there's something... fuck, I can't-"
"I know baby, just let go for me." She panted, her hands clenching the sheet on either side of your head, her hips frantic against yours. "Fuck, you feel amazing" She moans a confession, smiling satisfied at your expression of pure bliss beneath her.
Suddenly the knot bursts, and you're blinded by the pleasure of your first orgasm for a full moment. The headboard snaps in your left hand and Wanda cums in a loud, animalistic moan, spilling herself down on you before collapsing heavily onto your torso, your panting breaths mingling like your juices.
You try to recover together from the intensity of the climax, your hand finding her back on instinct to stroke her as Wanda nestles closer against you, an exhausted, satisfied smile on her lips.
She barely had a chance to lift her face to kiss you when the bedroom door suddenly opened.
"Kid, is everything all right in here I heard something breaking-'" 
You nearly knocked Wanda off the bed in an attempt to cover the two of you with the comforter - and the mattress lost a few springs in the process.
The two Avengers who'd entered the room covered their faces with their hands, but unlike your brother, Natasha was holding back her laughter.
"I'm sorry. We... I... you-"
"Come on Captain, we're leaving." Natasha cut Steve off with a pat on the shoulder, leading the way backward. "Sorry girls, lock the door next time. And well, use protection!" She burst out laughing, ignoring the embarrassed grumbles from you and Wanda, and closing the door.
With the safety of a locked door, you hid your face in your pillow.
"Great, the best day of my life might be ruined because my brother is going to have a stroke."  You grumbled, getting a hearty laugh from the other.
Wanda adjusted herself, stroking your hair until you looked at her again. "Best day of your life, huh? I'm flattered." She teases, smiling at the red that appears on your cheeks.
"As if you weren't cocky enough." You retort in the same tone, adjusting to hold her by the waist and pull her to you, getting on top now. Wanda sighs softly, even warmer with the addition of the blanket now, she finds it kind of hard to concentrate, much more talk. "Thank you, Wands."
Your line surprises her. "For what?"
"For being my first time." You clarify with a shrug, though your gaze was intense. "I've always wanted it to be with someone special, someone I like and trust. And there's no one I love more than you."
Wanda kisses you because she doesn't want to be the type to cry during sex, and she's pretty sure she would. You don't mind, she transmits the feeling through action and well, there are other things you're dying to do other than talk.
There will be time for confessions later.
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wlntrsldler · 1 month
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poisoned mercury | just friends
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a/n: boys have debrief sessions too! a lot of pining! lovers who are blind! yippeeee!
series masterlist | previous | next
vii. just friends by virginia to vegas
“yo, castellan!” 
luke was lying on your bed, head falling off the corner as he watched you scribble things down in your notebook on your desk. he’s been hanging around in your room more often. your bed was much comfier than his own, with a fluffy white blanket, silk sheets, and a million pillows that mostly end up on the floor when you go to bed. he cringes when he thinks of his usual navy, polyester sheets on his bed, and piles of scrap paper with wasted lyrics scattered around his floor. 
the pictures you took at the photobooth were now taped with the rest of the decorations on your wall. you placed it front and center, giving him the perfect view of it from where he was. the boys had asked him about the sudden change in attitude between the two of you, but he never gave many details about what happened the night the two of you disappeared. 
they cornered him once on his way to the gym, “what gives, luke? when did you and y/n get so close?” 
luke shrugged, “i don’t kiss and tell.” 
“you kissed?!” 
“well, no.” 
“dude.” 
that was that. luke wasn’t going to share anything with them, partly because he didn’t know if there was anything to share. yeah, you two were hanging out a lot more now. you were touchier with him, a hand on his arm (he tried not to flex whenever you did that but it’s like muscle memory for him to do so.), a leg on top of his own when you sat beside him, a lingering touch on his back when you said goodbye. you were also more open to him touching you, a hand around your waist while you smoked together, holding your hand underneath tables, a hand on your thigh as you engaged in conversations with the group. but he didn’t know if he was reading into things. maybe you were just like this with everyone. he’d only ever seen you with clarisse and she wasn’t a very touchy person, so that didn’t help much. and you didn’t have many other people you were close to at camp for him to base anything on. 
luke sat up on your bed, “in here!” 
travis, connor, and chris popped their heads into your room, no doubt thinking of new ways to tease luke about his crush on you. they said hello to you and motioned for luke to follow them into travis’ room. 
luke groaned, not wanting to leave you, but obliged. he got up and walked over to you, squeezing your upper arm, “i’ll be right back.” 
“m’kay,” you replied, sending him a smile. you closed your notebook as he peeked over your shoulder, “you coming to the party tonight?” 
he smiled, “wouldn’t miss it.” 
the three boys were sitting around travis’ computer when he walked in. connor motioned for him to shut the door when he arrived. oh, luke thought, this is a band intervention. this only happened once before when connor was going through a tough time and he was taking his anger out on everybody. he’d just broken up with his girlfriend because long distance got to them and it seemed like he was upset at everyone he encountered. not the best situation to be in when they were all forced to live with each other in a small tour bus and hotel rooms. 
“what’s going on?” luke asked, leaning against the door. “you guys look serious.” 
“because this is a serious issue,” connor said, playing with his key ring, “we need to show you something.” 
“well, we need you to hear something,” chris chimed in, motioning for travis to cue up something on his computer. “so this thing with y/n… is it serious?” 
luke felt like he was put on the spot. he didn’t know how to answer that question. were you serious? what were you anyway? he didn’t know how to categorize what the two of you were doing. he felt like he was stuck in a limbo with you, maybe something more than friends but not anything more than that? it didn’t make sense when he tried to rationalize it. it kept him up more nights than he’d like to admit. but he let you call the shots. he didn’t want to scare you off. 
luke’s jaw ticked, “i don’t know if we’re anything.” 
“dude,” travis groaned, “come on. you’re something. i’ve never seen you act like this since…” 
“ever,” chris finished travis’ sentence for him. he sat beside connor on travis’ bed, “i’ve known you for years, luke, and this is not something i’ve ever seen before.” 
luke sighed, “look, i know you guys said not to fuck up our relationship with mr. d and it’s really not my intention to, but i dunno, guys. she’s just so–”
“i’m gonna stop you right there before wax on and on about how great y/n is,” travis cut off. “you do realize that we’re not mad that you have feelings for her, right?” 
that caught luke by surprise. he’d been so focused on trying to figure out what the two of you were that he was kind of relieved to know where his friends stood on the situation. sure, he wasn’t the happiest knowing that his friends disapproved, but at least he didn’t have to guess about what they thought of it, but now he was more confused than ever. 
“luke, man, we just want what’s best for you,” connor said, shrugging his shoulders. “did it have to be the daughter of the man who decides if we get a contract extension and the man who dictates the trajectory of our career? no, but we can’t stop the two of you from whatever it is you’re doing. plus, we like y/n.” 
“i’m confused,” luke vocalized, walking over to the three of them, “if this is not what that’s about, what’s the point of the intervention?” 
travis beamed, twirling in his computer chair to dig up some files, “we wrote a song.” 
“you wrote a song?” 
“yeah, we just recorded it without you because you’re too busy sending y/n googly eyes,” connor snickered, “wanna hear it?” 
luke nodded, pulling up travis’ drum seat, “absolutely.” 
“before we play it,” chris prefaced, “we mean these words in the most loving way possible.” 
“is this fucking song about me?” luke asked, gobsmacked. he let out a laugh, understanding why they felt the need to call for an intervention, “you guys suck.” 
“maybe,” travis smirked, clicking on an audio file, “but the song doesn’t.” 
the song began with drums, followed by the sound of connor playing guitar. the bass came in shortly after with the three of them doing background vocals. travis seemed to take the lead on main vocals. luke felt connor tap his shoulder, sliding him a piece of paper with the lyrics to the song. 
luke couldn’t deny it– the song was good. he looked down at the page, cheeks turning red as he read the words. the paper had three distinct handwritings, showing that this song was definitely a group effort. this was co-signed by the three of them. 
“stop making up your excuses
call her up, tell her you forgot something
it's worth more than you are thinking
don't be a fool, tell her you think she's cool
stop waiting for a fairy tale to
take you away, don't wait for someday
she's thinking the same thing as you
don't be afraid, dreams aren't found they're made
'cause you've only got one chance
you've only got one chance
kiss her you fool.” 
luke put his head in his hands, laughing uncontrollably as the song continued. the three boys laughed along with him, head bopping to the instrumentals of the song. it was insanely catchy. luke knew instantly that this song would be a fan favorite. it was definitely going on their second album. 
as the song faded off, luke tossed the paper to travis, “you motherfuckers. did you write a song to try to convince me to make a move?” 
chris looked at him with a straight face, “duh.” 
“i really thought this was gonna be a whole thing,” luke smacked travis’ leg, shaking his head, “whole time you guys just wanted the dirt on me and y/n.” 
“okay, here’s the thing, luke– there is no dirt to share!” connor whined. the three of them weren’t nosy per se, but they were curious. they wanted to know what developed between you and luke. he’d never been one to shy away from talking about his romantic interests, but this time, with you, it was like luke was suddenly a square. 
they often saw you guys giggling with each other, sharing secret looks that you thought the rest of them wouldn’t notice, hands on each other at every possible moment. it was quite ridiculous, actually. luke didn’t need to have a finger hooked on your belt loop while you made cereal in the morning nor did you have to have the string of his hoodie wrapped around your finger when you were lying on him on the couch. 
they’d tried to ask him about it many times, but luke wouldn’t budge. they didn’t need to know everything, but it became clear to them that luke’s silence wasn’t because he was keeping secrets from the band, but because nothing had happened between the two of you that warranted a conversation. it was like you two were playing a sick game with each other, pushing the envelope just far enough to avoid a conversation about what you were, but subjecting everyone around you to the brutal torture of watching you fall for each other without making a move. 
okay, so they were nosy. sue them. 
“i don’t know what to tell you guys,” luke got up from his seat, rubbing his neck, “i just– i’m scared that if i make a move, it’ll fuck things up between us.” 
“believe me when i say this,” chris got up, placing his hands on luke’s shoulders, “you aren’t going to fuck anything up. trust me.” 
he cocked an eyebrow, “and you know this, how?” 
chris’ face flushed as he removed his hands from luke and stuffed them in his front pockets. he looked down at his feet, shyly, “clarisse told me.” 
luke’s eyebrows raised, eyes twinkling with fondness, “you guys are so focused on me, but we need to talk about chris and clarisse!” 
chris’ face morphed into a gigantic smile at the sound of his name next to clarisse’s. luke shoved him, motioning for him to start talking, while the stolls leaned in, locked in to listen to chris’ perspective. luke took his spot next to connor, giving chris the floor. 
chris scratched the back of his head, red creeping down his neck, “i really like her…” 
when you mentioned that there was a party happening, luke didn’t realize that it was a party just for the older campers. imagine his surprise when he walked into the woods with chris in tow to find lee fletcher with his entire dj set up blasting IDGAF by drake and bottles of liquor strewn about on a picnic table. 
“hey, you see y/n or clarisse yet?” chris asked, looking around. luke didn’t comment on how chris seemed to spray a bit more of his cologne on his clothes tonight and how he hogged their bathroom to fix his hair a million times. they were late to the gathering because of chris. luke thought it was adorable how chris got so nervous around the girls he liked. 
“nah, sorry man,” luke pat chris’ back, “don’t be so nervous. you’ll be fine.” 
chris scoffed, fixing the pearl necklace around his neck, “easy for you to say, castellan.” 
“chris,” luke stood in front of him, blocking his view of the party, “clarisse likes you too, alright? don’t stress.” 
“no, i know she does,” the boy replied, shaking his head. he peered over luke’s shoulder to look for clarisse again. “she showed me what she was wearing for tonight and i know she’s gonna look so pretty. do you think i look okay?” 
“you look good, rodriguez,” he chuckled, moving to chris’ side. the interaction brought luke back to high school, back when chris went on his first date with a girl from their chemistry class, adrianna. they’d been paired up to do a lab project together and it was the first time luke saw chris become a nervous mess. the two of them rode around on their bikes going to four different grocery stores to find the best bouquet of flowers for adrianna. in the end, they settled for an arrangement of poppies and sunflowers. adrianna loved it and they went on to date for a few months before she broke it off with him when he started to take music seriously. 
luke always thought that chris was a better man than he was. chris never harbored any ill feelings towards adrianna, stating that the rockstar’s girlfriend life was just not something she saw herself in. chris said that adrianna wanted to be a teacher and had her own dreams she wanted to follow. as much as chris liked the girl, he took the breakup pretty well. even if he was younger than luke, he was always more mature than him, emotionally anyway. 
“i think i see her,” chris said, fixing his shirt for the umpteenth time. “y/n is there too.” 
luke’s eyes quickly darted to where chris was looking. you and clarisse were sitting on another picnic table, feet resting comfortably on the benches. beside you was a red cooler with selzters and beers perched on top of ice packs. you were laughing at something clarisse said, talking to two older, male campers who didn’t hide their attempts to check the two of you out. 
luke couldn’t blame them. the two of you did look good. you were wearing jeans that hugged your curves perfectly with a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder black top. your hair was thrown behind your back, two small braids on either side of your head, and small gold hoops hanging from your ears. in the orange glow of the campfire not too far away, luke could see the hint of lip gloss on your lips. you wore your black platform converses and luke squinted to see if his little doodle on the side of the rubber was still there. 
he tilted his head in your direction to signal chris to start walking towards the both of you. as he got closer, a warmth spread inside his chest when he saw his familiar handwriting on your shoe. in silver sharpie, luke wrote ‘5 star’ with an atrocious attempt at a star on the left shoe. 
you two were in your room when he had the idea. he didn’t notice it before but you wrote little things on each of your shoes. you told him a story about a house party you went to years ago where you’d accidentally taken the wrong left shoe on your way out the door. you’d all taken off your shoes to jump into the pool and left a pile of shoes by the living room, stacked on top of each other. in the rush of things, you grabbed a pair of vans and slipped them on, only to realize when you got home that the left shoe was a different size than the right. since then, you always customized your shoes in small ways to make it easier for you to find them. 
you’d never wore your converses before so you didn’t get to do anything to them yet. luke was happy to help you continue your tradition. he also wanted to leave you a reminder of him whenever you wore the shoes. a small memento of your time with him at camp. 
“five star,” luke called as he approached you. the four of you turned your heads at the sound of his voice. the two boys paled at the sight of two members of poisoned mercury and scurried away before he and chris could even grab a beer from the cooler. 
you unseriously rolled your eyes, taking a sip from the can in your hand, as you watched the two boys you and clarisse were talking to before leave in a hurry. not good for luke’s ego, you thought, though you were glad the boys left. you were on your sixteenth (and yes, you were counting) ‘oh really?’ with the boy who only seemed to talk of himself. 
“castellan,” you raised your can to him in a greeting. 
luke moved the cooler away from you, snagging the last bud light in it, before sitting beside you. clarisse and chris got to talking, choosing to move to another area away from the noise and left the two of you alone. 
“who was that?” 
“hm?” you asked, genuinely forgetting that you were talking to someone else before he got there. you were focused on the boy beside you now. he was wearing a red flannel, bunched up around his elbows, with a white shirt underneath. his black jeans complimented the silver jewelry he always wore. he looked good. you blinked, “oh, i don’t know. james or justin, or something.” 
luke cracked open his beer, “you need to start remembering people’s names.” 
“i remember the ones that matter,” you dismissed, turning to face him. the small studs on his ears were illuminated under the dim light. “you showed up.” 
“told you i would,” luke smirked, bumping your knee with his, “you look good.” 
“thank you,” you squeaked out, looking down to play with the ring on your index finger. luke’s eyes looked down at your hand, a wave of fondness crashing over him. “you do too.” 
he grabbed your hand, running a finger over the silver metal, “is that my ring?” 
your eyes widened, “oh, yeah. sorry you left it in my room and i wore it to remind myself to give it back to you.” 
“keep it,” he said, keeping his hand on yours, “i have so many i didn’t even realize it was gone.” 
that was a lie. the barbed wire ring was in his daily rotation. he always wore it on his ring finger along with his other two rings. he even had a ring tan that matched it. he’d been looking for it everywhere for days, but decided it was a lost cause when he couldn’t find it in time for the party. luke figured he could just buy another one, but now knowing that you had it, he didn’t feel the need to anymore. it was safe with you. 
“what did the boys want earlier?” 
“oh, nothing,” luke flushed remembering the song they played for him a few hours ago. the four of them got caught up talking for hours that by the time they ran out of things to say, it was nearly time to get ready for the party. the stolls headed out earlier, too impatient to wait for chris as he flailed around trying to find the perfect outfit for clarisse, and luke stayed back to wait for him. he didn’t see you after he left your room, too preoccupied with helping his best friend. 
you narrowed your eyes, “didn’t seem like nothing.” 
“well, they wrote a song and wanted me to hear it.” luke could never hide anything from you, not like he wanted to anyway. there was nothing he wanted to keep from you, except how he felt about you. but that was more of a complicated situation. 
“i wanna hear it,” you said, excitement in your voice. 
“absolutely not,” luke scoffed, playfully. he was not ready for you to hear that song. he knew you’d connect the dots quickly. “soon, though. maybe.” 
“come on, castellan,” you droned, placing your seltzer on the table. “i wanna hear it.” 
“i told you, soon, five star. s’not ready yet.” 
“and? what if i wanna hear it unfinished?” 
“nah, you’ll get to hear it when it’s perfect,” the corners of his lips quirked up into a smile, “gotta impress you.” 
in the morning, you were going to blame the alcohol in your system, although you had been sipping on the same seltzer since you arrived. the drink tasted watered down and dull. it didn’t really have an effect on you at all, no red flush on your cheeks, no dizziness in your mind. but for now, you were going to blame it. perhaps, it was a placebo effect of some sort, encouraging you to be bolder with luke. “you always impress me, pretty boy.” 
luke was glad that the beat dropped the same time he choked on his drink, the liquid getting stuck in his throat as the pet name left your lips. he played it off, clearing his throat as he looked at you. your lips were parted slightly, the ghost of the words you said prior still lingering in the air. your voice echoed in his head. you always impress me, pretty boy. 
you were looking at him with hooded eyes, something foreign dancing in your irises. a dare, maybe, for him to succumb to you and let you hear the song he was speaking of. or maybe for him to do something else, something that crossed the line of friendship that he’d been tip-toeing around for weeks. is it too far to press his lips against yours right now? the voices of his band mates rang in his ears, begging him to finally make a move. 
your lips were inviting. the remnants of your lip gloss was smudged haphazardly on your bottom lip, sparkles of glitter catching his eye. you were closer to him now, too, thighs pressed against his own, breath fanning over his face. it drove him wild how you were looking at him, patiently waiting for him to do something. 
he decided against it. it took all his willpower not to kiss you then, but he didn’t want the moment to be tainted by the watching eyes that surrounded the two of you. he knew you didn’t like the spotlight, preferred to have your private business safely tucked away just for you, and he respected that. he wanted that too, to only have these moments for himself. what he envisioned with you was his own personal reprieve from the world. he didn’t want to share you. 
five star, the girl who had him wrapped around her delicate finger, who teased him relentlessly, who carved a permanent space in his thoughts, who took his breath away with every stolen glance and concealed touch. he shared so much of his life with the world with his music and his status. he’ll be selfish just this once. this was just for him. 
luke looked away, sipping the last few drops of his drink. your pull was magnetic. he sighed, voice hoarse, “you’re killing me, five star.” 
it amazed you how luke still didn’t realize that he had the same effect on you, though you couldn’t judge him too harshly, you supposed. for the last two months, you’d given him nothing to work with but a roll of your eyes, snide remarks, and feigned nonchalance. you built your walls up too high. from the moment you’d met him at your smoke spot, you knew it would be dangerous for you to be around him, though you didn’t show it then. 
an attractive boy who shared your vices, incessant on pushing your buttons undeterred by the fire in your soul, ready to argue back. he had his sarcastic replies that countered your defense mechanism that often left your mind scrambled when you thought about it at night. his proximity to you, living in the same cabin, giving you just enough space to leave you wanting more. you enjoyed your time with luke, much to your premature dismay. your biased perception of musicians was turned on his head the more you spent time with him. 
people always told you that you liked a challenge, always searching for something to keep you vigilant, on your toes. and luke castellan, the bastard that he was, was exactly who you needed. he always had something up his sleeve, but never something that could hurt you. you didn’t know if he was even capable of the sorts. 
it was easy to see why people were attracted to him. he was easy on the eyes, even if it took you weeks to admit it to yourself. but you pitied the people who didn’t get to know him like this– they’d never understand how it feels to know luke castellan. they’ll only get to know the luke that the tabloids wanted, and he was the furthest thing from it. he was wild and rowdy the way any teenager would be, but with his mom, his band, with you, he was something else entirely. 
you were sure that anyone who was lucky enough to know him were unlucky enough to want him because when anyone gets to know luke, there is no denying that they’ll fall for him. and you were teetering dangerously close to the edge. 
if gods existed in this world, will they make you one of the lucky ones to experience this? had you done enough good in this life to deserve this? you didn’t know and you were scared to find out, but with the way he was looking at you now, something between longing and tenderness, your patience was wearing thin.
before you could say anything, clarisse, chris, and the stolls walked over to the two of you. chris had his arm around clarisse, sending luke a wide smile. 
“we’re ditching the party to grab food by the gas station,” connor explained, “you guys wanna come?” 
you looked at luke. you loved your friends, but you didn’t want to be with them right now, not when all you wanted to do was talk to luke. he saw your pleading eyes and shook his head, turning to the group, “nah, i think we’re good here.” 
“suit yourself,” travis shrugged, beginning to walk towards the main road. the other three followed, the murmurs of their conversations fading into the night. 
luke got up from the table, dusting off his pants, “you wanna head home?” 
“yeah,” you followed his actions, taking his outstretched hand to help you off the table. “let’s go home.” 
the walk back to your cabin was filled with your usual banter, laughter that you both tried to suppress in fear of getting caught after hours, and excuses to touch each other, playful and teasing, but they lingered longer than what could be deemed as friendship. when you arrived at the cabin, you and luke stood in the living room, both unsure of what happens next. 
you paused, scruffing the bottom of your shoes on the cabin floors. you motioned to your room, “this is me.” 
he rubbed the back of his neck, every bone in his body begging him not to retire to his own room. “yeah. guess we should get some sleep.” 
“yeah, g’night,” you turned around to walk into your room. luke watched as you opened the door, only beginning to walk to his own when he saw you enter. he was so caught up in his head that he didn’t realize the door never closed. it was the sound of your voice that made him turn around. “luke?” 
he jerked his head so fast, he was sure he almost got whiplashed. luke’s voice was hushed when he spoke, “what’s up?” 
you bit your bottom lip, “do you want to come in?” 
his feet took him to you before his mouth could open to give you an answer. he was in front of you in record time, breaths uneven and palms sweaty. you placed your hands flat on his chest, feeling the racing of his heart. he closed his eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck. when he found the strength to open his eyes, he found your face close to his. his hands found their way to your hips. he cautiously let his lips graze your cheek, placing a soft kiss there. “five star.” 
“mhm?” you purred. “what is it luke?” 
the sound of your voice like that, breathless and raspy, was enough for him to press his lips against yours. luke felt like his heart was about to burst in his chest when you kissed him back.
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slaybestieslay946 · 3 months
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Everything About You - Luke Castellan
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Summary: You've been Luke Castellan's closest friend ever since he arrived at camp, but unbeknownst to you, he's been desperately crushing on you this whole time. And of course, the feelings are reciprocated. In hopes of getting over you, he agrees to give it a go with someone else. Will he realise how you feel before its too late?
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Ares!Reader
Warning: Swearing
Word Count: 4.9k
a/n: uh sorry for shitting on that demeter girl sm, there needed to be some conflict somewhere
also please forgive me for this fic being crazy self-indulgent and therefore not up to par with my usual writing, i needed to express the obsession i have w this man otherwise I'd go INSANE
MASTERLIST
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You thought you knew everything about Luke Castellan. 
After 5 years of being best friends, how could you not? You knew about the big things in his life, his damaged mother, the strained relationship with his father. You understood his anger towards the gods, the way it fuelled him to be better, work harder. 
You knew about the little things too. He liked green olives, not black ones. He always stuck his leg out from under the duvet when sleeping. He sucked at tightening his armour, always convincing you to do it for him.
You could recognise each and every one of his tells. He always cracked his knuckles before sparring. He scratched the back of his neck when he was nervous. 
But the one thing you didn’t know about him was the way he felt about you. You, who was normally so observant, was entirely oblivious to the gentle touches and soft looks he threw your way. And that, more than anything, was driving him crazy. 
“You gotta tell her how you feel man.” Chris said to him, noticing the way his gaze would constantly stray to the Ares table. Your table.
Luke scoffed, “Yeah, right. I’d rather die…” 
“Yeah, well it’s driving me nuts. All this pining. It’s-”
“Pathetic? Tell me about it.” He responded, not taking his eyes off you. 
“Well, yeah. It’s pathetic. At this point, either confess your undying love, or move on.”
Luke could safely say that neither of those options sounded particularly appealing. 
“There’s that new girl, y’know the one in Demeter?” Chris continued.
“What about her?”
“She’s pretty cute, don’t you think?” 
Luke tore his gaze away from you to look at the girl Chris was on about. She was pretty, sure, with pale blond hair and flushed cheeks. He recognised her as one of the girls that would always sit in the fields and entertain the kids with her flower magic. But still, she couldn’t hold a candle to you. 
“Yeah, she’s fine I guess.” Luke responded, noncommittal.
“See, told you so! Look, how about I set you guys up-”
“No thanks.” 
“Ugh, you're no fun. Fine, just talk to the Demeter girl at the campfire tomorrow.” 
Luke opened his mouth again to refuse, but Chris cut him off. 
“And if you do, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Promise.” 
Luke looked at his pleading face, and knew that there would be no shutting him up until he agreed. 
“Fine. I’ll talk to her.” 
*
The next morning, Luke woke up earlier than normal, so he figured he might as well get some extra training in before capture the flag in the afternoon. 
He climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his many, sleeping, half-siblings, and grabbed his sword, stepping out of the cabin into the fresh morning air. He jogged down towards the amphitheatre, and was confused for a moment when he could hear movement inside the small arena. 
Then, as he walked closer to the entrance, he realised it was you, slashing dummies left right and centre. And, gods, the sight took his breath away. 
The early morning sun shone on your face, highlighting your sharp features. You moved like a dancer, and the sword in your hand was merely an extension of your body. Yes, they called him the best swordsman in the last 300 years, but his technique couldn’t compare to the grace of the favourite daughter of Ares. 
He watched you for a few more minutes, standing just in the entrance to the amphitheatre, until he realised it might be a little creepy to stand there and watch you, so he decided to make himself known. 
“What are you doing up so early?” He called out, striding forwards towards you. 
You quickly spun around, a shocked expression on your face that softened into a fond smile when you realised it was just Luke who had snuck up on you. 
“Oh, y’know, just preparing to beat your ass later on.”
“Aw, really? Hate to break it to you, but you don’t stand a chance.” 
“Wanna test that, soldier?” You smirked, gesturing to the sword in this hand.
Luke laughed, stabbing the sword into the sandy floor and cracking his knuckles, meanwhile you took up an offensive stance. 
And, as soon as he picked up his sword, you were on him, ruthlessly slashing through the air, and he barely had enough time to block the blow before you sliced through his face. He returned your strikes with equal vigour, moving with the precision and technique that he was so famous for. 
With the way the pair of you fought, anyone would think you hated one another, trading blow for violent blow, both of you refusing to hold back. 
Of course, it was the complete opposite, but that had never stopped the pair of you from sparring so aggressively. 
The session went on for close to half an hour, neither of you wanting to surrender to the other. Eventually you were bested, as Luke sent your sword flying from your hand, holding his own up to your throat. 
You held your hands up in defeat, rolling your eyes at him, before moving to sit down at the edge of the arena. 
“I’m still gonna win in capture the flag today.” You remarked, your voice strained from physical exercise, but jovial nonetheless. 
“As talented as you are,” He responded, sitting down next to you, “You're not gonna be able to beat Annie’s new strategy.” 
“And what might that be?” You said, shuffling closer to the boy. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased. 
You pretended to sulk at that, turning your body away from him in the process. Luke frowned, pulling your arm to turn you to face him again. 
“Don’t be sad. Even if I told you you still wouldn’t win.” 
“Whatever. Asshole.” You mumbled. 
“What did you call me?” He asked, accusatory, and you quickly made your escape, running out of the amphitheatre to avoid his wrath. 
But, of course, he managed to catch up with you easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked. 
Somehow, you both telepathically communicated a need for breakfast, and your feet naturally led you both to the pavilion. 
“I’ll see you later on, yeah?” You asked, detaching yourself from him to look him in the eyes. 
“Mhm. Can’t wait to kick your ass.”
You laughed, cocking your head at him, “Why are you thinking about my ass Castellan? Bit weird.” 
And then you were striding away towards Clarisse, leaving the Hermes cabin counsellor frozen, a faint blush covering his face. 
Maybe Chris was right. His addiction to you was getting slightly out of hand. 
*
“That boy is so obsessed with you.” Clarisse muttered, her voice derisive as you sat down opposite her. 
“Who? Luke?”
“Who else?” 
“Nah, no way.” You responded, chuckling as you grabbed a slice of toast from the centre of the table. 
Clarisse rolled her eyes. How oblivious could you be?
“Whatever. As long as your little romance doesn’t get in the way this afternoon.” 
“No chance. Besides, there is no romance. Gods, you’re just as bad as Silena!” You laughed, slightly sheepishly. 
“Rude. But still, she’s right about these things like 90% of the time.”
Silena had been trying to get you to admit that you liked Luke for months, but each time she brought it up you would staunchly deny it. Of course, you were lying through your teeth, but it’s not like you could just admit something like that. It would open up a whole can of worms that you didn’t need. 
“Yeah, well this is the 10% then.” You shrugged, taking another bite of your toast.
“You’re impossible.”
“Aw, don’t be like that. You know I’m your favourite sibling.” 
“You were my favourite. I don’t know anymore.” 
“Bitch.”  
*
When Ares and Hermes were on opposing teams, suddenly capture the flag became even more serious. 
Ares, of course, was the warrior cabin. Their father was the god of war, making them the most feared in combat. And, most of Camp half-blood was scared shitless of you and Clarisse.
Then there was Hermes, and their automatic alliance with Athena. That meant they had Luke, the camp's star swordsman, and Annabeth and her siblings, who always came up with the best strategies. 
It was safe to say that when they weren’t competing against each other, it was painfully boring. 
You only had about half an hour before the game started, so after you had secured your armour and recovered your sword from the amphitheatre, you decided to seek out Annabeth, both because you enjoyed her company, and because she may spill something about her new strategy. 
“Hey, Annabeth!” You called out, and the young girl spun around to give you a little smile. 
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to see how things are going over here, y’know, scope out the competition.”
“I’m not gonna tell you our strategy.” She deadpanned. 
“Damnit. Oh well. What’ve you been up to, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” 
It was true, you hadn’t spoken to Annabeth for a few days, nor had you even seen her.
“She’s been too busy stalking the new kid.” Luke’s voice interjected and he stepped out of seemingly nowhere to pat the girl's head. 
“Shut up! No I haven’t.” She sulked, pushing him off of her. 
“Wait, which new kid is this? Percy?” You asked. 
You’d seen Luke show the boy around camp. You’d been briefly introduced, but you hadn’t spoken to him all that much. The only other thing you knew about him was that Clarisse had a bit of an issue with him. Well, she had an issue with a lot of people, so that wasn’t exactly new. 
“Yep. Can you believe it? My little sister has a crush!” Luke exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest. 
Annabeth then gave him a small shove, before something clearly occurred to her, and she gave him that look that meant she had something on him. And whatever the blackmail was, it worked as he immediately held his hands up in surrender. 
“Sorry, sorry! You could never like a boy, I know that!”
Annabeth didn’t respond, simply glaring at him whilst you laughed. Sometimes, she really was intimidating. Despite being only 12 years old, she had a stare harsher than medusa. 
“Anyway. You need to get going, otherwise you're definitely gonna lose.” Luke said, pushing you away by your breastplate. 
“Fine.” You said, and were about to walk away when you noticed his own armour, as usual, wasn't done up properly. 
You walked back towards him, sighing, and grabbed the straps on either side of his body, pulling them taut, doing the same for the guards on his forearms. 
“You seriously need to learn how to do these yourself, soldier. One day, I might not be here to do them for you.”
“That’s not true. You’ll always be with me.” He whispered, more hopeful than certain about his statement.
You just rolled your eyes, grabbing his helmet out of his hands to push it on his head. 
“There. Can’t have someone hurting your pretty face, can we?”
“Uh-”
“Bye, have fun losing!” You laughed, and then you were walking away, once again leaving a malfunctioning Luke in your wake. 
“And you say I have a crush.” Annabeth snorted. 
“Shut up.” 
*
Pretty much as soon as you made it back to your team, the conch sounded, and Clarisse shouted at you to ‘get your ass over here’. 
She then quickly outlined her plan to you as you both made your way deeper into the woods, the rest of your team splitting off at different points as you went. 
You two, as well as a few others, were to be on the offensive, searching for the flag, meanwhile the rest of your team were either guarding the flag, or serving as distractions. It was a pretty typical strategy, but it had every chance of working, as long as you two were able to work out roughly where the other team's flag was. 
“Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t be at Zeus’ fist this time, that’s where Annabeth put it last time, and apparently she has a new strategy.” 
“She could be lying to you?”
“Yeah, I guess. But it’s a place to start.” Clarisse reluctantly agreed, and the two of you moved further into the woods. 
Along the way you came across a few of the blue team on border patrol, and the pair of you quickly disarmed them, you with your sword, and Clarisse with her electric staff. 
You made your way down to the south edge of the woods, and it appeared that the number of blue troops were decreasing. Normally you would take that as meaning the flag wasn’t this way, but knowing Annabeth that could be some kind of purposeful bluff, so you kept going, until eventually you reached a dead end and had to choose a different direction. 
“Ugh, the others better be closer than us I swear. I’m not losing again.” Your sibling said, batting aside a tree branch with her crackling staff. 
“Yeah. I’m sick of having to listen to Castellan gloat.” You sighed, although the noise was more fond than anything else. 
Clarisse rolled her eyes at your inability to keep him out of a conversation. 
Then, there was a sudden noise of people crashing through the trees. You both raised your weapons, ready to defend yourselves, when you realised that they wore red helmets and were in fact, your siblings. 
“Oi, Clarisse, we heard some of them talking that they’ve got the flag down at the creek! And that brat Jackson’s guarding it!”
You noticed the way Clarisse’s eyes filled with anger (and a little bloodlust). 
“You keep going,” She said, “I’ll check it out with them.” She then patted you on the back and spun around, sprinting off into the woods. 
“DUMBASS! IT’S PROBABLY A TRAP!” You yelled, cupping your free hand to your mouth, but either she didn’t hear you, or she didn’t care, because she gave no response. 
You sighed, unable to believe how gullible your sister could be sometimes. But, you had nothing better to do than keep searching for the flag, so you kept walking, slashing through the undergrowth with your sword as you went.  
Eventually you felt like you had covered the entire forest, and at a certain point you weren’t entirely sure if you were still in enemy territory or not. 
That was until Luke Castellan burst into the clearing holding your flag. 
“Fancy seeing you here.” He smirked. 
“Asshole.” You snapped, immediately leaping at him, sword in hand, just as you had during sparring that morning. God he loved your temper. 
You then began to battle one another with even more zeal than earlier, your slashes quicker and your blows harder as you moved. It was strange the way you two sparred, it was like as soon as you were in combat you forgot that he was your closest friend and that you would die for him in a heartbeat. Instead all you could think about was winning. 
He was so annoyingly graceful as he moved, each swish of his sword perfectly calculated to hit at a certain spot, each block and parry almost perfectly executed. 
Of course, your anger at his flawless technique was only further intensified when you realised that one: he didn’t have a shield, and two: he was holding his sword in his non-dominant hand, with the flag in his dominant one. 
You ground your teeth at that. How could you expect to ever beat him if he held his own so easily? Whenever you watched Luke Castellan fight, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was a son of Hermes, and not a son of Athena or Ares.
And, as always, he defeated you eventually. 
He threw a blow at you that you couldn’t quite block, and the force of it sent you toppling backwards, and landing on your ass. He quickly lunged down too, pinning you to the floor and holding his sword to your throat, so close that it almost broke skin. 
“Do you surrender?” He asked, grinning smugly down at you, and you couldn’t help but notice just how close his face was to yours. 
“Never.” You spat, furrowing your eyebrows at him. 
He sighed fondly, before moving upwards to press a quick kiss to your forehead and saying, “You’re so cute, y’know that?” 
Now it was your turn to be left malfunctioning, your face bright red with astonishment as he leapt off of you, and ran away into the forest, leaving you behind, on the floor, and completely and utterly frozen. 
And then you came back to your senses, pushing yourself off the floor and chasing after him. 
“LUKE CASTELLAN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” You screamed, sprinting through the woods as fast as you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to catch up, and you could faintly hear him laughing as those stupid long legs carried him over into friendly territory. 
*
It appeared that a lot had happened during that game of capture the flag. 
Luke had gotten your flag, and was about to go over and taunt Clarisse about it, but he immediately saw that she was even angrier than usual, and seemed genuinely upset. 
He quickly went over to ask Annabeth what was going on, watching as you ran over to console her. 
“Percy broke her staff.” She said, pointing to the shattered piece of wood in Clarisse’s right hand. 
Luke winced. He knew how precious the girl was about that staff; it was the only token she had from her father. He was surprised Percy was even still breathing right now. 
“Wait, where is Percy?” Luke asked.
“With Chiron. He got claimed.”
“What? By who-?”
“Posiedon.”
The boy’s jaw dropped. 
“You’re joking. No fucking way.”
“Tell me about it. He could be the one, Luke.” The younger girl said, her voice quiet and hopeful. 
“Hm. He could be. Don’t get your hopes up too high though, yeah?” 
Annabeth sighed, but nodded nonetheless. 
Luke then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, before beginning to walk away, intending to get a shower in before dinner, but Annabeth quickly stopped him in his tracks. 
“Where are you going? It’s dinner, silly!” 
“What, no it’s not-” 
“Yes, it is. Campfire tonight, remember? Early dinner? C’mon, you’ve only been here for what, five years?” 
Luke groaned, and suddenly all the adrenaline from Percy being claimed, and from winning capture the flag melted away, as he remembered the deal he had made with Chris the night before. 
He traipsed behind the daughter of Athena on the way to the dining pavilion, suddenly dreading the rest of the evening. 
As the pair entered the building, a cheer went up from the Hermes and Athena table, a few of their respective siblings rushing over to give them pats on the back and congratulations for their efforts. 
Luke laughed along with them, eventually being dragged away from his sister to his own table. 
Then dinner began, and it was as loud and raucous as usual, maybe even more so coming off the back of a capture the flag victory. But Luke was unusually quiet, pushing his food around his plate and taking the odd sullen bite. He could feel Chris’ eyes on him, probably pissed off he was sulking again, but he didn’t really care. 
He could also feel another gaze on him, and he looked up, expecting it to be you, giving him a feeble glare or mouthing some stupid insult. But instead it was the girl from the Demeter table, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and smiling sweetly at him. 
The boy felt slightly disappointed, but masked it with a grin of his own, winking at the girl before returning to his food. 
He felt that strange sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued to eat, but decided to push it away. What choice did he have? It’s not like you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so maybe Chris was right and he should give someone else a chance. Besides, how bad could it be?
*
As it turned out, it could be really bad. 
Ok, maybe that was an overstatement. Really boring was probably more accurate. 
As soon as they got to the campfire, Chris disappeared, but not before practically shoving Luke down beside the girl from Demeter, who let out a high-pitched giggle as he fell into her slightly. 
And gods he wished he hadn’t agreed to his friends stupid plan. Because he then had to spend the rest of the evening being obnoxiously flirted with. And sure, she was nice, and quite pretty, but not in the way that mattered. 
She didn’t take his breath away like you did. He couldn’t imagine searching for her face in a crowd. The whole thing was just dull. 
And her laughter was grating. Really grating. There was no way she thought he was that funny, especially when he was giving mostly one word responses. 
They had nothing in common. She liked lounging about in fields, playing games and making flower crowns, whereas Luke couldn’t think of anything worse. He’d much rather spend an afternoon sparring, or at archery, or even swimming in the lake. 
All the things you liked to do. 
He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you, not whilst another girl was clamouring for his attention. It was cruel. But he couldn’t help himself. 
And eventually he gave in, switching off from the conversation and settling for observing you through the flames. 
Your hair was down right now, like it only ever was at dinners and in the early morning. You lounged back comfortably on the benches, smiling lazily and joking around with Clarisse and Silena. Your face was lit up by the flickering flames, complimenting you so well, like they just wanted to be near you, close to you. He couldn’t blame them. 
And then your eyes met his across the fire, and he thought his heart was about to combust with the way you smiled at him. He recognised that smile. It was the one you reserved just for him. 
At that moment he steeled his resolve to reject this Demeter girl, grab on to you and never let go. 
But as he was about to do just that, he felt a slender hand wrap around his bicep, and he turned to the blonde girl next to him. And without any warning, she reached up and kissed him, snaking her arms up and around his neck. 
He pulled away after a second, shock written all over his face. He quickly whipped around, looking to see if you saw that, praying that you hadn’t. 
But you had. And you seemed just as shocked as he was, except there was something else in your eyes. Hurt.
Why were you hurt?
*
As you walked away from the campfire, you couldn’t help but ask yourself the same question. Why were you so hurt?
You had known for years that your pathetic crush on Luke would never amount to anything. He was just way out of your league. Perfect in every way. 
He was so smart, and kind, and funny, and well-liked, and you just couldn’t compete with that. You were rough, and mean, and cruel, and angry. Why would he love someone like you? 
 Of course, you hadn’t seen the daughter of Demeter coming. But maybe you should’ve. She was everything Luke should want in a girl, gentle, sweet, feminine. Someone fit to be a girlfriend. 
And let's face it. You were much more skilled in matters of the sword than matters of the heart. 
You had always known this day would come. Eventually you’d have to let go of your best friend and come to terms with the fact that you weren’t the most important person in his life anymore (besides Annabeth). 
So why were you so devastated?
You reasoned that it had to be the shock. Yes, it was surprising, that’s why you were reacting like this, running away from the campfire like a child, foolishly hoping that he would come running after him, when of course he wouldn’t. He’d stay with his new girlfriend. 
“Hey!” 
You whipped around, shocked to see the very boy you were just pining after running up to you. 
“What?” You asked, snapping at him slightly, and immediately regretting it as he took on the look of a kicked puppy. 
“Why’d you run away from the campfire?” 
“Just needed some air.” 
“You sure? I mean you look kinda-”
“I’m fine! Just fine! Now you can go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone!” You burst out, waving your hands around manically. 
He looked shocked by your sudden shouting, probably because you had only genuinely been angry with him about three times in your whole friendship. 
“Sorry. Just give me a minute, ok?” You said, your voice shuddering slightly. God it was pathetic, getting so worked up over a boy? You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You then turned around and began to walk away, but didn’t get far before a hand grabbed yours pulling you back. 
“She’s not my girlfriend.” He said firmly.
“What?”
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even really know her name.” 
He then apparently realised how that sounded, because he quickly amended his statement. 
“Not like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t like her like that. She just kinda grabbed me.” 
You stammered slightly, trying to regain composure. Right now you looked like a jealous loser, and while that is what you were, you didn’t want him to see you like that. 
“Ok cool. I don’t care, y’know. Kiss whoever you want, man, not my problem!” You laughed although it was painfully strained. 
“Again, not what I’m trying to say.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. Nervous. 
“So what are you-”
“I’m trying to say I’m in love with you!” He rushed out, holding you by the shoulders and staring directly into your eyes to try and get his point across. 
“What?” You whispered, once again not able to believe your ears.
“I said I’m in love with you,” He repeated, slower this time, his voice more even, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, you have no idea. I was only talking to that girl ‘cause I thought I’d never have a chance with you. But then I realised that I don’t want some other girl. I only want you.” 
You took in a sharp intake of breath, scanning his face for any sign of insincerity. 
“You’re being serious?” You asked.
“Deadly serious.” He responded immediately, smiling sheepishly. 
You paused for a minute, before whispering, “I love you too.”
Only then did he finally make his move, holding you gently by the face and bending down to kiss you. 
And it was like a piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. It was painfully cliche, and it felt like you were in some dumb rom com, but kissing him really was like fireworks going off all over your body. 
He clearly felt the same way, holding you by the back of the head and pulling you in further, closer, like he didn’t want to be apart from him ever again. 
Eventually you both pulled away for air, and he looked at you with a smile of pure joy, until the shock of the whole situation hit him. 
“Wait, so you really mean it?”
“I mean, I did just let you kiss me, didn’t I?”
“Good point. Sorry, I’m just a little surprised.”
“Fair enough. I mean, I had no idea you felt the same way.” You laughed, all the previous tension ebbing from your body. 
“What, really?” He asked, seeming genuinely surprised. 
“Yes, really! How was I supposed to know? Besides, I didn’t think I was really your type.” 
At that his eyes practically bulged out of his head in shock, more so than any other time that night.
“Not my type? You’re entirely my type! Not like it matters anyway when you're the most perfect girl I’ve ever met in my life.” 
You frowned, “Now you're just lying to me, Luke.” 
“No I’m not. You're everything I’ve ever wanted. The only girl I’ve ever wanted.” He said firmly.
You looked at him, still slightly doubtful, but he was determined to fix that. 
So he kissed you again, and suddenly all your doubts were swept away in his strong embrace as he kissed you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. 
“Believe me now?”
“Yeah. And, I guess you’re pretty great too.” 
He looked at you teasingly, daring you to elaborate, and for once you decided to stroke his ego. 
“Fine. You're the most handsome, funny, charming man I’ve ever met in my life.” 
That clearly satisfied him, because a wide grin wriggled its way across his face that you couldn’t help but mirror, because you both knew you meant every word.
“So does this mean you’ll give me a chance?” 
“Yes. I’d give you a hundred chances.” 
547 notes · View notes
roseglazedlens · 9 months
Text
⦑ a kiss away ⦒✶.*
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pairing(s): leon kennedy x afab!reader synopsis: you and leon were supposed to be just friends. until one night, an impromptu kiss changed the trajectory of your relationship. content: smut 18+ only mdni, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, mutual pining, oral (m receiving), p in v, degration, hair pulling READ THE PREQUEL HERE « words: 2.1k┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreicated! »
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You can’t stop thinking about the kiss.
You can’t stop thinking about Leon’s calloused fingers grazing over the plump of your cheek, scorching your skin with hands so cold it reminded you of the rifles you handled during those gruelling winter missions. You can’t stop thinking about how his pupils flared, and you basked in the glazed cerulean of his irises, so clear you could see yourself through them.
Worst of it all, you can’t stop thinking about him.
You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. Leon Kennedy is your friend, your best friend. Your first meeting was five years ago on the field, clicked instantly from sharing the same corny sense of humour, and since then, your dynamic with him has been strictly platonic. You told him about all your exes, your sex life in detail, who you dated and when you had your one night stands. Hell, you even told him about your revolting bad habits that you kept secret from your exes. There was no chance this man could fall in love with someone like you, right?
…Right?
Truth is, you valued your relationship with Leon so much that you’re unwilling to risk it. You two connected beyond the small stuff, sometimes you find your conversations take a philosophical turn. You two discussed about life, family, dreams for a better world – it’s not the kind of connection you can find again.
And now you two have shared a kiss.
You were startled by the sound of your ringtone chanting through the Bluetooth speakers of your car, piercing through your train of thought. Your brain assigned autopilot, navigating you home after a laborious mission in the middle of Texas for the past two weeks. Darting your eyes at the screen, you recognised the familiar name on your contact list.
Leon. Speak of the devil.
You clicked a button on the side of your wheel. The ringing stopped, and the line connected. Immediately, you were embraced by a glee in Leon’s voice, but only ever so subtly.
“Hey. Welcome back.”
“How’d you know I’m back?” You gripped the steering wheel, a tiny concern brewed in you, worried he would catch your unusual behaviour.
“Chris told me. He’s surprised you didn’t say anything.”
A deep sigh left your throat from your core. You couldn’t exactly tell Leon that you needed time, time to catch a breath, time to process your yearn for this man. No matter how understanding he could have been.
There was no use hiding – Chris would have told him about your whereabouts if you didn’t. Chris and Leon are close friends after all.
“Can’t get a moment of peace with you two around.”
“Next time, call me. I can pick you up.” Your pulse took a leap. In another time or situation, those words would not meant anything to you. It was just how Leon was, his instincts to help others extended into his personal life too.
“So you don’t fall asleep on the wheel, stupid. Your death will not be on my conscience.”
That earned a giggle in your books. You could tell Leon’s light teasing was an attempt to comfort you, to make you laugh, to hear the snorty chuckle between your lips.
“Don’t worry. If I pass, I’ll make sure to haunt you for the rest of your life. Regardless whose fault it is.” You quipped.
“That sounds wonderful.”
Despite his sarcasm, Leon’s voice warmed at the sound of your laugh. You couldn’t help but appreciate these moments like this with him, and you prayed what you had together would never go away.
“Anyway, get some rest. I’ll bring you some food to your place at eight.”
You appreciated how he remembered that you prefer to stay home directly after a mission. After difficult missions, the presence of people could be daunting and uneasy.
Leon’s the exception.
He always brought a peace offering – a chicken sandwich from your favourite deli, a viral dessert you saw in a store once, your usual frappuccino order with ten customisations… If you want it, he got it for you.
“See you soon.” He hung up and you drove home.
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You’re thankful for internalised heating and electric blankets. They’ve became necessities for post mission self-care routine like this one. You scrubbed yourself down, cleansing the scent of blood, grease and dirt that clings deeply to your body. So when you finished, you feel rejuvenated. You napped, checked for new mail, checked for bad food in the fridge and took care of any errands you missed when you had to leave swiftly for the mission.
You waited and waited. It was almost eighty-fourty, with nothing but a brief text that penned “Running late” from Leon. You texted back, no follow-ups, no ‘seen’, no double checkmark. You wondered what was taking him so long, before the bell buzz at your door.
You opened the door, prepared to give him a lecture, just to find Leon with a familiar takeaway bag in his hands.
“No way… Is that…?”
“Yes. It’s from your favourite place.”
“Wait, the one that’s always has a long line…?”
Leon helped himself into your apartment. His hair soaked, it shimmered under the ceiling light of your apartment. He must have waited a whole hour in the rain.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you would be nice.”
You hurried to your cupboard, picked up a fresh towel and handed it to Leon for him to dry off.
“Thank you. I mean it.”
Leon nodded, a gentle grin at the corner of his lips knowing that you’re grateful of his gesture. And you genuinely did. No man, no ex, no friend you knew would do things for you to this extent. With your help, Leon removed his wet jacket and revealed his top also drenched underneath, clinging to every bump, every muscle on his torso. You swallowed deeply, slotting your eyes anywhere but his chest.
“I’ve got spare clothes in the car.”
You insisted on grabbing Leon’s clothes for him, thankful for the opportunity to take yourself away from the situation. You took the keys, and took in some fresh air. Anything to distract yourself from imagining your best friend naked on the top half. You opened the truck, retrieved his spare clothes in his gym bag and returned to your home.
When the door opened, you found Leon with his shirt already removed, revealing those sculpted muscles from the results of his vigorous training.
“Sorry. It gets uncomfortable when it’s sticky.”
You gawked, your eyes planted on the slopes of Leon’s tauted arms, pelvis line drawing a deep v into his crotch. He’s showing off. You know it. You struggled through the desire of staring knowing it will just rub his ego even further, but your eyes betrayed you. Leon observed you, a smug grin that made you hold back a punch.
“Like what you see?”
Leon strided towards you, taking his time. You had plenty of chances to walk away now, but your feet are planted to the floor, his dry clothes still in your hand. With a hand over your head, Leon closed the entrance door, and shifted close enough for you to catch his scent – the musky woodiness mixed with rain and his odour enveloped your nose – his signature cologne.
A hand reached to your waist, pulled you in his embrace.
“Do you want to see the rest?”
His breath tickled your ears as he whispered.
You forgot how attractive Leon could be. How others flock to his attention. Begged me to give them his number. With full confidence, you believed those charms didn’t work on you. Blissfully unaware that Leon chose to withdraw his charms in front of you, contrasting to the unadulterated need his body radiated right now.
Breath tightened, pulse sped, unable to keep up with your thoughts. You felt a sensation shot down your spinal cord, knees trembled slightly, a look of mischief clung to Leon’s face. Your body betrayed you, nodding incessantly.
“So honest.”
Leon feet guided you to the couch, sat you till your eyes level to the bulge in his jeans. The blond undid his first button, and your gaze followed the zipper downwards. Leon grabbed underneath his boxers, and his dick sprung free onto his abdomen. With a curled fist, Leon hovered it at the bridge of your nose and pumped it a few times in your direct line of sight.
“Wet it for me, baby.”
He teased, inching his cock closer to the pucker of your lips.
Saliva gathered at the back of your throat, your tongue desperate to feast on him. A droplet of precome leaked from his tip. You grazed your tongue on the tiny slit, circulating the drop all over your mouth until it blended in your saliva. The light hint of saltiness was there, and it was gone again.
Leon hitched a breath, his hands crawling down your head to pull your hair back loosely for easier moment. You hollowed your cheeks, and slide his girth between your lips. Light gasp turned to needy grunts, the hands groping your hair tightened, pushing you further inside.
You curled your tongue all over the head, coating it with your slick, indulging in the smell of sweat intertwined with his sex. Corner of your lips dribbled down your neck, eyes forced shut from the ache of the shape of his cock head engraved in the back of your throat. But you couldn’t get enough. You let a hand go from Leon’s thigh, and reached for your underwear instead.
“Look at you. Can’t even wait five minutes.”
Leon’s blue eyes glistened with cunningness. His hand tugged harshly at your hair, eliciting a pained groan that pulled you off his cock out with a pop. With one swift motion, Leon removed your top and pants, until you are bare in nothing but your underwear. He slid his hand underneath you, pushed your underwear aside, and felt the stickiness as a finger went inside you.
“God, you want this so much, huh?”
“S-Shut up and fuck me, Leon.”
Leon’s expression changed when you told him that. It triggered something carnal within, and shoved your back onto the couch, underwear pushed aside, cock teased your entrance. With one deep breath, Leon thrusted himself in you, ignoring your needy pleas. You shrieked in pleasure, your jaw drowned in the juncture between his neck and shoulders, nails clawing his back.
“You’re sucking me in, baby…”
Leon’s skin flushed red, his sculpted shoulders strained in delight at the impact.
Without further ado, Leon slammed into your swollen, needy cunt. Squelches and the slap of skin to skin hovered the air, and a stir developed in your body, threatened to release. Your eyes tried to brace shut, but Leon’s hand stroked your face when you did, demanding you to look at him. Until your thoughts were filled with him as you finished together. Leon followed, removed you quickly and landed the streams of come on your lower belly.
It was supposed to be a moment of euphoria, but Leon’s expression turned grim, parting from your embrace after his fingers dwelled lightly on your shoulder blades.
“You should have run when you had the chance.”
Leon sighed, regret forming at his tongue.
“You could have had a normal life, be with someone who doesn’t chase death like me. But now that I have you, it’s impossible to let you go. I can’t ignore wanting you anymore.”
You sensed years of agony and sorrow behind his cerulean eyes – you never noticed these emotions he kept so secretively in his heart. How much did he had to suffer when you told him of all your relationships in the past, and Leon supported you each and every time. No matter how terrible your exes treated you.
“That’s not the life I want.” You affirmed, two fingers brushed his lips and reached his jaw. “I don’t want an easy life, Leon. I don’t care how hard it is. I want to be by your side.”
Leon pulled you in tighter into his familiar embrace. He laid his lips against yours, and you are reminded of that intimate kiss you shared two weeks ago. The passion, minty sweetness of gum is so distinctly Leon.
It was his plea, begged you to notice how much Leon loved you. How far he will go to make you happy. It took you so long, but you could finally accept him. You returned the kiss, just as gentle, loving – a silent vow to Leon that you will make him happy as he lived.
“Come on, baby. Let’s eat. The pizza’s already cold.”
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EDIT: I wrote a prequel to this! thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose.
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eddiesghxst · 3 months
Text
PRICE OF FAME (PART 12/12)
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AHHH !! friends, we've come to the end of my first fully done series, and she's not perfect in a lot of ways but she's mine and I'm so happy and thankful to have shared it with you lovely folks
i hope I've done them justice, enjoy <3
18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader
summary: you decide to visit eddie for a chat
contains: enemies to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of anal, mentions of death (readers relative), sexual themes, angst, heavy mutual pining, fluff, and eddie being so head over heels that it's hot <3
word count: 10.6k
| previous part |
| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |
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“So, from the new album— Wasting Love.”
Over time, Eddie’s learned that he can’t stand interviews— especially interviews with questions aimed towards nothing but tabloid gossip and headlines. The first big interview that Corroded Coffin booked was exciting because— well, it was their first one! Maybe the questions weren’t as intricate and thought-out as the ones they gave David Bowie on TV, but it was something.
That excitement wore off quickly, though, and unfortunately, interviews are one of the top ways to spread publicity so— “Wasting love,” Eddie huffs, tipping his hips forward as he shifts on the couch. He’s bored out of his mind, aching to leave and be done with the shitty questions about his love life or the people he hangs around or whatever. He taps the heel of his foot into the ground, lips twisting as he chews at the inside of his cheek, “What about it, man?” Eddie asks.
The rest of the band is in the fucking clouds— why would they answer a question about a song entirely unrelated to them? Plus, Eddie’s 99.9% sure they did a few lines without him, which, fucking assholes.
The interviewer shrugs, “Well, why didn’t it make it to the final cut? And what’s it about? Tell us more about that track.”
What a bullshit fucking question. 
Wasting Love is one of the most, if not the most, straightforward songs Eddie’s ever fucking written. The only reason why he’s asking about this is because, well, there’s been rumors of Eddie and his most recent love affair— none of which are true, but Eddie doesn’t bother to come out and tell the truth because what’s the point? What’s the point in telling the truth if it will get twisted anyway?
Either way, Eddie shrugs, blinking behind his dark sunglasses, “I mean…” He purses his lips and tips his head side to side as if thinking, “Kinda self-explanatory with the lyrics, man.” He finally responds.
And in the background, Eddie can see Richie practically constructing his next ‘I know you hate it, but it’s good publicity’ lecture. So, Eddie relents— “It’s about… meaningless sex basically. And it didn’t make the cut because it was a shitty song.”
It wasn’t, actually, Eddie thinks it was a great fucking song, but the intentions behind it— not quite so.
“I think the fans would disagree on that.” The interviewer jokes.
Jeff takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat, “I mean, part of it was because it just didn’t flow with the essence of the album.” He adds, and Eddie mentally thanks him for taking over and so easily diverting the topic to something else. For the rest of the interview, Eddie’s mind is elsewhere, thinking about everything outside of this room, thinking about what he’ll eat later, thinking about the show tonight, thinking about you.
Yeah, you haven’t left his fucking mind in the past six months you’ve been apart from one another. It’s been six months, and Corroded Coffin has released two albums and started their second leg of tour since he last saw you— and you’re still all he thinks about.
You’re still in his dreams, still dancing behind his eyelids when he shuts his eyes, still vomiting all over his fucking journal when he writes. It’s madness, really. Eddie can’t remember the last time he was this hung up on someone— he wasn’t even this distraught when Chrissy left him.
Sure when he and Chrissy ended, he wallowed in it for a month or two, but it wasn’t long before he got fixed on uppers and groupies. Chrissy was heartbreaking in the sense that she was his first love, his first real relationship— but this… this is different. Eddie doesn’t know why it’s different, can’t really pinpoint where the colors change, and the memories start to jab at his chest differently, but he feels it.
He feels it when he’s sitting backstage before a show, feels it when he steps into a new hotel room every night, feels it when he’s ruffling through his suitcase and comes across that journal that’s been haunting him for ages now, and he definitely feels it when he reads the fifth page in the Rolling Stone magazine where the description of Eddie resides, the one where you’d crafted and molded Eddie into a shape he’d never been able to see before, the one where Eddie first came to terms with the true sight of you and your intentions.
Yeah, it’s fucking bullshit, Eddie thinks.
He doesn’t know how he ended up in this predicament, but by god, he would never fucking recommend it because— fuck, you won’t even talk to him!
And sure, you don’t owe Eddie anything, you don’t owe him a call or a chance to visit or anything of the sort, but Eddie was holding onto that sliver of hope you gave him before you left. 
He asks about you when he can, because, unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s quite familiar with your boss, Anna, and she’s like an annoying older sister to him. Anna tells Eddie how much of an idiot he is occasionally, but she always cracks and tells Eddie that you’ve been good and how you sometimes mention him, but it’s always quick, and nobody ever has room to pry about it. And when Anna tells Eddie about how you crossed paths backstage with a certain red-headed girl and read her to filth, Eddie chuckles and mumbles something along the lines of, “That’s my girl.”
Anna nearly gagged then. 
Still, Eddie only catches glimpses and whispers of you, never really getting the full fix to last him a day, but it’s enough to keep him alive and wanting. 
“Maybe she doesn’t get your calls, man.” Gareth shrugs, leaning into the mirror as he ruffles his hair. It’s been hours since the interview now, and showtime is in… Eddie doesn’t know when because he didn’t listen when Richie was rambling on about tonight’s schedule.
“She gets my calls, dude; Anna said she does,” Eddie grumbles.
“Okay, well, then maybe she’s just, like, over it. I don’t blame her; you're a pain in the ass.”
Eddie kicks his boot into Gareth’s shin, and the boy hisses, tossing a red Rillos wrapper at him. “Ow, asshole. It’s not my fault she hates your music.” He snips. Eddie makes a face, “It’s your music too, dumbass.” 
Gareth scoffs, “Yeah, but you wrote an entire fucking album about her. Our album is literally about her, you know that, right?” And Eddie thinks he should just kick Gareth’s teeth in at this point, maybe that’ll get him to shut up. “How would you know it’s about her if I never told you it was?” Eddie prods.
Gareth rolls his eyes, dark eyeliner casting a shadow on his face as he turns to glare at his friend. “Is there another chick you’ve been fucking that’s got you by the balls that we seem to have forgotten about?” Gareth sarcastically asks. Eddie glares at him, reaching for the cigarettes on the vanity table and sparking up.
He speaks around a cloud of smoke when he answers, “No.”
Gareth makes a face, eyebrows raising in an ‘I rest my case' manner. “And she’s not a chick,” Eddie adds.
Gareth hums with a tight grin, reaching out to poke at his friend's face, causing Eddie to grimace and bat him away, “You’re in love, Munson. Fix it or get over it,” He says shortly before making his way toward the door. Eddie can hear the dull scream of fans when Gareth opens the door, and Eddie thinks about the tickets he’s sent you every show— prays to whatever false god there is that you decided tonight is the night before he decides hope is useless and you’ve gotten over him. Gareth cuts through Eddie’s thoughts, “Come on, I can hear Richie’s bitching from here.”
Eddie’s mind is never in the game until he steps onto the stage, with bright lights blinding him, screaming fans, and his adrenaline at an all-time high. He comes back to earth then, comes back, and does the fuck out of his job— because this is the best part. The best fucking part, and it’s always been that way.
And it gets better when Eddie scans the crowd, coming down from the first song of the night and finally taking a look at his audience, and there he sees it— he sees you. There you are under flashing lights, drowning in a sea of people with that glint in your eyes. 
Eddie thinks he’s imagining it because, fuck, he’s been dreaming of this for weeks on end; surely his delusion can reach the heights of hallucinations, right? But no, you’re real.
You’re so fucking real. So fucking insanely real beneath Eddie’s fingertips when he reaches out, ignoring the screams and clawing of fans as his fingers loop around your wrists and he says your name.
God, you’re really fucking here.
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Eddie looks prettier than you remember when you first see him— curly mane draped over his shoulders and dark tattoos glistening on a bare torso, white lights framing him like he’s some kind of fucking archangel.
He’s gotten thicker in the few months, beefier around his arms and chest, and the long chains and pendants he wears from his neck rest down the valley of his torso, smeared in sweat and sin. You want to drag your tongue across his chest, taste the salt and his cologne, tug the silver cross between your lips, and suck and make him whimper.
His eyeliner is smudged and dark, and his smile when he gets a moment to take in the crowd makes your chest ache. He’s so pretty it hurts. He’s a dream and a nightmare all at once.
You missed him. God, you missed him so much.
His smile falters when he sees you, and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but his eyebrows pinch like he’s in pain, and you only want to wrap yourself around him and breathe in that scent that’s been haunting for nights on end.
He’s insane for jumping down to the barricade, like, completely-lost-his-fucking-mind, down-in-the-gutter, insane. But you can’t find it in you to protest when he steps up to the fence, reaching out and looping his warm finger around your wrist. “What the fuck?”
Your lips twitch into a smile at his words, but the crowd is getting rowdy with their beloved rockstar so up close and an elbow is being shoved into your side and Eddie moves quicker than you can comprehend, tugging you forward to the very front and motioning you to jump over.
“You’re insane!” You yell over the noise of the crowd. Eddie grins, damp curls dangling over his eyes as he peers down at you, “Unless if you wanna get crushed, be my guest.”
It’s slightly difficult, and there are a lot of gangly limbs and yearning hands reaching out everywhere, but Eddie eventually gets you over the barricade, and you’re gazing up at him with a warm grin when you sway on your feet. You wish you and Eddie could just walk away and have each other like you’ve been imagining for months, but Eddie has a job, and he’s working.
His eyes are blown wide, and his lips are so kissable, and his warm hand is squeezing your hip as he nods toward a security guard. “Keep an eye on this one, Rob,” He shouts over the screaming fans. You’re eyeing Eddie as he steps back toward the stage, sinking his in-ear back into place with a sly grin as he winks, “She’s real sneaky.”
The show is great, as it always is, and Eddie tries to be deft about it, but it’s evident to just about everyone how he practically clings to the side of the stage where you’re standing in front of. It’s cute, you’ll admit, but you feel bad for the fans, so you try to move around a bit.
The last song comes, and the show ends with Eddie and Jeff practically climbing over one another as they shred their guitars and the crowd goes insane when Eddie leans forward to drag his tongue up the side of Jeff’s face, grinning when the other boy rolls his eyes and walks off.
You’re being pulled backstage quicker than you know it, just in time to meet the group as they jog off the smokey stage with big grins on their faces.
Jeff is smothering Naomi in a sweaty hug and smattering kisses all over her face, and you’re glad to see they’re still together. Gareth is twirling his drumstick between his fingers and scanning the room for someone, but you don’t have time to try and figure out who because the one person you’ve been waiting for steps out next, and he’s got the biggest grin on his face as he practically jogs up to you.
You’re smiling and giggling out a greeting as he steps up to you and grasps your face between his hands, “No kisses!” You warn before he can lean in, and Eddie’s too excited to even pout about it. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?”
You reach up to slink your fingers around his wrists as his thumbs caress the soft skin beneath your eyes, “Got enough life left in you to talk?” You ask. Eddie’s eyes dance across your face, taking you in like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to before he nods. “Always.”
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The dressing room seems to be the altar of truth for you and Eddie.
It’s dawning on you that most of the pivotal moments between you and Eddie have been in a dressing room, so it’s not irrational for you to feel a bit uneasy when you step in, and Eddie closes the door.
He’s like a kid in a candy store, trying not to touch what he sees. His eyes are so bright, but you can tell he’s holding himself back from doing and saying the things he wants, and you appreciate that he’s giving you the space, waiting for you to give him your yes or no.
Eddie plops onto the couch in the middle of the room and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. You deeply breathe, shifting in your spot before leaning back against the door, tipping your head as you study him; thighs comfortably spread, inked stories fluttering to life with each rise and fall of his bare torso. He’s a dream.
“I thought you’d be way more upset.”
Eddie’s lips tug like he wants to smile at the sound of your voice, or maybe it’s the sight of you, and he shifts in his seat with a shrug, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips, and when you see him pat himself down, you’re already moving like it’s muscle memory.
You pick up the lighter on the coffee table and walk over to Eddie, sparking the flame as you speak, “You’re allowed to be upset, you know?” You remind him. Eddie’s gaze flickers in color as he looks up at you, and you try to ignore the goosebumps that rise up on your skin when his hand reaches up to rest on your hip, thumb caressing you over the material of your skintight dress. Streams of fire are licking up your spine as he leans forward to burn the end of the paper stick, and your center aches when he gently squeezes the fat of your hip. All throughout this, Eddie never lets his eyes fall from you.
He mumbles a short thank you once the cigarette lights, leaning back to rest against the seat as he looks up at you. You fight the urge to comb your fingers through his hair or do something dumb like climb into his lap. No doubt talking would fly out the window then.
You gently toss the lighter onto the coffee table and sit on the loveseat across from the pinnacle of your thoughts from the last six months. Eddie speaks around a cloud of smoke, “Do you want me to be upset?” He asks.
You shrug, trying your hardest not to break beneath his unwavering eye. “I don’t know.” 
Eddie smiles then, and the strings of your heart play a symphony to the notes of his voice when he speaks, “I was for a little bit,” He admits, tapping ash onto the carpet, “But then Wayne told me to get my head out of my ass.”
You huff out a laugh at that, and Eddie grins. “How is he?” You ask. Eddie tips his head back and forth like he’s thinking, “Same old man as before. Think he’s got a girlfriend now. He’s being an asshole about the details, though.” He rolls his eyes, and you snort. You’re happy to hear Wayne has a person for himself now; if anyone deserves it, it’s him.
You shift, like you can’t seem to get comfortable enough, and you know you’re stalling, and you can see Eddie fighting to not call you out, so you try to ease into it; “Is that when you stopped calling?” You ask.
Eddie stiffens under the question, and you know the answer. He grimaces and runs a hand over his face with a soft groan, “Fuck,” he curses, “Fuck, yeah, it was.” He answers. “I’m sorry, I’m a fuckin’ hothead. I had made it a goal to call every night and then—” “I upset you.”
Eddie’s eyes are soft, and you have to force yourself to keep your eyes on his, “It wasn’t fair what I did, Eddie; I’m sorry—”
Eddie shakes his head, briefly shutting his eyes as he waves you off, “Nah, fuck that. You don’t need to apologize—” “But I do. I told you I wanted space, and then a week later, I’m plastered on a fucking cover with Baine fucking Carter.” 
Baine Carter is a well-known songwriter within the industry. He’s got tracks spread all over the top charts, and he has a way of talking that can make just about anyone fall into a trance until you realize most of what he’s saying is just made-up bullshit. In hindsight, Baine wasn’t much different than most people in the music industry— it was a moment of weakness and pure vodka-weighted thinking. And, of course, it’s the moment when cameras find you.
“Kinda my fault too,” Eddie shrugs, “Camera’s wouldn’t have found you if I didn’t have press riding me.” And he’s right, but shitty press isn’t his fault, so how much of that can you really blame him for?
Eddie snickers at the memory of you painted on the cover of several magazines, “Think you’ve got a type, sweetheart.” He teases. Your face screws up in defense, and you scoff, “What does that mean?”
Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Come on, you’re gonna tell me you didn’t say my name when he—” “We didn’t do anything— firstly— and even if I did say your name, I would never in a million years admit it.” You point out with a raised eyebrow. 
Eddie smirks with a playful glint in his eye and he deeply breathes as he ashes his cigarette and rises to his feet. “I don’t care that you hooked up with Bain fucking Carter,” Eddie softly admits with a hint of a mocking grin, “Did it deeply wound me to the point where I almost thought I was gonna die? Yes.” He jokingly says, to which you want to roll your eyes at, but he’s stalking over to you like he’s some lion on the prowl, and all you can muster is a small huff with a mumbled, “You’re dramatic.”
Eddie stands in front of you and leans over to press his palms onto each side of your seat, leaning down until his face hovers above yours, “I’m kinda known for it, darling.” He winks.
Your core stirs at the proximity, and you can feel his breath against your top lip. “I will admit, though,” Eddie lets his hand drop to round over your bare knee, callused fingertips caressing your soft skin, “It gave me a huge ego boost seeing you with a literal replica of me.” He snickers, fingers dancing into the inside of your thigh. You huff, a playful glint in your eyes as you run your tongue across your teeth, “Yeah, I imagine your head couldn’t fit through the door for at least a month, huh?”
Eddie shrugs, “Depends. Which head we talking about, honey?”
You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes when he gently squeezes at the warm skin of your thigh. You tip your head lower, holding your gaze on Eddie as you lowly speak, “I’m not having sex with you tonight, Eddie.”
Brown eyes flash with a familiar look you’d missed before they drop to your lips. “What about a kiss? Just one.” He presses. Your eyes narrow, “I doubt you could ever do just one.” 
“You’ll never know if you never try.” His lips twitch up into a sly grin, taunting you and pushing you until your brain is just a muddled mess of yes, no, yes, no, yes, n— fuck it.
It’s like a sigh of relief to have Eddie’s lips on yours after such a long time. Weeks of nights and days spent trying to remember how it felt having his plump lips pressed onto yours, how he tasted, how warm his tongue was when it slunk into your mouth. None of those times you’d try to remember, none of those phantom feelings that would breeze through your body could ever amount to how it actually feels— it’s as if you’re seeing color for the first time.
It’s a fucking kiss, that’s for sure.
It’s long, and it takes you both a second to relearn the kinks and maneuvers you both favor, but then it’s as if time never passed between your bodies— you’re moving like one unit, like every second of your lives has built up to this moment.
Unfortunately, air is a necessity to living, so you’re pulling away sooner than you’d wanted to. Eddie’s other hand is digging into the cushion beneath you, and you can practically hear his thoughts spinning as he wills himself to pull back. You shiver as his fingers squeeze your thigh one last time before slipping away. 
“How's that for a kiss?”
Brown eyes with pools of liquid gold, you missed the searing pain it gave you each time you reached out and touched. You purse your lips, tasting him on your tongue as you tip your head in thought— menthol and whiskey. “Care to answer a few questions? Pick up on our game?”
Eddie huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your nose as he snickers with a glint in his eyes. He studies you for a moment, like you might pull out and say never mind, but you only raise an eyebrow as you await an answer. “Your place or mine, honey?” He drawls.
You preen at the open door he’s lent you, “It’s your city, isn’t it?”
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You don’t take the same car with Eddie to his place.
It’s not that you didn’t want to take the same car, but something about that look in Eddie’s eyes said that he absolutely wouldn’t be behaving on that car ride, and you immediately suggested separate vehicles. You’re unsure if you trust yourself to hold your promise in a confined space with Eddie… or maybe you don’t trust him… or— yeah, it’s both of you. Eddie wasn’t ecstatic about it, but you don’t care because you swear to god you aren’t going to fuck Eddie before you talk— like, really talk.
There are things that you both need to say, uncover, and express feelings about, and god forbid you get dicknotized before the words can come out correctly.
Eddie’s home is everything you thought it would be: chaotic in taste, lively, musical, whimsical, and all things that scream Eddie. The entryway is open and vast, with a clear view into the living room, where you can see a sunken living room build with guitars and papers strewn about. 
Eddie’s ushering you further into his home before you can look deeper into the entrance, but you don’t mind because his living area is like an artist's wet dream. There are comfy couches, red, cream, and colors alike, and there’s a rug in the middle that looks like a psychedelic trip of dark colors, and along one of the walls is a long shelf of endless records.
“I moved in like a year ago, so it’s not perfect, but… this is me,” Eddie says. You hadn’t been paying attention, but now that he walks into your line of vision, you can see his shoes are off, and his loose blouse is fully open. He looks like a fantasy; lean body dripped in expensive clothes and clinking jewelry, shoulders broad and sculpted beneath his wavy hair. Fuck.
You slip your shoes off and let your feet sink into his home's fluffy, deep red carpet, never once dropping your gaze from him as you walk over to the couch. “It’s beautiful, Eddie. It’s very you.”
You sink into his couch, turning so you can face him with your arms crossed over the back of the sofa as you watch him pick a record and set it up. Through the surround system of his home, the familiar riff to Tommy Bolin’s Shake The Devil rings. You watch Eddie sink a hand into his hair, shaking out his messy curls before pausing. The guitar is loud and you’re leaning forward when he snaps his head to dramatically look over his shoulder. You stifle a laugh, intrigued to see where he’s going with this— and you hate to admit that you begin enjoying the show when he turns around, fingers crafted and messily playing an air guitar to the track.
His stomach and chest flex with each of his moves, the buckle and button to his jeans open to flash you a dangerously low view of his happy trail leading to sinful places. He’s walking sex; head tilted back as he shreds the imaginary guitar, hips moving with the song as he walks toward you. He sinks to his knees in front of you, and with his living room being sunken and him still being on the higher level, you’re just in line with the view of his spread legs, crotch on full display. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gazes at you, switching to air drums before the words kick in. You can’t hide the smile that graces your lips as he dramatically sings along, leaning forward until his face is just inches in front of yours, ringed fingers reaching to cup your face. Standing face to face with the devil, huh?
Your hands have a mind of their own apparently because they reach out and coast up Eddie’s jean-clad thighs, nails scratching up against the material until your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans. You lean forward on your knees, sharing a breath with the pretty boy, and you smile. Eddie groans low in his throat, the breakdown of the song blasting in both your ears and your heart racing. His teeth dig into his lips like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, and you softly laugh. “Laughin’ at my misery?” He asks.
You shrug, “Maybe. You look fuckin’ hot.”
Eddie groans again, eyes rolling back into his head before he dives forward, nuzzling his face into your neck and faking a bite as you squeal. “Can’t say shit like that to me, princess. Wanna fuck the shit out of you.” His teeth drag against your pulse, and you squirm with a louder squeal, causing him to tumble forward, collapsing onto the couch with you, and your limbs mix like one big painting as he dramatically grunts on impact. He shifts until he’s laid on his back, head resting in your lap as he peers up at you.
“You staying the night?” He asks.
You snort, brushing a strand of hair from his face, “Didn’t I tell you we’re not having sex?” You remind him. Eddie huffs and digs his head into your lap as he shuffles in his spot, “Did I ask for sex just now?” He challenges. You raise an unconvinced eyebrow, “So, you want me to spend the night just to spend the night?”
Eddie’s eyes gleam as he looks up at you, “It’s been my dream.”
You roll your eyes, playfully shoving him off you with a huff, “Get me a drink, and I’ll think about it?”
Eddie hops up as if second nature, padding over to the stereo and turning it down just enough to hear you as he talks over his shoulder, “Sure thing, honey; what would you like?”
Honey, honey, honey.
You want to drown in it.
You’re not listening as Eddie lists off the drinks he has, busy swirling in sticky, sweet, golden lakes and admiring the shift of Eddie’s hips and ass beneath his jeans. “Surprise me.” You respond.
“Copy that, madam.”
He doesn’t go far because there’s a built-in bar on the other side of the room, so you have the perfect view of him working his magic, mixing liquor and dropping ice cubes into a crystal glass. When he finishes making your drink, he turns and walks over to you with this glint in his eyes, and you feel your body heat under his gaze. “This one's on the house,” He says with a wink, handing you the drink. You thank him, taking the glass as he sits back onto the couch, sinking into the plush cushions and watching you gently sip before pulling a sour face.
He laughs, “Too strong?” He asks. You grimace with a shake of your head, smacking your lips, “No, no, it’s good. Thank you.”
Your legs are kicked up on the couch, and Eddie finds his fingers slinking around your bare ankle, gently squeezing, “Want something comfy?” He asks.
God, he’s relentless.
You laugh, “You really want me to stay,” You tease. Eddie sinks like he’s letting all inhibitions go as he answers, “Desperately.”
He can tell you’re cracking, and you have to hide your grin behind the glass as you shake your head in disbelief at yourself, “Fine. Go, before I change my mind.”
And Eddie’s sprinting up, holding his jeans up from falling as he jogs up the stairs with a happy cheer.
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A half-hour passes, and you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s comfy living room floor, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt of his because, in Eddie’s words, ‘there’s no need for pants in a home setting, sweetheart.’ You think he just wants easy access and an eyeful of your bare legs.
Eddie’s licking up the crease of a blunt and your body is warm with whiskey and the shrill of a jazzy melody from the radio. He’s so pretty, leaned over the glass coffee table, bare shoulders flexing, curly hair draping as a curtain as he works. He clicks his tongue when he’s done, and you raise an eyebrow, pressing your bare toes into his thigh when he scoots closer. “Up for a smoke?” He asks.
You don’t smoke much, not that you don’t enjoy a nice high, but you find yourself more appreciative of your highs when they’re spaced out and random. You nod, and Eddie grins, “Atta girl. Here, honorary first hit,” He passes the blunt to you, and you snicker, grasping it between two fingers and holding it up to your lips. Eddie helps you with a lighter, leaning forward to burn the end of the paper, and you take one good drag before pulling the bunt away, rolling the smoke into your lungs to settle as best as you can handle before you sputter out in a small coughing fit.
Your eyes water, and Eddie grins as you pass it to him, leaning forward to kiss your temple, “That was good, baby.”
You watch as he takes a hit of his own, huffing out a few coughs of his own, and jesus christ, why do rockstars always smoke devious shit? It’s strong, whatever Eddie has you smoking, and it only takes you three hits before you already feel a buzz coming, and Eddie looks so pretty with low eyes and rosy cheeks.
“Ready to play our game?” He rasps out.
“Mm.” You agree, reaching out to take another hit.
“Did you listen to the albums?”
I can't destroy what isn't there
Deliver me into my fate
If I'm alone I cannot hate
I don't deserve to have you
Oh my smile was taken long ago
If I can change I hope I never know
God, did you listen to the albums? Sure, you have it ingrained into your fucking mind, and it burns.
You smile, slowly blinking because, of course, that’s Eddie’s first question. You breathe out clouds of fairy dust as you speak, “Yes, I did. Did you read the magazine?” You ask.
Eddie nods, leaning back against the couch, extending his legs out as he eyes you, “I did. Which song did you like best?”
“Mm, the one with the drums.” You smile.
Eddie laughs, and you pass the blunt back to him before leaning back on the opposite couch, toes almost touching when you extend your legs across the carpet. “You’re a kiss-up, you know that?” He gestures to you, to which you only shrug.
Eddie crawls across the living room, and you fight the urge to reach out and thread your fingers through his hair as he plops himself right next to you, leaning against the couch as well. Your thighs are touching, and you can feel the warmth of him, and the smell of weed is wafting through the air, and you just want to nuzzle into Eddie’s chest and never leave.
“Miss me?” You teasingly ask. You can hear the slight smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds, “Negative. You?”
You snort, “Negative.”
You shuffle to lean against Eddie, and he can’t seem to help it when he reaches out to push your hair back gently. “What do you wanna be when you grow up?” You ask.
Eddie’s eyebrows pinch in confusion, no doubt lost by what you mean, considering he already has his lifetime job figured out, “What do you mean?”
You sigh, wriggling as you fight the urge to wrap your body around him, “I mean,” You shrug, “Well, you’re not gonna do this forever, right? Like, at some point, you’re going to have to throw in the towel, age, and whatnot,” You dismissively wave, “What will you do then?”
Eddie pauses and thinks for a moment, and if you couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin on yours, you would think he vanished into thin air. “I, uh…. Well, you’ll think it’s stupid.” He mumbles.
You frown, turning your head to look at him, “I won’t. Tell me. Please?”
He looks at you with these soft, fond eyes before nodding, “I wanna start a music school in Hawkins— maybe, like, a creative arts school, you know, something for the weirdos. Not just music geeks.” He admits. His tone is so soft, maybe the softest you’ve ever heard, and he’s fiddling with his rings like he’s nervous, and it’s the cutest sight you’ve ever seen.
“It’s not really celebrated there. Creativity, I mean.” He adds.
You stay quiet, allowing him to speak, “Everybody just lives to work dead-end jobs. Being creative is like… a sin or something, I don’t know. I just want to give the kids somewhere where they’ll feel… safe. Seen. Something I never got for myself.”
It’s… it’s fucking brilliant. It’s so brilliant it makes your chest ache, and you decide that you would do just about anything to make sure Eddie’s dreams of a music school come true.
“I told you it’s stupid. No one ever thinks it’s good.” He mumbles after a moment with your silence. You frown and shake your head, sitting up straight to look at him. “No. No, Eddie, it’s amazing…It’s fucking amazing, and you should do it. You have to do it.”
“You’re just playing nice.”
“No, seriously. Fuck whoever said it wasn’t a good idea, it’s brilliant.” You press on, and you want to lean in and pepper kisses all over his face because— seriously, who the fuck told him it was a shitty idea?
“I grew up in a small town too, and— shit, it was not fun wanting to be something other than a nurse or a teacher. Got a lot of shit trying to ‘reach for the stars’,” You huff out a laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so gentle as they gaze at you that you almost melt. “I would’ve appreciated something like that. Munson’s School of Arts.”
Eddie snorts at that, pink lacing with yours as a smile spreads across your lips, “Not bad actually, I might name it that.”
It’s a back and forth of that for a while, silly questions amongst genuine ones until you find yourselves sat next to each other, arms pressed together, bodies yearning to wrap around each other as you fiddle with the strings of Eddie’s carpet. And there’s something, you know. Eddie feels something that he’s not telling you, and it’s killing you because it’s what you need to hear before you take the plunge. “Are you angry with me?” You softly ask.
Eddie’s quiet for a moment, and the blunt was snuffed out a while ago, so he’s not taking a drag but instead just stalling. “I mean,” he pauses, “I already told you, Birdie. What’s the point in going back on it?”
You frown, glancing at him, “Because I want you to tell me how you feel, Eddie.” You respond.
Eddie’s silent again for a longer moment, and you want to whine when he shifts away to sit in front of you. He folds his legs up, resting his elbows over his knees as he sits face to face with you, “Do you want me to be angry with you?” He steadily asks.
Your blink, “I— no?” 
Eddie raises an eyebrow, and you huff, “Honestly, a little bit, yes. It’s okay to be angry with me, Eddie; that’s what I’m trying to say.”
Eddie’s demeanor is unwavering as he blinks at you, but his tone is accusing, “Do you want me to be angry with you so you can feel justified?”
And, ouch.
That’s not the truth at all. Or maybe it’s some truth, but in your true feelings, that’s not what you mean. It’s only a fleeting thought because you’re human, after all, right?
“That’s not fair,” You frown with a small shake of your head. Eddie raises another eyebrow, and you tilt your head, “I’m only trying to be as transparent as possible, Eddie. That was the main issue.” You remind him.
Eddie turns to the coffee table, grabs your forgotten glass of Jack Daniels, and takes a swig for himself. “You wouldn’t tell me how you felt, and I was always left in the dark.” You say.
“And I’m telling you right now that I’m not angry.” He’s teetering on the edge of irritated now, and you tilt your head. “I listened to the album, Eddie. I listened to the song; you’re seriously gonna tell me you’re not angry?” 
Eddie can only glance at you then, and your frown deepens. “That’s… different.”
“How, Eddie? It’s about me—” “Yeah, because you fucking walked out on me on closing night,” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to feel?”
Your chest tightens as you look into the eyes of your dreams, lyrics swirling in your mind because you’ve fucking memorized every word. You listened to it until you felt sick, dizzy with a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs.
You sold me out to save yourself
And I won't listen to your shame
You ran away, you're all the same
Angels lie to keep control
Your chest aches when the lyrics echo in your mind.
“I just want you to be honest with me. If I made you feel that way—” “No, that’s not—” Eddie shakes his head, pinches the bridge of his nose, and cringes like it's painful. “That’s not it at all— fuck.” He puts the glass down and scoots back over to you; knees pressed into the fluffy carpet beside your thighs as he leans in and cups your face, eyes darting over your pretty features. “I was angry, and I was a shithead, and I had people talking in my ear and— shit. Please don’t think you ever blame yourself for that, please.”
Your fingers are cold, but Eddie’s wrists are warm beneath your fingertips as you frown up at him, “Just tell me how far out you are, Eds.”
Eddie looks at you with soft eyes, a callused thumb running under the delicate skin beneath your eye. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your forehead, and you preen, nuzzling forward and sinking into his warmth and scent that you’ve missed for so long.
“Not far,” He responds, lips brushing over your skin. “You?”
You hum, body reeling as Eddie slinks his arms around you, “Not far.”
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Forty minutes and another blunt later, and Eddie’s floating in the fucking sky.
Eddie can’t believe it really, having you in front of him, next to him, limbs pressed to limbs with your laugh ringing in his ears— Eddie thinks this is some sick, realistic dream.
It’s tender, the space you’ve both created. You’re both fragile and reactive in the best way, like a healing exposed nerve, and Eddie will be forever in your debt for how patient you are with him. He’s not good at talking about real shit, but he’s trying to fix that, and you make it easier because you push him in the way he needs to be— you encourage him to say what he feels even if he’s afraid he might end up shooting himself in the foot and chasing you away again because— ‘It’s the only way things will get better.’
But you’ve always been patient. You were patient six months ago, and you’re patient now. You know exactly what you want, and you’re firm in what you say and feel, and it makes Eddie feel safe.
He’s never had this kind of thing— he’s never had a relationship where someone talks and leaves room for him to speak as well— two-way communication or whatever the fuck Robin says. It’s different, and it’s good, and Eddie thinks he must have shit taste if it’s taken him this long to realize it.
Chrissy never really cared for what Eddie wanted or preferred, or how something she did would make him feel. Eddie, at the time, didn’t think much of it and was more than happy to ride along with her ‘low maintenance’ nature, but it only cut him off from growth more than anything.
Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore because Chrissy is in the past, and you— you’re so pretty standing on Eddie’s couch in just his shirt with a blunt hanging between your fingers. You’ve just returned from changing the record— Surrealistic Pillow; Eddie knew the second you dropped the needle and watched you spin around with a shit-eating grin. 
“Hippie shit,” Eddie mutters as you hop down from his couch. Your eyes narrow, “Hey,” you nudge your foot against his thigh, “Don’t be an asshole. It was on your shelf anyway.”
Eddie slinks his hand around your calf, blinking up at you as you stand over him. You reach down, the burning blunt standing between your fingers, and Eddie happily parts his lips to let you slip the tip in. Burning sativa licks up the sides of Eddie’s brain, and he melts when your other hand sinks into his hair, gently pressing his bangs back as his eyes flutter. You hum, and Eddie’s lips tip into a smile as the smoke churns in his chest. Your knuckles curl into his roots, and Eddie could fucking cum right now, no questions asked.
He’s harder than a rock, and he’s not ashamed when he sinks his hand down the open fly on his jeans to palm himself, lowly groaning as he tips his head up, playfully blowing clouds of smoke up your shirt and grinning when you squeal. He chuckles, hand slinking further up your leg to grip the fat of your thigh as he tilts his head to nip his teeth at the inside of your knee.
He turns to let his chin rest on your thigh, blinking up at you with hazy eyes, “Let me in, baby.” He pleads.
You sink to your knees until you’re face to face, and Eddie’s hands glide under your shirt, warm and itching to explore as he feels the flutter of your lungs beneath his fingertips. “No funny business, Munson.” You remind him, swatting him away when his fingers prod at the cup of your bra. Eddie grins, brain fuzzy and warm, and he can’t stop himself from leaning forward and planting a quick kiss against your lips.
“I have something for you.” He says. Your eyebrows raise, and Eddie smiles, standing up with a grunt and shaking out his stiff limbs. “Don’t move,” He points to you before padding off.
The gift Eddie has for you has been with him since the fourth week he knew you. He’s been holding onto it for so long because he’s been a coward and didn’t know how to form the words ‘I’m sorry’ with his tongue— but now, Eddie’s riding on a high, and he needs you and wants you all the time and there’s no better time than now, right?
He’s holding the gift behind his back when he steps into the living room, and he smiles at the sight of you laid out on his floor, eyes closed as you sink into the music. You’re on cloud nine, Eddie can tell.
He drops to his knees over you, pressing his free hand into the floor beside your head, and his hair creates a curtain over you when you look up at him. “You look… tempting, to say the least.”
Your eyes playfully narrow at Eddie, and you squirm beneath him, “What’re you hiding behind your back?”
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There are tears in your eyes as you blink down at the gift in your hands, and you know Eddie must think you’re insane for crying over a book— a journal at that. It’s a pale yellow colored leather, with two leather straps that are tied into a neat bow, and in the corner, your name is stamped in tiny cursive gold letters— your real name. 
It’s a replica of your old journal, the one that had gotten ruined when you tore the pages out to prove a point. But you don’t understand— “How did you get this?” You ask in a soft voice.
Eddie grins, reaching out to thumb at your bottom lip, eyes soft as he watches your eyes dance over the journal. “Called in a favor from Michigan.” He jokingly says. Your chest aches, and you frown when you look up at him, fingers tight around the binding of your gift, “You talked to him?”
Eddie snickers, “Yeah. Got a lot of shit from him first, I’ll tell you that,” He pauses and scratches at the back of his neck, “He told me he hates my music.”
You laugh at that, body warm with adoration because, yeah, that sounds like your grandfather. You sniffle, wiping under your eyes, “How did you know?” You ask.
Eddie shrugs as he sits next to you, “The cover of your journal had his name on it, so I kind of pieced it together since you share a last name.”
You don’t know what to think, what to say. It’s the kindest thing Eddie (or anyone) has ever done for you. Your grandfather had been in the business of handmaking journals for as long as you can remember; he was part of the reason why you took such a liking to journalism. He had a brief history in journalism himself, and he would sit and go through his best works with you when you struggled to fall asleep— he helped you see the world through the lens of an artist, and you never looked back.
You’re elated as you run your hands over the pages, imagining what the phone call between Eddie and your grandfather was like. You wish you could’ve been there to hear it; you wish you could’ve brought Eddie to meet him in person because even though your grandfather acted tough and mighty, he had the softest heart you’ve ever known, and he would’ve adored Eddie.
You huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you put the journal on the coffee table. You huff, turning to clamber onto Eddie’s lap, glaring at him as your hands dig into his shoulders, “I hate you so much.”
Eddie grins at you, and you drop your head to his chest, snuggling further into him when he wraps his arms around you. You grumble against his chest, turning your head to speak, “You’re making it so hard.” You complain.
You feel the rumble of Eddie’s voice in his chest as he hums, “Hm?”
Eddie shifts beneath you, and you sigh, turning your head up to nuzzle against the base of his throat. Your teeth drag across his skin, red lines left in their wake before you let your tongue coast up his pulsing vein, mouth kissing and suckling at what you can reach— and Eddie whimpers.
“You know…It’s past midnight.”
“Fffuck–”
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Eddie’s dead.
He’s gone. Six feet under. In the next life, body turned back to dust, never coming back, dead. This must be the seventh circle of heaven— is that a thing? Or is that only hell?
Either way, Eddie’s on an entirely different plane of heaven as you press your body against his, knees tightening around his waist as he pulls you close and smears his lips against yours. He can feel the heat of your core through his pants, and his hips have a mind of their own when they buck up into you.
Your fingers are blind and eager when they wriggle through the tight space between you and Eddie, but it sends shivers up Eddie’s spine when you drag your nails down the soft skin of his lower pelvis.
Eddie’s lips part against yours, and he’s licking into your mouth, tongue flicking at your top lip as you shakily moan. “What happened to no sex tonight?” He lowly teases. His hands sink beneath your shit, squeezing at your hips and guiding the roll of your hips.
“Shut up, Eddie.” You whine, fingertips digging into his shoulders when he rubs against your covered clit. Eddie smiles, watching as your face twists in pleasure, and his chest nearly bursts because you’re so fucking pretty.
“You want me?” He asks.
Your lips twitch into a smile, and your hands slide down his arms to rest over his wrists that flex as they work you back and forth over his crotch. “Yeah,” You breathe, tipping your head down to hover your lips over Eddie’s, “I do. I want you, Eddie.”
Eddie’s tongue runs over his lips, and he catches your bottom lip, and you lick out to catch his tongue before pressing your lips together. Eddie uses one hand to cup your face, “You’re not curious where my dick’s been while we were apart?” He teases.
And if you weren’t practically humping Eddie right now and thinking straight, you probably would’ve choked Eddie out or something— but you only mewl and grind down harder. “Not funny.”
Eddie hums, fingers dancing across the band of your panties before dipping past the barrier. He feels like a pirate who’s finally found the hidden treasure, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to ground himself because, Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.
His cock feels strangled and achy in his jeans, and he imagines how good it’ll feel to sink his cock into you as he swirls a gentle finger around your entrance. “For the record,” He drawls, watching your lips part when he dips his finger into you, “It’s been nowhere. My dick, I mean.”
You breathlessly laugh, hips wriggling, your pussy eager for more. “Been beating it with my fist for the last six months, so. Just want you to know— it’s only you, baby.”
You mewl, leaning forward to press your forehead against Eddie’s as you grind against him, shivering when he finally sinks a finger into you, drawing out to circle your clit with sticky arousal before sinking back in with two fingers.
You’re sharing each breath, taking each other in and out; Eddie watches with low eyes as your face twists in pleasure.
“Take it off,” He grumbles, “Take your shirt off.”
You’re moving like it’s second nature. Shaky hands reaching down to loop around the loose shirt, dragging it up and over your body— and Eddie’s head tips back with a groan. “Jesus fuck,” He curses, one hand busy working you as the other reaches down to palm your breast, “When did you take your bra off, you fuckin’ minx?”
You whimper against Eddie’s lips when he kisses you, the force of his eagerness pushing you back. Eddie keeps pressing you back, shuffling and moving around so he can press you down onto your back and hover over you. “Wanna taste you. Let me taste you.” He begs.
You shake your head, lips messily smearing against his, “No. No, you said—” god, Eddie can’t stop fucking kissing you, “You said you’ll let me have you next time, Eds.” You whine.
Fuck, you’re so fucking cute. You’re a goddamn dream pouting up at Eddie, grinding against his fingers as he ticks them up against your walls. “Yeah? You want me?” Eddie breathlessly asks. Your lips are pouty and swollen as you nod, “Already told you I did.” You say.
It takes everything in Eddie to pull away from you, and he thinks he’s gonna marry you when you reach out for him. Thinks he wants to just whisk you away and live on the side of a secluded mountain or some shit. Thinks he wants you to be the mother of his kids when you smile up at him as he rises to his feet, gazing down at you over the apple of his cheeks as he removes his jeans. You’re so pretty, hair spread out beneath you, tits on full display, tummy fluttering with each drag and push of your breaths. You’re lightly dragging the tip of your finger down your stomach, a teasing glint in your eyes as Eddie throws his hair into the shittest bun known to man, and fuck, you’re dipping your hand between your thighs.
Yeah. This is heaven, and you’re god.
Eddie thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life on his knees worshipping you.
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Eddie’s body is warm when he crawls back over you, his body now bare, save for the chains that dangle from his neck. One cross, one guitar pick, one pentagram. They’re cold when they drag up the valley of your chest, and your body perks up with chills.
You slink your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, titling your head up to kiss him as your fingers curl into his messily tied hair. “Give me what I want, Eds.” You softly say against his lips. “Fuck my mouth, please.”
Eddie curses, rutting his cock against the inside of your thigh, and he nods, “Yeah. Fuck. Okay, yeah. Just lay here and look pretty, baby.”
The lasting effects of the three blunts you’d shared with Eddie are swirling through your body, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine as Eddie straddles your hips. He’s the prettiest sight to ever reach your eyes, toned arms, and chest working in tandem as he reaches down to wrap a fist around his cock— and god; you forgot how pretty his cock was. The tip is ruddy and flushed, and your core twists when he angles himself up, and you see the piercing beneath his tip. You definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little detail these past months.
Eddie’s chest is rising and falling quickly and stray pieces of hair cling to his lips when he licks them. You watch with wide, eager eyes as Eddie strokes himself, ringed fingers running against the soft skin of his shaft, pretty hisses curling through his teeth when he thumbs the slit of his tip.
“Quit teasing,” You whine, squirming beneath him. Eddie grins, breathlessly panting as he looks at you, “So impatient.” He mumbles, shifting further up your body until the inside of his thighs press against the side of your tits. You can feel the cool drag of his rings against your sternum, and it sends licks of fire through your core. “My baby’s so impatient, hm?” He taps his cock against your chest, and your frown, fingers digging into his thighs.
“Lucky you’re cute.”
Eddie’s then shuffling and moving around so you’re both comfortably positioned as he kneels over your face, pretty cock glistening above your lips. You open your mouth and let your tongue hang out, ready for Eddie to feed his cock to you, and he chuckles, tapping his swollen tip against your tongue before dragging it to tease you. 
It’s good. It’s so good. The taste of him, the feel of him, the pretty noises he makes. You can feel the cold barbell dragging across your tongue with each slow thrust he gives you, and you can’t wait to feel it inside you again. You’ve been dreaming about it for weeks on end now.
He pulls out with a slick pop, tapping his tip against your lips as he hums, “Ready? Gonna give you what you want now.”
You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.
He’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at a mind-numbing and thigh-clenching rate for just under five minutes before he starts to break. You can feel it in the stutter of his hips, the twitch of his cock on your tongue, the shuddered moans and grunts. You reach up to drag your nails down the soft skin of his stomach, and Eddie whimpers for the second time, and you think it might be your favorite sound— you want more.
He’s pulling out with a curse, squeezing at his tip, and you’re such a fucking tease; you lean forward to kitten lick at his aching tip and hum when he hisses. He shuffles back just enough to lean forward and press a messy kiss to your lips, humming at the taste of himself on your tongue.
“Fuck me, Eddie. Please. Want it so bad it hurts.”
“Jesus fuck— turn around.”
You’re shaking, and Eddie’s touch feels like fire as he helps you flip over to lean on all fours. His hands coast up your back and into your hair, and you push your body back into him, ass pressing against his wet cock as you moan when his fingers curl into your hair.
His other hand smooths over your ass, heavily slapping it once before gripping the warm skin as he speaks beside your ear, “Wanna fuck your ass one day, hm? Gonna let me? Say you’ll let me.” “Oh my god,” You roll your eyes with a smile, tipping your head to the side when Eddie kisses your neck before nipping at your ear. You can feel the curve of his smile against your skin, and it makes your chest flutter as he pulls you up to press your back against his chest.
He’s reaching down between you to grasp his cock and paint it against your wet cunt, and you lose your breath. “Come on. Say you’ll let me fuck your pretty ass.” He practically begs.
You moan when he slips his head in, teasing you with what he knows you want. Your head rolls back to rest against his shoulder, and he hums, slinking his other hand up to cup your throat as he continues teasing himself in and out of your pussy.
You smile, lazy and high and blissed out, “No.”
Eddie groans at that, fingers tightening around your throat as he sinks in deeper. “Not even a finger?”
You push your fingers through his hair, his curly strands nothing but a tangled mess within his hair tie. Your legs tremble as you wriggle back into him, but your voice is steady as you speak, “Fuck me first, and maybe I’ll think about it.”
Eddie takes that as a challenge, apparently, because next thing you know, he’s slamming into you and pressing in to the fucking hilt— all big and pierced and toe curling to the point where your moans turn flat, and all you can do is lace your fingers through his that rest on your hip and hold on for dear fucking life.
He’s pressing you face-first into the carpet, making sure your cheek rests against the couch pillow that had been thrown aside earlier. His fingers are clenched around yours, digging into your hip as you whine and moan into his floor, sobbing out his name with each groundbreaking thrust he gives you.
It’s all-consuming; the way Eddie’s fucking you, the filthy words slipping from his mouth, the lingering effects of weed— god, you feel like an exploding star.
Supernova shit or something like that.
Eddie’s cursing and spilling dirty words of encouragement when you come, leaning over to press his chest against your back and coo into your ear.
“Such a good girl for me.”
“Keep squeezing me like that, baby. You’re so good.”
“Y’sound so pretty when you’re coming on my cock.”
You’re breathless and quivering, and a pitiful whine slips from you when Eddie pulls out, but you can feel him as he wraps his hand around his cock and finishes off, pretty moans pressed into the skin on the back of your neck. The feeling of his sticky release dripping onto your ass makes you want to go at it again already.
He’s peppering kisses across your neck and shoulders, and your body slumps onto the ground in exhaustion, but you smile when he presses his lips to yours.
“So, was that good enough? Have I been granted access to the holy grail?”
You glare at Eddie from where his chin is hooked over your shoulder. He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and you huff. “I’ll tell you what,” You start, shifting and purposely rubbing your ass back against his sensitive cock, smiling when he hisses.
“Make up for the last six months first, and I might be able to cut you a deal.”
“Now you’re just stringing me along.”
You hum, “Oh, like you did with me some months ago?”
Eddie pauses at that, eyes narrowing at you, and you think— fuck, maybe that was too soon. But then a smile cracks across his face, “Touché.”
He sighs and sits up, peeling himself from your sticky skin before gently patting your hip. “Ass up, baby. Got a lot of making up to do, and we’re on a tight schedule.”
And you think to yourself, with the scent of Eddie whirling around you and his touch all over you and his pretty voice in your ear, that yeah, you can work through this together. Even if the process will tear you to shreds all over again.
After all, that’s the price of falling for a rockstar, isn’t it?
————
the end.
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a/n: HOLY SHIT GUYS
if you've made it to the end of this long-winded (and incredibly late, I'm so sorry) ending to this story i can not thank you enough. these two have been so fun to write and i don't plan to leave them completely in the dust so they're not gone forever, but thank you so much to everyone who read and shared and commented. this story has allowed me to meet the most beautiful, kind, funny, and loving people I've ever had the pleasure of talking to and that will be my biggest takeaway from this journey🥹
the biggest thank yous to my pretty mutuals who have been here the whole way, ilysm and want to shrink you guys and put you in my pocket <3
anyway, i'll shut up now, i hope i was able to do these two justice with their ending!! i love and appreciate all kinds of feedback, and as always, thank you for reading, ily <3
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ovaryacted · 2 months
Text
CANDY HEARTS
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PAIRING: RE2!Leon x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: It was Valentine's Day at the precinct and everyone was giving out candy grams for their secret admirers. Who knew that one piece of candy would have so much of an impact?
CONTENT/WARNINGS: FLUFF. Mutual pining. Alcohol consumption. One kiss. Flirting and confessions at the end. Canon-adjacent. Modernized era (they have cell phones). The og gang is together and are all above the age of 21. Leon being silly and not knowing about social cues. Chris plays matchmaker & Claire is a jokester. Jill likes margaritas and Rebecca is the mom of the group. They are all friends and live happily ever after cause I said so.
WC: 3.7k
NOTES: I am back from the dead, and I come bearing gifts. This was just something I wanted to write for Valentine's Day, and I don't even know how the idea came along the entire way. Here’s some nice fluffy stuff with a bit of added corniness, something new from me. Hope you all enjoy and like it! Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
✰ ── 《 Navigation ⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ AO3 》
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February, supposedly the month when red and pink mesh together to signify the one thing that couldn’t be explained. Love. Romance. Companionship.
It was a silly thing really, something that Leon didn’t understand, mostly because to him, it couldn’t be real. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, that he always wondered what it would be like to be so attached to another person it felt like being two parts of one whole. 
It was another full week of the month, the days passing by as quickly as they started. Another day, another patrol, that was what he knew as part of his routine. Heading toward his locker to grab his gear, he was surprised to see a small heart-shaped lollipop wrapped in a red bow. He raised a brow at the strange object, curious fingers reaching out to inspect it closer.
“What do you have there?”
His head turned to the side at the sound of your voice, more so feeling your breath on his neck as you peered over his shoulder. Holding up the red lollipop for you to study, you took it from his grasp, the very tips of your fingers barely touching his before you held the wrapped candy.
“Leon, do you even know what this is?”, your eyes held that same mischievous gleam it always did when you were with him, and simply gave you a shrug. “It’s a candy gram silly”
“What? Someone just put a lollipop in my locker?”, Leon didn’t get why someone would even bother putting something like this for him to find.
“It’s for Valentine’s Day, something that the precinct wanted to do to celebrate. If you get one of these, it means someone is your secret admirer”, the way you described the entire ploy was almost comical to him, and he only chuckled.
“So it’s like a crush type of thing?”
“Sort of. Did you even read the note?”, and from the way he looked like a deer in headlights you knew he didn’t. You motioned over to the small red note that was hidden underneath the piece of candy. Carefully, he went to unfold it and read over the words that were written in cursive black ink.
I can’t turn water into wine, but I’m hoping to turn you into mine.
You watched as Leon quickly became flustered at the funny pick-up line, rolling his eyes and trying to hide the subtle blush he got from reading the words over and over again.
“I don’t like this game”, Leon grumbled under his breath, trying to shake off his embarrassment and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Oh cmon, it’s supposed to be funny. But listen, if you don’t want your lollipop I’ll gladly take it”, you smirked as his eyes met yours, pink lips curling up to match your grin.
“What? You didn’t get any candy grams of your own so you have to steal mine?”, he unwrapped the lollipop, popping it into his mouth and humming as he approved the taste. Cherry, his favorite.
“For your information, I got three. I just munched on all of the candies already I wanted another”, you placed your hands on your hips, the uniform only accentuating the curvature of your figure that Leon tried his hardest not to notice.
“Really? You got notes too or were you too busy eating your lollipops you forgot to notice”, he was teasing you now, going into his locker to put on his tactical belt and wrapping it around his hips. It fit snugly on his body, the leather belt he wore underneath to hold up his cargo pants seemed to add to his slim figure. Not that you were paying attention either. 
“I did, but didn’t pay too much attention. I got a nice one though, said something like My candy heart is all yours. Real cute stuff”, you leaned against the wall as you waited for Leon before going on patrol. He was one of the only good things working at the R.P.D. had to offer, and coincidentally it just helped that he was also your friend. Having known each other for a while now, being like this came naturally, remembering how easy it was to be with him when you two first clicked. 
“Sounds corny”, he said with a shake of his head, closing the metallic door and gesturing the both of you to start walking out of the room and into the main hall.
“Yeah, you’d know everything about being corny wouldn’t you?”, you taunted him back as you walked through the halls of the precinct, keeping track of all the patrols you had on the board today.
“Yeah yeah, whatever. Are you coming on this patrol with me or what?”, he already knew the answer, didn’t have to so much as second guess to know that you’d be riding along with him.
“Of course I am. Who else will bother you with their favorite pop songs?”, you walked ahead of him, and his gaze went down your back to look at the handcuffs that jingled every time you took a step.
He definitely wasn’t looking at anything else.
-
It was a long day of work patrolling the city before Leon finally had some time to himself to relax. Thankfully, he didn’t have to work the overnight shift and could lounge at home to watch some shitty reality TV or whatever tickled his fancy. Of course, that was before he got a text message from you, ever the pest constantly wondering what he was up to. Not that he complained.
There’s a whole theme night going on at the local bar. Free shots at 10:30 pm. Bring your ass over here, and wear red!
Drinks? With you? That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary considering how familiar it felt to be around you, but he still couldn’t think of anything else he wanted to do for the night. So, he pretended like he didn’t want to be dragged out of his small apartment as he trudged his feet toward the shower to get dressed. He shouldn’t have cared so much about being presentable, usually, he never did. But for you, he was willing to try new things.
For the first time in probably ever, he’s forgone his usual color palette and took out a red button-down, rolling the sleeves up towards his forearms. Leon was always more fond of shades that reminded him of the sky, blues, greens, and white. Red was out of his comfort zone, but going out on Valentine’s Day night was enough to make that ball of anxiety tighten in his gut. Topping it all off with a bomber jacket, he left the keys to his jeep behind and took a cab instead, playing it safe if he ended up drinking something that would surely knock him off his feet.
He seemed to be counting down the minutes to the moment he walked into the bar. Scanning the area, he looked for any sight of you amongst the crowd, walking past several pairs of people lip-locking and downing shots in groups. The energy was electric, the music was lively, and as he continued to trek further into the bar that’s when he spotted you.
There you were, sporting a red deep-cut blouse and leather pants that were tight along your thighs. He caught the glossy red lipstick you put on for the occasion that only brightened your teeth as you laughed with those around you. And when you turned your head to find him standing there, he gulped down the pang he felt in his chest.
Yeah. He’s screwed.
“Finally, I’ve been waiting for you for so damn long. Good to know you listened to me for once”, you walked up to him, grabbed a hold of his wrist, and pulled him toward a corner of the bar where your other friends were sitting. Unless you cared to look for it, his pulse spiked when your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Maybe you felt it, maybe you didn’t, but that brief touch was cut short when Leon was brought to the table.
Most of the newfound gang was there, Chris and his sister Claire were there sharing a beer, while Rebecca was forcing Jill to be a bit more social. It was supposedly a normal night even though you were out of your uniform, forcing Leon to find a point on the wall to avoid peeking over in your direction. Chris kept him occupied, offering him a drink that he sipped to ease the nerves he felt, all while Claire teased him about wearing red instead of his usual navy. This wasn’t so bad, I’ll make it through the night, he thought to himself. 
It only took a few drinks for everything to spiral out of control. The blame is to be put on tequila. It was always tequila, but thank god it was the weekend. 
Just like you warned him, 10:30 pm rolled around and the bar burst into cheers as servers carried shot glasses filled with red liquid. Everyone at the table had one, and Leon watched as you downed the shot with ease, a wild grin on your face as you did. With your encouragement, and Claire’s taunting, he drank the shot and winced at the stinging of the liquid going down his throat. He hated taking shots, that you knew, but he’d do it so long as it made you happy.
This is why you leave the clear liquor to me and you stick to your beer. He remembered hearing you say that to him one night when you made him drink vodka, the raging hangover he got in the morning only further proved your point.
He’s lost count of the number of shots you consumed, splitting them between Jill and Claire, and an extra you forced Chris to take despite him sticking to his beer. Rebecca remained as the group chaperone, making sure nobody did anything too embarrassing tonight. Hearing a particular song that brightened your mood, you brought Claire towards the middle aisle where others seemed to follow you to dance in the small space.
Propping his elbow up against the wooden table, Leon leaned back to simply watch you move to the music. His whole body felt warm at the sight, seeing how you swayed your hips to the beat of the song and Claire did the same. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his eyes ran up the stitching of your leather pants, over the deep v-line cut of your blouse, and again towards your face. Sure, you were attractive, he wasn’t blind. But what he was the most fond of was your smile, all cheery and wide to the point where the corners of your eyes crinkled.
He could see that look all the time and never get sick of it. The only thing he’d change was that he was the reason why you beamed like that.
“You’re doing it again”, Chris said out loud with a smirk, knocking Leon out of his little fantasy before meeting eye to eye again.
“I’m not doing anything”, he challenged in denial, Chris only chortled and shook his head.
“Unless you’re watching Claire dance, you know exactly what you’re doing”, the brunette matched his sister in humor, Leon exasperating in disbelief and took another sip of his beer. “You like her. You should do something about it”
“Chris…”
“C’mon, man. How much longer are you going to stand on the sidelines and just watch? Even I’m getting tired of the tension, it’s killing me”, ever the dramatic man, he wrapped a thick arm around Leon’s shoulder, bringing him in closer as if he were telling him a secret.
“You had a chance with the candy grams you realize that right? Sure, free candy but why not make it special?”
“Who says I didn’t do just that?”, the blonde said before it could be filtered out properly, sighing and downing the rest of his bottle.
“You’re joking. Seriously? She got like three of those things”, Chris’s brown eyes widened the slightest bit, not wanting to believe the truth.
“Does it look like I’m laughing right now?”, Leon chuckled incredulously at the realization that these feelings he’d been harboring for so long were starting to pour out of him the more he drank. “I don’t know how to talk to her. Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway, she’s not into me”
“Leon, you must be an idiot or something because she is into you. Who do you think gave you the candy gram?”, Chris muttered, probably not meaning to say it the way he did but it sounded like a confession.
Leon didn’t have time to ask for more details when you came back to the table on his side, an energetic Claire going towards Jill who was down three margaritas and growing sleepy. He could practically smell the perfume off of you, jasmine and soft vanilla, things that he found comfort in and sought after through his day-to-day.
“I think that’s enough dancing for me, I got dizzy”, you said, finishing the last bit of your watered-down drink and slamming the glass down on the table. From the way you were standing, your body almost leaned against Leon’s, ever inching closer toward him.
“Do you want to leave?”, Leon asked you, ever the concerned friend and partner despite the fact the alcohol was starting to get to him too.
“Nah, I’ll stay a little bit. Do you want to go?”, the way your eyes were hazy when you spoke to him brought that same twitch in his chest he usually ignored when he was around you.
“If you’re good, then I’m good. I’m not leaving without you”, he didn’t mean to say it in a different context outside of friendly, or maybe he did, but when he avoided a visceral reaction from you he figured he was in the clear.
“You got it boss”, you joked with him, but your hand lightly skimmed against his by accident, a shock running through you from the light touch. You didn’t meet his eye, instead, you felt the way his pinkie came closer to your own, discreetly curling around the digit.
It was a shy touch as if to gently test the boundaries of what was other than a cordial relationship. Leon started to grow anxious, thinking maybe he messed up, his mind beginning to spiral until you squeezed his finger back in silence. He tried not to make it obvious, but he looked over at you to see you smiling, and for that second he thought his small dream had come true.
“Another drink and then we’ll call it quits”, Chris’ voice popped the bubble that you were both in, but your hands didn’t move from where they were.
Yeah, one more drink couldn’t hurt, so long as you two remained like this for the rest of the night. 
-
Leon regrets having that one last drink. The world around him was spinning, and his feet were lugging across the floor as if he was going to sink into the Earth any minute now. He nearly forgot that he wasn’t going home alone, that you were beside him, doing your best to support his body as you brought him over to your place like you had done a few times before.
Unlocking the door to your apartment and walking inside, Leon was hit with the same scent of jasmine and soft vanilla that he recognized as your own, faint layers of cinnamon engulfing him when you brought him over to your couch in a slump.
“I’m never letting you drink that much again”, your voice sounded almost distant, but it was comforting nonetheless. You walked away from him, your footsteps growing faint until you came back with a glass of water he graciously chugged.
“Wasn’t so bad, I can handle my liquor”, he slouched further into your couch, his head beginning to whirl from everything he drank.
“Leon, I had to carry you inside. You’re drunk”, you glanced at him with that same mischievousness you always had reserved just for him. Even if you had a better alcohol tolerance than he did, your pupils being dilated told him that you were in the same predicament
“Not complaining”, he was damn near mumbling now, his head pivoting to look at you fully. You were right there next to him, all dolled up in a way he hadn’t seen before. In the back of his mind, he imagined you did it just for him.
So pretty.
“You think so?”, your voice brought him out of his current haze, watching as he blinked once or twice before realizing he said his inner thoughts out loud.
“I-I…huh?”, Leon was stuttering now, looking towards the floor and growing embarrassed at the slip-up. You couldn’t help but giggle under your breath, and he prayed to God it wasn’t at him.
“Leon…I don’t know if you can tell but I’ve been trying to send you signals that I like you for months now. You’re a tough nut to crack”, you were speaking, but your words stopped filtering through his brain the moment you said the words ‘I like you’.
You like me?
“Yes, you cornball, I do”, you answered him anyway, catching him off guard at the response. At this rate, he’ll spill his deepest darkest secrets because he can’t tell the difference between what he’s thinking and what he’s saying. “The candy gram, that was me. Thought it might register in your head but it didn’t”
Leon looked like he had uncovered the biggest truth known to man. It was astonishing to witness, how he couldn’t process the thought that you were actually interested in him. You could see the gears starting to turn in his head, and once the revelation settled in his mind his lips were formed in a gentle smile. 
“That was a really bad pick-up line”, Leon said, making you laugh even harder. Your hand made contact with his chest, patting against his body with every sound that slipped past you. 
“And yours was any better?”, your hand didn’t move from where it sat on his chest, mindlessly caressing the material of his red button-down. 
“Yeah, I think ‘my candy heart is all yours’ is one of my best works”, he was almost cocky when he talked, but his facial expression was anything short of dorky. You both looked like a bunch of love-drunk idiots waiting for one to say what the other wanted to hear. 
“Hmm, that sounded like you. Is this you admitting that you gave me that candy gram?”, you were leaning on him, shifting so your body was closer against his. The tequila still running through your system heightened your senses, the natural scent of Leon’s cologne was enough to make your heart flutter. 
“Something like that”, he grinned bashfully, blue eyes looking at you intensely. He took in every detail of your features he could get, moving some of your hair out of your face and curling it behind your ear. His hand didn’t move too far, resting his palm against your cheek and running his thumb against the warmth of your skin.
“Would it be bad to kiss you?”, he whispered his words to you, as if his feelings would only be safe in the four walls of this room. 
“No, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me”, you moved so your chest was pressed against his, hands moving up towards his neck and caressing the hair at his nape. 
Leon didn’t have to wait too long to feel your lips meshing with his, sighing in what he could only describe as pure satisfaction. A shiver rushed down his spine and broke off into the rest of his body, blood pulsing through his veins at rapid speed the more his heart pumped in his chest. He pressed your body against him, wrapping an arm around your waist and keeping his other hand on your cheek.
Leon felt drunk, both literally and figuratively off of you and everything that you were. Things made sense for the first time, having you like this here with him. It was all he wanted, all he needed, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough. Against his wishes, he pulled away for air, staying close by to rest his forehead against yours. 
“About damn time Kennedy”, you teased him again, but your expression was tender. You noticed how your red lipstick stained his lips, no doubt leaving barely any left on your mouth. “Red looks good on you”, you put a thumb against his lips, rubbing at the plush skin you just felt for the first time.
“Does this mean I get to ask you to be my Valentine?”, he looked so cute when he asked you, rolling your eyes at his question, but you found it endearing.
“You’re two hours too late, but I’ll happily be your Valentine anyway”, you gave him one more smooch on the lips, and the happiness on his face was damn near palpable. “But you owe me a better one next time, you hear me?”
Next time.
“Loud and clear. I’ll have a better pick-up line to use on you”
“If you start getting corny, I will leave you on the couch”, the playful threat didn’t worry Leon in the slightest, his smile getting wider with every passing second he spent with you.
“Awe come on, I meant what I said. My candy heart is all yours”, his nose nuzzled into your neck, kissing your soft ticklish skin and breathing you in, marking your scent into his memory.
This time around, he thinks he’ll thank the tequila instead. Perhaps Cupid is real, a little overdue, but he still got the job done in the end.
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 months
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I have request for Spencer Reid x Plus size fem!reader. Maybe her and Spencer are good friends and she gets stood up on a date or her date leaves after seeing her and Spencer swoops in and love confession.
p.s I love you work. <3
༉‧₊˚. 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
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― pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader
― summary: admitting that you got stood up on a date would be like admitting defeat, too bad spencer's too good of a best friend to let you go through this alone, even if he was the last person you wanted to see.
― warnings: best friends to lovers, getting stood up on dates, a red flag named chris (sorry to all the chris' out there), mutual pining, requited love, love confessions, and implied dates!
― wc: 1457
⋆ a/n: OH, MY GOODNESS IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN AN ACTUAL ONESHOT. i got hit with a random bout of inspiration out of nowhere and i have a bunch of fanfics that already have banners made but they're unwritten and rotting in my drafts so i'm trying to clean them out first. thank you for this and i hope you enjoy some best friend!spencer reid!!
masterlist | AO3
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Leave it up to you to be stood up on a date you didn’t even want to go on.
You were even looking for anything with anything else, you just needed a distraction, you needed anything that would help you move on from him. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault that you were in love with him – well, it actually kind of is – but that’s beside the point.
There was no way you could continue to sit there and allow yourself to wallow in self-pity over the fact that your feelings for your longtime best friend weren’t reciprocated. You were a grown woman for God’s sakes! And as a grown woman, it was up to you to make grown up decisions. One phone call to Derek was all it took for you to get hooked up with some dude that he knew.
“He’s a good guy,” He said.
Yeah, right. Good guy your ass.
Not only did you look stupid, but you were left stranded in a sports bar surrounded by a bunch of strangers – no, scratch that! Almost all of the patrons in this bar tonight were men, it was football season. You were practically asking to get murdered! What kind of FBI agent would you be if you allowed yourself to be murdered over the fact that some guy’s team lost.
With a sigh, you gazed at your chat between Chris and you. You had sent him a text thirty minutes ago asking where he was when he was ten minutes late, but even that message had been left unread.
The only reason why you were still here was because you were oh so painfully embarrassed, and you hoped that others around you couldn’t tell that there was supposed to be a second person joining you at your very barren booth that you had somehow managed to score.
Now that you think about it, how in the hell had you allowed this man to talk you into going to a sports bar instead of oh, I don’t know, a restraunt with a calm, and comfortable atmosphere?
Maybe it was the fact that the only person’s face you could see in your mind as you discussed where you were going to go together was Spencer’s. As ashamed as you were to admit, you mostly imagined a disappointed look on his face when he realized you were going out with someone else, but even you knew that was damn near impossible.
It wasn’t your failed date that was the shit show – even though it is a close second – it was you that was the main attraction. How could you have allowed yourself to be this childish? You weren’t in high school anymore, and you hadn’t been in some years, but old habits die hard, you guess?
It didn’t have to be common knowledge to tell that your romantic life when you were in school was very, very sad. You often found yourself alone on most weekends, ample amount of time to study right under your fingertips. You figured that when you had gotten older things would have gotten better but… nope.
You didn’t know who to call.
Would you call Derek and blame him? No, he couldn’t have known, but you could totally get him to beat Chris’ ass. The thought of your favorite and very muscular chocolate thunder roughing the piece of shit up helped to easy your nerves, badly enough. There was just one person you couldn’t bring yourself to call, and that was Spencer.
Calling Spencer meant that you were giving up, that you were waving the white flag, that you were still in love with him and no number of blind dates, good or bad, could change that.
You bit the inside of your cheek in thought, at least you had dressed up in something comfortable.
“Can I sit here?” You heard someone ask over the bustling noise of the bar.
“Honestly, you can just have the thi–” You spoke without looking up, but when you did, your words died in your throat.
There Spencer stood in his full glory; tall, lanky, nerdy, and extremely uncomfortable, but nonetheless, he slid into the sticky seat across from you with an awkward smile.
“Spence? What are you doing here?” You asked in shock, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“I uh- Morgan called me. He said that Chris told him to tell you something came up, but I uh- I figured that wasn’t true.” He explained sympathetically. You scoffed, your body slouching along with the noise. “Yeah, no shit.” Your words were bitter and harsh, which caused you to squeeze your eyes shut.
“Fuck, Spence. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to talk to you like that, I’m just… frustrated.”
He reached out his hand, albeit reluctantly seeing as though the table was in the same state as the seat, maybe even a bit worse. You looked down at it then at him before relenting, your full hand slipping into his lithe one perfectly, as if it belonged there.
The fact that this felt so right made your stomach twist sickeningly, fingerings twitching in desperation to pull away. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to stay. You did not have the mental compacity to dig yourself out of another hole.
“No, it’s okay. I understand.” He reassured, his thumb caressing the back of your knuckles gently. “I came as soon as he called,” He then looked around, “Especially after he told me where you were.” You laughed a bit at his concern, your body feeling lighter as it finally straightened.
A soft grin graced your features.
“Thank you, Spence. Really. I know how uncomfortable these kinds of places make you. I just- I really thought tonight was going to go differently.” I thought that things between us were going to go differently, is what you really meant.
“I’m sorry, I know you liked him.”
You grimaced at the word ‘liked.’
“I think ‘liked’ would be the last word I would use to describe how I feel for Chris.”
It was his turn for his eyebrows to furrow. “What do you mean.”
You huffed. “What I meant was that I didn’t even want to go on this stupid fucking date anyways, but I had too… I had too…” You allowed your words to trail off when you had caught yourself about to admit something you had fought years to keep under wraps.
“You had to what?”
Goddamn him and his never-ending curiosity.
“Just leave it alone, please?” You pleaded. You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, your gaze soft and vulnerable. “Okay.”
A silence – what was an equivalent to silence – settled over the both of you. The air was thick with unspoken words and feelings, an invisible line was drawn that the two of you were too scared to cross.
“I would’ve never stood you up, you know.” Spencer piped up quietly, his grip that had gone limp in yours tightening. “What?” Your breath hitched. “And I would’ve taken you to someplace nicer than this.” His voice was shaky and forceful, as if he was forcing himself speak in fear that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t say anything at all.
“What are you saying?” You were breathless, the butterflies that fluttered around in your gut making you nauseous. Hope bloomed at a dangerous rate in your chest.
“What I’m saying is that if I were to take you out on a date, it would be a lot better than this.” He had finally gotten the courage to raise his gaze instead of focusing on where your hands were interlaced. “I would take you anywhere you wanted to go, then I would try my best to make it memorable for you because I…” He gulped. “Because I love you.”
Your ears were ringing. There was sweat beginning to form on your hairline.
“You’re being serious?” The question sounded more like a plea. “Because if you’re saying this because you feel bad, I-” He cut you off. “I don’t feel bad.” He lowered his head to where yours was in an attempt to connect your gazes deeper.
“I really do love you. I- I have for a long time.” Spencer confessed.
You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” You said through a wobbly smile. His smile matched yours. You could feel the fact that both of your hands were extremely clammy with nerves, but none of you could find it within yourself to care.
“Can I cash in that date now?”
“Now?” He asked incredulously, lifting his free arm to check the time on his wrist. “It’s pretty late.”
You gave his hand a squeeze.
“I’m pretty sure we can figure that out.”
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ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter
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greatooglymooglyyy · 22 days
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Lovers and Friends 2 (M.S.)
summary: when y/n's boyfriend invites her out to a dinner a week before her birthday, the last thing she's expecting is to get broken up with. but little does she know, it opens a window for her bestfriend, matt, to tell her what he's been trying to for years; that he's hopelessly in love with her. headed off to vegas for her dream music festival, matt (and the rest of their crew) try to find a way to open her eyes to what she's been blind to for years... that it's been them all along.
executive produced & cowritten by sienna @rootbeerworshiper
contains: pining, brokenhearted reader, fluff, cussing, flashbacks (in italics), 2.4k words, dual pov
a/n: sigh, i couldn't bring myself to proofread tn. maybe tmw. also ik the real lovers and friends festival is only one day BUT i needed it to be 3 days so just vibe lil baby
series masterlist
Y/N's POV
“How the fuck are you still not done packing?” Nick questions, standing there like a disappointed father while I shove random articles of clothing into my suitcase.
“I….. well I’m not sure. I just procrastinated.” I reply, a slight wash of embarrassment settling over me as I attempt to zip up an already full pouch in the suitcase.
Madi just laughs from the couch, her bags packed and placed neatly beside her. “Y/N always takes forever to pack. It’s just who she is."
“Well I want to meet the person who’s great idea it was to book plane tickets for a six am departure time.” I groan, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I think about what else I might need.
“Hey, are we ready to go?” A familiar voice says, walking out of his bedroom on the main floor.
“There you go! The man of the hour.” Nick jokes, gesturing towards Matt who’s walking towards the living room with freshly wet hair and a duffle bag slung on his shoulders.
“Y/N, are you still not done packing?” Matt questions, walking over to me after setting down his bag on the floor.
I look up at him, scolding him with my eyes. “No, I'm not done Matthew. Someone decided to book the world’s earliest flight.”
He chuckles softly, bending down to my level and beginning to help you repack slightly, his hands rolling up my clothes smaller than I could have.
For whatever reason I can’t bring myself to look away, infatuated by his focus as he tucks away random shirts into my suitcase.
This is until his eyes meet mine, looking up at me and holding my gaze for a moment. My head keeps telling me to look away, but it’s as if my body is speaking for me, our eyes maintaining contact until someone walks in, the sound of the front door breaking the hold we shared.
I cough, clearing my throat as Nate makes his way up the stairs. “Are we ready to go?” he asks, making his hands comfortable on his hips.
Before I can speak, Matt answers. “Yeah I think we’re good now”
“Wait where the fuck is Chris?” Nick asks, standing up from his spot on the couch next to Madi.
“Did no one wake him up?” Nate questions. “This happened last time too.”
I laugh at the irony of being judged for packing at the last minute when a member of our group is still sound asleep. “He’ll be fine. It takes him two seconds to pack.”
“Christopher!” Nick singsongs, skipping out of the room and heading to annoy Chris awake. Nate laughs and trails behind, yelling something about the city that never sleeps.
Madi and I share a long-suffering look before I turn back to Matt and shrug. “I think I’ve got everything.”
He sweeps his eyes over the room doing a last scan, his eyes stalling on the kitchen counter. “You’re not taking your glasses?”
“Nah. I’ll put my contacts in when we get there. I don’t really need to see anything before that.” I say as I place my suitcase on the ground and yank up the handle.
“Okay.” Matt says, hesitating and dragging out the word like he’s unsure.
Before I can respond, Nate and Nick come back up the stairs, each of them holding one of Chris’ bags. He trails behind them, yawning and clearly cranky. When he sees us staring at him, he throws us a hard glance. “What are you looking at motherfuckers? We going to Vegas or what?”
*********************************************************
After we get through security, we sit in our section huddled over Nick’s phone as he explains the itinerary. I squint down at the phone, throwing daggers at Matt when he gives me a pointed look. Okay so maybe he was right about the glasses. So what? Broken clocks babe.
“Wait!” I cut in as I look at Sunday’s lineup. “What if we miss N-Sync?”
“Then I’ll do my little dancey-dance.” Nate mutters under his breath and Madi pushes his shoulder.
“We won’t.” She assures me and I smile at her gratefully.
My phone pings alerting me that my ex has posted and my face drops. Before I can open Instagram, Nick looks over my shoulder and sighs. He holds out his hand and gives me a stern face. “Give me your phone. I’m deleting the app.”
“But-”
“Y/N. You are not spending your birthday trip cyberstalking this fucking loser. Phone.”
I groan and hand over the phone, dropping my head onto Chris’ arm who pats my back awkwardly. Nick grins and hands me my phone back sans Instagram. “There. Download it back and I’ll hurt you.”
Over the intercom, an attendant calls for our group so we stand to line up. I walk over to Madi and link our arms since we had to get seats a few rows behind the rest of our group. “I downloaded the Corpse Bride just for you babe.” I say as we make it to our line.
“Um, actually” Madi says, pulling away from me, her face showing a tinge of panic. “Matt, is it okay if we switch seats? I have something I need to talk to Nick about.”
Matt looks confused for a fraction of a second but nods and steps out of line, swapping spots with her.
I look between all my friends with a raised eyebrow, the feeling that I’m missing something rising. “What do you-” I start to ask but Matt cuts me off, uncharacteristically loud.
“What’s your favorite song of the week?” He asks, giving me a small private smile. I grin at the question, pulling out my phone to check.
“favorite color?” matt scrawls out, sliding a piece of paper across the desk when our teacher turns back to the board.
“light pink” i write back quickly, watching his reaction and smirking before he even writes back.
“basic.”
“okay mr.blue” i toss him an joking evil eye when i pass the note back and he bites his lip to hide a smile.
“favorite song?”
i stare at the note for a long time, tapping my pen against my chin, before i finally answer. “that’s impossible to answer. there’s too many to pick from.”
matt thinks for a while, leaning back into his chair. “what’s your favorite of the week?”
“probably selfcare by mac. why?”
he smiles over at me when he passes the sheet back. “i’ll keep asking you every week. maybe one day something will stick.”
And for the last six years, he’s done exactly that, remembering to ask like clockwork. I look up at him from under my lashes, already knowing he’s going to make fun of me. “Okay, hear me out.”
“Oh god-”
When we take off, I connect Matt and I’s headphones both to my phone so I can play him my throwback playlist. He’s being a bit of a hater but I know if we weren’t in public, he’d be jumping around and dancing to Jay Sean’s Down.
I huff in frustration as I bring my phone closer to my face, feeling a lot like a grandma. Matt leans down and grabs his backpack from between his legs, reaching inside and pulling out my glasses. I laugh without meaning to and give him a grateful smile. “You’re such a know-it-all.”
“Someone’s got to be.” He responds, leaning over my seat and hitting skip when Akon comes on.
As a 90’s love song starts up, I notice Matt bouncing his leg a bit like he does when he’s nervous. I furrow my brows that this, knowing he’s not usually an anxious flier. When I drop my head on his shoulder, he stills immediately so I keep it there, closing my eyes and letting the music take me away. The last thing I register before I fall asleep is the pressure of Matt resting his head gently on top of mine.
*********************************************************
“Wake up, Madi!” I say as I flop onto her bed. “Let’s go see the turtles.”
She's been crashed out in the bed since we made it to the hotel an hour ago and she's showing no signs of moving soon.
“Go. Away.”
I can definitely understand her want for a nap after that flight but thankfully I’m wide awake. Matt and I managed to sleep the entire flight away unlike our friends. They apparently started up an entire Candy Crush tournament complete with a betting ring. Madi, the saint that you are.
“C’mon. You gotta get up for Y/N and Matt.” Nick says. When I throw him a puzzled look, he adds hastily, “and Nate and Chris!”
Weird.
Madi groans but rolls out of bed like a trooper to Nick and I’s chants of encouragement. While she goes to touch up her makeup and Nick makes sure the boys are ready, I order the Uber. When it’s confirmed, I open my messages, reading the one I received last night for the hundredth time.
‘i’m sorry. i wish it was you"
My fingers hover over the keyboard as a million replies rush to my head but I force myself to put the phone down instead. I’m on my dream trip with people who love me. Somehow I can make that be enough. Even if I wasn’t enough for Asher.
When we pull up to the aquarium, I’m bouncing with excitement. I look over at Chris knowing he loves shit like this just as much as me. “What’s first?”
To my left, Nate opens up the map of the aquarium, looking like a dad on vacation. “I vote seahorses.”
“Lame!” I protest, looking over his shoulder. “They have a fucking shark tunnel, bro.”
“But can their males get pregnant?” Chris retorts as if that is the most obvious deciding factor there could be. I roll my eyes and look back as Matt gently touches my elbow.
“I’ll go with you to the sharks and we can meet back up later.”
I clap excitedly before waving at the rest of our group and heading upstairs.
“It’s been a lot of me and you so far, huh? Hope you’re not getting sick of me.” I joke as we step to the side and allow a mom with a stroller to pass us.
But Matt doesn’t laugh, he just shakes his head giving me a quiet and earnest, “Not possible.”
In the tunnel, we stand shoulder to shoulder and look up as a tiger shark swims over our heads. I glance over at Matt, noticing how the reflection of the water tinges his face a cool blue, and let my eyes wander down his jawline.
When he flicks his eyes back to me, I look away, pointing at a shark in the distance. “I wish she’d come closer. She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. She is.” He replies, but when I look back at him he’s not looking into the tank at all. When I open my mouth to question him, I hear someone call our names.
“What, Nick?” Matt says, sounding a bit irritated.
“They are going to let us hold the baby turtles!” He says, his voice pitching up in excitement.
At this, Matt and I share a glance before we take off out of the tunnel, pushing each other childishly to be the first in line.
While we’re waiting for the show-and-tell to start, sitting criss-cross applesauce like a bunch of kids, my phone dings so I pull it out. My heart drops when I open a text from one of my friends with a screenshot of Asher’s instagram story.
It’s a picture of him and Olivia, her sitting casually in his lap while they both grin. When I look closer, I realize that I know the background; they are at his parent’s house. He’s already brought her home to them. My eyes start to water and I stand up.
The same Asher who told me time and time again that he just ‘wasn’t the Instagram official type’. The same Asher who only let me meet his mom once after months of asking.
“Are you okay?” Madi asks, standing with me and looking down at my phone. When she sees the picture, she whispers a quiet, “oh” and wraps her arms around me.
Chris takes the phone out of my hand and almost immediately starts ranting which is more than I can handle right now.
“I’m going to head back to the hotel. You guys should stay.” I say, grabbing my phone back and ordering another Uber.
“You’re not going back alone. Are you crazy?” Nate says, standing with the rest of the group.
I sigh in frustration, trying not to snap at them. I know they are just trying to help. “Please. I need to be by myself.”
*****************************************************
Matt POV
Thanking my Uber driver, I get out of the car with my bag and gently close the door. After Y/N left the aquarium, the day was pretty much over for me. After we sat together watching her location to make sure she got back to the hotel safely, I was the next to go.
I headed off to the store to get some of her favorite things in the hopes of maybe saving the first night of her trip. For some reason, I’m full of nerves as I knock on her room door. But to my surprise, Nick swings the door open instead of her.
“Oh, hey Matt. We were wondering where you were.” He says, his voice holding a bit of relief.
I give him a weary smile and peer over his shoulder, noticing Madi and Y/N sitting in the bed, all three of their faces covered in a lime green mask. Nick steps back to let me in and I stroll awkwardly over to stand in front of her.
“I…uh…got you some stuff. Thought it might make you feel a little better.” I say as I hand her the bag. Her eyes light up as she looks through the bag and I smile, taking in her face. She’s obviously been crying, the reddening of her eyes giving her away, but she seems okay.
“That is so sweet, Matty. You didn’t have to.” She says, reaching up and touching my arm.
I shrug, not knowing how to tell her I’d do it a thousand more times just to see her smile. “It’s nothing.”
I tell them all goodnight and head back to my room. As I leave the room, I hear Nick tell a joke and Y/N’s genuine full laughter. I pause outside the door, leaning against it for a second and smile sadly.
I’m just glad she has someone with her to make her laugh, someone that gives her comfort. Even if it’s not me. Even if it never is.
🏷️/ @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos
@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo
@clemlament @fwskullz @luv4kozume @lotsofloveloulou @thebottledwatersupplier
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jadenlix · 9 months
Text
ALL GROWN UP - CHAN SERIES MASTERLIST.
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Pairing: Bangchan afab!Reader
Genre: ex childhood friends to lovers / bestfriends cousin!chan / slow burn!! Fluff, smut, angst.
18+ only!!
WARNINGS! Adult themes, unprotected piv. (Use a condom noobs) graphic writing of sex like I’m talking hard, dirty, disgusting sex, flawed characters, alcohol & drug use, mutual fantasizing, mutual pining, jealousy, strong language, explicit sexual content, slight corruption kink, many, many kinks(all consensual don’t fret!) , cheating, toxicity, semi stalker-ish vibes?
Summary:
A new neighbour is moving in opposite you.
How do you know this? The crashing of furniture scares the living shit out of you and your best friend, Jisung. Turns out to he knows this neighbour? Wait it’s his cousin Chris. The same Chris you used to force to play with you and your bratz dolls. The same Chris you had a killer crush on. The same Chris that left without saying goodbye 13 years ago.
He’s 25 now, a song writer who works on motorcycles in his spare time. And god doesn’t he look good. No, he’s your best friends cousin. He’s off limits. Unacceptable. Taboo.
But the way he looks at you is Taboo. The way his hand grazes your hips when he walks past you is Taboo. The way he eye fucks you across the room, in front of jisung. Is Taboo. The way he holds you in front of the mirror as he-
All grown up - coming soon [September]
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Series Masterlist;
Chapter one
To be added to the taglist; either fill this out; TAGLIST, or comment/ send ask !
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astraystayyh · 1 year
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MASTERLIST
all rights reserved © astraystayyh. all pieces are works of fiction and do not represent the members in real life. do not copy, translate or repost.
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OT8
╰┈➤ series.
༊*·˚ SKZ song series masterlist (completed)
༊*·˚ Winter falls | winter themed collab with @forlix (in progress)
༊*·˚ SKZ quotes series masterlist (in progress)
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ All for you- skz wedding vows | f.
༊*·˚ SKZ saying I love you for the first time | f.
╰┈➤ headcannons.
༊*·˚ SKZ as oddly specific love languages | f.
༊*·˚ Mundane activities you'd enjoy with SKZ | f.
༊*·˚ SKZ when you are stressed and overworked | h/c.
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bang chan.
╰┈➤ one-shots & series.
༊*·˚ Pieces of you | f. a. singledad!chris. mutual pining. neigbors!au.
⟿ In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
༊*·˚ Vanilla | a. f.
⟿ Breakup with a happy ending.
༊*·˚ Beginning of the end (part 1) | a.
⟿ You are breaking up with Chan, he just doesn't know it yet.
༊*·˚ Bittersweet (part 2) | a. f. exes to lovers.
⟿ Four years later, you are back home and everything has changed.
༊*·˚ Wait for me | a. major character death.
⟿ "I think I might see you soon, my yn. You've been waiting for me, haven't you? Just like we promised."
༊*·˚ The wedding saga | f.
The impromptu proposal.
A few hours before the wedding.
The wedding and the morning after.
༊*·˚ Myth | f. friends to lovers.
⟿ Skimming across the edge of being friends and something more with Chan is a dangerous game. Even more so when you're both sharing the same bed.
"The consequence of what you do to me, help me to name it."
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ chan is tired and you are his sun.
༊*·˚ you're sick and chan takes care of you.
༊*·˚ when you're having a bad day and chan is still proud of you.
༊*·˚ chan comforting you through a thunderstorm.
༊*·˚ chan's hugs.
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lee minho.
╰┈➤ one-shots & series.
༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 1 | f, a. academic rivals to lovers. slow burn.
⟿ Your studies have been your life line for as long as you can remember, what happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?
༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 2 | f. a. h/c.
⟿ In which Minho rewrites your entire relationship with love.
༊*·˚ Echoes of love | memory loss trope. a. h/c.
⟿ If given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.
chapter i. to forget - chapter ii. to remember
༊*·˚ The only exception | strangers to lovers. slow burn. barista!minho.
⟿ Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.
"Cause none of it was ever worth the risk, but you are the only exception."
༊*·˚ Conversations with Minho | f.
༊*·˚ A cat proposal | f.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ mine.
༊*·˚ a sun and a moon.
༊*·˚ when you used to feel lonely but not anymore with minho.
༊*·˚ minho comforts you through a storm.
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seo changbin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ The alternative | brother's best friend!changbin. f. ♡
⟿ You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.
"Love is a risk, but what's the alternative?"
༊*·˚ Burning in the winter wind | romcom vibes. (fake) enemies to lovers. f.
⟿ Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
when you're feeling sad changbin will do anything (being silly) to cheer you up.
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hwang hyunjin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ The snow falls, we fall apart | friends to lovers. roomates!au. a. f. longing and pining.
⟿ when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.
༊*·˚ Somebody else | exes to lovers. a. miscommunication. happy ending.
⟿ You and Hyunjin have broken up, guilt and blame simmering between you both. He doesn't care anymore, or so he thought. Then why does it hurt him to see you with someone else?
"Don't want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else."
༊*·˚ You're in the wind, I'm in the water (pt.1) | friends to lovers. pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw)
༊*·˚ Orange (pt.2) | f. my take on The Orange theory.
༊*·˚ Young and beautiful | f.
⟿ How you both said i love you for the first time.
༊*·˚ Snow on the beach | f. implied soulmates.
⟿ You've never said i love you to Hyunjin but you've both always known.
༊*·˚ Say yes to heaven | a. f. (pt. 1)
⟿ Seven minutes in heaven except you're heartbroken and hyunjin has a huge crush on you.
༊*·˚ Say yes to me | f. (pt. 2) ♡
⟿ After your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.
༊*·˚ When I fell in love | f.
⟿ It's your birthday and Hyunjin has a surprise gift for you- all the moments he fell in love with you in.
༊*·˚ You and I | a. happy ending.
⟿ In which you wrongly lash out at Hyunjin and have to mend it back. Human character who makes mistakes and apologizes for them.
༊*·˚ Conversations with Hyunjin | f.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ serenity.
༊*·˚ mornings with hyunjin.
༊*·˚ nights with hyunjin.
༊*·˚ hyunjin and touch starved reader.
༊*·˚ you've had a nightmare and Hyunjin sings you to sleep while it's raining.
༊*·˚ in which you're in love with hyunjin and you're both swimming in a lake.
༊*·˚ hyunjin with glasses and a tiny ponytail brainrot.
༊*·˚ hyunjin is your friend except you're making out in his car backseat.
༊*·˚ your reaction to hyunjin's new burgundy hair.
༊*·˚ valentine’s with hyunjin.
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han jisung.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ Volcano | Enemies to lovers. slow burn. f. a.
⟿ You've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.
"I'll take care of you. It's terrible work. Not to me, not if it's you."
༊*·˚ 5422 | a. f.
⟿ Your morning after a fight with Han.
༊*·˚ Backburner | Exes who can't move on. a.
⟿ It's been seven weeks since Han broke up with you. And yet he's still calling you, every saturday night, without fault. And even though you try not to, you still pick up each time.
"You'd think I'd be a fast learner. But guess I won't ever mind crisping up in your backburner."
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lee felix.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ If the world was ending | estranged childhood best friends to lovers. a. f.
⟿ Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old. Until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.
"If the world was ending you'd come over, right?"
༊*·˚ Scream! | f. h/c.
⟿ When you are overwhelmed by the stress of your studies, your boyfriend Felix will do anything to cheer you up.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ red lollipop.
༊*·˚ you apply lip gloss on felix but it takes an emotional turn because he's too pretty.
༊*·˚ cooking with felix.
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kim seungmin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ In my dreams | (Fake) enemies to lovers. a. h/c. slow burn. ♡
⟿ Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.
"I'm sorry that I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away."
༊*·˚ Photobooth | f.
⟿ Your first date with seungmin, except he pretends he's confident when he's just as nervous as you.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ seungmin's silent comfort.
༊*·˚ when you realize you don't have to be perfect around seungmin.
༊*·˚ enemies to lovers (for a night) with seungmin.
༊*·˚ seungmin thinks you’re the prettiest at your most ordinary.
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yang jeongin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ You're sexy I'm sexy | friends to lovers. fluff and tension.
⟿ Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.
"It could be simple as loving on each other with no strings."
༊*·˚ Please fall before I fall | best friends to lovers. mutual pining but they think it's unrequited love.
⟿ 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ jeongin when you are sad and don't know why.
༊*·˚ jeongin's duality.
1K notes · View notes
55sturn · 2 months
Text
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ I WAS BLIND TO SEE
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↳ masterlist!
↳ summary: in which y/n spent years begging chris to let her into his heart, but he was unrelenting, so eventually she gave up. but after years of her pining helplessly, chris realizes that he grew to love her back and races against the clock to get her back.
↳ pairings: chris sturniolo × female!reader
↳ warning: swearing, lowkey toxic!chris, angst for like majority of the fic, oblivious!reader, oblivious!chris, mentions of alcohol, justin’s lowkey a dick, chris is a literal fucking dumbass, i love the whole “idiots in love” trope.
↳ important things to note: this is based off of infrunami by steve lacy. also not proofread at all. oops.
THIRD PERSON POV
it was no shocker to find out how deep y/n's love for chris ran, after all she had been in love with him since they were sophmores in high school. she loved every single thing there was to love about him, and the less lovable things, she understood where they stemmed from.
she had a very deep connection with him, they had been the closet out of him, his brothers, and her. he could turn to her for anything, and vice versa. however, there was one issue.
chris didn't reciprocate the love she felt. he expressed numerous times to anyone who asked, that she was his best friend, nothing more. he saw her as the female extension of him and his brothers.
the only person he couldn't tell that to though, was her. so instead of letting her down easy, he ignored it. and that caused more problems than he saw coming. because of his naturally flirty nature, it filled the girl with false hope, it led her to believe that maybe her feelings were returned.
no one was able prepare for the inevitable fallout that occurred when chris' feelings, or lack thereof, came to light.
FLASHBACK
chris was sitting at his desk when nick knocked on his door, he welcomed him into his room with a barely discernible "come in."
"chris we gotta talk." nick muttered, standing in the doorway with his arms folded and a frustrated look on his face.
"what's up?" chris sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned in his gaming chair to face the older triplet.
"you need to tell y/n about the way you feel, well the way you don't feel."
"why? it's not like i'm hurting her." chris scoffed, not really wanting to break his best friend's heart.
"chris, she literally just spent an hour talking to me on facetime about how she wants to confess her feelings to you directly because instead of being honest, you're playing into her feelings! i can't keep giving her advice and getting her hopes up knowing that you are just going to crush her."
"whatever nick, i'll talk to her later."
and so, when y/n came by later that day, she gathered the nerve to tell chris with a shaky breath and unsteady hands.
"chris can we talk?"
"yeah what's up?" chris hummed, knowing very well where this was going, and despite the fact that he was just about to break her heart, he felt some sort of twisted pride stir in his chest. he liked knowing that someone so close to him was pining for him, it made him feel powerful, and he hated that it made him feel that way. it truly disgusted him.
"i know this probably isn't a secret by any means but i've got feelings for you. like 'i'm in love with you' feelings and i don't know if i've been reading into things too much or if i've read into them correctly but it seems like you return them, or at least act like you do and if that's the case, i'm glad i told you. and if i've read them completely wrong, i'm about to feel like the biggest fool possible." y/n rambled, breathing out a nervous laugh as chris' eyes bore into hers.
"listen y/n, you're a great girl. any guy would be lucky to be loved by you the way you love me but i'm sorry, i don't see you that way. i know i've fed into your feelings and your flirting, and it makes me feel like such a jackass but i didn't know how to tell you and i really didn't want to break your heart. you're my best friend and i would give anything to return your feelings but i don't and it wouldn't be fair for me to pretend i do." chris whispered, his heart tearing in two as he watched the hurt and horror flash in her eyes as she realized that she had read everything wrong. his arms slowly slid around her shoulders, pulling in her into him, or at least in attempt to.
"no. you don't get to hug me after you just admitted that you played with my feelings. you literally just contradicted yourself, the fuck do you mean 'it wouldn't be fair to pretend to return your feelings." that's exactly what you did! god this was a mistake." she spat, turning on her heels and making her way up the stairs leading from chris' room. she grabbed her jacket off the back of one of the dining room chairs and left without so much as a word.
and that was the last that chris had heard from her until they ended up back in boston at the same time.
FLASHBACK OVER
y/n sighed as she made her up the sturniolos' driveway. her family had agreed to a huge family dinner with the triplets' family and she was dreading having to see chris. she was on perfectly fine terms with nick and matt, they had actually grown closer. y/n just refused to be an active presence and figure in chris' life. whenever she wanted to hang out, it’d be away from their house. away from chris.
knocking on the door, a small smile pulled at her lips. she missed mary-lou and jimmy, she hadn't had much time to see them since going back home, she had just been busy with other things, and the fact that she was slightly avoiding them because she had a feeling chris or one of his brothers told them about what had happened.
"y/n! my sweet girl i've missed you." mary-lou cooed as she opened the door, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"i've missed you too, i'm sorry i haven't come by yet, i've been busy." the girl pouted slightly, feelings guilty for staying away for as long as she had.
"busy ignoring a certain boy of mine?" the older woman teased gently, being fully aware of what had gone down and her heart hurt for the young girl. she knew what chris felt, she could see in his eyes when he spoke about his former best friend, a mother always knows. she also knows that chris just hasn't been made aware of the fact that he feels the same as y/n once did.
as mary-lou led y/n up the stairs and into the dining room where the sturniolos' and y/n's parents sat, y/n felt her chest grow tight as all eyes, including chris' fell on her.
"hey everyone, sorry i'm late." she laughed, returning the hug that jimmy pulled her into as he stood up.
"don't worry about it, we're just glad you showed up." jim smiled down at her as she took her place between justin and her mother, unfortunately across from chris.
chris' forced his gaze to his lap as he fiddled with his fingers, ever since the night he turned her down, a strange feeling had been stirring and beating relentlessly in the pit of his stomach, he almost felt like he had made a mistake rejecting her.
as the dinner went on, chris was determined to meet her gaze but she was just as determined to not look at him, in fear that she would crumple into a sobbing wreck. she tried to move on but it was hard when he had already held her heart for so long. she feared that she would never love someone the way she loved and still deep down, loves him.
after the dinner had finished, the adults gathered in the living room, talking about shit their kids didn't care about or had heard a million times already, so the rest of them moved to the deck, all claiming a chair as their own while justin grabbed a beer for all of them.
"so mousey, whatcha been up to, like really? seeing anybody?" justin hums, watching the twenty year old girl that he considered his baby sister shift awkwardly in her chair.
"quit calling me that." y/n groans, rolling her eyes at the nickname that justin had given her back when she was in elementary school, she was so quiet compared to his brothers that he referred to her as a mouse which led to him branding her "mousey."
"and before you ask again, i've seen a couple guys here and there but nothing really stuck.” she sighs, taking a sip of her beer as justin lods, kissing his teeth with a teasing smirk on his face.
“what about you chris?”
“justin don’t.” chris warns, glaring at his older brother as he sees through justin’s plan. justin is fully convinced that chris is in love with y/n, someone just has to spell it out for him. matt and nick both look at each other with wide eyes as they clue into what justin is trying to do.
y/n scoffs, sliding her beer across the table with a roll of her eyes before she stands up,
“you’re a dick.”
“y/n wait.” chris calls out, jogging after as she makes her away around the house to her car, shaking her head as she walks away.
“what do you want chris?” she sighs, turning to face him and look at him, really look at him for the first time that night.
“i’m sorry about justin, he’s convinced that i’m running from my feelings or some shit and he’s trying to make me see that.”
“that’s nice chris. you know, i came here tonight thinking that it’’d be easy to see you after how many months but no, it’s been just as hard as the night you broke my heart. it’s hard because i miss you, so fucking much but i can’t get over you. and i can’t get over you hurting me, whether you meant to or not.”
“i miss you too, y/n. come back please.” chris whispers, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he stares at the girl he called his best friend.
“no. i don’t think you do. you miss the me that would follow you around like a lost puppy and feed your ego with all the attention i gave you. you miss the love i gave you because you didn’t have to search anywhere else for it. i was some sort of fall back for you. and if i stuck around after you broke my heart to hear you say that you loved me, knowing it wasn’t the same way that i love you, it would’ve killed me chris.”
“i’m sorry, i really am. i just miss my best friend.”
“i stopped being your best friend long before i confessed my feelings to you.” she whispers, the raw emotion she felt as she recounted how things changed evident in her voice, lea chris confused by what she meant.
“what?”
“you stopped seeing me as your best friend quite a while ago. you started seeing me as this your could always count on to boost your ego, to fill your head with this idea that you were a god, that you were the center of my universe. you stopped treating me like your best friend and started treating me like i was a fucking groupie, chris. you stopped remembering important things i told you about myself, you got me a copy of a book that i couldn’t stand, that you knew i couldn’t stand because when i first told you about, you laughed at how insane i sounded. and you said it was for my birthday, but my birthday was three weeks before that. you started only paying attention to things i said that made you feel good, and i thought that if i’d dismiss it and pretend that it wasn’t happening, that it’d go away. i figured you were just sorting out your feelings. but no, you were playing me.”
“that’s not tr-“
“yes it is. i excused it by convincing myself you were busy. that you were stressed. but in reality, you stopped giving a fuck about me and only gave a fuck about the attention i paid you, and now that it’s gone, you feel lost and helpless. so no, you don’t miss me.” she replies, her voice slowly becoming void of all emotion, as if she had accepted what had happened and moved to face her car, before turning back to him.
“for what it’s worth, i miss my best friend too, but when i look at you now, i don’t see him. i see a person who looks like him, but is completely different. and justin is right, you’re running from your feelings but i don’t think they’re feelings for me. i love you, always have, always will. i wish i could say that you love me too, but i don’t think you do.”
chris watches her car back out of the driveway and speed down the street with his heart in his hands, forced to grapple with just how badly he hurt her.
months had passed and chris was still completely shut out of y/n’s life, and it left a bitter and extremely hard pill for chris to swallow. he knew he fucked up and he knew asking her for forgiveness was an insane ask but he missed her.
and not the attention she gave him. he missed her. her warmth, the fuzzy feeling in his chest that she gave him when he’d crack a joke and look around to see if she found it funny. he missed the way he could non-verbally communicate with her the way he can with his brothers. all he’d have to do is send her a look and she’d know what he was thinking. he missed her hugs and the way she could comfort him in a split second. he missed the person that knew him better than he knew himself, and he missed the girl that he knew better than anyone.
everyone around chris knew what was happening, they saw it in the way he’d sulk whenever nick mentioned some guy she was trying to date. or the way his eyes would soften at the mention of her and matt hanging out before his face would fall when matt says they’re going out to some random place to hang out. in the way chris’ eyes would brighten when he saw something that reminded him of her or her favourite movie showed up on the netflix previews.
everyone around chris knew that he wasn’t just homesick for his favourite person, he was lovesick too. they could see the gears turning in his head and heart, that he was slowly starting to openly show his love for her, the same love she felt for him. chris was guarded and haunted by girls that have hurt him, they knew he closed off his heart to anything but familial and platonic love, so when genuine, deep romantic feelings started blooming in his chest like the flowers in spring, he didn’t know what they were. he always thought it was platonic love for his best friend, but everyone could see it was more.
everyone but chris. until the day he saw his feelings for what they really were.
FLASHBACK
chris walked upstairs, halting halfway up to text his friend back as he half listened to nick and matt’s shared conversation, not really care until he hears a sentence that left a sour taste in his mouth.
“y/n wants to ask brendon to be her boyfriend. she thinks it could go well.”
“is she over chris?”
“not really but she wants to try and move on.”
chris rolled his eyes and stomped up the rest of the stairs, not understanding why there was such an angry feeling building in his chest like a fire rapidly consuming everything in its wake.
throughout the day, chris let his anger consume his every action, his every response, every single reaction he has to anything. it was pissing his brothers off because they had no clue why he was angry. until nick pieced it together.
“you heard our conversation about y/n didn’t you? that’s when you started acting a like a dick to everyone and everything.”
“whatever nick it doesn’t matter.”
“you’re fucking jealous, aren’t you?”
“who gives a fuck if i am?”
“why are you jealous if you don’t see her that way?” nick pressed, a smug grin on his face as he pushed the youngest triplet, itching to get the long awaited confession out of chris.
“i’m not jealous.”
“right because if you were, that would mean you actually feel the same way y/n does. which would also mean that literally everyone else in the world was right about you from the fucking get-go.” matt snickered, finding joy in teasing chris for being a complete and utter dumbass for so long.
“oh my god, you’re right. is that what you wanna hear? that i’ve been a complete jackass to her for no reason? that i do feel the same and that everyone is right? that i have no reason to feel the way i do at the thought of her being with another guy? cause if so, there you fucking go.” chris snapped, yelling and cursing out his brothers with misplaced anger.
matt just laughed as he quickly merged into the turning lane, taking chris to y/n’s apartment.
“you know what you need to do.”
FLASHBACK OVER
chris sighs as he raises his fist to the door, his entire body vibrating. his nerves were on fire, he had absolutely no clue how to go about what he was about to do. he didn’t even know if it was a good idea.
as he drops his fist back to his side, the door opens, travelling y/n standing on the other side, her hair tucked beneath her hoodie, the one that chris had gotten her gotten the prior year for christmas because the colour looked pretty on her. chris felt his breath get stuck in his throat and his heart rate quicken as he met her eyes.
“chris what the fuck are you doing here?”
“i know you think i don’t love you.” chris starts, pushing his way into her apartment as she watches him, confused etched along her features as her brows knit together.
“okay, and?”
“and i know you think i stopped paying attention to you. but you’re wrong. you are all i think about, every second of every fucking day, you are running through my mind on a loop. i only ever think about the way you love cheesy chick flicks but will never say it out loud because you don’t want to be made fun of or the way you hate when people dog-ear the pages in their books because it ruins the quality. i only ever think about how much you miss boston in the summer because it’s the perfect temperature, but you hate it in the winter because you hate snow. or how you stop to pet every animal you see just so they know what it’s like to feel a loving touch. or how you refuse to wear anything in your favourite colour because you’re scared of attaching bad memories to it and hating the colour because it’s been your favourite since you were seven. or how feel bad when you don’t give the squishmallows on your bed equal attention because you believe they can feel things. or the fact that your favourite movie is coraline because you relate her deeply but will never your mom that in fear of breaking her heart. or the fact you never once deserved to be treated the way you were by me because i couldn’t see my feelings for what they were.” chris rambles, taking a deep breath as he looks at her, her mouth open as she prepares to speak but chris cuts her off,
“i know that you won’t be able to believe me right away, but i want to prove to you that i love you. it took me a long time to realize it because i’m a fucking idiot. i always have been but this love has been here since the moment i met you, i just confused it for something platonic when it was and is so much more than that. so please hear me out and don’t ask that guy to be your boyfriend, ask me. i want to be the one to love you for the rest of your life. i know i’ve fucked up, i will spend forever and a day trying to make up for it. i know i’m late but please, just give me one more chance.”
“okay.” she whispers, her eyes watering as she finally gets to hear everything she’s ever wanted chris to say. chris smiles, looping his fingers in the edges of hoodie pocket as he tugs her forward, pressing his lips to her so feverishly that he’s sure his lips will bruise but he’s scared to waste another moment, that when he opens his eyes this will all just be some sick and twisted dream. but when he pulls away and opens his eyes, he’s met with the reality that she’s there, her hands cradling his face as she wipes away the tears he didn’t even know existed before pressing another kiss to his lips.
“i’ve always been right in front of you chris, i’m just glad you finally opened your eyes.”
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2chopsticks2eyes · 1 year
Text
Obsession
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2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist
Pairing:
Bang Chan x Fem Reader
Hwang Hyunjin x Fem Reader
Themes: Smut, Pining
Word Count: ~6k | AO3
Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Cussing, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Sex, Cum Eating, Pining, Protected Sex, Ambiguous/Open Ending
Summary: You find out that this new guy you are going to start dating, Chris, is your best friend's new roommate. You are excited, but your best friend, Hyunjin (who may or may not be madly in love with you) is not so thrilled. Chris notices this and the two men settle on some sort of... agreement.
Author's Note: This work was inspired by a request from @stayandot8. I think this might be the shortest fic I've written, but I promise I put my heart into it! 💖 Proofread was only skimmed over so I hope it isn't trash. 🙃
__________________________________________
Hyunjin had been your best friend for what felt like ages. However, in reality, you two only met a couple of years ago when you started teaching with him at an art studio. You bonded with him over your shared affinity with fine arts and it was the most natural friendship you had ever experienced. You were just simply comfortable with one another.
Some might say a bit too comfortable. At least for a friendship between a boy and a girl.
Since you were co-workers, you spent most of your time with the man. You would have your meals with him, spent your days off with him, and even spent some nights at each other’s places if one of you was too lazy to go home for the night.
You don’t think that there was anything you wouldn’t be comfortable with around him. That’s what lead you to ask him to come shopping with you for your new date.
“How long have you even been talking to this guy?” He said as he stole your coffee from your hands while you strolled through the outlet mall, looking for a place to shop. He emptied the contents of the drink and tossed it into a nearby garbage bin.
“Just a few weeks, but we really clicked on Tinder and he agreed that he wasn’t just looking for a quick fuck.” You glanced in one of the windows of a shop and decided against it, continuing your walk with your bestie.
“And you’re sure he’s not some creep?” He glanced at you speculatively.
“I’m sure, you worry wart. Plus, if he is you know I can handle myself.” You bumped elbows with him and he rolled his eyes.
“Okay, okay fine. Just wanna look out for my girl.” He winked down at you and you scoffed. Always the biggest flirt, this guy. “What’s this guy’s name again? I think I tuned you out when you said it before.” He said nonchalantly.
“Yah!” You weakly smacked him on the arm, making him dramatically hold onto it as if you had shot him. “It’s Bang Chan, you pabo!” He immediately halted in his tracks, making you stop as well to raise an eyebrow at him. “Jin? Did you malfunction?” You shook his arm with a chuckle.
He stared down at you in disbelief. “Did you say Bang Chan?” He sounded as if you just told him that you were the Queen of England and you giggled.
“Uhhh yeah? He also goes by Chris. Why? Wait–” Your tone quickly changed into one of exasperation. “Hyunjin, please don’t tell me you went to a fortune teller again. Did they ward you away from any ‘Bang’ family names or something? I told you to stop going after what happened last time!” You scolded, memory flashing back to when he only wore white 24/7 because it was ‘guaranteed to bring him great wealth’. You had to help him with his laundry for weeks because he couldn’t stop getting stains on everything he wore.
“No, no, no. What does this guy look like?” He looked almost panicked now and you started to become concerned.
“Ummm, well… He’s a bit shorter than you. Super muscular with broad shoulders. A super bright smile and dimples that I just want to swim in…” You started to sound wistful as you described the dreamy beefcake. “Oh and don’t even get me started on his di–”
“Oh god, Aegiya, STOP.” The man sounded disgusted and you doubled over laughing. You were only a year younger than him and he just had to milk it by always calling you a baby.
“Dude, what’s the deal?” You finally wondered.
He huffed and continued walking, annoyance written all over his features as he stared straight forward. “Well, apparently it appears that your new boy toy also happens to be the new roommate I got last week…” He grumbled and now it was time for you to stop in your tracks.
“What??” To say the least, you were pretty surprised.
He just continued to walk and you scurried over to catch up to him. “Yyyyep. Congrats. I now get to help you plan for your date with my fucking roommate.” He sounded super put out and you cackled at him.
“Are you fucking kidding me?! That’s fucking hilarious!” After a moment of your chortling, your brain cut you off short when you felt a lightbulb blink to life. “Oh my god, Jinnie! You have to tell me about him! Do you think he’s into more of a wild girl, or a shy one? Does he cook? Clean? What kind of music does he–”
“Hey little lady, you probably know more about him than I do. Like I said, he just recently moved in.” You gave him puppy dog eyes and he glanced over at you momentarily, quickly looking straight forward again with a disbelieving huff. “All I can tell you is that he produces music, he constantly works on it day in and day out as if his life depends on it. I’m surprised he even found the time to date.”
You smiled to yourself. He made time for me? As if fate had heard your conversation, the two of you started getting nearer to the perfect store. “Let’s go in here, Jinnie!” You grabbed his arm to pull him in, but he was as firm as a statue.
“Nuh-uh. Nooo way am I going into a sex shop with you to help you bone my fucking roommate. You’re nuts.” He looked at you as if you had grown two heads.
“Awww c’mon, Jinnie, pleeease? I need the male objective’s eye! I don’t want to go in alone!” You grabbed onto his hand and looped your fingers to intertwine with his. “Please…” You donned your cutest pout and squeezed his hand.
His brows furrowed and he looked like he was having a genuine internal battle. “Damnit, Aegiya…” He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “You’d better make this quick. AND you owe me a shit ton of ice cream after this…”
A smile burst out across your face and you threw your arms around his shoulders, giggling like a school girl. “Ahhh! Thankyouthankyouthankyou, Jinnie! This is why I love you!” When you pulled back from the embrace, he looked annoyed, but you could definitely see a rosy color dusted across his cheeks and a deep red bloom on the tips of his ears.
You intertwined fingers again and dragged him into the store.
You felt like a kid in a candy store, finding set after set of lingerie and handing it to Hyunjin to hold onto. “Okay, I think we’ve accumulated enough, little Miss Pamela Anderson!” He shouted at you from behind the pile he had stacked in his arms.
You giggled at his drowning appearance and led him to the changing rooms where you sat him down on the bench just outside the door. “Wait here, I’m gonna try them on!” You grabbed the first set from his arms and skipped off to try it on.
You struggled a bit on the first one just because it was so intricate, but you ended up figuring it out. It had crossed your mind that it might feel a bit weird for some girls to show their male best friend themselves wearing lingerie, but, again, you were just so comfortable with Hyunjin that you didn’t think twice.
“Jin, I think this might be a bit much, what do you think?” You said as you opened the door to show him.
At first, he wasn’t really paying attention, just mindlessly scrolling away on his phone. However, when he looked up, the phone clattered to the ground, which he quickly retrieved while clearing his throat for some reason. “Uh– I– Um, it looks– uh… good? I guess?” He said, desperately avoiding eye contact with you.
“Yeah, but look–” You turned around to show him the backside that looked like a damned jungle of straps, buckles, and latches. “Doesn’t this seem too complicated?” When you looked at him again, his whole head and neck were a deep crimson as he zoned out on your ass. “Jinnie?”
He quickly snapped out of it and his eyes darted anywhere and everywhere away from you. “U-Uh yeah– y-yeah…” 
You figured you didn’t want it to be too hard to get out of because that’s just not sexy if you have to struggle in the moment. You just shrugged. “Okay, then. Next!” You grabbed the next piece off the pile and shut yourself back into the changing room.
You repeated this several times, you put on the next set after the next set, continuing to ask Hyunjin for his input until you slipped on the final piece.
It was perfect. A completely black (which you knew Chris liked) bustier with mesh, lace fabric woven over the spines of the top. Complete with a garter belt and crotchless panties. All you needed were some stockings and it would be perfect.
However, you obviously couldn’t show these to Hyunjin, they were crotchless! And contrary to popular belief, you did have some standards. Anyway, you knew it was perfect with or without his opinion.
You quickly changed back into your clothes and stepped out, items in hand and ready to be purchased. “This is the one! Ready to go?”
Instead of a grumble with a remark like ‘finally’ or something equally as chafing coming from his mouth, you were surprised to hear him say– “What? That’s it? But you didn’t…” He stopped mid-sentence and blushed.
“I couldn’t show you this one, Jin. It was a bit much, even for you. But, trust me, you would have loved it.” You said enthusiastically as you walked to the checkout counter.
He just simply replied with– “Oh… okay…” And was suspiciously silent for the rest of the day.
- - - - - - - - - - 
Jinnie 🥟🍦:
Ur date is tonight right?
Aegiya ❣🎨:
?Yeah, why
?Omg did he say something
?Did he ask u abt me
?He’s not calling it off is he
As much as Hyunjin wanted to lie and say yes, he wouldn’t do that to you.
Jinnie 🥟🍦:
No no, I was just checking
Was thinking about going out tonight too
(He wasn’t)
Jinnie 🥟🍦:
Ya know, give u guys privacy
Aegiya ❣🎨:
Ur such a sweetheart, Jinnie
But I don’t want to kick u out of ur own home
We will probably go back to my place anyway
The thought gave Hyunjin a knot in the back of his throat.
Jinnie 🥟🍦:
Oh ok cool
Have fun
(He hoped you wouldn’t)
Aegiya ❣🎨:
😉 Will do
He grumbled at his phone and flopped onto his back on the bed. Ever since he met you, he knew you were special. However, since you were coworkers, apparently that meant he had a big ole ‘FRIENDZONE’ stamped on his forehead in red and he would never make it any further than #besties.
But it was fine. He was just happy to have you in his life because you were, in fact, a really cool person.
You had dated a few people here and there in the years since you two became friends and he obviously wasn’t a fan, but he was happy any time you were happy, so he stayed silent.
However, when he found out that you were going to date his freshly new roommate, he started to get a bit more agitated. What if you two really hit it off? Yes, you would be around a lot, but would you still come around for him? Or would you only want to come to see Chris? Not to mention the fact that he would have to listen to the man fucking you just down the hall!
Okay, maybe the idea of being within such proximity to you while you were moaning and whining and getting fucked silly might be a turn-on… even if it wasn’t him making you feel that way…
Ever since you took him shopping, it was like his horniness was amplified by ten and his mind was on a constant loop of images of you in that lingerie. Whatever caused you to feel the need to model them to Hyunjin, he didn’t know, but now the godforsaken thoughts plagued him day and night! 
Sometimes he even got a little pissed, thinking you were just stringing him along to tease him, but he would quickly come to his senses because in his heart he knew that you loved him. Even if it was just as a friend.
A knock on Hyunjin’s door disturbed him from his thoughts. Of course, the man of the hour would show up right in the middle of his very important brooding session. “Come in!” He shouted to his roommate.
The door opened and he was greeted with the bright smile of that damned Aussie. Hyunjin couldn’t even hate him and that pissed him off even more. Chris was just such a genuinely good guy. He could literally befriend anyone he wanted and he was super talented too. Hyunjin never had any self-esteem issues, he knew he was gorgeous, but the fact that Chris was the one to snatch you kind of hurt his pride.
“Hey, roomie! Whatcha doin?” He plopped down next to the younger on his bed.
“Just thinking of where I should go tonight. I’m not really interested in hearing…” The words were left unsaid, but Chris understood right away. 
Chris was pretty surprised when you told him that Hyunjin was your best friend, but he was also kind of happy that you were already so tight with his new roommate.
Although, when Chris talked to Hyunjin about the topic, he noticed that the taller man became a bit sullen any time your name was brought up. Chris could instantly tell that Hyunjin was in love with you.
He thought he should have maybe been pissed or concerned, but he wasn’t. He moreso felt sympathy for the young man. Yes, Chris was also incredibly smitten with you, but that only made him feel more sorry for the younger. Because he knew the effect you had on both of them.
He placed a gentle hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Hey, man, listen,” Chris said apologetically. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you like her. I’m not blind.”
Hyunjin shot up into a seated position. “W-what are you talking about? I’m not into her like that at all!” He himself knew he didn’t sound believable. “We’re just friends…”
Chris just sighed. “Okay, sure, but the statement still stands. You don’t have to leave our place on account of me. Me and her can go back to her place after.” Chris gnawed on his lip as if he was contemplating something and Hyunjin was intrigued. “Or…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We could still come over with you here…”
Hyunjin couldn’t lie to himself, he always wanted to hear what you would sound like in bed, but it just felt… wrong? “I dunno hyung… I don’t want to spoil your guys’ date.” Although it pained him to say it.
“Well that’s the thing, I don’t think you would.” Chris countered and Hyunjin just looked at him quizzically. “Okay, let me explain. So she told you we met on Tinder, right?” Hyunjin slowly nodded, not sure where he was going with this. “Well, we really started off talking about our… sexual preferences–” Hyunjin was certainly intrigued now. “And she had mentioned once that she always wanted to try a threesome…”
Hyunjin’s jaw dropped. “Oh…” He didn’t know what else to say. Where was Chris heading with this?
“Take it however you like, but just know that if you just so happened to be home and just so happened to walk in on us… I don’t think she would be opposed to some… company… if you get what I mean.” Chris hinted and Hyunjin was frozen on the spot.
“And you want that??” Hyunjin was flabbergasted.
Chris chuckled. “I mean, I know what it’s like to be friendzoned by a girl and I also know what it’s like to have bad blood between roommates. And I don’t want either of those things, so why not let her decide?” Chris was genuinely too good to be true. “And don’t think I don’t want her to myself, because, trust me, I do. But you are an important part of her life. It’s best that she knows how you feel before things get too serious.”
Hyunjin didn’t even know how to respond. Hell, he didn’t know how to think in that exact moment. All he could register was the word that came from his mouth. “Okay…”
- - - - - - - - - - 
Chris was a perfect gentleman, through and through. The dinner he took you to was delicious beyond reason and the conversations he led were the most engaging that you had ever experienced. Everything just felt so easy with him. Plus, the chemistry between the two of you was off the charts.
Small touches and lingering hands left you buzzing with need and you found yourself having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself. The only odd thing, not unwelcome, just odd, was the fact that he kept bringing up the topic of your best friend the whole night.
He wanted your opinion of him and what you thought of him. Some people might have thought it was out of jealousy, but he didn’t really give off the jealous vibe. He seemed to genuinely want to know what your relationship was like. And you loved your best friend, so you were happy enough to discuss him.
By the end of dinner, the sexual tension was suffocating and you just wanted to rip his clothes off then and there. When you hopped into the car and he started driving, you felt yourself shaking with anticipation when he rested his hand on your bare thigh where your little black dress was too short to cover.
You were super impatient to get back to your place, but as he kept driving, you realized he wasn’t heading in the direction of your apartment where he picked you up. “Hey Chris, do you know the way back to my place?” You turned to look at him to find him blushing. God, he’s cute.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I um… I was wondering if I could take you back to mine? I’m sorry it was a bit presumptuous of me, but I have a surprise for you…”
Electricity shot through you and you didn’t think twice to consider what you told Hyunjin. “Not presumptuous at all! I’m…” You blushed when he glanced at you with his stupidly sexy half-grin. “...looking forward to it.” Your eyes were glued to his face and you squeezed your thighs in arousal when he slid his hand a bit further up your thigh.
He looked over at you just as you bit your lip, your eyes hazy with lust. He bit his own lip to suppress a smile when he looked back at the road and you felt his hand slide to your inner thigh as his fingers closed in on your crotchless panties. Never touching, just teasing.
- - - - - - - - - - 
When you arrived at his and Hyunjin’s apartment, everything happened in a blur. As the front door closed behind you, you felt Chris’ hands wrap around your waist from behind and a warm press of lips close in on your neck. 
Chris was intoxicating, everything about him made you dizzy with want and you quickly spun around in his arms, throwing your arms around his neck and smashing into his lips with your own. He instantly pressed you up against the wall and you arched up into him, silently begging for more. His arms were wrapped low around your waist to pull you suffocatingly close and you kicked your black heels off when you wrapped your legs around his waist.
He responded by holding you up underneath your dress by both ass cheeks and he pressed his slowly hardening dick against you as he moved to devour your neck. He grinded into you and you threw your head back as far as the wall would allow you as you moaned his name.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He growled into your neck as he kneaded your ass with his fingertips. 
All you could reply with was– “Ngh, fuck, Chris. More. I need more...” Your voice was whiny and already fucked out, but by the low groan he breathed into your neck, he was very much in a similar state.
He pulled you back from the wall and carried you down the hall to his bedroom where he eagerly plopped both of you down on the bed. You writhed underneath him, trying to pull him impossibly closer as he moved to grope your breasts over your dress. You whined and pleaded for more and he complied.
He released one of your breasts and slid his hand down between your legs. What he felt (or really the lack of what he felt) made him gasp and look down at you incredulously. The crotchless panties were definitely a good choice. “Fuck…” He pounced on you with one long, hungry kiss and then released you to crawl down between your legs. 
The moment you felt his mouth close around your clit, you saw stars. You cried out with labored breaths and it took him no time at all to push you over the edge. You curled your fingers in his dark brown locks and he guided you through your orgasm, head popping up with a breathtaking smile when you came down. “Holy shit, Chris… that was probably the fastest anyone has ever got me to cum.” You giggled and you internally cooed when he blushed at the statement.
However, that was short-lived as the sex-god side of Chris returned and he ripped off his shirt and slacks, leaving him in just his boxers as he nestled back down to sit against the headboard. “C’mere, baby girl.” He patted his lap and you quickly crawled over to straddle him. His hands instantly flew to your hips and ass where your dress rode up.
Now was the moment you had been waiting for. You decided to cut to the chase and you grabbed the hem of your dress and slowly pulled it up over your head. When the fabric that was blinding you was finally pulled from your face, Chris’ expression was almost humorous. You felt his fingers gradually tighten more and more on your ass as he assessed your undergarments.
His face looked like he was in some sort of trance of crazed hunger and when he looked back into your eyes, you saw pure carnal desire. “What do you think? I got it just for you, Chris.” You said with hooded eyelids that ate up every inch of skin he had on display.
“What do I think?” His voice must have dropped about ten octaves and he harshly pulled you to directly sit on his achingly hard cock through his boxers. “I think you're a motherfucking goddess.”
He then proceeded to capture your lips once more in an absolutely filthy kiss, tongues clashing and teeth gnawing. You started grinding on his dick and he growled into your mouth, pulling away moments after you started.
“Do you want your surprise, baby girl?” He said as he guided your grinding hips with his hands. You were so fucked out that all you could do was nod your head profusely. He then turned to look at the door you had left open behind you. “Hyunjin-ah, would you like to come in?”
You immediately stilled and whipped your head around. You felt the hands on your hips tighten. “Jinnie?!” You were shocked. How long had he been watching??? By the completely beet-red face and the huge bulge in his pants, you would say it had been more than just a few moments.
You heard a shushing from the man underneath you and you turned back to him. He looked deep into your eyes and you felt him slowly glide his thumb over your sopping clit, making you gasp and your eyelids flutter. “I asked Hyunjinnie to help bring your fantasy to life.” You instantly knew he was talking about the threesome you had hinted at one time. “And he was more than willing to help out.”
You slowly turned back to your best friend that had taken a few steps further into the room. “Is that true, Jinnie?” You were mostly worried about his own comfort. 
He nodded with a hazy stare. “It’s not exactly how I pictured it happening… but yeah…” What did he mean by that? 
You didn’t have much time to think on it, however, because you suddenly felt Chris easing a finger inside you. You gasped and whipped back around to face him, your hands flying to his broad shoulders to ground yourself. 
“Do you mind if he watches while I fuck your pretty little hole first?” Your mouth was perpetually hung open as you nodded in compliance. “Good girl, now get on all fours, gorgeous.” He pulled his finger out of you and, before you did as you were told, you grabbed Chris’ hand and took his spunk-covered finger into your mouth. Both men groaned at the sight and you weren't ashamed to admit that you were feeling pretty proud of yourself. 
Once you released his digit and you turned to do what you were commanded to, you looked straight into Hyunjin’s eyes and crawled to where he was standing at the foot of the bed. Without warning, you grabbed him by his belt loops and pulled him flush to you where you stood on your knees on the bed. You could feel his erection push into your stomach and you felt a new wave of arousal stir in your core.
“We can talk about this later, but right now, I want this…” You deftly undid the top button of his shirt. “...and these…” You moved a hand down and palmed at his hard-on, making him gasp, then popped open the button on his jeans as well. You stretched up and brought his head down so you could whisper in his ear. “...gone.”
When you released him with a wicked smile and resumed your position on all fours like you were asked, Hyunjin quickly got to work on your request.
You suddenly felt a hand gently wrap around your neck to pull you up and back flush against Chris, his now bare cock resting between the cleft of your ass cheeks. “You think you can take all of me, sweetie?” He said as he grabbed your wrist with his free hand and lead you to feel his sizable dick. You almost choked on your gasp. Now, you knew Chris had a huge cock, you both had sent each other plenty of nudes these past weeks, but to feel it in your hand, it just didn’t feel real.
You tried to turn to look at it, but his hand on your neck kept you still and you whimpered. “Now, you have some options, baby girl. Either you take all of me now without seeing it first–” To be honest, that sounded pretty hot, but you were also dying to take a peek. “...OR, you can look all you want, but I’ll get off in that sweet mouth of yours instead while Hyunjinnie does whatever he wants with your tasty little cunt.”
You couldn’t control the pornographic moan that escaped your lips from the pure filth coming from his lips. You could see Hyunjin start to form a slight grin from watching this unfold and that in itself had you shaking with want. “B-but what if I want both?”
You could feel the rumble against your back coming from the depths of Chris’ chest from the question. “A greedy little one, are we?” You then felt yourself abruptly being pushed face-first into the mattress with your ass in the air. “Then I guess we’ll just have to give you all we’ve got…” Chris growled as you heard the tear of a condom wrapper open.
“J-just–!” You looked up at Hyunjin, as best as you could from your squished position, from his rushed outburst. “Just… don’t hurt her…” He sounded a bit hesitant to say it, but he looked down into your eyes with pure concern. Your heart soared.
“Jinnie…” You held up your hand and he crouched down next to your face. You crooked your neck up to whisper directly into his ear, loud enough for Chris to hear. “I want you to hurt me…”
He pulled back incredulously and his shocked eyes bore into yours. “Holy fuck, can you be any more perfect?”
“I know, right?” Chris said with a chuckle.
Everything that happened next all happened simultaneously. You felt Chris shimmying behind you and felt his warm breath fan over your folds. You felt him lick a long, fat stripe up your opening then felt him shimmy again to get into position. You felt the tip of his cock wedge its way into your entrance and you saw Hyunjin step back and finally drop his boxers to the floor.
Your. Jaw. Dropped.
Not only from the breathtaking feeling of Chris’ dick splitting you in two, but also at the mesmerizing sight of Hwang Hyunjin stripped bare with his beautiful, leaking cock in his hand. “Like what you see, Aegiya?” All you could do was nod dumbly with a red face that was struggling to adjust to Chris’ size.
You needed a distraction from the pain. You pulled yourself up on your hands and reached out to Hyunjin. “Wanna taste…” You whined pitifully.
He cockily smirked with his tongue prodding at his lip. “Anytime, baby.” You felt fire in your veins from his words and you felt in desperate need for more stimulation.
Just as you grabbed ahold of Hyunjin’s gorgeous cock, you pushed your ass back into Chris, shoving him even deeper inside you and the three of you moaned simultaneously.
You quickly started lapping up all of the precum that coated Hyunjin’s tip and he slowly tangled his hands in your hair. “You taste so good, Jinnie.” You said with fluttered lashes, right before you took his head all the way in.
“Fuck, Aegiya. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this…” That one statement blew your mind and you instantly looked back on your entire relationship. Hyunjin wanted me?
Again, you couldn’t think on it long, because Chris suddenly decided to start pistoning fast and hard into you, shoving you down onto Hyunjin’s cock even further. You held back your gag reflex and allowed yourself to bask in the eroticism of being used by these fucking drop-dead gorgeous men.
“Goddamn, baby girl. You’re doing so *ngh* fucking good for us *huff* …taking all this cock so fucking well.” Chris growled as he nailed you over and over again in all the right places. 
“Shit, Aegi. You’re so fucking sexy with your mouth around me *hiss* fuuuck you’re so damn good at that!” Hyunjin threw his head back with a laugh and it was one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen. “I can’t wait to taste you, baby.”
That’s what threw you over the edge, screaming as loud as you were able to with a throat full of cock. They both seemed to slow down as you rode your orgasm, but they were definitely not done with you yet.
Once you seemed to have come down from your high, Hyunjin spoke up. “Hyung…” There seemed to be some sort of silent communication going on because before you knew it, you were completely empty on both ends.
You slumped down on the mattress, your intense orgasm seemingly having taken the life out of you. Your eyes fluttered shut while you tried to regain control of your breathing and you felt someone sweetly petting your hair. “Did we wear you out for the night? Sorry, Aegiya…” Your eyes snapped open to see Hyunjin knelt down next to your head at the foot of the bed.
“N-no!” You grabbed onto his hand, pleadingly. “Not done! Need more… use me…” You were suddenly too cockdumb to form complete sentences, but what you did say made both men curse in tandem. Hyunjin smirked and quickly stood up.
The men grabbed each end of you and flipped you onto your back. Your vision was blurry with lust, but you could still clearly see that Chris had removed his condom and Hyunjin donned one now instead.
With one sharp tug, Hyunjin pulled you into position where his face hovered over your folds. You looked down at him right as he placed those plump lips against your throbbing clit in a torturous kiss. You whined at the damned tease and he smiled against your skin. 
He then went from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.
He began to you out as if his life depended on it and his long tongue reached even further inside you than you thought was possible. Your head craned back as you belted out a silent cry of pleasure. However, Chris used your open mouth to his advantage as he positioned himself at the foot of the bed and you finally caught a glimpse of his dick coming straight toward your mouth.
And HOLY FUCK was the man packing, or what?
There was no way in hell you were going to be able to deepthroat that monster! Yet you took him in your mouth nonetheless. You knew you still had a wicked tongue when it came to giving head. “Shit, baby girl. Your mouth really is magic.” Chris groaned.
You felt pride fill your smug little bubble, but you were soon preoccupied with your next orgasm rapidly approaching from the skilled tongue of Hyunjin. You whimpered on Chris’ massive cock and he moaned from the vibrations. Your orgasm was just as powerful as the last as you released all over your best friend’s face.
You heard a long hum come from the man between your legs. “You taste so good, Aegiya.” Hyunjin said once you were finished and he kissed his way up your body, only to stop to suck each nipple at a time into his mouth. Chris had started fucking your face shallowly and he was able to get painfully deep from this position. 
As you felt Hyunjin move up to suck on your neck, you felt his cock start to prod at your entrance. You were more eager than you thought you should be to feel him inside you, but when he absolutely slammed into you, you almost choked. Hyunjin was waaay longer than Chris and he reached spots inside you that no man had ever reached before.
You whimpered on Chris’ cock and you felt him start to stutter in his rhythm. “Fuck… M’cummin…” Sure enough, after a few more pumps, you felt hot ropes of his seed hit the back of your throat. You always had this really sick pleasure of cum eating and he thankfully spared you none.
More and more kept coming, and just when you didn’t think you could fit anymore, he finally finished and pulled out. You closed your eyes and hummed in bliss, sloshing the thick fluid around in your mouth before savoring every gulp to emptiness. You had realized that Hyunjin had stopped moving and you opened your eyes, offended that he would rob you of that delicious sensation he was giving you.
Yet when you opened your eyes, you found both men staring at you with shock on their faces. “Fuck, that’s gotta be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen…” Chris said with heavy breaths as he, too, was coming down from his high.
“Nasty, baby.” Hyunjin said with a smirk as he lowered himself down to hover just above your face. He looked apprehensive for a moment, seemingly searching your eyes as he slowly rocked into you with a steady rhythm and quick glances at your panting lips.
You decided to cut to the chase and you wrapped all your limbs around him, crashing him fully down onto your body and connecting your moistened lips. 
Well shit. Why did he have to be an amazing kisser too?
His pace picked up along with the hunger in his kiss and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of having your best friend fuck you senseless.
Although Hyunjin’s dick was beating your cervix to a pulp, the pain led you to yet another climax that you didn’t even think was possible. He pulled back and brought his hand up to thumb at your lips. “Get this wet for me, pretty?” You instantly sucked his finger in and his heavy-breathing, open mouth formed the sexiest fucking smile you had seen on him yet.
He retrieved the dripping digit and brought it down to your over-sensitive clit, almost instantly pushing you over the edge. Without further ado, Hyunjin also climaxed and he came with your name on his lips. Holy shit, you just fucked your best friend…
Things were hazy after he pulled out. 
First, you felt two pairs of hands strip you out of the uncomfortable lingerie and begin to wipe you down.
Next, you were easily repositioned under the covers to rest your head on a comfy pillow with the softest sheets you had ever felt. 
After that, things got quiet. You didn’t know why… but you suddenly felt… lonely.
You felt a kiss on your forehead and that’s when you forced your eyes open. You caught his hand as the man started to retreat. “Jinnie?” He returned to you with a sad smile.
“Yes? What is it, Aegiya?” You squeezed his hand tighter.
“Stay? Please?” He looked startled and he glanced at the man that had evidently crawled under the covers with you. You turned to Chris’ confused face and looped your other arm around his strong bicep. “Both of you?” You knew this would probably be weird in normal circumstances and you would have to address your feelings in the morning, but right now you just wanted to snuggle up to both of the men you adore inside and out. And, thankfully, they seemed to agree.
The rest is tomorrow’s problem.
__________________________________________
If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading!
This one is a spicy match!! Tbh I have no clue if I would be able to choose between the two... 😳
Please like, follow, and share! Thanks baby stays! 😘
2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist
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jisungsdaydreamer · 1 year
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Love Playlist | SERIES MASTERLIST
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»
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SYNOPSIS A sweet collection of skz college au stories inspired by bts tracks 💕 (3/8) complete; can be read as standalones, but the stories are all connected!
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CONTENTS
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1. UGH! (Bang Chan)
Release Date: June 2nd, 2023 Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader Genre: college au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, forced proximity Warnings: swearing, mc has autism, misogynistic behavior (not Bang Chan), implications of ableism, bullying, short panic attack description Synopsis: Despite what everyone thinks, Christopher Bang is definitely not perfect. At least, not to you. After the election for Student Council President ends in an exact tie, you and Chris both end up as co-presidents, to your horror. But even though Chris is literally the bane of your existence, you try to remain professional and do your best to communicate with him only when absolutely necessary. But when circumstances force you together, you learn that maybe you and Chris aren’t as different as you thought.
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2. MAKE IT RIGHT (Lee Know)
Release Date: July 24, 2023 Pairing: Lee Know x Fem!Reader Genre: college au, fluff, exes to lovers, angst Warnings: swearing, messy break-up, mc has a fear of the dark, mild haunted house/Halloween descriptions Synopsis: You and Minho are the “golden couple” of your university. Well, you were. After letting the pressures of college life get in the way of your relationship, you end in a messy breakup. However, you both share a lot of friends and it’s impossible to avoid each other, so you both ignore your lingering feelings for each other. But love works in strange ways, and now yours needs to be made right.
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3. FAKE LOVE (Changbin)
Release Date: TBD Pairing: Changbin x Fem!Reader Genre: college au, fluff, fake dating, friends to lovers Warnings: TBA Synopsis: Growing up, you were always the black sheep of your family. You were never cute enough, or nice enough, or smart enough, and constantly singled out. Your family’s increased pressure on you to be better caused an uneasy rift between you. However, when you are invited to attend your sister’s wedding, you know you will never hear the end of it from your relatives if they find out you are still single. So, you end up taking your friend, Changbin, and he will pretend to be your date. But maybe your feelings for each other are not so fake after all…
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4. BUTTERFLY (Hyunjin)
Release Date: TBD Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader Genre: college au, fluff, strangers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort Warnings: TBA Synopsis: After a heart-fluttering encounter with an enigmatic boy at a friend’s party, you let go of your reservations and your friends’ warnings to pursue him. Hyunjin may seem like a charismatic, humorous person, but when with you, he literally and metaphorically draws stars around your scars. But such a passionate love at such a young age can be fleeting, like a butterfly. Is it worth the risk?
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5. HOME (Han)
Release Date: May 7th, 2023 Pairing: Han x Fem!Reader Genre: college au, fluff, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining Warnings: mild swearing Synopsis: Jisung. Your roommate. Your best friend. The person you call when you need a ride home. The person who brings you ice cream when you’re sad. The person who you tried not to like, but failed anyway. So you bury your feelings. When the stress of impending exams doubles down, both you and Han must lean on each other even more to get through. But on one fateful night, everything changes.
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6. BLACK SWAN (Felix)
Release Date: TBD Pairing: Felix x Fem!Reader Genre: college au, fluff, angst, grumpy/sunshine Warnings: TBA Synopsis: Felix is everything you’re not: happy, sociable, optimistic. You’re everything Felix isn’t: grumpy, quiet, pessimistic. You aren’t a bad person, but it’s the circumstances that you face that keep you from enjoying your life, and Felix is a constant reminder of what you don’t and can’t have. When your troubles reach a climax, Felix resolves to help you, and no amount of sassy comments or eye-rolls will deter him.
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7. COFFEE (Seungmin)
Release Date: TBD Pairing: Seungmin x Fem!Reader Genre: college au, fluff, strangers to lovers Warnings: TBA Synopsis: Seungmin has never been a relationship person. And no, not even of the casual kind. He prefers independence, getting through college while working at his family’s coffee shop. One day, he’ll inherit the café and finally be able to thrive on his passion, but until then, he’ll keep his head down and work. His plans are thrown off when you breeze into the shop. His heart hurts watching you get stood up on every single date, but there is no way he’s smitten. It’s just customary to spend an extra ten minutes during the morning rush trying to pipe a creamer heart onto your coffee.
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8. BOY IN LUV (I.N)
Release Date: TBD Pairings: I.N x Fem!Reader Genre: college au, fluff, unrequited love Warnings: TBA Synopsis: Of course on the one night you let loose, at your best friend’s birthday party, you get too tipsy and end up kissing Jeongin, the guy who sits behind you in your chemistry class. And what makes it worse? You know he has a crush on you, and you definitely do not reciprocate. But no matter how many times you reject him afterwards, Jeongin insists you have feelings for him. But there is no universe where you would have feelings for Yang Jeongin, or his gorgeous smile.
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TAGLIST @chansburgah @hee0soo @hamburgers101 @ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98 @ohish @anyamaris @chizumiyoshi @lilydaisyyy @lollloll9090 @jetblackbelle
If you’d like to join my taglist, click here!
♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡
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📢 ©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. My only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.
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ilovepedro · 6 months
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Deja Vú | javier pena x f!reader
Series masterlist | Main masterlist
Chapter 2 - ‘Cause in my mind I want you here
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Chapter summary: After a long day, you schedule your date with Chris. The next day, you decide you need a distraction: shopping. While shopping for something suitable for your upcoming date, strange coincidences occur throughout the day, including an encounter with Cassandra and Javier.
Chapter warnings: reader has some bouts of deja vu (hehehe), reader spirals a lot in this chapter, flirting, no smut (stay with me now!), miscommunication trope, encounter with Cassandra, encounter with Javi, angst, mutual pining, Javi is still a stupid, oblivious asshole because he's a man, reader speaks and understands Spanish, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, translations available at end of chapter.
Word count: ~3.1k
A/N: i know, still no smut, but bear with me! i promise the third and final chapter will be smut galore! i just have to set the story up so they can have narsty, in-love, makeup sex :P not beta’d, all mistakes are my own
Divider by @saradika
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You reach your apartment building again, wheeling your cart down through the lobby and to the stairs. Exhaustion creeps up on you as you replay all the events from today in your head, every emotion racing through your mind. You stop yourself before you can spiral, reminding yourself of Chris - eager to have a better night.
Arriving at your door, you unlock it and lug all your groceries inside. You quickly put everything away and head into the bathroom. You turn the shower on and twist the knob to the hottest setting, stripping down while it heats up. Entering the shower, you bask in the scalding water as it washes off the events of this shitty day. Stepping out of the shower, you wrap yourself in your towel and apply your skincare. Feeling refreshed, you saunter into your bedroom. Normally, you slip on a t-shirt Javi’s left behind, but that’s out of the question.
Sporting a tank top and sleep shorts, you walk into the kitchen and pour yourself a healthy glass of wine. The bottle already opened from sharing it with Javi two days ago on Sunday before hooking up. With all the strength in your being, you push past the urge to spiral. Downing the wine, you refill your glass to the brim - you deserve it.
As you whip around to settle on the couch with your wine and a movie, your phone rings. You roll your eyes, not in the mood to talk to anybody, and sigh as you pick up the phone. “Hello?” Your voice is monotonous and blasé. “Hi. This is Chris Feistl, from the market earlier.” Your eyes go wide at the sound of his voice.
“Oh hi! I’m so sorry if I sounded rude just now! Long day,” you mutter apologetically. “No worries. Trust me, I get it,” he says. “So… were you thinking of me the rest of the day?” You playfully tease, a real grin on your face now. “I sure was, if I’m honestly speaking. You’re just really beautiful and I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he confidently says. 
Heat courses through your veins as you grow flustered from his boldness. It feels nice to be truly wanted, however you can’t help but feel a little guilty for not thinking of him for the majority of the day. Having mostly served as a distraction from Javi. “Hello? You still there?” Chris’ voice pulls you out of your trance. You’ve got to stop spacing out.
“Hi! Yes, sorry, I’m here,” you meekly say. “Sorry, did I come on too strong?” You can hear the confidence waver in his voice. “No, no! Not at all, you’re very charming. I’m just not used to being flirted with so openly,” you tell him earnestly. “Well, hopefully I can change that. A beautiful woman like you deserves to be showed off,” he says, confidence returning to his voice now. 
You smile at his sweetness. “You’re too kind,” feeling bashful. “Are you free on Friday night? I’d love to show you off a bit, if that’s alright with you,” His smile is evident over the phone. “I am free on Friday, and that’s more than alright with me,” you say, biting back your bottom lip. “Awesome. Would you like to have dinner with me? I could either pick you up at 8 or have a car sent to you? Or we could just meet there, whatever you’re comfortable with,” he asks, rambling a bit. “Send a car? Oh, you’re fancy, huh? You didn’t tell me you were rich,” you tease. He barks out a laugh. “No, I’m not rich. My job just provides transportation, so it’s an option if you’d like,” he says through his laughter.
“I’m just messing with you, but I’d love to have dinner with you. And how about I meet you at the restaurant? Then, we’ll see where the night takes us. Who knows… maybe you’ll end up back at my place,” you banter. “Sounds good, like I said, whatever you’re comfortable with. And I like the sound of that,” he smugly says. You can’t help the boisterous laugh that escapes you at his playfulness.
You haven’t laughed all day, so this feels nice - natural. “You have a very pretty laugh,” he says. “Thank you, are you always this smooth?” You meekly ask, his flirting sends another wave of heat through your body. “Only with you.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes, both your smiles evident over the other line as a brief comfortable silence settles over you two. 
“So, there’s this really nice restaurant not too far from my job, I can give you the address whenever you’re ready,” he says, breaking the silence. “Give me one second,” you say while scrambling for a pen and paper. “Okay, what’s the address?” He tells you the name and address of the restaurant, you scribble it down.
“Alright, Chris. I’ll let you go. It was so nice talking to you again. I’m looking forward to seeing you. I’ll see you on Friday at 8,” you tell him, smiling into the phone. “Sounds good. It was nice talking to you again too. Looking forward to seeing you too. See you Friday, pretty lady,” he says, bidding you goodbye.
A dreamy sigh escapes you as you place the phone back on the receiver, Javi forgotten once more. You re-read the name of the restaurant again before plopping down on the couch. It looks oddly familiar, like you’d heard or seen the name of it before. The address definitely sounds familiar. Shrugging, you don’t question it further. You turn on the tv and continue to forget about Javi for the rest of your night.
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You wake the next morning, static blaring from the tv and with a crick in your neck as you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Stretching and massaging your neck, you rise to your feet to clean the mess you’d left on your coffee table. You pad into the kitchen to put your dirty glass in the sink, and chug a glass of water. The amount of wine you had created a dull ache behind your eyeballs. You prepare and scarf down 2 eggs and some toast with your glass of water.
Waltzing into the bathroom, you freshen up and get ready for the day. While choosing an outfit from your closet, you realize you don’t have anything nearly fancy enough for the restaurant you’ll be going to with Chris on Friday night. You’re off today, so you decide to go shopping for a new outfit while getting dressed.
You slip on your sneakers, grab your purse and keys, and head out on your journey. You cautiously walk through the stairwell and lobby, in fear of bumping into Cassandra, or worse, Javi. Desperately fighting off any thoughts of the two of them, you stroll down to a small boutique not far from your apartment.
Sifting through the racks for what feels like hours, you begin to feel defeated as nothing has caught your eye or wasn’t what you envisioned when you tried it on. You turn to walk out the store 'til something silky shines from the corner of your eye. A satin red dress glistens in the fluorescent light. You rush to grab it off the rack before anyone else can and ask to try it on. You’re led to a fitting room and hope and pray it fits.
It’s a perfect fit, making you feel sexy - never having owned a dress like this before. You wonder what Javi - Chris. You wonder what Chris will think of it, hoping he’ll love it. You’re going out with Chris. You’re shopping for your date with Chris, not Javi. You hadn’t thought about Javi since yesterday and you’re not about to start now. Shaking him from your thoughts, you slip off the dress and hang it back on the hanger. Getting dressed, you wonder how the hell Javi managed to worm his way back into your brain. You gather your things and go to checkout, paying for the dress and making your way home.
Walking home, you spot your friend and favorite vendor, Ana. She’s the woman you buy cocadas from. You smile and wave to her. “Hola Ana!” You say, politely while walking up to her. “Hola mija! Cómo estás? Cómo estaban las cocadas?” She asks. You tense up at the innocent question, reminded of Javi again. “Bien y usted? Y las cocadas muy bien! Estaban delicioso como siempre,” you tell her, fighting back the urge to frown. “Bien mija, gracias. Y toma un poco más, para ti y Javier!”
At the mention of his name, you see a man in a pink shirt from the corner of your eye - you’d know that pink shirt anywhere. Of course he’d be here when you’re trying to avoid him. You can’t contain the gasp that escapes you as you stare at the man. “Qué pasó, mija? Está todo bien?” Ana’s voice brings you back down to Earth, making you catch a better glimpse of the man in pink. He's wearing sunglasses, but not aviators - and he's shorter than Javi.
Realizing it’s not Javi, you sigh in relief. “Lo siento, Ana. Me pareció ver algo, una niña casi se cae,” you apologize, lying in the midst to avoid explaining what’s going on with Javi. “Está bien. Bueno, toma un poco más por favor,” she tells you, holding out a fresh bag of cocadas. She is too sweet for her own good. 
“Estas segura? Déjame pagarte, por favor,” “No es problema, mija. Eres mi cliente favorita,” she says with a reassuring smile and a wink. Your heart melts at her kindness, reluctantly taking the bag from her. “Muchas gracias, Ana,” you say, reaching to embrace her. “De nada, mija. Que tenga un buen día, ok? Y dale a Javier mi amor,” she says. Your lips pull into a tense smile at the mention of him again and the use of the word 'love.' “Lo haré. Que tenga un buen día!” You say, unintentionally rushing home as your feet carry you faster than normal.
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You pull out your keys and open the main entrance. Sighing, you mindlessly rub your hands over your face as you try to process your almost-meltdown earlier. As you walk up the stairs and onto the second floor, you hear a woman laughing from downstairs - that same familiar laughter from yesterday. You still, tensing up in the hallway.
Your feet move before you can realize it and you peek over the railing of the stairs. There she is - the same woman who was with Javi in the lobby. A small gasp escapes you and you move to scurry away, but not before you drop your keys to the tile floor in the quiet building, causing a loud clang and garnering unwanted attention. The conversation downstairs stops, the people looking up to find the source of commotion.
The woman spots you, making direct eye contact with you. She gives you a blank stare while the man she’s talking to says hello to you. “Hola, mija. Estás bien?” Your downstairs neighbor, Mr. Sanchez, greets you. “Hola señor Sanchez. Sí, estoy bien. Lo siento para el ruido,” you politely say, flashing him and the woman an apologetic smile as you pick up your keys. “Está bien, mija. Esta es mi sobrina Cassandra.” 
You shoot her a polite smile. “Hola Cassandra.” “Hola,” she bites, glaring at you. Her coldness catches you by surprise. You suspect she remembers you from earlier. Her uncle scolds her rudeness, oblivious to tension in the air.
“Cómo estás, mija? Hace tiempo que no te veo.” He says with a smile, shifting the conversation towards him. “Yo sé, lo siento. Necesito visitar más pero estoy bien. Y usted?” “Bien, mija. Gracias. Y sí, ven a cenar pronto!” He says enthusiastically. “Eso estaría bien, lo haré. Bueno… que tengan un buen dia, señor Sanchez y Cassandra,” you say. “Gracias, mija. Y usted también,” Mr. Sanchez says with a smile and a wave. Cassandra doesn’t say anything, her arms crossed and her hardened gaze fixated on you.
You turn and exhale a deep sigh, making your way to your apartment. All you want to do is hide away from the world after another weird day. With your gaze turned down to the floor, you don’t see the person in the hallway before bumping into them. You stumble back, a hand catching you before you hit the ground. “Lo siento mu-,” you begin to apologize, stopping midway as you look up. Javi stands before you, funnily enough in the pink shirt you thought you saw earlier.
Gasping, you yank your arm out of his grasp as if you’d been burned. “You okay?” He asks. “I’m fine,” you bite. You want to leave, but your feet are glued to the floor. “How are you, cariño?” He awkwardly asks. The nickname snaps you out of it, taking a step forward. “Why do you care? And stop calling me that,” you grit, pushing a finger into his chest. “Why do I care? So, I can’t ask how you’re doing anymore either?” He asks. “I said I'm fine,” you seethe. “That's not what I meant and you know it. You’re my best friend, and I know when something’s wrong," he says. “Do I know what you mean?" You sarcastically ask, already tired of this conversation. "Huh? I haven’t spoken to you since yesterday morning. I’m just trying to figure out why you shut me out with no explanation,” he says firmly, genuinely offended by your words. "I don’t owe you an explanation, the same way you don’t owe me one,” you respond curtly, attempting to leave. “An explanation? What do I need to explain?” He asks, genuinely confused. You open your mouth to go off on him, but are cut off before you can speak.
“Javier!” You hear that same voice, the one you heard just moments ago. You twirl around and see Cassandra standing at the end of the hall. Javi looks like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to do. The bitterness creeps up in your throat like bile. “Have fun with your new best friend, since you only want to fuck them anyway,” you spit, tears welling in your eyes as you push past him. Of course she’s here to see him again. He must be on lunch, seeing her on his break.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tears sting in the corner of your eyes, scoffing at his words as you whip back around to face him. “Please don’t play dumb with me, Javier. Oh, and these are for you, just as promised. Ana says hi, by the way,” you tell him, aggressively shoving the cocadas into his hold. You turn to storm off.
“Querida,” he says, defeat and confusion lacing his voice. “Stop! Just… please. Leave me alone, Javier,” your choke out, voice hoarse and trembling, barely above a whisper. You practically sprint to your apartment. Javi internally battles the urge to go after you, ultimately choosing to leave you alone. His brain short-circuits as he tries to figure out what your words meant. He recalls your words from Sunday night, confused as you’d said he could see other people. “Hola, Javier,” Cassandra purrs in his ear, pulling him out of his trance. “Hola, Cassandra,” he sighs, giving her a hug and a peck on the cheek. He sneaks one last look down the hall.
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You reach your apartment. Regrettably, you steal a glance down the hallway. You feel your heart crack into a million pieces. Javi and Cassandra stand there in an embrace, his lips brushing against her cheek as she smiles. Javi looks down the hall and makes direct eye contact with you. Your bottom lip wobbles as his brows scrunch together and his lips droop. You run inside and throw the bag that contains your dress on the counter, finally allowing the tears you’ve been holding back to cascade down your face. Rushing to your bedroom, you plop down onto your bed and curl into a ball as sobs wrack your body.
Your mind races with a million thoughts. How did Cassandra meet Javi? She obviously has family members who live in the building, but how did they meet? How long have they known each other? Why is this whole thing bothering you so much? Do you have feelings for Javi? Is that why? And does he have feelings for her? Why does he not have feelings for you? Not that it’d matter. Are you not good enough to be in a relationship with him? Is he embarrassed to be seen with you? What does Cassandra have that you don’t? Why did he lie? Did you do something to upset him? You knew having that conversation two nights ago was a mistake - you knew it wouldn’t go in your favor.
You unintentionally sob yourself into a deep sleep, giving your brain and heart a break from everything. You stir from your slumber, glancing at the clock. It’s 7 o’clock. You accidentally slept for 4 hours. Your head throbs and your eyes burn. You rub your temples to soothe the ache. A knock at your door grabs your attention. Rising from your feet, you pad to the front door and peer into the peephole. No one is there, but you see a bouquet of flowers resting on the floor.
Reluctantly opening your door, you reach for the bouquet and see that there’s a small note attached to the flowers. You remove the note and read what it says, confused as to who would leave you flowers. Chris doesn’t have your address so you have no clue who these could be from.
“I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you so upset with me. I hope we can fix things and go back to the way things were. I miss my best friend. -Javi.”
You can’t contain the bitter scoff that leaves your lips, rolling your eyes and angrily laughing. Taking a step back, you slam the door and lock it. He thinks he can fix everything with fucking flowers? How could he be so oblivious? Rage boils in your blood, shaking as you rip up the note. You toss it in the trash along with the flowers. How fucking dare he?
Dragging yourself to the tap, you pour yourself a glass of water and chug it. While rummaging for ingredients to whip up a quick dinner, you spot the bag with the dress you bought earlier on the counter - before your day went to shit. It reminds you of Chris and the date you have with him in 3 days, a genuine smile makes its way onto your face.
You pull it out of the bag, dinner forgotten as you go to try it on again. The red satin flatters you, feeling sexy as the hem stops mid-thigh and reveals your chest and back. Javi once said red was your col-, you immediately shake that thought from your head. He doesn’t deserve any of your energy. Twirling in the mirror, you feel giddy anticipating your date on Friday. You can’t wait to see Ja - Chris… Chris’ reaction when he sees you in the dress.
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Translations:
Cómo estás? - how are you?
Cómo estaban las cocadas? - how were the cocadas?
Bien y usted? - good and you?
Estaban deliciosos como siempre - they were delicious as always
Toma un poco más, para ti y Javier - take a few more, for you and Javier
Qué pasó, mija? - what happened, mija?
Está todo bien? - is everything okay?
Lo siento, Ana. Me pareció ver algo, una niña casi se cae - i’m sorry Ana. i thought i saw something, a little girl almost fell
Estas segura? - are you sure?
Déjame pagarte por favor - let me pay you please
No es problema, eres mi cliente favorita - it’s no problem, you’re my favorite customer
Que tenga un buen día - have a good day
Dale a Javier mi amor - give Javier my love
Lo haré - i will
Lo siento para el ruido - sorry for the noise
Está es mi sobrina - this is my niece
Hace tiempo que no te veo - i haven’t seen you in a while
Necesito visitar más - i need to visit more
Ven a cenar pronto - come over for dinner soon
Eso estaría bien - that would be nice
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Javi is such a stupid jackass, i’m sorry y’all 😭
but i hope y'all are enjoying the buildup! the third and final chapter is when shit is going to hit the fan! 🤭
tag list: @undrthelights @gracieheartsspedro @jenispunk @nostalxgic @mandoisapunk @party-hearses @bastardmandennis @tinygarbage @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @daydreamingmiller @javierpena-inatacvest @chaotic-mystery @amanitacowboy @factualfic @pascalpvnk @joeldjarin @kirsteng42 @pedrohoe04 @callmecath1 @sydneyinacoma @persephone-girl @suagmiller @honey-dip-24 @lizlil @thevoiceinyourheadx @harriedandharassed @xthejazzdalorianx @antifragilejpn @evangelinemedici @innerpersonunknown @vickie5446
if your name is crossed out, it means i couldn’t tag you ):
183 notes · View notes
blossomwritesthings · 4 months
Text
𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐭
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⬷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)
genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.
content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. felix is reader's estranged childhood bestie. chan is low-key an asshole in this ngl. heavy topics are mentioned such as: abusive/toxic relationships, cheating, and pathological lying. drinking/partying. the summer vibes are real in this one. there will be humor/fluff throughout to balance everything. and ofc smut too because who am i if not a whore for filthy felix smut. 😉
word count: 2.5k
summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.
a/n: how tf has it been so fucking long since I last updated this??? sheeshhh 💀 anyways bitches, I'm backkk and with a vengeance 😈 this bitch has finally got herself a girlfriend, and you best believe with that entails a whole new era of filthy pieces, fuck yeah besties!! 🥵 I'm estimating this series will have another 3-4 parts to it... I've planned to finish this by the end of jan 2024, thanks sm for all of your patience and support!
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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
Two weeks later, after the continuous ‘meetings’ that you and Felix had out on the beach early in the morning, you found yourself amid a popular club in the area, with Chris holding onto your side as the two of you swayed across the dance floor. 
 You had already finished your dinner at the fanciest Italian joint in all of Bridgeport, and you two were subsequently stuffed to the brim from all of the pasta and bread. Yet somehow, you still found yourselves at the local club, crammed in with the large crowd of other couples and single people. The smell of liquor and cigarette smoke was palpable in the air, the bass of the club songs vibrating underneath your feet and causing you to feel a little dizzy on your toes. 
 Or maybe the two shots of cherry vodka you had just drank were the thing making you dizzy. 
 “You’re so fucking hot- I love… love-” Chris began in a slur, as he tipped into you. You grunted against his weight, stumbling a bit and bumping into a couple that was right behind you. “So much better than… her…”
 Staying silent for a few seconds, your liquor-addled brain took a few extra moments to process his words. At first, you were flattered… you always loved it when your boyfriend complimented you and told you he loved you. But then, the alcohol flowing through your system seemed to melt away as your entire focus honed in on what he had just said. 
 “Chris… what do you mean by her?”
 He stared up at you with glassy eyes, bottom lip wavering just a little bit from the soju that was coursing in his veins. “W-Wha-”
 But you didn’t let him finish, as your heart started to race a little faster and you shook him off of you, disconnecting his arms from holding onto your waist. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 
 Your boyfriend flashed you a confused look, brows furrowing as he noticed the anger that was slowly overtaking your entire facial expression. “D-Doesn’t matter… you’re here now and-” He got cut off again by the sound of his phone ringing. It was loud as hell, and all of the music of the club suddenly drowned out as he pulled his phone from his jeans pocket. 
 Looking at it for a split second, he silenced it before shoving it back into his pocket. When he caught your focus again, your eyes were honed onto his phone. “Who was that?” You asked, folding your arms in defiance and watching his face for any hint of emotion. 
 Instead, he just offered you an easy smile, waving your concern away with a nonchalant, limp hand. “Nobody- was nobody.” And in that moment, you cursed him for being such a lightweight. For loving the taste of alcohol, but only being able to handle two drinks in before he was absolutely floored with drunkenness. 
 “Give me your phone, Chris.” You motioned to his pants pocket with your hand, eyes narrowing slowly as he leveled you with a serious glare. 
 “Why?” 
 “If you have nothing to hide then you’re fine with giving it to me for a second.” 
 “But I don’t see why-”
 “Give me the goddamn phone, Chris!” You screamed so loudly, that the people near you all turned to watch the scene unfolding. Maybe it was the vodka in you that caused the butterflies of anxiety to stir in your stomach, or maybe it was your worries and premonitions making you react so hastily. 
 He rubs me the wrong way… 
 The way Felix’s deep voice had said the words crossed your mind just then, underneath the bar’s flashing rainbow lights. You thought about your best friend again, when you impulsively reached forward and grabbed Chris’ phone before he could even realize what was happening. 
 And as soon as the screen brightened and you read the name under the missed call notification, you knew it was all over. 
 Everything around you, the loudness of the dance floor and Chris, and the people cramming in on all sides, suddenly melted into nothingness. Your breath honed down to a single point, your heart slowing down its beats as you slowly unlocked the phone. He had been using the same password since he was in high school. That much you knew. 
 One click of a button and the screen opened to his messages. To the contact at the top, bolded and covered in hearts. And as much as you didn’t want to know, as much as you wanted to be left in the dark, a tiny, quiet voice in the back of your mind prodded you on. 
 If you don’t find out now, you’ll never truly get clarity. 
 But the voice wasn’t yours. 
 It was… 
 Felix’s. 
 So you opened the thread. And you began to read. 
Today 
11:13 pm 
This bitch actually wants me to take her out on a date tonight- even though I’m fucking exhausted from working all week. 
 Well, at least you have me to look forward to afterward. :) 
 You mean I really get to fuck you tonight? 
 Of course! Why else would I give you the code to my apartment!? Just so that you could use it that one time?? Hell nahh~ ❤️
 You felt like you were going to throw up, and before you could read anything more, a hand was reaching forward and snatching the device away from your gasp. You peered up to see an enraged, red-faced Chris. 
 “Why the fuck would you do that?! I fucking told you no!” He roared, eyes alight with a certain kind of fire that scared you just the tiniest of bits. 
 Everything was scaring you at that moment. The entire relationship had been a lie. All those years, wasted. 
 Because perhaps, he had been cheating since day one. 
 Perhaps, he had been fucking someone else throughout it all. 
 Yeji. 
 Yeji. 
 Yeji. 
 Her name rang across the forefront of your mind like a sick kind of mantra. 
 Your best friend, your closest confidant. The girl you had been working with since you two turned sixteen. 
 But as it turns out, she had never felt the same way about you. 
 Chris continued to scream in your face, the alcohol taking over everything. And suddenly, you felt so light-headed. Like if you kept thinking about it, you’d pass out right there in the middle of the dance floor. 
 Heart shattering again and again into millions of tiny fragments, cutting through sinew and flesh and bone, you backed away from your boyfriend altogether. 
 Soon, you were getting lost in the crowd of people, Chris’ face disappearing in the midst of them all. And before you knew it, you found your back pressed against a wall, as you doubled over with the misery of it all, hyperventilating in panic. 
 Even still, you somehow found the sanity inside of you to pull out your phone. Through your bleary, tear-filled vision, you dialed the one person you knew at that moment who would always be there for you. 
 The line rang for a few moments, and you prayed to every God above that he’d answer. 
 Answer. 
 Please- 
 Fuck, please pick up-  
 “Hello?” His deep voice cut clear across your mind, clearing some of the cloudiness that had overtaken your entire system. 
 “N-Need you to pick me up- please.” You forced out, voice hiking up in despair with each word that you spoke. Your entire began to shake, as the reality of the situation crashed down on your shoulders. “N-Now.” 
 “Send me your location, I’ll be there in under twenty.” 
 He didn’t even question you, he just automatically knew you weren’t okay. 
 “T-Thanks.” You managed to say, wiping away the tears that were quickly falling down your cheeks. 
 “Wait for me- I’ll be there soon.” 
 And then the line clicked off and you were left alone again. 
 Alone in a room full of strangers. 
 And alone with the one person you thought you had known. Yet so suddenly, you didn’t know him at all. 
 Before you could do anything else, a strong hand was clamping down around your forearm and pulling you to the side. You were once again faced with a raging Chris, hands balled into fists and shoulders rising and falling rapidly with his anger. 
 “We need to talk!” He shouted over the booming club’s music that vibrated against the bottoms of your feet. Already, you were feeling so fucking uncomfortable under his gaze. 
 You yanked down at the sides of your tight-fitting mini dress. You wore the red one because it was Chris’ favorite. But all too suddenly, you were realizing how frivolous the entire night had been - the entire relationship, really. 
 “I have nothing to say to you,” You started, glaring down at the way that his hand clamped across your skin. “And get your hand off of me- you have no right to touch me anymore.” 
 You were pushing away from him and through the shuffling bodies in the throng of people before he could reply. You searched aimlessly for the exit, your feet taking you forward and out of the club as quickly as you possibly could. At that exact moment, you weren’t even thinking straight. You weren’t thinking about how Felix would find you if you left the premises of the club. Instead, you just kept walking. 
 Walking, and walking, and walking. 
 Almost like, if you walked far enough, you’d be able to escape all of the bullshit entirely. Like if you traveled a far enough distance, you’d be able to leave your broken, bleeding heart behind in that godforsaken, seedy club. You’d be able to forget all of the heartache and pain. 
  Instead, you’d be reborn again. Into a new woman, with no ailments and no shitty boyfriend to speak of. 
 You were so out of it, you didn’t realize you had begun to walk down the side of the highway until you were stopped by a pair of broad shoulders standing in your way. Staring upwards, your gaze caught the faint moonlight illuminated behind the figure looming just in front of you. 
 It was hard to see through all of the tears, but somehow, you found Chris’ face in the midst of it all. He was staring at you with an empty look on his face, an expression completely devoid of all feeling. 
 Like seeing you crying right there in front of him didn’t even phase him. 
 “Did you even fucking love me, during all of the time that we were together?” You asked, voice cracking at the end of your words. Your heart squeezed so tightly in your chest that it hurt to even breathe in. “Or was I just a means to an end?” 
 He just continued to look at you, eyes hooded and lips pressed together in a displeased line. Like you were a fly that was buzzing around his face amid summer, a complete pest but too fast to completely squash for good.
 “Or was I just a quick fuck for you? A body to keep your cock warm late at night, meanwhile you were out fucking her behind my back,” you said in a low voice, fists clenching at either of your sides at the reaction that he was having to everything. Because there was nothing. Nothing at all. Just emptiness, and no emotion or feeling or empathy whatsoever. And the worst part about it was that you couldn’t even utter her name. It hurt too much, to know that such a close friend had violated every part of your very being and spirit. “I guess I was just your trophy girlfriend- the pretty bitch that you liked to keep perched on your arm, tricking everyone into thinking that you were some perfect fucking boyfriend when really, you were getting your stupid, dick wet every single night-”
 After that, everything happened in a blur of movement and tears. 
 In a split second, the fiery burn was spreading across your cheek. 
 Traveling down, down, down, the column of your neck. 
 Pooling in your clavicle agonizingly. 
 Momentarily, all of your tears stopped. 
 Your heart felt like it was about to explode inside your chest - ribs poking the air right out of your lungs as you gaped up at Chris in utter disbelief. 
 “Don’t try to insinuate that I did shit behind your back, you stupid bitch. I only-”
 Then his hand was raising again, and you caught the look of fiery, unbidden fury deeply set within his dark eyes. 
 Just as he was about to strike again, he was stopped mid-air. 
 Your focus shifted off of the ass and onto… him. 
 In all of his messy, blonde tresses and dark, chocolate brown eyes with the beautifully, sun-kissed skin. 
 He held Chris’ arm in a vice-like grip, squeezing and squeezing until the tendons popped, causing your ex-boyfriend to yelp out in pain as he tried to rip out of Felix’s hold. 
 “If you ever try to land a single finger on her again, I swear I won’t fucking hold back,” Felix said, voice so low it was hard to register over the rush of the highway at your side. Then he was pushing Chris off, making him stumble backward on the sidewalk like the fool that he was. “Harm one hair on her head and I’ll fuck you over so much- you’ll be dead by the time my hands are off of your neck.” 
 Then Felix was bending down, eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second as he scooped your entire shaking form up into his strong arms. Holding you close to his body, you felt the comforting warmth radiate off of him and you were instantly soothed. 
 Melting into his grasp, the sobs wracked through your form, as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will the last twenty minutes out of your mind - your memory entirely. 
 As your limbs shook in his arms, he trudged forward, towards an unknown point. Most likely to his car, but in that moment, you couldn’t give a damn. You felt his heart beating wildly, as you pressed your ear against his chest. 
 “It’s okay, angel… I’m here now,” he whispered in a low, gravelly voice. Like he was barely holding onto his restraint - his sanity. “Just hold onto me, yeah? I’m not gonna let anything happen to you ever again- he’s never going to talk to you or touch you, ever again,” you felt his lips ghost over the crown of your head, as he pressed a gentle kiss there. “So don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay? As long as I got you, as long as you’re mine, no one will be able to hurt you ever again.” 
 The corners of your blurry vision darkened after that, as you succumbed to the overwhelming feelings of it all. 
 And the last thing you remembered feeling, just as you slipped into the bleakness and let the fuzziness take over everything, was the feeling of him - so close to you, and holding you so tightly and carefully and securely against him. 
 Like he always had, since the first day you had met him - he was there for you when you needed him most.
To be continued...
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