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moonjxsung · 11 months

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Not Allowed

TV GIRL / NOT ALLOWED

⇢ Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader

⇢ Summary: You and Felix are childhood friends turned fwb, with no strings attached. Felix leaves to pursue his idol dreams, and you begin your life as a college student. When he comes back to visit your town, he’s drawn to you again- but you’re both leading very different lives.

⇢ Warning: smut lol

⇢ W/c: 15k?

⇢ A/n: inspired by the TV Girl song “not allowed” <3 this has a lot of smut bc the whole song is abt sex so if ur uncomfortable with that, please don’t interact!

// MINORS DNI // DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST MY WORK

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are 18+. the actions and story represented in this work do not represent Stray Kids in any way; everything described is purely a work of fiction!

“What’s on your nasty old mind?”

Your childhood was by no means perfect. In fact, things seldom worked out in your favor. Born an only child in a middle-class working household, your parents were absent for long periods of time. Mom worked late nights at the hospital in the week, and dad was always away on business trips or out at company meetings. How many of these were actually late-night corporate gatherings and not just another woman he’d sneak off to see, you had no clue.

School was difficult, although you excelled in your courses, the stress ate away at you and withered you down like a dying flower. Decaying petal by petal, thorn by thorn, you’d find yourself questioning what the purpose of all this was if just to slave away at a desk and make money.

It seemed most everything was at the cost of your time, money, and sanity- except your friendship with Felix.

Lee Felix- even the name brought back distinct memories. Lazy, carefree afternoons when the two of you would spend hours upon hours scattering the sidewalks with chalk drawings of sea animals and hopscotch squares. Racing each other to the ice cream man’s cart when you’d hear the jingle from a block away. Laughing between singsong acrostic poems over colorful popsicles, the heat melting sticky sweetness onto your fingers, where you’d run them over your tinted red sunburns for some relief.

Most nights you’d spend at Felix’s house, tucked away in makeshift blanket forts in his bedroom- doing your best to keep hushed while you’d devise plans for tomorrow’s equally carefree July summer day.

Sometimes his sisters would join the two of you, learning all about your games as you’d walk them through the rules and dedicate one of them to the role of referee (per Felix’s sore loser request). But as you grew older, they made their own plans and friends, leaving the two of you to grow up alongside each other.

Days turned to months, which quickly turned to years that the two of you had been best friends. You observed as Felix grew taller and leaner, his short brown hair framing the introduction of freckles scattered all over his face- cheeks, eyes, and button nose. He couldn’t help but comment when you painted your nails for the first time, remarking he’d forgotten you were a girl sometimes.

Before you knew it, you and Felix made it to high school, where you each formed your own friend groups. You, a solid group of girls who shared your newfound interest in horror movies and girls nights. And Felix, a group of guys from the soccer team, the sport which he spent most of his teenage years wrapped up in.

Although you had your own lives, you and Felix remained close. You greeted him with a gentle wave every time you passed each other in the hallways, even if you were with your own groups of friends. Felix admired your newfound love for fashion, often complimenting your outfits when you had a second alone. His favorites usually involved anything olive green- which he made known was the best color on your naturally tanned skin tone. He gave his approval when you got highlights for the first time, experimented with different piercings, and even showed more skin than usual as the spring transitioned to summer.

You didn’t go unnoticed by the others in your grade- in fact, you became a particularly hot topic when you got your first boyfriend. He was a nerdy little member of the water polo team, with whom you’d spend your days after practice in his car listening to music and sharing stories of his day. It was also then that you shared your first kiss- a short, sloppy encounter in the front of his mom’s green minivan. Nothing that stuck with you in the long run, for the two of you broke up just two weeks later, citing “conflicting schedules”. He was with a new girl a week after that.

Felix was also a popular topic on campus. Girls visited his away soccer games just to watch him play, squealing when he’d score a goal and give them a little wave from down on the field. He had a girlfriend almost every year of his high school career- ranging from the most popular girl in school, to one a year older than him, and even rumors of some from rival schools (none of which were very serious). You often passed him locking lips with a girl when you passed his locker, looking awkward and a bit too happy to be there. It was those times that he had failed to acknowledge you, which you never cared about, considering you indulged in crushes on most of his friends anyway.

But he still kept you in his thoughts, making small talk when he passed you alone, and even bringing brownies from his mom when she baked a little too much (the famous recipe passed to Felix shortly after). You assured him that things were well, your parents still just as busy, your cat doing just fine, your college applications taking too much time these days.

He was just as giddy as his younger self, beaming when you shared good news and sending you off with a hug when his girlfriend or soccer buddies would drag him away. You weren’t sure any of them liked you, but they acknowledged you with a small thin-lipped smile every time they came around, which was enough for you.

Your final year of high school was a turning point for the two of you. You had made it into your first choice of university, a mere two hours from your household, with grades that reflected your hard work. Felix, on the other hand, chose a different career path.

When he knocked on your door one night, the last person you’d guessed it would be was Felix. You opened the door for him, wrapping your arms around your oversized hoodie that swallowed your frame.

“Hey!” he said enthusiastically.

“Felix!” you exclaimed quietly. Nobody was home at this hour, but the way the streetlights lit the dim world beyond your door, it felt odd to talk any louder than this.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked politely, to which you furrowed your brows.

“Yeah, sure... I mean, is it bad? You’re kinda scaring me.”

He chuckled lightly. “It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to give you the news first.”

You squint your eyes, unsure if you should invite him in. It felt odd considering he hadn’t been over in a while, but you didn’t want to make things weird.

“Yeah- do you want to come inside? Should I sit down for this?”

He chuckled again. “I won’t be long.”

You stepped aside as he passed through the door, standing with his hands in his pockets as you shut it behind you.

You led him to the living room, where he sat on the edge of the couch and smiled up at you. You took a seat next to him, facing your body toward him and smiling back.

“Okay…” you said timidly.

“Okay,” he began. “You remember when we were little, and I took those dance classes?”

You furrowed your brows at that. “Yeah, the hip hop ones? When you had that little performance?”

“Exactly,” he said.

“Yeah, I remember. We were so little!”

“We were!” he replied. “Anyway, so I did this tryout at an audition a little while back. It wasn’t really something I told anyone about, you know, in case they rejected me.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“And… well… they want me to keep at it.”

You cocked your head slightly, trying to make sense of his vague tone.

“You mean… you passed the audition?”

A small smile began to form on his lips.

“Kind of? They want me to keep practicing as a… trainee? And then if I get picked, I could possibly get… signed?” he finished with a questioning tone.

The smile on your face grew as he finished his sentence.

“They want to sign you?!” you exclaimed, a warm feeling overtaking your chest.

He laughed. “Not yet, not until I go there and try out officially. But there could be a chance, I guess?”

You jumped up, waving your hands with frantic excitement. “Oh my god, Felix! That’s amazing! You have to do it! When are you- I mean, where are the tryouts? I want to watch as much as I can! How’s that gonna work out with school?”

He sighed. “That was my next point.”

You paused, watching his expression grow worrisome.��

“It’s… in Korea.”

Felix expected you to cry, to choke up or even to bawl your eyes out. But you didn’t- instead, you gasped with an even bigger smile and gave one solid nod.

“Go,” you said firmly. “You can’t pass this chance up. There’s always university, and the people here, and life. You may never have this again. Go, and I’ll be rooting for you.”

His smile returned, his eyes narrowing into little crescent moons as he beamed across from you.

“You think so?” he asked.

“Oh I know so,” you reply. “Besides, if you get all famous, maybe this stupid town will be known for something other than being a shithole. They’ll say ‘you know that Felix kid’? He’s from there!”

Felix laughed, throwing his head back a little. When the two of you stopped laughing, he looked back at you, appreciation in his expression.

“You’ve always been here for me. I won’t forget that. Not ever.”

You shook your head, waving a hand.

“I’m just being a friend, Felix. That’s what we’ve always been to each other.”

He nodded. “Speaking of my best friend, where are you headed after graduation?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, cocking your head in the direction of the acceptance letter on the coffee table. “I don’t think there was ever a version of this universe where I’d be okay with not going.”

Felix’s jaw hung open, head shaking in disbelief. “Well I think this version of the universe knows how lucky they’d be to have you,” he said, extending his arms out for a hug, which you gladly accepted.

Felix held you against his chest for a minute, rubbing small circles into your back as he remarked how proud he was of you. You parroted the statement, telling him you knew he was going to make it big.

When he pulled away, his eyes darted to your lips for a brief second, and then back up to your eyes. “I can’t tell if that’s the same lip gloss you wore when we were younger.”

You chuckled. “Why would I keep the same tube of lip gloss from a decade ago?”

He smiled, a little embarrassed at his own remark. “I don’t know! You always wore that one. Strawberries? Or something like that.”

“Raspberries,” you said with a smile, and he held his gaze on yours for a second.

“Raspberry,” he echoed. “She wore raspberry.”

And in the midst of lingering seconds, he gently leaned into you, a strand of black hair falling over one eye.

“y/n… Can I… Would it be weird if I kissed you?”

You were startled for a second, as the action hadn’t crossed your mind in the time you’d known him.

“I mean, nevermind… sorry, that was weird. I’m just excited and I guess I felt like that would… lock in the moment? God, I’m sorry, that sounds so dumb-”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “Felix, if you wanted to lock in the moment, I’m pretty sure that little tangent did it enough.”

He chuckled too, a little disappointed you didn’t agree.

“Right, that’s probably true. I don’t even know why I asked that. We’re just friends after all, and it’s not like I came here to do that. I literally just got out of my relationship and I promise I’m not hitting on you-”

“Felix,” you interrupted. “I’m happy too. Come here,” you said gently, pulling his face to yours.

He smiled before pressing a tender kiss to your glossed lips, smiling into it and instinctively reaching a hand up to cup your cheek.

When he pulled away, you laughed and wiped the sweet residue from the corners of his mouth.

It didn’t feel any different between you two, only your happiness for him was elevated by the emotions running through you following the encounter.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” you told him again. “And I know you’re going to do great things.”

“I’m proud of you,” he echoed. “I don’t leave for a few months, if you want to do something? I mean as friends, obviously…”

You rolled your eyes jokingly. “A celebratory kiss doesn’t change anything between us. Duh, we can do something as friends.”

He laughed lightly. “Cool. I should get going, but we’ll catch up later?”

You nodded, gesturing to the door. “You know the way.”

And with that, he slipped back out into the night, his own house only a few blocks away.

Graduation came and went, and the two of you seemed to have reconnected again in ways you hadn’t during the entirety of high school. Felix would stop by in the early mornings, sometimes with little desserts he’d baked, and you’d enjoy them in the warm summer heat that enveloped your front porch.

For the first time ever, the two of you connected as blossoming adults. He told you tales of his past lovers- girls you now learned he would usually meet at soccer games away from your campus. He said he only ever really cared for one of them, whom he later broke up with to pursue somebody else he had his eye on. Defeating the purpose of him stating he ever cared for her, in typical Felix fashion.

He recalled the time he got caught cheating on his final math exam in sophomore year, which the teacher excused for how “tired he looked” (his words), and let him off with a gentle warning. He shared that he stayed up late practicing his dance and recording little songs on GarageBand, files which he’d save under recipe names on his computer, in case somebody accidentally came across one. Chocolate Cheesecake was his most recent, one which he’d gone so far as to upload a little thumbnail of the dessert for anonymity.

You soaked in his tales like you did the sunshine, laughing at his ability to turn the most outlandish scenarios into an adventure. You envied the way he had this long list of stories to pass down before he was even in university. But you shared your own stories back to him, albeit not the most exciting ones. You failed your driver’s test 3 times before finally passing, to which your instructor tentatively warned you to avoid busy streets for a few months.You almost set your house ablaze one night when you slept with a candle lit on your window sill. Nobody was hurt, but your mom scolded you for what felt like a lifetime. Your parents were going through a difficult patch right now, one you could see the possibility of ending in divorce. At this, Felix’s expression turned serious, swallowing at your words and nodding empathetically.

After exchanging a series of comforting words, he smiled over at you, chuckling at the way you licked your fingers clean of his famous fudge brownies.

“Is there a lucky guy?” he asked suddenly, wiggling his eyebrows in a curious manner.

“What?” you replied, trying your best to recall if you’d ever passed his house in the presence of another guy. Nothing came to mind- you hadn’t even pursued another boyfriend since your little water polo romance.

He chuckled. “Come on, there has to be somebody. I just told you all about the relationship I got out of. Think that’s reason enough to distract me with your version.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Absolutely no one. I don’t think I can do another car seat romance right now.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “A car seat? That’s risque! You weren’t afraid of getting caught?”

You shook your head. “What’s the harm in getting caught kissing? That’s hardly a big deal!”

He furrowed his brows. “Oh sorry, I thought… something else.”

You paused for a brief moment, understanding his implications. “Felix… are you… inquiring about my sex life right now?”

His freckles almost disappeared as his face turned a bright shade of red. He was afraid if you sat any closer, you might feel the heat radiating from the tips of his ears.

“No! I wasn’t- I just thought,” he stammered.

You laughed in response. “You could’ve just asked if I was a virgin, you know. That’s not weird.”

His blush grew brighter, if even possible. “Oh god. I didn’t come here to try and get details out of you, I promise. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head. “You’re one of my best friends. I would likely tell you if I killed someone, you know.”

He laughed, the flush of his cheeks dying out a little. “Right.”

After a brief pause, you tilted your head in his direction. “Never.”

He raised his eyebrows a little, trying not to offend you with his reaction. “Never?”

You shook your head no. “Never! It just never happened. Of course if the right guy came along, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But I’m not going to have sex with just anyone. It’s not that important to me.”

He nodded, taking in your words. There’s a kind of admiration he had for your thought process. And then he began to speak.

“Me neither.”

You almost jumped up in the swinging bench bench from beside him. “What? No way, I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that to make me feel better!”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I was with anybody long enough to get to that point. Plus, it’s not like I was ever away from my parents or teammates to get up to that kind of stuff.”

You made sense of his words, a silence falling over the two of you.

“I mean…” he continued. “One of the girls at our second away game of senior year kind of… touched me? In the locker rooms?”

You stifled laughter. “I don’t need to hear the gory details of your almost handjob, Felix.”

He laughed back. “It was over my gym shorts!”

“Okay, okay! I get the gist!” you retorted, laughing into your hands.

The two of you fell silent again, the buzz of the cicadas bringing you back to reality for a moment.

“I should get going,” you tell him. “But thank you for the brownies. You really don’t have to keep bringing them. I’m going out with the girls later so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We could,” he said suddenly.

“What?” you replied, unsure of where his statement fit into your farewell.

“We could. Have… sex?” he clarified. You began to laugh, until you noticed his facial expression had turned serious.

“Felix? What are you proposing right now?”

He shrugged. “I’m not dating anyone. You’re not dating anyone. Neither of us have crossed it off our lists. It’s not like it has to be some big, emotional thing, y’know?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and then quickly transitioned into a frown. “Are you just trying to get in my pants?”

His face panicked. “No, god no. I’m sorry. I just thought maybe you’d want to. I mean you’re going to college and there will probably be a ton of opportunities for it there. I’ll be living with like 20 guys for a while… I dunno, I just thought… It's stupid. I’m sorry.”

You thought over his words for a while. The thought of it didn’t turn you on- having sex with your childhood best friend. In fact, it was a little gross. But he was right- you hadn’t really checked it off your young adult list. And you wouldn’t see him for months, so any awkward emotions that arose would have months to pass by and dissipate.

“I’m gonna get going,” he said. “I’m sorry, I feel like I ruined things.”

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s do it.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“You’re going to propose it and then act like I’m crazy for agreeing?” you replied.

“No, no! I mean- yeah. But only if you want to. Nothing emotional, if you don’t like it we can stop there. But we’ll have the story to tell when we’re both gone.”

“You make it sound like we’re dying, Felix.”

He chuckled.

“Let’s go inside. I’m not having my first time on a bench outdoors,” you finished.

He nodded, swallowing a big gulp of air. “Okay. I- do you want to take my hand? Or-”

You shook your head, chuckling at how awkward he managed to be sometimes. “Just go inside, I’ll meet you in my bedroom.”

Your bedroom was messier than you remembered. There were boxes scattered from packing for university. You realized Felix hadn’t seen it in a long time.

Posters of local bands scattered the walls, your mirrors plastered with collections of stickers. Your bed wasn’t made, the sheets sprawled over the edge and tangled from your morning slumber.

You were the first to lay down, gesturing for Felix to come over from his awkward stance in the doorway. He obliged, crawling on top of you and hoisting his weight up by a single elbow.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked nervously.

You smiled up at him, noting the way his freckles were yet again concealed by the blush across his cheeks.

“Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Felix smiled down at you, leaning in and pressing a gentle, yet firm kiss to your lips. His ebony hair tickled your cheek, which you reached up to move out of his face.

It was romantic and slow, and his hands traveled to the small of your waist, pulling you closer to his lanky frame.

He kissed you for a good while, and you could tell that although he hadn’t slept with anyone, he’d certainly had his share of kissing girls. His lips were plump and soft, and his eyelashes fluttered with pleasure every time you sighed against his mouth.

You’d almost forgotten the agreement by the time he slid a hand under your shirt. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice a little out of breath.

You nodded quickly in response, helping guide his hand to the curve of your breasts. Felix’s breath hitched in his throat as he examined your curves with the pads of his fingers. He awkwardly ran his index finger over your nipple, sighing in response when you let out a little gasp. His fingers were smooth, and oddly cold.

“So soft,” he said in a voice just above a whisper.

With growing eagerness in your core, you pulled back and slid your shirt over your head, glancing over at Felix who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off your chest. You chuckled softly at his expression, mouth agape and stars in his eyes at the sight in front of him. He sure knew how to give you an ego boost.

“Your turn,” you said, snapping him back to reality.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling the back of his white shirt over his head and tossing it aside, getting lost in the pile of your clothes already on the floor.

You observed his body too, taking in every new freckle you hadn’t seen before. They were scattered along his clavicles, painting his chest with little beige constellations and stopping just before his toned pecs. Where there was an absence of freckles, his muscles accentuated generously, jutting out as if begging to be explored.

You nodded, as if to say nice body, and a knowing smile grew on his pink lips. “Come here,” he said, pulling you close again and pressing chaste kisses to your neck and collarbones.

You really liked neck kisses, you learned, as he took his time brushing a tongue over patches of skin before peppering them with kisses and nibbling with feeble hunger.

Your hands reached up to tangle themselves in his silky hair, which he moaned gently in between kisses in response to. With your hands busy, he took the opportunity to slide a hand down, down- all the way down to your jeans.

Pulling away from your neck, he didn’t hesitate to snap open the button of your jeans and free your pelvis of the zipper. He didn’t even ask for permission, knowing by your reaction that the answer was yes, absolutely yes, please don’t stop.

Your hands left his hair to help slide your jeans off, and he towered over you to mirror the action. In between innocent giggles, he gathered both articles of clothing in his nimble hands, before making a dramatic show of tossing those on the floor, too.

You were down to just your underwear, a feeling which made you nervous as you became aware of how exposed you were. But Felix didn’t leave a single spot untouched, showering your skin with kisses as your hands found their way to his hair again.

“Can I try something?” Felix asked, pulling away to gauge your reaction through his fluttering lashes. You nodded, observing as he positioned himself between your legs, and reached a single hand to your underwear.

It was your turn for your breath to hitch, growing goosebumps as he placed a single finger to your still-clothed wetness. You gasped in response, the feeling not far from when you’d squeeze your thighs together to sex scenes from your favorite movies.

“I don’t really know how to do this,” he admitted to you shyly. “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

You brought your arms around his neck, smiling up at him and glancing down at his hands.

“Just circle my clit. With your finger. Like- yeah. Just like that,” you were interrupted by his successful attempt at following your instructions.

He smiled at your reaction, adding a finger and rubbing slow, thoughtful circles around your clit. You gasped at the heat growing in your core, happily accepting when he leaned down to kiss you as he continued. You stayed like that for several minutes, sweat pooling between your thighs as beams of sunlight glared through the window behind you.

Slowly, he hooked both fingers in your underwear, moving them aside to expose you, and placed fingers on your now fully exposed wetness. You gasped louder in response, humming with pleasure and gripping his toned bicep.

“Wait,” you said. “Let me just take them off.”

“Okay,” he replied in a gentle tone, pulling away a bit to let you slide your underwear off and over the bed.

Once bare, his fingers found their way back to your clit, now working little hearts into your skin. “Hearts?” you asked through a smile, kissing him harder and noting the lewd sounds of tongues and sweat and wetness that now filled the room.

He hummed in response, bucking his hips against your thigh, and you suddenly realized how hard he was for you. His bulge tented nicely in his gray boxers, the tip of his cock already flat against a generous spot of precum.

“Sorry,” he said, scared the accidental motion would make it look like he was moving too fast.

You grinned, shaking your head and propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “Take them off,” you requested plainly.

He gulped and nodded, admittedly scared of baring himself in front of you. You were already fully naked, and he’d forgotten the fact that he still had one article of clothing left to lose.

“You okay?” you asked, growing concerned at his silence. He nodded, responding by pulling his boxers down over his cock, which grew slowly against his abdomen.

He was just as you expected, veins bulging at his hardness, following the shape of his curvature to the wetted pink head.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, eyes fixated on his cock. He was flushed a rosy shade of pink as you stared, aching to explore every inch of him. Felix greeted your compliment with a toothy smile.

With a newfound confidence, he leaned back down to kiss you, his bulge sitting patiently at the entrance of your sex.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, and he responded with a nod.

“I never got rid of this after health class,” Felix said, as he fished a silver packet out of the pocket of his jeans which hung off the bed.

“You’re such a nerd,” you replied, and he laughed lightly as he tore open the packet with his teeth.

You helped him slide the rubber down his length, careful not to pinch any part of his sensitive skin. His breathing was heavy, and you could tell he didn't have much time before he gave in.

“Ready?” Felix asked, as he positioned himself in front of you again.

“Ready,” you replied, and you both kept your eyes locked down below as he gripped his shaft and slid just the tip in.

“Oh god,” you remarked, surprised at the sensation even though he was barely in. “Does it hurt?” he panicked, and you shook your head. “Just a little. Do more, if you can.”

At this Felix, pulled out slightly, and then bucked his hips forward so that he was just barely halfway in.

“Fuck-” you heard, and you looked up to his eyelids shut tight and nose scrunched. His hair hung lazily around his face, sweat pooled at the ebony roots.

“Are you-” you began to ask if he was okay, when he slid out and let out a deep sigh.

“I finished,” he replied. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would feel that good.”

You smiled in response, relaxing your hands by your side and sitting up.

“Don’t apologize, Felix. It’s just your body.”

You took note of the tears welling in his eyes, and your expression shifted to that of concern. “Felix?”

He wiped with the back of his hand, sitting back on your bed like a scolded child. “I didn’t mean to finish so fast. I wanted it to last. I didn’t come here for sex, I promise. I just thought it would be a good idea and now it’s over and I did so badly.”

He hiccuped through tears, and you sat up to wipe them from his eyes. “You didn’t do badly, Felix. You did amazing. That was an amazing first time. Don’t apologize for a natural reaction. We’re not pros at this.”

He nodded slowly, sniffling and looking around for his shirt. “Well I guess I’ll go,” he said rather dryly.

You knew he was going to beat himself up for this, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Felix, don’t go,” you said. “I’m not letting you leave like this.”

“I already ruined things,” he responded.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said. “Plus, we always have next time?”

You surprised yourself with your own remark, blushing as he locked his eyes on yours again.

“Next time?” he questioned, his voice still frail and quiet.

You nodded. “I mean… if you want to? As friends, of course. I liked it,” you shrugged.

The last of his tears trickled down his cheeks as a small smile grew back on his face, illuminating the room with comfort once again.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like to do it again.”

You nodded, mirroring his smile. “Then we can do it again. It’s not a big deal, right?”

He shook his head, wiping tears with the back of his hand. “Just… practice I guess? That’s all it is.”

You nodded. “Just practice. Exactly.”

With bleary eyes, Felix rid himself of the condom and clothed himself again, pulling his shirt over his head and buttoning his jeans back how they were. You laid on your side, still nude in your bed, one hand tucked under your cheek, still entranced by the way the sun kissed Felix’s freckles in the June air. You hummed softly as the birds chirped outside, the sounds starkly contrasting the filthy moans emitting from your room just moments earlier.

“I’ll see you later?” he said, turning to you, his eyes flickering curiously to your chest and and between your thighs again. You tugged the sheets up to your chin, keeping your gaze on him for a minute.

“Busy later, remember?”

He nodded once. “Right. Are your parents home tonight? Or… what are you doing tomorrow?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his helpless words. “Gosh Felix, you’re needy already. I’ll call you okay? I’m not gonna leave you hanging.”

He smiled in response, cocking his head to one side and taking one last look at you.

He’d never seen you like this, more skin showing than ever before. The way your mascara pooled around your eyes from shutting your eyes in pleasure. The way the last of the sun rays set little orange patches aglow on your olive skin, highlighting your clavicles like an oil painting. The way your smile said so much yet so little at the same time, as if to tell him you’ll be right here the next time. And the next, and the next- and hopefully several times after that.

He wanted nothing more than to touch himself and stay in for round two, but he was dying to go home and shower the lingering embarrassment off his body. With nothing else to say, he raised two fingers and gave a little salute, trying to send you off in the most casual manner he could, fearing you might change your mind about there being a next time.

“Catch ya later,” he said a bit awkwardly, and turned on his heel to stride out of your bedroom.

You said nothing in response, shutting your eyes and letting the evening drowsiness overtake you.

“You should hear when you’re not around, when it’s just us horny poets”

It didn’t take long before you and Felix were fucking like rabbits for the remainder of summer.

Handjobs on your porch when it was too early in the morning to be caught. Blowjobs in the backseat of his car, Felix strategically parking on little off roads where no one could interrupt, while his hands pulled mercilessly at your hair. Kisses all over your neck during movie nights, where you’d fold almost immediately and wind up under him for the remainder of- what was that film again? You’re not sure. You were sure of his nimble fingers, and the way his lips could work up just about anything out of you.

You’re sure he’d been studying pornography, the way his lips pressed little butterfly kisses all over your aching pussy, coming up to suckle your clit and spread your juices all over your thighs with more hungry kisses and nibbles.

Felix even felt comfortable enough to present you some of the videos he got off to, shyly angling his phone at you mid-makeout session, inquiring about your interest in sucking off his fingers. You challenged him, making him suck your fingers instead, while you edged him over his sweatpants. Note: he really liked that move.

The two of you were different tunes working in perfect harmony, your erotic ideas playing off of each other, resulting in some of your most intense memories together.

Not every idea worked out as you’d planned, but the time was never wasted. Nights where you couldn’t finish from penetration alone, he’d spend hours working you up with an old massager, his deep voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he fondled your breasts.

His words were so carefully picked, diligently selected from your favorite erotic fiction works you’d send him. “You like that? Is your pussy aching for me? Always so wet when I touch you. Could do this for hours…could hear you moan for hours.”

His breath tickled your neck, the sound of his own labored breathing growing louder and then quieter again as he’d brush his lips over your ear and fill your mind with little moans and filthy thoughts.

And the nights would always end safely. He’d bring his signature baked goods, massaging you in his lap as he fed you little bites of brownies and cookies and pies.

His words never stopped at sex, showering you with compliments and sweet nothings even if not to arouse you. “You did so well today. Thanks for letting me try that. I’m sorry if it hurts. Let’s try something more gentle tomorrow, yeah?”

And the weeks you couldn’t have sex, Felix never seemed to mind all too much. Sometimes he’d let you watch him pleasure himself, sometimes he’d brush off the idea all together. The stories you shared, and the laughs you got out of each other, were reason enough to spend just about every passing second together.

2:15am.

Felix pulled out, rolling over on his back again, letting out an exasperated sigh and shutting his eyes.

“Fuck. That was good. Are you okay?”

He forced an eyelid open, glancing over at your still lying body, too tired to speak but nodding through labored breaths.

“Yeah,” you managed a minute later.

The two of you remained like that for a few minutes, basking in the silence of the atmosphere around you. The world was quiet without the loud moans and cuss words that erupted when you were normally together.

And then came the sniffles.

When you began fucking, you quickly understood that you were learning things about Felix that maybe nobody knew before you. Not even Felix himself. Like how he scrunched his nose right before he finished, his open mouth following shortly after. The way he apologized after he let out an accidental slut or whore in the bedroom. They helped him get off on occasion, but he detested the thought of you internalizing the words. Or maybe the way his hands cramped quickly when he fingered you- he wasn’t used to using his hands as much as his legs or upper body. Soccer player problems.

But the most interesting thing you’d come to discover about Felix was his tendency to cry after sex.

Mornings, afternoons in his car, quickies in your room, it didn’t matter. 90 percent of the time, he’d cry after finishing, his whole face contorting into that of a guilty boy’s, eyes reddening as they welled with tears and found their home on the sleeves of his sweaters or corners of your sheets.

The second time it happened, you grew concerned for him, thinking it was something you’d done. You tried to break things off, saying “maybe this isn’t a good idea” and “I don’t want to do this if you’re not emotionally ready for it.”

But that only made him cry harder. Wrapping you in his arms and letting out gentle sobs in your knees. Begging you not to go, that he’d work on himself instead.

It never stopped, and although Felix tried to vocalize it, you always felt sorry for him.

“Sorry,” he’d explain through sobs. “Just felt so good.”

You never invalidated his feelings, always simply nodding at his words and holding him for as long as he needed to be held.

The truth is, Felix felt emotions so deeply, deeper than even he himself was capable of handling. The orgasms were an emotional high for him every time, pure bliss exiting his body and filling yours, you returning the favor with your praises for him.

When he came down from his high, it snapped him back to reality to remember that this was all temporary. That he’d be gone soon, that you’d be fucking somebody else in this bed within the next few weeks. That he didn’t buy you flowers, nor did he properly introduce himself to your parents, although you weren’t dating. That you’d be so generous to try just about anything with him, going at it for hours to determine what the two of you liked and didn’t like. That you sacrificed your body for his pleasure on nights you weren’t as horny as he was, and that you never made a fuss when he made a mess of you and your sheets.

That you held him after sex every time, massaging his hair with a gentle caress, telling him about how “amazing he did” and that he was “so, so good to you.”

And through tear-stained eyes, he’d do the same for you, thanking you until sleep overtook you both.

Tonight was no different.

“Hey, hey,” you said to him soothingly. “Come here.”

He sat up, face in his hands for a moment as he let out quiet sobs and shook his head. “It’s no use. I can’t st-stop c-crying…” choked sobs trailed his voice away from you.

“Felix, you did so well. You always do. Are you overwhelmed? Talk to me,” you said, sitting up to embrace him.

He turned to hug you back, tears falling on your bare shoulder as you shushed him and pressed little kisses to his forehead.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You’d heard it a million times from him, but he always felt the need to justify himself to you.

“Don’t apologize,” you told him. “Don’t apologize for your body. Do you want to grab something to eat? I know it’s late, but McDonald’s is still open.”

He wiped his tears away for the second time today, nodding as you reached over and handed him his sweatshirt.

When his tears came to a halt, he smiled at you and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your temple. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I know it’s the least sexy thing you can do after an orgasm.”

You smiled back at him, standing up to gather your clothes from where they’d fallen. “Hey, I don’t care if you want to do your taxes after sex. I had fun, you had fun. That’s all that matters.”

Felix always admired your ability to downplay everything. No reaction of his was too much when he was around you. He felt normal, comfortable. Safe.

“Just gonna grab a new pair of underwear,” you said to him. “I’ll meet you back at the car.”

Felix nodded, scrambling out of the tangled sheets of your bed and grabbing his car keys.

As he exited your room, you took careful note of your disheveled appearance in the mirror. Bruises, messy hair, puffy lips. Tear-stained shoulders.

“Okay,” you began. “If you had to pick what you’d want your dorm mates to be like, what would you say?”

You popped a french fry in your mouth, watching as Felix thought over the question.

“I’d say…” his Australian accent was thick as he pondered for a moment. “I dunno, maybe outgoing? I guess I’m not the most extroverted so I need some balance.”

You laughed. “Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes outgoing can be a veiled statement for annoying.”

He scrunched his nose at you. “Oh god. More annoying than me? I don’t even know if that’s possible.”

You slapped his arm playfully. “You’re right, I think you already beat them in that department.”

He remarked a sarcastic haha at you, taking a sip of his McFlurry before crossing his legs onto his seat.

“What about you- what do you hope the people at university are like?”

You swallowed, giving a small shrug. “I hope they make me feel comfortable.”

His eyes remained on you for a second, and you continued your response. “I just want to experience everything. I want to go bar-crawling with my friends at 2am. I want to go to parties, and study at the library for finals with a group of people who make it all worth it. I just want that typical experience.”

He nodded, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

He was reminded again that he wasn’t going to be a part of your university experience. You were going to meet new people, make new friends. Fuck new guys. And he wouldn’t be around to be part of any of it.

“You know,” Felix began. “I’m rooting for you. Even though I won’t be here to see how it all plays out.”

You pulled your lips into a thin smile, nodding. “I know you are. I don’t doubt that.”

“And,” you continued. “I’m rooting for you. I’ll be tuned in to all the programs they put you on. I’ll shoot you little messages about your silly stage outfits here and there. The whole kpop fan image? That’s going to be me, like, times a million. Maybe I’ll drag around your album everywhere I go.”

He laughed at the idea, tossing his head back. “Hey, don’t speak too soon. If things fall through I’ll be back in less than a month. I don’t even speak Korean. Got a lot of learning to do.”

You waved him off. “You’ll catch on. I know you will.”

He held your gaze for a moment, smiling again before leaning in to kiss you. His lips tasted like oreos, and yours lingered of salty fries.

“2 weeks,” he said when he pulled away. “I can’t believe how fast this summer went by.”

You agreed with a slight tilt of your head.

He glanced out the window briefly. The cicadas had gotten quieter now that August drew to a close. You were at the usual spot you hooked up at, parked in his car across a vista point just off the highway. The view overlooked a canyon of trees, which looked like something out of a horror movie at this hour of the night.

He looked back at you and nodded in the direction of the backseat, a gesture you knew very well. You climbed over the center console, already pulling off your sweatpants and adjusting yourself so your legs were propped open.

Felix followed after you, slipping off his jeans and pulling you onto his lap.

Hasty kisses met your lips and neck as he gripped your waist and massaged little circles into the dimples that met your lower back. He let little moans meet your mouth as you palmed his already-hard cock through his boxers, rocking back and forth on his thigh to stimulate yourself first.

One hand reached up and snaked two fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” he instructed.

You wrapped desperate fingers around his wrist, pressing little kisses to the pads of his fingers before slipping them in and out of your drooly mouth. He didn’t break eye contact as you hollowed your cheeks and stared at him through long lashes, moving slowly and savoring the taste of his soft skin.

“Good,” he said, and you released him with a gentle pop, a string of saliva connecting him to you still.

He licked a stripe along his fingers too, sharing the flavor of your needy spit, before reaching down and moving your underwear aside.

You gasped as a finger pressed hastily to your clit, rubbing little hearts as he usually did, which he knew drove you wild. He rubbed back and forth, grazing down your slit and back up again, before finding his way to your entrance.

Felix gently inserted a first, and then a second finger, inside your soaking cunt, using his thumb to graze your clit and make you emit breathy moans from the sensation.

“Fuck,” you breathed, watching him tilt his head to one side.

“That feel good? Hmm?” He cooed with a smile, already knowing the answer by your pleasured response.

You nodded, eyebrows arched up in pleasure as he moved faster. Felix nodded with you as you gripped his wrist, digging nail marks into his veiny forearm.

“Felix, would you fuck me?” you asked him politely, your breathing speeding up.

“Hmm? I am fucking you, sweetheart.” The pet names, god, the pet names. He knew exactly what they did to you.

“Want your cock in me,” you specified, gripping his wrist again to slow his pace. He hummed in response, moving a strand of hair out of your face and pressing little kisses to your exposed neck.

Feeling he’d teased you enough, Felix pulled his boxers down and tossed them aside, gasping as you jerked him twice and thumbed at his tip.

“Fuck, stop,” he begged you. “I don’t want to finish yet.”

You, nodded removing your panties with ease and waiting patiently as he slid a condom efficiently over his length and positioned himself. Before you could lay back and spread, he gripped your waist again, lifting you onto his lap and rubbing against your soaking slit.

“Wanna fuck up into you,” he said. “Wrap your arms around me.”

You did as told, grabbing hold of his warm gray hoodie and taking a deep breath as he lowered you on to him.

Felix let out a hearty moan, soaking in how good it felt. You’d ridden him once before, but this was something else. Needy hands grabbed at each other, making desperate attempts to grope your flesh and bring you closer to him. His hands rested on your lower back and syncopated with your breathing as he lifted you down on to him and bucked his hips up into you.

You felt every inch of his cock twitching inside of you, about to fill you up before you caressed his jaw and pleaded. “Don’t move,” you instructed. “I just want to feel you for a second.”

Felix did as told, slowing his thrusts down and reciprocating as you leaned down for a sloppy kiss. His cock pulsated against your already throbbing clit, sending shivers down your spine as you kissed him again, and again. Making him feel every ounce of your want for him and only him.

His mouth was wet with drool, giant sultry eyes so full of want and need for your body. When you pulled away, you took in his face for a second. Although it was dark, you could still make out the flush of his cheeks around his freckles. Dark strands of hair hung loosely around his jaw, and the musk of his cologne filled the air as he sweated profusely in the steamy car.

“Okay,” you said finally. “Cum in me. Please.”

The words were all it took before Felix thrust up into you again, his nose scrunching and mouth agape as he shot thick, white strands of his pleasure into the rubber.

You let out a breathy sigh as he slid out of you, tying up the condom and tossing it aside.

But you didn’t move from off of him, instead holding him and pressing little kisses to his forehead. Like clockwork, the tears began to flow. You kissed them back up his cheeks, letting the salty taste melt on your already salted tongue.

“It’s okay,” you assured, and he sniffled with innocent puppy-dog eyes that looked up at you. You wrapped a hand around his hair, pulling him closer and ruffling his locks with empathy. “You okay? That was really good.”

He nodded, wiping his tears with sleeves that enveloped his hands like little paws. “Felt really good,” he said, letting out another choked sob.

“I know,” you replied. “I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

It was usually at this point that Felix’s crying began to lessen, but he started crying even harder at your consolation.

“Felix?” you asked, getting worried with his growing sadness. He nuzzled his face into your neck, letting tears fall to your neck and wet your hoodie.

“Don’t forget me,” he said suddenly, and you were taken aback by his pleading tone.

You pushed him away, tilting his chin up to meet yours again.

“Felix,” you said. “Nothing could ever make me forget you. You’re my best friend. We’ll see each other again.”

He nodded, but a smile was still absent from his expression.

You pulled him in for another hug, rubbing circles into his hoodie and shushing him gently.

“My star,” you cooed tenderly. “Could never forget you.”

Your hands grazed the back of his neck as he held you too, feeling small and vulnerable, but safe. Always safe.

“You may not like it, but you better learn how, ‘cause it’s your turn now”

Felix left on a Thursday.

It was a dark September morning, the day too early to reveal what the weather would bring. He wore a hoodie and his favorite sweatpants, looking especially boyish with a bulky pair of headphones around his neck, his sleek black hair pushed back with a headband. One of yours- one he’d found in the backseat of his car.

He packed the remainder of his bags, glancing over at your street in the chill of the September air as his mom loaded the car with his belongings.

I’ll see her soon, he assured himself. After all, you had promised you wouldn’t forget him.

The day prior was spent with his family, enjoying one last home-cooked meal with his mom and sisters. They exchanged a few gifts they’d generously picked for him, knowing they’d miss his 19th birthday, just 2 weeks out from his departure date.

Felix cried at the gesture, the idea of a birthday spent alone suddenly filling him with dread.

And after double counting his bags, his family was off to sleep. “Don’t use your phone,” his mother had remarked several times. “We need to be at the airport very early tomorrow.”

And when he was sure she was asleep, little snores confirming his theory, Felix climbed out of his window and disappeared into the dimly lit streets, mentally apologizing to his mom for disobeying every one of her orders.

The air was more unforgiving than when he’d escaped in the summer months, painting little goosebumps on his bare arms and showing his breath back to him when he exhaled.

Still, he ran. He ran and ran, and he didn’t waste a second booking it to your place.

Your window was left ajar as it usually was, you sitting up in bed with a book. When the crunch of leaves drew your attention to the paned glass, you knew exactly who it was.

Felix usually did his best to lead into your sessions as a gentleman would, inquiring about your day and sharing little bits of his. But his heartbeat quickened with every passing second, knowing this was it. This was the last time he’d have you for who knew how long, and his body ached for yours already.

You wasted no time helping him climb inside, already attaching your lips to his, as he guided you back into your bed.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, slipping off your nightgown too, pressing hungry kisses to your thighs and moaning against your soft skin.

He wanted to say something, he wanted so badly to tell you how sorry he was for brushing past your day, that he did in fact care, but that he needed all of you first. He wanted to apologize for all the times he ignored you in the hallways back at school, mentally punishing himself for not being a more prominent part of your teenage years sooner. He wanted to tell you that Oreo McFlurries all tasted like you now, and they always would. For as long as he remembered you.

Your hands in his hair brought him back to the moment, and he wasted no time attaching his drooly tongue to your clit, moving back and forth like a starving animal eating for the first time in days.

His licks turned into saliva-filled kisses, wrapping his lips around your clit and making loud sucking noises as he pulled back and left no inch of your folds untasted. Between his licking and ravenous kisses, you felt your body tense as you reached your high. It must’ve been a new record, you thought to yourself, as your legs trembled and you leaked cum all over his pretty face.

Your orgasm was intoxicating, but your need for him kept you aching, and you knew you had a lot more left in you still.

Felix’s mouth met yours again, letting you taste yourself on his wet lips. He smiled in between kisses, trailing kisses down to your breasts and suckling each nipple with soft hums.

“Gonna make you feel so good tonight,” he said for the first time tonight, in between breathless kisses. “Just lay back. You don’t have to lift a finger.”

You shivered at his words, an agreement you normally didn’t do when you linked. You always returned the favor in one way or another, but tonight, he wanted to prove himself to you.

As he pressed kisses down your torso, he complimented you between gasps for air, making you giggle as you looked down at him. “So… beautiful…” he’d say. “So soft… love how you’re always ready for me…”

His mouth found his way to your clit again, and you didn’t care that you were already overstimulated from your first orgasm. He kissed you all over, paying careful attention to your swollen clit, moaning as you stifled screams and gasps.

Felix tasted you for what felt like hours. You’d finished all over him a total of three times already, and well into the fourth, you pulled him up by his hair. “Need you,” you said, your insides aching to clench around him just once.

He didn’t waste any time demanding you specify your words, knowing exactly what you wanted from him. His boxers were stained with dark gray spots of wetness, and you realized he must’ve been aching for you too. The thought of his straining bulge made you even wetter for him, if that was even possible.

Hoisting your legs up around his waist, Felix wrapped himself up and thrusted into you with more force than you’d felt from him before. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, your nails scratching red marks all over his forearms.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, pausing for a moment. You shook your head no, moving a strand of hair out of his face.

With that, he thrust into you again, and again, loud moans and whimpers escaping his lips like you’d never heard before. As he watched your fucked-out expression, he snaked a hand around your throat, lining your eyesight up with his.

“Look at me,” he demanded. You kept your gaze on him, pondering how this was the same person who so delicately kissed you and held your hand when you weren’t underneath him like this.

“You gonna miss me?” he asked between rhythmic thrusts. You nodded.

“You gonna think of me when you touch yourself?” he asked, and your heartbeat quickened at his tone.

“Yes,” you replied, barely above a whisper.

“You gonna tell me when you’re all wet and needy for me? You gonna touch yourself and think of how I fucked you?”

Your heartbeat kept quickening, his words both dizzying and unexpected.

“Felix…” you said, but your voice trailed off as he quickened his pace again.

“Say it again,” he ordered.

“Felix.”

“Louder. Want the neighbors to hear how good I fuck you.”

“Felix!” You said louder as he moved even faster, your nails clawing into his back as your own voice filled your ears.

When you opened your eyes, his nose was scrunched in pleasure, followed by his plump lips parted, which chased his high. He moaned for what seemed like several minutes, thrusting himself empty, and slowing inside of you, making sure you were completely overstimulated before pulling out.

You sat up quickly, knowing he was going to cry himself silly tonight. As you pressed your hands to his cheeks, already rubbing your thumbs at his lashes, he nuzzled into you and pulled you closer.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaky with overwhelming sadness already.

But this time, you felt yourself start to cry, too. Your eyes welled with tears at the sight of him, holding you like a small child clutches a teddy bear, crying into your knees and letting little sobs escape his parted lips. When he heard your sniffles, he looked up at you, pouting through tears at the sight. It was his turn to pull you close, placing a gentle hand to the back of your head and holding you close to his chest, afraid he might break you if he didn’t maintain his fragile embrace.

He didn’t ask why you cried. He just stayed like that, holding you close to him, listening to your quiet sobs like music and grazing his hands over the skin he’d previously bruised and made a mess of.

3:56am.

Felix hadn’t meant to lose track of time this badly, and you knew he was supposed to leave for the airport in just an hour.

“Felix,” you said to him. “I didn’t mean to keep you up this late…”

He shook his head firmly, wiping his cheeks with the corner of your sheets.

“I can sleep on the plane,” he responded. His eyes were puffy and red, and you thumbed over his eyelids in attempts to soothe the irritated skin.

You pulled away, sliding out of your bed and pulling on your nightgown. “Have a little surprise for you,” you said, hoping to get at least a smile out of him before he left tonight.

It worked, his lips pulled into a curious grin as he slipped a shirt on himself, too.

“What is it?,” Felix remarked.

You didn’t respond, instead digging through your drawers and pulling out a small tube.

You tossed it over to him, his skilled fingers catching it quickly and observing it under the moonlight peering through the window.

“Your chapstick!” he said with a smile. “Raspberry.”

You smiled back at him and shrugged. “Little taste of home.”

He twisted the tube between his slender fingers for a bit, uncapping it and bringing it up to his swollen lips.

You watched as he glided the cherry color across his smile, running over the tint with his tongue and smacking his lips together lightly.

“Tastes like you,” he remarked.

You shrugged again with a smile. “We match now.”

You urged Felix to go home and get at least an hour of sleep, but he refused defiantly, asking to be held in your blankets until he had to leave.

So you did. And for the last time he was able to, Felix asked about your day. He kept his eyes on you the whole time, careful not to blink excessively in case he missed the way your face lit up at the mention of your future college life. He took note of the way your chest rose and fell with slow breaths, clearly tired but not enough to leave his side.

You told him all about what you still had to pack before leaving for university. About the book you started this morning, the second one in a trilogy. You recounted your favorite songs, suggesting a few to him, which he added to a playlist for his flight.

The two of you reminisced the summer days, which had slipped by you in the blink of an eye, taking all your carefree thoughts with them. You voiced your favorite moments in his car- both sexual escapades and late-night McDonald’s runs, and he shared his own discoveries and favorite moments back to you.

He said he hoped your next lover would appreciate the smell of your raspberry lips as much as he did. And you silently wished he’d find someone who held him after intense sessions the way you learned he needed.

But before you knew it, the clock read 4:48am.

You knew Felix’s mom would be waking him any moment now, and he needed to be back in his own bed fast.

“Go,” you said, as he propped himself up and scanned over your alarm clock once again. “You’ll get in trouble.”

You followed as he slid out from your warm comforter, fixing up his hair and towering over you.

With a straight, yet heavy expression, he looked down and tilted your chin up with one finger, placing a gentle kiss to your lips and pulling away after a few seconds.

“It was fun,” you said, and he smiled in response, though saying nothing back.

You followed him back to the window, where he hoisted himself over the ledge and back into the cool September air.

Turning on his heel, Felix brought two fingers up to his forehead, giving you a little salute and a smile.

“Catch ya later,” he said, and disappeared again into the morning fog.

You hoped so. You really, really hoped so.

“I’m starting to suspect you don’t intend to do anything you say at all.”

The months that followed were tainted heavily by Felix’s absence. The lulling clouds and light drizzles that spanned far into November reminded you that the seasons did in fact change, whether you wanted them to or not.

Your college dorm was small and cramped, and the smooth white walls felt like that of a prison most days. But your roommate was nice, and the two of you hit it off fast. Late nights were spent snacking in the dining hall, where the two of you would gossip about the boys you shared classes with, making lewd remarks that remained a fun game between the two of you.

You spent most of your days in the library, a favorite spot of yours on the 8th floor that overlooked the busy streets and provided ample content to people-watch.

And you never heard from Felix.

You didn’t reach out, knowing he was busier than ever, his phone usage probably monitored heavily by the executives there. And such was life- the summer interactions like the games you now played with your new college roommate; between the two of you, and not meant to be an object of permanence by any means.

But some days, you took it harder than others.

Some days you were angry with yourself for sacrificing so much, barely recognizing the curves and birthmarks that painted your nude frame, upset that anyone had ever touched them.

Other days, you stifled toothy smiles in the palms of your hands, when you remembered the activities both of you got up to that summer. Some of the most incredulous, dirty-minded positions came flooding back to your memory, and no one around you would ever suspect such a pristine girl to have tried the things she did.

You did touch yourself to the memories of them, hoping your roommate wouldn’t hear the little gasps you let out with your hands between your thighs at such an ungodly hour. But as time passed on, the memories were less vivid, melting colors and tastes into obscurity, until you couldn’t get off to them anymore.

And then one day in your second year, Mark entered your life.

At first, you were convinced there had to be a catch, when he approached you in the library to borrow a pencil, slipping his phone number to you in exchange.

His dusty blue hair and stylish outfit had caught your eye in passing once, but you’d never considered the possibility of him noticing you.

Yet that he did, sealing his action with a closed-mouth smile, gesturing to your phone and miming a texting gesture at you. “Yo, like, you should text me or something. I always see you around here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, fascinated with the casual way he talked.

“I don’t even know your name,” you remarked jokingly.

“Oh my bad,” he said, reaching a hand out to you. “I’m Mark. My friends usually call me Mark.”

You laughed again, meeting his hand halfway with yours and shaking once. “Y/n.”

“Dang, that’s a cool name,” he said. “It totally suits you.”

You cocked your head slightly, his words igniting a spark in you. “I’d hope so,” you replied. “Had it for 20 years.”

“Oh cool, you’re like a year younger than me,” he replied. “Second year?”

You nodded, taking in his features for a second. His warm smile and doe eyes were inviting, yet the way his chiseled jawline framed strands of sapphire hair was hot.

You stayed quiet for a second, before he broke the silence. “Listen, I gotta head to my evening class. But would you wanna like, grab a coffee or something? Or like, maybe get dinner? It’s a 3-hour lecture so I’ll be out kinda late but I’m probably gonna grab some takeout-”

His rambling was endearing. You cut him off with an eager nod, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll like, totally text you. Yo.” you said.

With an amused smile, you looked back once as you made your way to the elevator and disappeared between the twin doors. He kept his gaze on you from across the room, sticking his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans and smiling back.

The amusing encounter was the start of a whole new chapter for you.

“How quickly they turn sour, so be careful who you screw.”

College came and went quicker than you imagined it would. What took years of mental preparation seemed to fly by, the end of every semester always catching you by surprise.

You and Mark stuck together through the end of your college career. While he graduated a year earlier than you, he still visited every week of your last year, bringing you iced coffee and showering you with kisses as you studied in your same spot at the library. His friends also took a liking to you, and you were happier than you’d ever been before when you were around him.

Mark graduated with a degree in biology, getting a prestigious post-college internship at a research institution almost immediately after graduating. You completed your courses in business, excelling in all of them, grateful you had so many friends and a loving boyfriend for a support system.

And then you graduated, walking the stage in a dark blue dress (per Mark’s request), basking in the cheers of Mark and his friends, who made obnoxious neon signs and bought you the biggest gift basket you’d ever seen.

You began your work at a small ad agency, spending hours producing digital ads and writing pieces, coming home to your little shared apartment with Mark. It was a dingy box on the South Side, but with a little decorating, the two of you fell in love with the way it brought you closer together.

You enjoyed the months you couldn’t afford a mattress yet, keeping each other warm on the carpeted floor and using spare jackets as blankets. You bargained for furniture at secondhand shops, scoring the jackpot when you picked up the velvet couch of your dreams, one which you’d quickly come to spend most of your time on. The little kitchen table that only seated two, which proved a problem when you had friends over. But one that the two of you enjoyed home-cooked meals and greasy takeout on together, every night that you possibly could.

Mark was gentle with you. He was funny, outgoing, and smarter than anyone you’d ever known. You wondered sometimes what you did to deserve him. The two of you grew up together, much like you and Felix once did.

After graduation, Mark dyed his hair black for the first time in years, which you simply couldn’t get enough of. You lost weight after college, transitioning your closet from comfortable hoodies and sweatpants to dresses and blouses. The two of you coordinated outfits on errand days, which his friends never ceased teasing you for.

And you were happy. Truly and honestly happy.

One rainy Wednesday night, Mark took you out, deeming it a celebratory event following your raise at work.

“Here’s to… money,” Mark said with a smile, bringing his glass up to yours with a little clink.

You weren’t hard to please, requesting the celebratory meal be at your favorite ramen shop a couple blocks away. Mark insisted on something fancier, but let you pick your first choice in the end. He never pressured you, one of the many things you loved about him.

In between slurping noodles and telling tales of work, you were interrupted by music playing on the television high on the wall, drowning out Mark’s story with loud rap.

“Jeez,” you remarked. “Can’t they lower that? That’s so annoying.”

Mark adjusted his body toward the tv, bobbing his head at the thumping beat. “I dunno, I kinda like it.”

You scoffed. “This garbage? You’re crazy.”

He kept his eyes glued to the tv, eyebrows furrowed in a teasing manner as he continued to bob his head along and ad-lib the loud singing.

“Maniac... Maniac,” he hummed along, laughing at the screen and craning his head to keep watching.

You watched too, eyes glued to the colorful outfits and coordinated dancing. Your eyes scanned over the lyrics on the screen, realizing at this point that the song wasn’t in English.

if you think I’m just pure and innocent, you’re wrong,

when a favor continues, people think it’s their right, toxic,

this is what drives me crazy, warning

As a deep voice filled the room, your eyes remained glued to the figure in a green coat and purple beanie, heart stopping briefly in your chest while your mind raced a million miles per minute.

The familiarity of every feature grazed your conscience with a rude awakening.

You watched as the screen panned to someone with red hair, and another with purple hair. It was a few seconds before you spotted him again, a longer shot of him looking up at impressive skyscrapers. But it confirmed your theory.

It was Felix.

Mark’s singing began to annoy you now, the whole restaurant flooding with the same catchy chorus, most eaters now also craning their necks to watch the colorful group dance in sync.

“Could you stop?” you said suddenly, and Mark turned to you with a confused expression.

“Stop what?” he asked, questioning your sudden change of tone.

You didn’t answer, prodding at the noodles left in your bowl with chopsticks. The song overhead finished, transitioning to a slower song sung by a Korean woman this time.

“Y/n?” Mark asked again, waving a hand in front of you as your brows furrowed relentlessly at the dinner in front of you.

“Nothing,” you replied. “I was talking to my chopsticks. Sorry.”

Mark nodded, glancing back up at the screen and evidently thinking nothing of it. “She’s good,” he said. “Do you think she’s actually playing the piano?”

You didn’t answer, your brain and heart still racing with emotions that made you want to scream from atop a skyscraper. Any appetite you previously had for celebration dissipated quickly.

Their group wasn’t bad. Not by any means.

You did your research carefully, strategically logging out of your shared Youtube account with Mark to binge their music videos and interviews.

Felix seemed to have gone through a million different hair colors already. Black, green, silver, red, pink, even a long blonde wig which you liked more than you cared to admit.

You watched his interviews, picking him out from the group of 8 every time, keeping your focus on his mannerisms and crafted responses to superficial questions.

You quickly came to realize not much had changed about him. They dubbed him brownie boy- a name which you chuckled at in a melancholy tone, remembering the taste of them all too well. He loved dancing. He smiled after almost everything he said. His freckles were still his most prominent feature.

He even spoke of his hometown, telling an interviewer how much he’d hoped to visit again someday. Something you scoffed at, knowing all too well he must be too caught up in the glitz and glamor to give two shits about all of this.

It became an addiction for a few weeks, picking apart anything he said and interpreting where he’d been, what he’d seen out there. Who he might have fucked after you.

But the clips pointed you nowhere, filling your mind with useless knowledge about his various taekwondo medals and first impressions of his members.

And just like it entered, your new fixation exited your routine suddenly.

You tossed your phone on your bed one night, letting out an exasperated sigh after closing three tabs of useless articles and finding nothing in them.

“You good?” Mark asked.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Just stressed.”

He turned to face you, placing his phone down by his pillow as well.

“Is it that new thing at work?”

You rested your cheek on your hand, turning to face him too, noting the genuine look of care in his widened eyes.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Something like that.”

He held his gaze on yours for a minute, his eyes stretching into a smile as he let out a little laugh.

“Well you know I’m always here for you. Do you want to, like, talk about it or something?”

You smiled back at him, shaking your head in response.

There was no feasible explanation as to why you were bothered by the whole thing. The whole affair was nearly 5 years old now- you were a completely different person at that time. Maybe it was the idea of giving your body to someone who was so unchanged by it, he’d moved on to a whole new life without so much as a phone call. You loved Mark. You wouldn’t trade the relationship between you two for anything- or rather, anyone. But the pent up anger from being a side piece to someone who only pretended to care about you to get in your pants was hard to ignore.

“Y/n?” Mark interrupted, and your gaze snapped back to his, humming in question.

“I asked if you were in the mood tonight.” He repeated shyly.

“Oh, uh. Yeah! Sure.” You tried to slide your shorts off awkwardly, the knot on your waistband getting stuck as you rushed to fulfill his ask.

“Stupid pants,” you said, fumbling clumsily with them and quickly getting angry.

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m kinda beat anyway.”

You fiddled with the knot some more, keeping your gaze away from his now, hoping he wouldn’t notice any change in your demeanor.

“No no, it’s cool,” you replied dryly. “Seriously, I want to.”

Mark reached over, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead and retying the string on your pajama shorts.

“I’m not doing anything when you’re all distracted. It’s not right. Go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll go somewhere for breakfast, yeah?”

With one hand gently grazing over your stomach, he reached over your small frame, turning out the lamp and pulling you closer as darkness washed over the room. A small sliver of moonlight through the window shone over your face, and you hoped Mark wouldn’t notice the single tear running down your cheek.

“Do the wires in your mind get sewn together, rubbed and severed by the heat?”

The whole thing was stupid. You knew that, and you couldn’t keep doing this to Mark.

He’d been there for you since the start of your life without Felix, and you never had to doubt the love he had for you. Mark was a permanent fixture in your otherwise monotonous life and the only interesting thing about it, at that.

Maybe this was the universe’s way of reminding you to be grateful for what was here.

And that you were. You made it up to Mark several times since that week, surprising him with new lingerie sets when you could, and cooking a week’s worth of his favorite meals.

“It’s not even my birthday…” he’d always remark through hungry kisses, barely having time to set aside his briefcase before you dropped to your knees and finished him off right there in the hallway.

And things seemed to go back to normal.

Or at least you thought.

The business campaign you were working on was stressful- that, you hadn’t lied to Mark about.

Late nights turned into early mornings in front of your laptop, typing away at spreadsheets and pulling together presentation decks for your boss.

Mark typically knew when to leave you alone, only interrupting to bring you hot coffee and little snacks late into the night, until he’d fall asleep in the bedroom and wait for you to join. Sometimes, your work consumed your ability to sleep.

Tonight, after dinner, Mark tended to his usual routine of brewing you a cup of coffee, knowing it was going to be another late night for you.

Just a few more days of this, you promised him.

He wasn’t mad at your dedication to your work, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss cuddling in bed together.

“Shit,” you heard him say loudly. “We’re out of creamer.”

You glanced up over your laptop.

“Darn. I’ll just have it plain.”

He bent down to the first level of the fridge, peering around like a bottle might suddenly appear.

“Nah, I’ll go buy some. I’ll just be a few,” he said, closing the door and adjusting the knit black beanie on his head.

You looked up at him again, feeling a sense of guilt as he scanned the granite counter for his car keys.

“No no, you stay,” you said to him, lowering your laptop screen but not closing it fully. “I’ll go. I need a break anyway.”

He cocked his head a little. “I don’t even think the grocery store is open this late. Let me go to the convenience store and get one of those small cartons.”

You shook your head again, standing up and reaching for the keys that had been in your eyesight the whole time.

“I’ll go to the one further away. No biggie.”

Mark smirked a little as you pulled on your sneakers. “You’re getting in the way of my plan to secretly buy those cookies I like.”

You let out a gentle laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek and slinging your purse over your shoulder.

“Was already on my shopping list, silly.”

“Love you!” He shouted behind you, laughing as you jokingly waved him off and made your way to your car.

Your favorite convenience store was a few minutes away, by your parents’ house. They didn’t have an extensive selection of groceries, but they did have vanilla coffee creamer, and Mark’s favorite cookies. And that was enough to keep you coming back.

It was the same convenience store you’d practically grown up at, piling rice balls and mochi donuts on the counter after every drunken night out.

So much that the staff knew you by name, often “forgetting” to scan an item or two and keeping it a secret from the store manager.

The little bell chime indicated your entrance, and right away you were met with enthusiastic greetings from the employees.

“Y/n!” the regular employee exclaimed, ushering you to the newly placed display of rice balls.

You chuckled in response. “Just here for creamer, actually! But that is very tempting.”

You made your way around the display to the fridge, grabbing two bottles and hastily finding your place in line.

Only two people stood in front of you, and you scrolled through social media on your phone as they rang up their items and trickled out of the store.

At your turn, you placed both bottles on the counter, suddenly remembering Mark’s cookies you’d forgotten. “Sorry, let me grab one more thing!”

You sauntered two aisles down to the cookies while the cashier scanned, and then stopped when you noticed one box left on the shelf. One that was already being carefully examined by another shopper.

Feeling a sense of discouragement, you pretended to look over the other options, knowing very well Mark didn’t like just any option. He was always very passionate in his request for jam-filled shortbreads.

The shopper stood tall, back faced to you, as they scanned the nutrition labels and shifted the box around in their grip.

Just decide, you urged them mentally.

“Excuse me, are there any more of those?” You spoke suddenly, surprising yourself with your rather sharp tone.

He turned on his heel, a serious expression on his face as his eyes met with the rushed voice.

And you knew immediately.

Despite the black beanie pulled snugly over his locks, oversized hoodie that swallowed his figure, and a thin black mask covering his nose and mouth, you knew in his eyes.

Almond brown eyes filled with warmth and intensity, offset by the familiar beige galaxies that scattered across his eyelids, the rest concealed by his dark mask. What a shame it was, to cover something so beautiful.

You could tell he knew, too, his gaze fixated on yours for a minute, saying nothing as he maintained his tenacious grip on the cardboard box. Your thoughts ran at a record pace, swirling around your head like harsh waves in a tsunami, searching for something- anything to cling on to.

Say nothing, you told yourself. Leave.

And before he could get a word out, you dropped your gaze to the tiled floor below him. “Nevermind. You can keep them.”

The convenience store spun all around you, much like the storm brewing in your head, as you practically sprinted back to the counter and slapped a twenty in front of the employee, who’d already bagged your coffee creamers.

“Keep the change,” you said to him, before snatching the bag off the counter and making a beeline for your car.

Your hands shook as you put the key in the ignition, seeing him exit the store out of your peripheral vision. Like a lost animal searching for safety, his head scanned over the cars in the parking lot, stopping in dismay as he recognized you again, this time through your foggy car window.

Your head remained straight, forced tunnel vision on the giant soda advert plastered on the window of the store in front of you.

And without so much as a glance in his direction, you made your way out of the lot and back toward your apartment.

Hours spent replaying the interaction in your head quickly turned to days, and Mark could tell once again that something wasn’t right. You felt yourself sink back into that place of uncertainty and unresolved doubts.

On top of that, your daily routine was beginning to drive you crazy. Wake up, work, come home, work.

Sleep. Repeat.

It also didn’t help that things between you and Mark had fallen tense in the past few weeks.

Nights you worked late, he often did too, staying at the lab for a few hours extra and coming home more tired than ever. You tried to initiate intimacy with him, but it seemed he was the one declining lately.

During your few minutes together before work, you broke the groggy silence to speak.

“I need to go to my parents’ for a few days.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, cocking his head while chewing his toast. “Your parents’ place? Like, across town? Why?”

You shrugged, swirling a spoon around in your bowl of cereal.

“I need some time. And space.”

He swallowed his bite of toast dramatically. “Are you- I mean, are we okay?”

You reassured him with a small smile. “Yeah, we’re okay. It’s just the stress of work and life. Want to make sure I get time to say hi to mom and dad, you know?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah, for sure. When are you planning on going?”

You got up from your seat at the table, bringing your bowl to the sink and giving it a light rinse. “Tonight. I’m just gonna pack a bag and go straight there after work. I already let my boss know I’ll be out for a couple days.”

Mark nodded again. “Okay, well say hi to them for me. I’ll hold down the fort over here.”

You walked over to him, pressing a little kiss to his temple, and grabbed your laptop.

“We’re okay,” you repeated. “And I love you.”

He didn’t respond, looking down at his food as he pondered your words.

You left for work earlier than usual, stuffing a duffel bag of clothes in your trunk and letting your parents know you’d be there later. The work day went by slowly, projects and emails confirming that you did indeed need a few days away from all this. By the time the end of the day finally rolled around, you wasted no time booking it to your car and changing out your heels for a pair of sneakers.

Your childhood home was on the other side of town, but the rush hour of traffic on a Friday evening doubled the time it took for you to get there. When you did, mom was already out for her night shift, and dad wasn’t even home for the week.

Maybe coming here for the purpose of saying hi to mom and dad was a bit of a lie. But you had been honest to Mark about needing time and space. And several days off. Days you hoped to spend curled up in your childhood bed catching up on sleep.

Your room was largely unchanged. There were still little holes scattered on the walls from where your posters were hung with thumbtacks, but the walls remained void of any new decor. The carpet was the same too, down to the prominent coffee stain you’d gotten on it nearly a decade ago. Your window still gave a clear view of the streets beyond yours, framed artistically by overgrown vines in the front yard.

With a deep sigh, you leaned against the frame of the sill, soaking in the familiarity of it all. It was just like you remembered, and a part of you almost hoped you’d see something different. Maybe even someone.

There was no doubt that the room brought memories of Felix flooding right back. You still remembered the way he’d knock on your window, always giving three straight thumps so you’d know it was him. A habit you found funny, remembering that he’d warn you not to open the window for any less than 3 knocks- because “2 knocks could be a serial killer’s greeting. And one knock could be a bear.”

These walls had heard some of the most obscene confessions, seen some of the most indecorous outfits you’d wear for him and only him. And yet, you found solace in knowing that they also housed some of the most intimate crying sessions, giddy laughter, and a blossoming relationship that would follow you so many years later.

You stepped away from the window, finally making way to your bed and lying down with an exasperated sigh. Maybe a part of you hoped Felix was still in town. Maybe a part of you even came here on the off-chance he would come visit.

Thoughts you shoved to the back of your mind, not having the emotional capacity to deal with the idea that you longed to experience it all over again.

Mornings in your parents’ house were nothing like the way they were at Felix’s. Mom was always asleep for the day, having come home early in the morning from her shift. Dad usually wasn’t home.

Such was the way things were when you awoke the next morning, birds chirping outside your window to indicate the start of a new, sunny day. You rolled over in your tangled sheets, squinting heavy eyes at your alarm clock and catching a glimpse of the time.

9:46am.

You’d surprised yourself with how tired you were, stretching your limbs lazily and staring at the blank ceiling above you. When you finally sat up in bed, the smell of breakfast hit your nose instantly.

The house filled with scents of grilled meat and freshly brewed coffee, and you could make out the faint noises of the toaster popping and oil sizzling.

Mom must have prepared breakfast for your return today. You wasted no time putting on your house slippers and bolting out the door to greet her, already appreciative of her kind gesture. When you turned the corner into the kitchen, a foreign sight caught you off guard.

Your mom stood in front of the stove, scrambling eggs around in a frying pan as you’d predicted.

And sat at the dinner table, stuffing forkfuls of Canadian bacon and sips of hot coffee in his mouth, was Felix.

You audibly gasped, and Felix looked up from his plate to acknowledge you.

He wore a plain white t-shirt, his straight hair hung loosely around his face with no particular placement, yet still somehow perfectly styled.

A pair of silver earrings dangled by his neck as he looked up at you, mouth full of food. In an instant, he pushed his chair out from behind him and stood up, saying nothing as he continued to chew. Without the ability to talk, he gave you a small wave, which you ignored.

You were suddenly self-conscious of your own appearance, looking far too casual in a tank top and shorts, house slippers loudly announcing you’d only just woken up. Your hair was still in yesterday’s work bun almost falling out of the flimsy hair tie, and the lack of makeup was more than hard on the eyes.

Before he could finish chewing to get a sentence out, you shouted out to your mom, who still hadn’t noticed your arrival. “Taking a really important work call in the other room, could you keep it down please?”

She shouted back over the loud sounds of oil sizzling.

“Sure thing, but look who’s here! Ah, it’s burning! Hold on,” And she turned her attention back to the stove.

You looked over at Felix again, who’d finished chewing at this point, still standing awkwardly in front of his plate and fiddling his hands together like a lost child.

“Oh… it’s nice to meet you.” You said, with a little bow, turning around quickly and disappearing back into your room.

You refused to entertain this. You weren’t going to give him what he wanted, to pretend he was interested in your life just to get in your pants one more time. You’d humiliated yourself enough the first time.

Back in your room, you locked the door with force and shoved your desk chair under the knob, triple-checking to ensure it couldn’t be opened. You shut the blinds and hopped back into your bed, wrapping the comforter around you and trying your best to steady your breathing. But it was no use; the tears began anyway.

You can’t remember how long you cried- it must have been hours before you drifted off to sleep again. When you woke up for the second time that day, it was well past 5 in the afternoon.

Your skin was sticky with sweat and your hair was begging to be let out of its knotted mess. When you rolled out of bed, a pounding headache made itself present. Crying and sleeping for hours were always a lethal combination.

After a long shower and some time to think it over, you felt small and stupid again. Were you doing the right thing? What was the point of coming here if not for closure? Why were you even here?

A fleeting voice told you to ditch the whole trip and go back to the apartment. Back to your safe space with Mark, where the two of you could marathon dumb movies and make love on the couch like you always did.

But you quickly dismissed the thought, reminding yourself that you weren’t going to let some dumb fling drive you away from a much-needed vacation at your parents’ place. When you confirmed that the coast was clear, you made your way back out to the kitchen, where your mom sat at the dinner table with a book.

“Hi honey,” she said. “We waited for you, figured you got caught up in that work call of yours.” A slight raise of her eyebrow indicated she knew.

You sighed, sitting on the chair across from her.

“Want to tell me what happened?” She asked.

You shook your head. “Things are just difficult right now. I don’t want to get caught up in… things that I shouldn’t.”

She nodded, setting her book down. “He left you a little gift in the corridor.”

Then she got up from her seat and hoisted her purse over her shoulder. “Leaving for the evening- make sure you lock all the windows before you sleep.”

When she was out of sight, you made your way to the corridor, finding a little white box on the console table by the entrance. It was wrapped neatly with a blue ribbon, in typical Felix fashion. You pulled one end, watching the tie come undone, and carefully lifted one end to reveal the contents inside.

The scent hit you before the sight, and you knew instantly. His signature baked goods.

You were up much earlier the next morning. The fresh summer air beckoned you to go outside, which you did, completing an almost 3-mile jog. Post-exercise, you ate a full breakfast, and then called Mark, his phone going straight to voicemail.

It wasn’t typical of Mark to sleep in, but you knew he was busy at the lab late these days, so you opted for a quick text instead.

Late night again? Call me when you can. Love you :)

There was something so freeing about having no plans, no to-do list, and better yet, no monotonous routine like you had most days.It was like you could do anything you wanted while you were here- which you did. You watched old reruns of cartoons, flipped through ancient yearbooks kept in boxes out in the storage shed, and even repaired some of the flawed spots on your walls with a can of white paint you found. You also finished piles of chores around the house for your parents, going so far as to fold and hang all their laundry for them. By the time you’d put away the last of the socks, it was well past 5 in the afternoon.

The loud sound of the doorbell startled you from inside your parents’ shared closet. Had they been expecting any packages? The gardener, perhaps? You cautiously made your way to the front door, smoothing down your blouse and adjusting your shorts that had ridden up while you worked. You unlatched the door and opened it, feeling a drop in your chest as you locked eyes with the figure.

“Hi,” he said, keeping his gaze locked on yours.

You cleared your throat. “Hi…Can I…help you?”

His lips parted slightly, closing again as his expression changed to that of dejection.

“Um… I just came to drop this off.”

You looked at his hands; which clutched a little white envelope.

“Okay,” you replied, reaching out to take it from him. He pulled his hands back a little so that the envelope was just out of reach.

You looked up at him again with a questioning look.

“Did I… I mean, how are you?” He asked awkwardly.

“Me?” You said in reply, feeling annoyed at his persistence for an interaction. “Is this a new mailman greeting? I’m good. Can I get my mail now?”

Your heart dropped as soon as you finished speaking. It was a despicable bit you kept up, enough to hurt even yourself.

His lips pulled together in a thin line, raising his eyebrows and looking down at his feet.

“Ouch. Yeah, here you go.” He handed you the envelope, turning around and marching off without a word.

You watched his head hang as he took confident strides away from you, getting farther out of reach with each passing second.

“Wait,” you called after him, a moot point as he only kept walking.

As soon as he was out of sight, you slammed the front door, eyes welling up with tears as you slid down the door and dropped to the floor. Why had you said something so stupid? You imagined yourself in his shoes briefly, shaking your head at the thought of him reducing your existence to that of a delivery person.

It was the third time this week you’d fucked up a chance at making amends with Felix. And by far the worst one- there was no way he’d be back any time soon. Or ever again, for that matter.

You wiped tears with the back of your hand, suddenly remembering the letter he came here to drop off. After a few deep breaths, you examined it in your shaky hands, thumbing over the ink on the back that spelled your name. His handwriting looked the same as it did so many years ago- so neat and carefully placed. You tore it open timidly, pulling out a little yellow card.

Y/n,

It’s been a while

I hope you still like brownies!

I’m going to the new coffee shop across the street tomorrow if you’d like to join

9am?

PS- I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced!

You read the letter once, then twice, then six more times before you could even comprehend what it was.

Despite your ingenuous behavior all week, he was still willing to try and fix things with you. That was, up until a few minutes ago. The invitation still sat in your hand, but it would be a miracle if he agreed to go anywhere near you after the stunt you pulled.

You tossed the letter aside, burying a tear-stained face in your hands as you began to cry again at the thought that you’d likely never see him again.

He’d slipped through your fingers yet again, only this time, it was entirely your fault.

“You’re wasting your time with lame excuses and lies”

Why were you even trying? In what universe would Felix agree to see you again after the stunt you pulled?

It didn’t matter. Chalk it up to pure delusion and naivety, but you were up bright and early, all dressed up and ready to meet for coffee with him. If he didn’t show, you’d surely owe him an apology, which your ego silently prayed you wouldn’t have to track him down to deliver. And if he did, things would be unbearably awkward. You’d lose either way- but that’s not to say he hadn’t already had his share of loss dealing with your abhorrent attitude.

You were grateful you packed some of your nicer clothes while you stayed at your parents’. You’d settled on a feminine white peasant top, a pair of fitted slacks, and spent the morning curling your hair to convince him you weren’t always an unpresentable slob despite the way you’d appeared all week.

When you arrived, the shop was teeming with young couples and coffee connoisseurs. The lively atmosphere combined with gloomy warm lighting made for a romantic date location- forcing you to remind yourself that this was not in fact a date. You verily assumed it to be a working session- one where you two would sort out the awkward encounters and establish boundaries again. Followed by some brief small talk and a proper send-off so that you could finally shut him out of your mind for good.

A short staircase led you to the upper level, where most of the tables were neatly decorated with glass vases of daisies that thrived in the sun beams illuminated along the rows of windows. You clutched your bag, looking around nervously and trying your best to steady the rapid thump of your heartbeat in your throat. Couples. Couples. A family. A pair of sisters.

And on the last table, Felix.

He looked mature in a sleek white turtleneck and dangly silver earrings, his ashy locks tucked neatly behind both ears. As you approached the table, he looked up for a brief second, shifting his eyes away once again as you pulled out the chair across from him and took a seat.

You waited for him to say something, which he didn’t.

Conversely, your pride didn’t allow you to speak first.

“You’re blonde,” you said suddenly, your voice coming out much shakier than you had anticipated.

He focused on you again, expression unchanged.

“So you do remember me.”

Link to part 2 here

538 notes · View notes

y3ager · 10 months

Text

WE OUTSIDE.

— a night you initially weren’t looking forward to ends in the best way imaginable.

eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: high school au, modern au, marijuana and alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), mild cream pie. minors dni.

DESPITE HOW YOU refused it for months, here you stand in a mansion someone had the money and connections to reserve holding the worst position anyone can have on graduation night: designated driver.

you’re the coveted mom friend, the only one in the group with a level enough head and fear of, you know, dying to make sure you and your girls don’t end up on the morning news the following day. after weeks of promising that they wouldn’t be back home after walking across stage, here they all are enjoying one last night of partying before they all go their separate ways, to different universities and states, some of them never seeing each other again.

obviously you’re not one to knock someone else’s fun, but it’s just not your thing and you knew that with the first party you snuck out to. it’s loud, crowded, and smacking the ass of your friend or fighting your way to the front for a good view of it is only fun for the first 20 or so minutes. it’s three am and no one shows signs of stopping.

you nurse your cocktail of lemonade with a dash of pink whitney because it helps to have something in your hand. you stay off towards the back and hug the wall, watching your peers have fun and dreading when you inevitably have to shove 7 shitfaced girls into one car. three are horny drunks, one does nothing but cry by the end of the night, one more tends to get punchy…

you feel a solid body bump against yours and lurch forward a bit. “sorry!” you shout, but with the bass of the music and everyone’s yelling, they probably don’t even hear you.

“no, you’re fine..” all of a sudden you smell nothing but weed, enough to make your nose wrinkle a bit. he brandishes his blunt to you, obviously inviting you take a hit. that’s what all these parties are, people swapping blunts and taking sips out of bottles and repurposed polar pop cups.

“no, um, i’m good..” your better judgement starts to kick in, even though you’re probably the only person in the entire house using some right about now. it could be filled with god knows what, what if your job springs up a surprise drug test, you’re not supposed to take anything from a damn stranger!

a little voice in the very back of your head reminds you that this is your problem: playing it safe, keeping your head down, abstaining from doing anything even mildly reckless.

you reach your hand up and pluck the glowing blunt from the strange boy’s slender fingers and pop it between your glossed lips. a quick toke fills your lungs, streams out from your nose and makes you give out a quick cough. “thank you,” you say dumbly, honestly, as you pass it back to him. who the fuck says thank you after that? “sorry for the, uh.. gloss.”

“you’re fine,” he says again, popping the joint right back into his mouth, coconut flavored gloss from the beauty supply store be damned. you finally get a chance to really look at him, the flashing strobe lights momentarily illuminating his face. tanned skin, green eyes tinted just a smidge red, and dark brown hair pulled back into a bun, a light sheen of sweat making the baby hairs stick to his forehead. he nods to your cup. “what’s that?”

“that.. oh! oh.” you look down at your cup, suddenly feeling awkward for staring so intently. “lemonade with.. uh.. pink whitney.” you realize how close he is to you, nudged forward by the many bodies and his interest in what you’re saying, and it makes you sweat. “do you want some?” looking back up, you hold the cup out to him. “it’s not that strong, i have to drive later…”

he shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pushing the drink back into your bubble. “keep it.” he looks down at you, taking in your brown eyes framed by your freshly done lash extensions, accented with a thin strip of one of your school’s colors, your cropped shirt and skin tight biker shorts, comfortable but exposing a lot of your gleaming brown skin. “designated driver, huh? your friends sound mean dumping you with that job. you having fun?”

you shrug, heating up even more under his hungry gaze. he’s so fine, if you look fast enough, a tongue ring is getting caught by the flashing lights when he opens his mouth to speak. “it’s okay, i don’t like getting shit faced, and, you know…” you look off to your left to see that four of your friends have successfully made it onto the stage. “it’s fun watching them have fun.” when you look back at him, he’s holding his blunt back out, and you take it again without even being told to. “thank you.” you blow out another cloud of smoke and pass it back to him. “it could.. be a little quieter, i guess?” another body passing through makes you lurch forward. “with less people?”

he laughs again and holds his joint between his teeth. “you wanna leave then?”

your inner mom comes back out again, and you look to your left, scanning for your friends. you’re supposed to stick together, you have to keep an eye out on them, they’re all supposed to know where everyone is in case anything crazy pops off. “i.. i shouldn’t leave my friends…” you shuffle unsurely on your feet, “i don’t know.”

“text them,” he offers. then he points off into the general direction when he assumes they’re at, based on where you’re looking. “or go tell one of them. we’re just going up to a room upstairs. they’ll be okay, and you’ll be okay. we’ll come back down when you’re ready.”

fuck it. you think. you whip your phone out of your purse and type up a quick message in the groupchat that they probably won’t check, but at least you told them. ‘going upstairs for a bit’ “okay,” you say as it sends. “let’s go.”

thirty minutes later, the blunt is completely gone and the stranger—no, eren’s tongue is deep in your mouth, working against yours while his hand holds your face firmly in place. your manicured hands have pulled his hair out of its haphazard bun with all your tugging and pulling and you’re doing everything you can to hide your wanton moans. he’s just such a good kisser…

eren pulls away slightly to look down into your glazed over eyes, the sound of your blood rushing and your heart pounding rivaling the sound of the music booming downstairs. “pretty girl,” he mumbles. your kissing has long left your gloss awry, and he rubs an errant mark away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “feelin’ good?”

“yeah,” you whisper breathlessly, his kiss swollen lips calling you back in and he laughs as your mouth meets his again. either he pushes you down into some stranger’s bed, or you pull him on top of you, but now you’re on your back and he’s looking down at you, with one hand trailing down, down, down…

and you’re doing nothing to stop him.

deftly, eren pulls off your biker shorts, and catches your thigh before you can instinctively close them off from his sight. “so fucking wet already…” he remarks as he pulls your panties down until they eventually fall down to your ankles. you kick them off, and brazenly, boldly, spread your brown lips for him, the white of your long french tip acrylics a beautiful contrast to your chestnut skin and perfect pink center.

“fuck, ___,” eren groans, mouth almost watering at the sight. he wants to devour you so bad. “you’re trying to kill me. you were so shy earlier. that changes when you wanna get fucked, huh?” your whimper at his last comment makes him grin. “now hold these up.” he commands, reference your legs as he pushes your knees up to your chest, prostrating yourself before him for his perusal. he’s laying down now, his aching crotch now rubbing against the bed in a welcome wave of pleasure.

the noises eren begins to make on your pussy are downright pornographic, the spitting, smacking, slurping, feasting on your drooling cunt as if it’s his last meal. his tongue is everywhere, going from swirling your clit around to dragging against your inner lips, that damned tongue ring never far behind. it’s nearly too much for your poor cunt, but the focused glare he gives you with his blown out green eyes deters you from bringing your legs down and diminishing the access he has to you.

“e-eren! oh, god!” the sound of your wetness makes your ears burn in embarrassment, it’s just so fucking messy. you catch a sight of the mess you’ve made on his chin when he momentarily comes up for air, only to dive right back in. his plump, pillowy lips latch firmly on your throbbing clit, making your eyes roll back into your head and a shaky moan escape your own lips. “eren, please..!” you writhe against the sheets, his expert mouth overwhelming, you’re not a virgin but, god, if he keeps up.. “e-eren, eren, i’m…!”

“c’mon, baby,” he mumbles between suckling, open mouthed kisses, and drags of his skillful tongue. “give it t’ me, don’t be scared. i gotcha.”

his words make your greedy hole pulse around nothing, and a mix of a moan and a week sob escapes your throat. thighs spasming, you pointlessly attempt to close your legs again only for him to continue holding them open as he drowns your cunt in sloppy kisses, determined to savor every last drop.

“good girl,” his sinful voice rumbles against your core. “good, good fucking girl…” as he pulls away, that tongue darts out to sweep up the last remnants of your heavenly juices. “c’mere..” those strong hands grab at you hips pulling your pliant body towards him near the edge of the bed. “y’ready?”

“yeah, yeah…” emotions flood through your head, lust, need, want, you’re ready to beg for him inside you if he wants you to. faintly, you hear the sound of clothing hitting the floor, but that’s the least of your worries right now. “‘ren, please..” he taps his leaking, blushing tip against your pulsing clit one, two, three times to make you sigh. “please, please..”

“y’doin’ all that beggin’…” now eren’s easing in, hissing at the feeling of you gripping him so tight, walls soft and wet. he throws his head back at the new sensation of your cunt greedily sucking him in, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and his tanned fingers tightening in a bruising grip on your hips. “fuck,” he groans under his breath, the underlying whine in his voice makes your body grow hot. “fucking- relax, or-”

“oh, g-god..” you stutter, feeling full, and hot, and greedy. “‘s so.. big, eren.” your manicured hand rests against his toned torso in a fruitless attempt to stop him, but his hips meet yours and the two of you whine in unison. “fuck!”

“quit that. take it.” eren swats your hand away from his stomach and tosses your legs up to place them on his shoulders, effectively treating you like a little doll for him to fuck on. slowly, easily, he pulls his hips back only to push them forward again, progressively beginning to get drunk off the feeling of your perfect cunt. “so fucking good,” he mutters. “so, so fucking good.”

the slow drag of his cock against your walls begins to have the same intoxicating effect on you, making you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and whine, low and wanton as you clamp down onto him. you open your eyes, which you didn’t even realize were closed, and stare deep into his green-gray eyes. oh, you’re screwed now.

“fuck yes,” he huffs. eren buries his face in your neck, biting, sucking, leaving hot kisses on your damp as he chases his high and quickly begins to bring to your second. the feeling of your acrylics clawing and digging into the skin of his back only spurs him on more, the music downstairs secondary to the dizzying sound of skin slapping against. “‘s your dick, baby, cum on it for me.”

and you do, shame be damned as your back arches off from the tousled sheets and cry out his name, letting any poor passerby know exactly what’s going on just feet away from the firmly closed door, and exactly who’s fucking you just that good. eren bottoms out with a low groan that reverberates from his chest, a breathless chuckle passing his lips as his cum shoots in deep only to spill back out when he withdraws.

“pretty girl,” he calls out, pulling you out of your fucked out daze. one hand reaches up to wipe the drool from the side of your mouth while the other rubs at your spent, used cunt. your eyes roll back down to look demurely back at his.

“you got another one in you?”

a/n: obligatory plot but this has been in the drafts since january 2022…… it’s time to release her 😭 could i have updated it from high school grad night yeah i could’ve but mannnn…. just relive them days chile

#🏙.aotmodern #❤️‍🔥.aotsmut #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #eren x black reader #eren yeager x black reader #eren x black reader smut #eren yeager x black reader smut

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bagopucks · 1 year

Text

A. Matthews - Winter Flu

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 4.1k

Warning(s): mention of throwing up, reader’s kid is sick, parental insecurities, little bit of angst.

The point of view for this does use you when talking about the reader, simply because this was a request that had more so to do with Auston and Hudson. So I didn’t put it in first person. Also, long as shit, so I proofread ONCE.

Also! With the summer season approaching, those of you who submitted requests with the lake house, and Hughes brothers. Requests that I haven’t gotten to yet. Look forward to those! Once I get past the wisdom teeth surgery, and the end of this senior year. It is solid with the summer content.

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“I’ll call the school and let them know you’re on your way.”

“They’ll let me pick him up?”

“Yeah. You’ll just have to give your full name and phone number.”

“Do I need an ID?”

“Probably not, Aus. It’s not that formal.”

Auston pulled gently at the dainty silver lightning bolt that hung from his earring. A Christmas gift from the lovely woman he grew so close to. You’d celebrated at home with Auston, and found a nanny to celebrate with his team when he invited you. The holiday had passed, as did New Years, but the decorations in both your and his homes were still up. Auston left his up because Hudson liked to look at them. You left yours up because you didn’t have time to take them down.

He was nervous. It had been the first time you asked him to pick Hudson up from school. But these were special circumstances. The school day was far from over, and Hudson was sick. Auston had to leave his morning skate early to be there, still dressed in a pair of compression pants and shorts, and a black t-shirt with his number on the sleeve. He stepped into the building, and stood by the window that looked into the office. He’d never looked after a sick kid before. Maybe the Marleau boys right after they got over a cold, but never in the midst of sickness.

“Hello. How can we help you today?” An older woman approached the window with a clip board, setting it down on the counter and sliding it through the window as she opened it.

“I’m here to pick up Hudson?” Auston hadn’t even considered using a last name. There was surely only one sick Hudson.

“Right. His mom called and said a friend would be in.”

Auston’s deep brown eyes immediately lifted from the clip board.

“Write your name and number here, and we’ll let you in the office while somebody finds him.”

Auston slowly scrawled his name and number out, sliding the clip board back in the woman’s direction. He would have texted you if you weren’t in the middle of a meeting. Auston stepped into the office when the woman opened the door, finding a seat in one of the plastic chairs.

A second secretary left the office, and Auston was left in an awkward silence, the woman in the room occasionally glancing up at him.

“Are you the kid’s dad?” Such a question surprised and offended him. Auston wasn’t even sure why. Possibly because of the tone in the woman’s voice.

“Kinda? I’ve been with his mom for a while.”

“I wondered.” He tensed, watching her disinterested eyes focus on something else.

Was it an insult? Did it have to do with the last name thing? Or the simple fact that he wasn’t related? He hated to think it would have been anything else. Auston’s jaw set, and for a moment he considered telling the woman off. He could recall the endless amounts of times his mother had never taken such disrespect. Even his father. But he refrained.

The second secretary entered the office soon after, with Hudson, sluggishly following behind.

“Mom?” He had called before his eyes even left the floor. His need for his mother made Auston feel even less prepared than before. He didn’t have the qualifications for this.

“Mom’s in a meeting, bud.” Auston gained Hudson’s attention, watching the boy’s eyes widen. Hudson sniffled and quickly walked over to hug Auston. He looked pale, but flushed in the cheeks. And he certainly felt warm.

“I wanna go home.” Hudson whined softly, and Auston slowly guided him back a few steps so he could stand up.

“That’s where we’re headed, little man.” He put his hand out, and Hudson quickly held onto it. “I’ll take your bag.” Auston held his other hand out, and took hold of Hudson’s book bag after the boy shimmied it off. “Thanks, guys.” Auston was swift to speak to the secretaries before he led Hudson out of the office and eventually out of the school building all together.

“How long is mom in a meeting?”

“Probably another hour or so. It’s just you and me for a bit. Your mom said you got sick?”

“Yeah.” Hudson sounded as exhausted as he looked. Once they got to his car, Auston tossed the boy’s bag in the back and helped him hop in and get buckled.

“If you need to throw up, you let me know, okay?” Hudson merely nodded, leaning back into the seat to get comfortable. If he wasn’t sick, his first complaint would have been about the lack of a car seat. But everything had happened so swiftly that morning, that there wasn’t really time for meeting up and taking the one out of your car. Perhaps it was just time to get one of his own.

Auston carefully shut the car door and walked around to the front, sliding in and turning the key in the ignition.

“Do you wanna listen to anything?”

“Uncle Mitchy’s music.” Hudson spoke softly. Auston hated to admit it, but he was always a little jealous of Mitch for getting the title of ‘uncle.’ Auston was patient. He knew Hudson was the only person who could grant him the title of, ‘father,’ but he hoped his face would light up the same way Mitch’s had. He hoped he’d feel that same overwhelming excitement.

Auston connected his phone to the car and opened Spotify to find Mitch’s profile and public playlists. One labeled ‘kiddos’ that he used around Patty’s kids, and Hudson. A plethora of music that ranged from Baby Shark to Kids Bop and Disney. Auston hated Baby Shark, but not near as much as Hudson did. So when that song came on, he skipped it swiftly.

“Can I lay down when we get home?”

Auston glanced in the rear view mirror as he backed out of his parking space.

“For sure, bud. Whatever you want.”

“Do you have Gatorade?”

Oh boy.

“No, sorry. We can check your mom’s fridge though.”

“I really want Gatorade.” Auston could hear the quiver in Hudson’s voice as he pulled out onto the road. The drive back to your place was short, and he was thankful for that. But he was more so worried about the protocol for not having something the kid wanted. Did you go out and get it? Was he supposed to call you? What if Hudson didn’t want an alternative?

When he pulled into the driveway, Auston was quick to park the car and hop out, opening Hudson’s back door to see the kid hunched over and asleep.

“Hudsy,” Auston carefully nudged him. Hudson winced, but his eyes fluttered open. He looked in distress for a moment before his face twisted into discomfort. Auston unbuckled the seatbelt and held his arms out. Hudson quickly moved to the edge of the seat and allowed Auston to pick him up. Once they got inside, Auston set Hudson down. He kicked his shoes off and considered his next options. Hudson quickly walked over to the couch to sit down, curling in on himself.

“You okay, bud?” Hudson merely nodded, and despite Auston’s uncertainty, he decided to go with it. Just for a moment.

Auston slipped down the hall into the boy’s room. He grabbed a blanket off the bed and a little dinosaur stuffed animal. As well as finding a pair of shorts and a comfy shirt Hudson could change into. Comfort always came first when sick. Auston walked back out into the living room, tossing the items onto the love seat before slipping off into the kitchen.

He barely had any more time to think before Auston heard a familiar shuffling in the living room. And heavy footsteps pattering down the hall. He was swift to follow.

“Hudson?” Auston had just barely made it into the bathroom, when the boy started to throw up. His initial reaction was to groan and look away, but Auston had to remind himself he was the adult in this situation.

“It’s okay. Just- you just gotta.. let it out.” His disgust shifted into immediate concern when he heard the quiet cries from the boy. Auston’s brow furrowed, slowly stepping into the bathroom. He grabbed a paper towel when Hudson finally sat on the floor, his body trembling from the exertion, but finally able to relax for a moment. Auston swiftly sat on the floor next to him, taking up most if not all of the space in the tiny bathroom.

“Here,” he held out the paper towel, and Hudson slowly took it, wiping his face and tossing the towel in the trash beside the toilet. Hudson leaned his head against the side of the toilet bowl, gross any other day, but Auston was a kid once too. He knew how easy it was to forget about everything else in the midst of sickness. A cold surface was a cold surface, and it was easing on a raging temperature.

“I want mom,” Hudson’s quiet voice quivered and squeaked, tears falling down his cheeks at a rapid pace. Auston’s chest tightened. He wasn’t cut out for this.

“I’m sorry.” It was a scary feeling, wanting to help somebody and not feeling equipped to do so. Especially when it was the kid you’d grown so close to.

“Please call my mom.” Auston hated hearing those words every time they were spoken, because there was nothing he could do.

“I can’t, Hudsy. She’s busy. I promise she’ll be home soon.” Auston carefully reached out to rest a hand on the boy’s back. Hudson shrugged him off and looked away.

“Hudson.” Auston spoke gently, earning the boy’s gaze. “Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, but he could tell he struck a nerve when Hudson began to cry harder. The little boy inched across the floor to hug Auston, sobbing into his shoulder. It was the first time he’d been sick without his mother. The first time she hadn’t had to leave work to pick him up. Hudson didn’t know how to feel.

“Can you tell me what your mom does when you get sick?”

Auston may not have been the most experienced with kids, but he was still smart.

Hudson wiped the tears from his cheeks, the quiet sporadic breaths interrupting his attempts to speak.

“Take your time.” Auston encouraged gently, rubbing the boy’s back. They sat quietly for a few minutes before Hudson managed to calm down. Exhaustion filled his red eyes, slowly pulling his head out of Auston’s shoulder.

“She lets me lay on the couch.. and I have stuff to drink. And she puts on tv.” He sniffled.

“What do you like to watch?” Auston asked as he brought a hand up to wipe the tears from Hudson’s cheeks.

“Spider-Man.”

“What? No way!” Auston feigned excitement. “Me too.” Maybe not the cartoon Spider-Man, but he grew up with the old movies.

“Really?” Hudson winced, one of his hands holding his stomach. Auston took notice of the action, continuing to rub the kid’s back.

“Yup. I have some stuff for you to change into, that’s a little more comfortable. And I got you a blanket and a stuffed animal. How’s that sound?”

“Good.” Hudson swallowed and nodded.

“I’ll go get your clothes, and you can change in here.” Auston stood up, quick to flush the toilet before he slipped out of the bathroom. He walked back down the hall to the living room, grabbing the change of clothes and turning to go back in the direction he came. He smiled softly at the sight of Hudson standing in the hall, waiting for him.

“Can you stay out here while I change?” Hudson slowly took the clothes from Auston’s hands. The hockey player nodded.

“I’ll be right outside the door.” Hudson slipped back into the bathroom at the promise. He pushed it halfway shut, and Auston leaned back against the wall opposite of the bathroom, waiting patiently. When Hudson came back out, he rubbed at his eyes and looked toward Auston expectantly.

“Where’s your other clothes?” Auston questioned.

“On the floor.” Hudson’s response earned a quiet chuckle from the man. He’d pick up the clothes later.

Auston led Hudson back down the hall, grabbing the blanket and the stuffed animal from the love seat.

“Go ahead and get comfy on the couch.” He watched Hudson climb up and lay down. Auston quickly draped the blanket over him, tucking the bottom under the boy’s feet and dropping the dinosaur stuffed animal on his chest. It earned a quiet and weak giggle from Hudson.

“We need one more thing.” Auston reached for the throw pillow at the opposite end of the couch. “Pick your head up.” Hudson did as told, sighing quietly after Auston slipped the pillow behind his head.

“Alright. I’m gonna go grab you something to drink.”

“You’ll be back?” Hudson asked quietly.

“I promise.” Auston slipped into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and rummaged through it before he found Sprite. Not Gatorade, but still good for sickness. He found a plastic cup to pour it in, with a few ice cubes. He popped a lid on the cup and found a straw, slipping it through the hole. Auston walked back into the living room, placing the cup down on the coffee table.

“Thanks, Aus.” Hudson whispered. Auston hated how miserable he sounded.

“No problem, dude.” He reached for the tv remote and turned the tv on. Auston flipped through various channels before he found Disney. “Spider-Man comes on after Frozen.”

Hudson whined out a complaint.

“I know, but I don’t think there’s much left of this movie.” Auston set the remote down.

“Can you sit?” Hudson whispered.

“On the couch?”

“No.. right here.” Hudson pointed to the floor by his head. “Please.” Auston made his way over and sat on the floor. He leaned back against the couch, his head resting on the front of the arm. Hudson let out a sigh before his hand rested on Auston’s shoulder.

“Mommy usually cleans.” He mumbled. “So nobody else gets sick.” Auston raised a brow.

“Do you want me to clean?” He turned his head to peek at Hudson.

“No. Just sit with me.” Auston nodded and slipped his phone from his pocket. He hadn’t heard from you. He set the device aside and reached a hand up to rest on the one Hudson placed on his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be alright, I promise. You just need a little time.”

“Auston?”

“What’s up?” Silence followed as Auston’s eyes settled on the tv, brow risen in expectancy. Waiting for Hudson to talk, but he never did. “Hudson?” Auston turned his head to look at the kid, who avoided eye contact. “What’s goin on, Buddy?”

“Don’t be mean, okay?” To say Auston was surprised was an understatement.

“I’d never. You know that.” He squeezed Hudson’s hand.

“Can I sit with you?”

“Yeah, come on.” Auston swiftly tugged the blanket off Hudson. He couldn’t imagine ever saying no or being mean about such a question. The boy needed comfort, and he was certain he could provide.

Hudson slowly slid off the couch, holding onto his dinosaur. He sat on the floor next to Auston and immediately leaned into his side while Auston wrapped the blanket around his legs.

“Better?” Auston whispered after Hudson got comfortable. The boy nodded. Auston draped an arm over his shoulders.

“Can I have my drink?”

“It’s not Gatorade, but it’s sprite.”

“That’s okay.” Hudson held his hands out as Auston grabbed the cup and handed it over. The boy took a few sips before he set the cup on the coffee table within reach. Auston felt Hudson heave out a breath, the kid’s full weight resting on his side. He peeked down at Hudson a few times to see his face focused on the tv. He may have gotten sick of Frozen from watching it all the time, but the boy still loved watching Elsa sing. He said she sounded like his mom. Auston didn’t quite believe it until he heard you sing Hudson to sleep one night.

Auston smirked the moment he heard Hudson’s soft whispers, quiet mumbled words following the tune on the tv. He moved his arm to rest on the couch cushion behind them, carefully smoothing down Hudson’s hair. He didn’t know what else to do other than let him rest. Soon, Hudson’s whispered words ceased, and he fell asleep.

Auston didn’t move. He didn’t want to. He was comfortable and happy where he was. It was an odd thing to be happy about, but he wanted to have these moments. He wanted to feel like Hudson was his kid. You only called because it was an emergency, but to know he was trusted with something like this, it made him happy. To take that stress off your shoulders, and to know a kid trusted him as much as he trusted his mother.

Auston lost track of the time as he sat there. His body started to ache, but he kept himself distracted with texting and watching whatever he could find in the tv. He was hopeful that Hudson had gotten whatever out of his system, seeing as he hadn’t woken up with any nausea. And you did say he didn’t stay sick long when he was throwing up, but Auston tried not to get too ahead of himself.

He felt far less worried when he heard the sound of a car door in the front drive. Auston sat up, placing his phone aside in hopes of greeting you from the floor. You opened the door slowly, stepping inside and wincing when your purse clinked against the door. Your eyes met Auston’s before trailing toward Hudson. It was relieving to see Auston had seemingly handled the situation well.

“He’s out?” You asked softly.

“Definitely.”

“If you give me like.. five minutes? I’ll change and put my stuff away, and you can go.”

Auston’s brow furrowed.

“I can stay.”

“Are you sure?” You pushed the door shut, slipping your flats off. Over time, you’d gotten much less argumentative over Auston’s consistent offers to be present.

“Yeah. He said you usually clean. If you want, you can come sit with him and I’ll clean.” You smiled and shook your head.

“He looks too comfy. I’ll clean real quick.” He didn’t touch much this morning, so it’ll be fast.” Auston nodded and flashed you a quick smile.

“Did he throw up at all when you brought him home?”

“Just once.”

“Alright.” Your eyes lingered on Hudson. “We’ll see how he feels when he’s up, and maybe I’ll make some soup.”

You couldn’t have been more grateful for the assistance. Able to clean without having to worry about Hudson waking up alone or getting sick without anybody around.

Another hour passed before you were carefully shaking Hudson awake, a sad sigh falling from your lips at the sight of his exhaustion.

“Momma?”

“I’m here.” You whispered, running a hand through his hair. Auston smiled at the simple interaction.

“How are you feeling, honey?”

“Okay.”

“Your stomach?”

“Okay.” Hudson shrugged.

“You wanna try to eat? And we can watch a movie?”

“Yeah.”

You and Auston shared looks before you stood to slip into the kitchen.

“Auston?”

“Still here.” Hudson reached out to grip the sleeve of Auston’s shirt, yawning and leaning back into his side.

“Why don’t you get up on the couch?”

“Pick me up?” Hudson peeked up at Auston, mustering up a pouty face.

“Fine.” Auston smirked, slowly standing up. He leaned forward and scooped Hudson up, setting him down on the couch. Hudson curled up beneath his blanket, setting his dinosaur aside.

“Good?”

“Yeah.”

“You mind if I go see your mom real quick?”

Hudson huffed and rolled his eyes. He had his mother’s sass even when he wasn’t feeling the best.

“I’ll allow it.”

Auston feigned shock before laughing quietly. His amusement brought a prideful smile to Hudson’s lips. He still looked exhausted and small, but he was feeling good enough for a bit of humor.

“Not too long though.” Hudson pointed a finger at him.

“Yes, sir.” Auston teased before he left the living room. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment before he made his way over to the stove where you stood.

“Goin’ good in here?” You jolted, almost hitting Auston before you turned to him.

“Jesus, Aus!” He shushed you immediately, laughing quietly.

“Sorry, sorry.” You smiled. “Shouldn’t you be watching a kid?”

“He told me I could come see you.”

“Oh he told you.” You taunted softly.

“He’s pretty gracious, actually.”

The both of you laughed softly, and you watched as Auston folded his arms across his chest, leaning his hip against the counter.

“What are you making?”

“Chicken soup.”

“Smells good.”

“It’s canned.” You shrugged, “nothing homemade.”

“My mom used to add paprika and garlic powder when I was sick. She said it helped.”

“I have a feeling Hudson won’t like paprika.” You laughed. Auston shrugged and reached for your arm.

“It did help though.” Auston informed you as he ran his hand up your arm, carefully stepping behind you to rub your shoulder.

“That feels nice.”

“We should go out soon.”

“I think for now we should just worry about Hudson.”

“That’s fine. I’m just bringing it up.” Auston brought his other hand to the opposite shoulder. Despite his words, you knew his persuasive methods.

“If you can find a babysitter, we’ll discuss it.” You entertained the idea.

“What about the woman that usually does it?Danielle?”

“She’s busy these next few weeks.”

“Mitch?” Auston tried.

“Will Steph be there?”

“That’s a fair point. I’ll have to ask when we decide a day.”

“If Steph isn’t there, I don’t think I fully trust Mitch with my kid.”

“Yeah me either.” Auston pressed a kiss to your head, pulling away at the sound of his name from the other room.

“Times up, Cinderella.” You teased, waving your hand in a dismissive manner.

“You almost done?”

“Soon, Aus. Go find a movie for us to watch.”

Auston nodded and slipped out of the kitchen.

“Alright, Hudsy. What movie do you wanna watch?” Hudson patted the empty space on the couch next to himself. Auston quickly sat down. Hudson handed his dinosaur over.

“Can you hold him?”

“Sure.” Auston tucked the green Dino between his arm and his hip as he picked up the tv remote from the floor, then the second remote for the streaming services.

“You wanna pick a movie?”

“Can we watch Cars?”

“Absolutely.” Auston worked on finding the movie while you finished the soup, pouring it into three separate bowls before carrying the first two into the living room. A plastic one for Hudson, and a glass one for Auston.

“Thanks, momma.”

“Yeah, this is awesome.” Hudson always had manners, but you liked to think Auston’s example helped solidify them. Auston’s example helped with a lot of things.

“I’ll be right back.” You disappeared back into the kitchen to grab your own bowl with a few paper towels. When you came back into the living room, you set the items on the coffee table, and walked over to the lights to shut them off. In turn, you flicked the lamp by the couch on.

“You still feeling okay, Hudson?” You asked as he sipped on a spoonful of soup.

“I think so.”

“Just don’t eat too fast, okay?” You added swiftly, and he nodded. You sat down on the couch opposite of Auston, Hudson in between.

“Do you care if your dinosaur sits on top of the couch for now?” Auston asked, “just while I eat?”

Hudson seemed to contemplate the idea before nodding, and Auston set the dinosaur on the top of the couch behind his head.

“Don’t let him fall.” Hudson spoke softly, glancing up at Auston.

“I won’t.” Auston pressed play on the streaming remote.

It only took Hudson a few minutes to eat what he wanted. After that, he’d asked you to set his bowl aside, and you did. He waited for you to finish eating before curling up against your side.

“Still feeling good?” You asked as you ran a hand over his hair.

“Yeah.” He paused. “Auston?”

“Sup?”

“Come on.” Hudson waved for him to come closer. Auston smiled and quickly closed the space between himself and the duo. Hudson got comfortable between the two adults, and Auston tossed his arm over the couch, his hand just barely resting on your shoulder.

“Am I going to school tomorrow?” Hudson asked, peeking up at you.

“It’s probably a good idea to keep you home and make sure you’re okay.”

“I thought you worked tomorrow?” Auston chimed in.

“I can do my stuff from home. But a sidekick is always welcome if you have time before your game.”

“Definitely.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews blurb #auston matthews #auston matthews imagine

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rowdyhughesy · 1 year

Text

Like father like son - Jack Hughes

“ you have chaos in your soul and lightning in your veins. You my dear were made for wild, magical things “

- erin matlock

word count: 1.2K

There's a lot of things you'd like to say in this moment, things you'd like to do as you watch him stand in front of the mirror. Lip tucked between his teeth and nervous features on his face. But you know that what you have to say won't make a difference so you stay silent. Newly painted fingernails twisting and turning the ring on your fingers, a habit you've developed since you got married.

It's not until familiar arms wrap around your shoulders, the hands grabbing yours to stop your anxious fiddling that you get out of your head. "Breath Sweets, I'm starting to think you're more nervous than he is." Jack chuckles pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Turning your head you lower your voice, scared that you're gonna make your son even more anxious if he hears your conversation.

"I'm just worried he's going to be disappointed." Jack gives you a lazy smile in return. Giving you a quick peck he walks over to your oldest grabbing the tie that lays discarded on the hotel bed.

It warms your heart, watching Jack walk over to Lake, bumping his shoulder against the teenagers in greeting. How they share small words between each other as he helps him with his tie.

It brings to back to Lakes first picture day in preschool. You’d styled his unruly curls -he got those from Jack- and he had whined about how the dress-shirt was itchy while Jack helped him tie his shoes for a solid 5 minutes.

“What do you think mom?” Lake does a twirl showing you his finished product. Dark green suit making him look more tan than he already is and the brown curls are falling in his eyes. You’d told him to get a haircut but he had been persistent in not ruining his precious flow. Faint freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

Blinking away the tears that are forming you stride over, tugging the tall boy close in a hug. “You look so handsome baby.” Is all you can muster up between the sniffles. Lake gives you his signature look when he thinks you’re embarrassing. It often comes out when you’re at his games screaming so loud you can hear it on the other side of the rink.

Jack feeling left out pulls both of you into a group hug. The three of you stay like that for a while, reminiscing back to when it were only the three of you for a solid 5 years. Back in your apartment in Newark, before you bought the house in Hoboken. Before the twins were born.

It was free days with no practice, games, school or work spent playing street hockey and eating breakfast for dinner. It was Lake scoring a goal on Luke for the first time at 5 and a big toothless smile as he jumps in Jacks arms screaming daddy did you see that?

Things weren’t as hectic but it’s all the chaos, road trips and early practices that brought you here and it’s all you could wish for.

This day is all about Lake.

A small knock on the door catches your attention. Giving Jack a look as to say I've got it you wrap your hand around the handle opening it. In the hallway stands your families. The twins Parker and Kaiden come barrelling in like the tornado they usually are as soon as the door opens. A laughing Luke following after along with Quinn who gives you an apologetic smile. "They couldn't wait any longer to see you guys I'm sorry."

“It’s fine Quinn.”

Kaiden seems to have found interest in pestering Lake per usual, babbling in his ear about how he’s better than him at hockey to which Lake only puts him in a headlock. Knuckles ruffling the blonde hair as Kaiden screams for Parker to save him.

Parker isn’t listening to his pleads though because he’s fully concentrated on watching something on Luke’s phone.

The pair of them more best friends than uncle and nephew. Jack believes it has something to do with the fact that both of them are the youngest out of three brothers. You think it’s because Luke is secretly Parker’s hero.

“Kai stop annoying him. Lake don’t give your brother knuckles he’ll go bald if you do that shit” Jack finally breaks Lake and Kaiden apart, having grown tired of their fighting. Kaiden stares at his dad astonished for a second before his head whips around glaring at his older brother.

“I’ll never get any girls if you make me bald asshole!”

“Kaiden language!”

Your knee is bouncing up and down in your seat, hand tightly holding onto Jack’s in a futile attempt to calm your nerves. Lake is biting his lip again but it’s pointless to say anything because he will continue doing it until his name is called.

You know he doesn’t anticipate being picked first overall, his numbers are even better than Jacks were during his draft year but Lake is a realist. Something he got from Jim, he knows he can be number one but there’s other players equally as good so he waits.

The start of the draft before the picks start going off has you even more anxious. Why is it taking so long?

When the spokesperson for the New York Islander steps up on the stage you grab Lake’s hand on instinct. Giving it reassuring squeeze as to say it’s okey. He squeezes right back. One hand running through his hair just as the man in a suit speaks up.

“The New York Islanders are proud to select as first overall from university of Michigan. Lake Hughes.” Before the announcer even has the chance to say the full name you and Jack are up on your feet cheering. Lake stands up with his eyes wide as if he can’t believe what just happened. Like he’s waiting for someone to wake him up.

You whisper how proud you are and how much you love him in your sons ear as he hugs you. Silent tears spilling from your eyes and you don’t even try to hide it because this is all he’s ever wanted and it happened.

Jack brings Lake into the tightest hug you’ve ever seen and that’s saying a lot since he’s always hugging your kids whenever he has the chance.

“I love you Lake. Now go up there and show them what being a Hughes means alright? I’m proud of you buddy.” Jack wipes away his tears when he thinks nobody’s looking but you all see it.

Lake walks down the stairs, shaking peoples hand with a toothy grin as he goes. Handing off his suit jacket when he reaches the stage and shakes more hands before the jersey is given to him.

Turning to Jack you find him already looking at you, glassy eyes and soft smile.

“You did that.” You tell him and he only shakes his head before kissing you.

“No baby, we did that. Together.” And it makes you giddy.

Yeah you did that, you made an awesome kid who loves hockey.

His skill set aren’t thanks to you though because you’re a lousy shot and fall on your ass most of the time when on the ice. The hockey? The hockey is all thanks to Jack.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #dad!jack hughes imagine

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rustedhearts · 1 year

Text

Severed Lamb Part I: Blessed Be (Pastor!Steve x Fem!reader)

summary: your visit home for the summer comes with a handsome new preacher, who takes a special liking to you.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♰ the steve collection ♰

♰ part ii: poor thing ♰

warnings: religious imagery/trauma, manipulation, abuse of power, age-gap (reader is 19, steve is 35), allusions to child abuse (you gotta squint, but the mom does some icky shit), mention of death/parent loss.

author's note: some dark stuff happening in this series, y'all, so read the warnings and take them seriously! i’m not responsible for your internet-intake. for the sake of this fic, i’ve given you (the reader) the name delilah (because 'y/n' just looks ugly and ruins my vibe). also delilah is a ballerina.

♰ Wyndgate, Georgia June 1981 ♰

The Georgian heat was insufferable.

A stiff, sticky heat that swells in your hair and bloats your cheeks. It made wading through the overgrown field of your childhood backyard a miserable task. But your mother requested fresh cherries from the tree, and you weren't one to deny your mother of her needs. You carried the old porcelain bowl, hand-painted with delicate lilacs, toward the tree in the distance, smacking off mosquitos and shooing away flies as you went.

When you reached the tree, you set the bowl on the ground and began to climb. The bark of the trunk felt just as it did when you were a child: solid, rough, mossy sandpaper against your palms. You wiped off the bark fragments on your denim shorts and began to pluck. Years of picking cherries gave you a keen eye for the ripest selections: plump, gleaming swells of red. You shoved a few into your cheeks before sliding down to fill the bowl.

The bowl was half-full and your stomach was full of cherry stem knots by the time you headed back toward the house. Birds chirped their evening goodbyes in the trees chasing the horizon line. Cicadas shook their wings and crickets rubbed their legs to make a chittering symphony. Just beyond the looming oak trees, the sun began to fade into a blur of gold and pink. The clouds looked like they were delicately etched by hand.

"Those for anybody?"

You jumped, hands slipping around the porcelain bowl clutched against your stomach at the sound of a deep voice before you. You steadied, tightened your grip, and settled your gaze upon the figure standing in front of you—a man. A handsome man. A crop of fluffy chestnut hair, a set of round copper eyes, a perfectly-sloped, straight nose, and a set of properly pink lips. Around his neck, he wore an intricate silver chain. Within the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, you spotted the glint of a small cross.

The man raised his brows, and you licked over your cherry-stained lips.

"N-No, sir, these are...these are for my mother. I got them from our tree, just there," you explained, turning to point toward your tree a few feet back.

The man followed your direction, hands tucked into the pockets of his brown slacks. Your throat bobbed with a swallow when his eyes roamed back toward you—your cheeks burned at the way they rolled over your skim-clothed body.

You weren't expecting company today, and usually the field behind your house was empty, seeing as it was private property. Nobody ventured into each other's properties...except him. Your denim shorts and thin-strapped camisole gave way to the shapes and curves of your body not suited for a man's eye. But what really caught this man's eye was not the way your breasts spilled from your top, or the way your thighs strained against the denim squeezed around them—but the cross resting below the dip in your collarbone. Gold, elegant, clearly hand-crafted for you.

A child of God. A beautiful lamb.

"Surely you can spare one for a lonesome stranger? I've traveled a long way," he cooed.

His voice was smooth and sweet. He had a way of talking and tipping his head all at once that made you feel like he was telling you a bedtime story. You found your fingers dipping into the bowl and plucking two cherries before your mind could catch up. Your hand brushed his as he collected them in his palm, and you followed his fingers as they approached his mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed around the sweet juices in his mouth. He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth and the inside of his cheek. "Sweet."

But his eyes were on you. They twinkled against the low-setting sun, golden light washing over him. You weren't entirely sure he was real, in that moment.

"I'll see you around." He passed by, curling two fingers gently around your elbow before he walked off toward the property next door.

♰ ♰

But that Sunday, you knew for a fact he was real.

The man from the field, the man that left you two cherries short and the recipient of a scolding from your mother, was standing just below the podium at the old evangelical church on Mulberry. Clasping the hands of bright-eyed women bearing crosses, bending into a gentle, respectful bow. Firmly returning the shake of balding men that were already sweating through their nicest shirts, still greased from a day's work at the auto shop. Crouching to cast a straight-toothed, dazzling smile at children not yet tall enough to reach the pews without climbing.

All the air in your lungs seemed to get caught in your throat as you approached him, arm looped through your mother's. Your Mary Janes clunked against the floor of the aisle, and your eyes sought something, anything, other than his handsome face waiting for you ahead.

"Ah, you must be Loraine."

His voice. It sounded just as it did that day in the field—sweet, smooth, like honey from the comb.

"Well now, how did you know that?" your mother giggled, reaching up to fluff her hair beneath her elaborately atrocious hat.

You curled your fingers into a fist behind your back, blunt nails digging into your palm. Your dress, pale yellow and dappled with embroidered daisies, suddenly felt too tight around your waist. Your mother tied it herself in the mirror this morning, pulling until it cinched so tightly that you could practically see the waistband of your underwear. There, now you look like a young lady.

"I've heard such wonderful things about your fashionable hats." He didn't have an accent. At least, not like the Georgians did.

He sounded more like they did in Pennsylvania, where you went to school. They had a certain way about over-pronouncing their vowels that made it clear they were Yankees—

"And this must be your daughter."

His eyes set upon you, and a full-bodied shiver ran down your spine. Your stomach clenched, and your mother squeezed her arm around yours a little tighter until you turned to meet his eye. She grinned toothily beside you, leaning to press your heads together. Her soft, fluffy hair tickled your cheek. You could smell the cigarettes still on her teeth from the car ride over. The man was looking at you with a half-mouthed smile that made you swallow.

He was so handsome. Too handsome for a preacher. Too handsome for Wyndgate.

"This is my baby girl, Delilah. Ain't she pretty?" Your mother reached behind your neck to tuck your hair behind your ear. Her pink nails scraped against the nape of your neck like a chalkboard.

"She's a ballerina, up in Pennsylvania. Came back to visit her Mama for the summer. Ain't that right, Lilah?"

You let your eyes touch the man's chin. The faintest collection of stubble gathered around his jaw. A mocha-colored mole kissed his neck. He watched you intently, hands suddenly returning to his black slacks like they did that day in the field. He donned all black today, and it made his eyes look golden. Under the fluorescents of the church, he glowed like something divine. He looked so young.

"Yes," you whispered.

His hand slipped from his pocket, a gentle whooshing sound. First, he clasped your mother's hand, giving it a delicate bob—and then he reached for yours. You didn't wait for your mother to nudge you, reaching out and slipping your fingers along his palm. His thumb brushed along your knuckles and your spine straightened. A terrible ache gathered between your thighs. You hadn't felt an ache like that since prom night, when Tommy Baker kissed you against his truck in the gymnasium parking lot.

"It's lovely to meet the both of you. Everyone's been so lovely to me, welcoming me into your congregation."

He spread his arms, palms upended, and motioned toward the church. Everyone was getting seated, shuffling about in the rickety old pews, murmuring amongst themselves about the handsome new preacher and his funny voice. In your periphery, you could see the young girls fanning themselves with pamphlets frantically. Mid-morning light blared through the stained glass and cast a violet rainbow over his cheek.

A kiss from God. Wyndgate talked for weeks about how God delivered His handsomest angel to them by hand.

You slipped away from the preacher and wandered toward your designated pew, sliding in beside your mother, tucked against the end. You carefully placed your bible on your knees and adjusted your dress, just as the podium creaked against the man's weight. He spread his arms again, like he was waiting to ascend and welcome in Heaven.

"Welcome, all, I'm Pastor Steve. What a beautiful day to celebrate our Lord, isn't it, church?"

And as the pews murmured their joyous agreement, Pastor Steve's eyes cut over to you. He grinned a half-cocked grin. You didn't know, if standing there behind the podium, was a gift sent from God, or a trick from the devil.

♰ ♰

Before he died, your Daddy converted the old hay barn in the backyard into a dance studio. Floor length mirrors covered nearly every inch of the wooden walls, hand-sawed lengths of log through their middle for balance bars. He hand-crafted all of it for you as a birthday gift just before you went to high school.

When he died, it became your only solace. A place of solitude, of lulling quiet—it was the only place you could think. Twirling on the top of your pointe shoe, watching the room spin and blur while you snatched armfuls of air, fingers delicately tapped together—it was your form of relaxation.

You left the barn door open today, letting the sticky heat billow in. It breezed over your bare arms and legs like a gentle whisper as you rotated and pranced around the room. Your elegant gold cross, a permanent token fixed around your neck, swinging in the air with every turnout.

"You always dance like this?"

A shriek left your mouth like a siren. You shot your foot out to put you at a hard stop, heaving for air and staring Pastor Steve straight in the face. He was leaning on the barn door, arms crossed, the toe of his leather loafer pressed to the shiny wooden floor. His church clothes abandoned, he donned a pair of brown slacks and a blue button down—crisp, pleated, rolled at the elbows. His silver chain glimmered in the soft glow of the evening light behind him.

"You alright?" he asked.

You blinked, hands finding your hips, cheeks burning. You swallowed, bobbing your head. Wisps of hair flounced against your forehead. From across the barn, Steve's eyes licked over your pale pink attire, your sweat-slick limbs, naked and bared for him. He found the cross resting above your breast and tipped his head to admire it.

“Y-yeah, m’ alright. Can I…what are you doin’ here?”

Steve took his lip between his teeth. His chin tipped down, eyes blaring through thick lashes to watch you reach for a water bottle on the floor. Your gold cross caught the sun like a beacon. He couldn’t look away from it. It glowed around your neck. You were divine beauty, a perfect little lamb. He knew it the moment he saw you scaling that cherry tree the other day. He knew it the moment he saw you floating down the church aisle like a bride. He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

God sent him to Georgia for you.

“Your mother,” Steve said, straightening up. He’d been staring too long. “I heard she’s the only woman in town that knows how to fix my robe the right way.”

You nodded along in agreement. Your mother was a talented seamstress—she could fix even the worst tear and make it look brand new. But you didn’t see a robe with him, and as your eyes flickered around to find it, Pastor Steve cracked a smile.

“It’s in my car,” he said.

You flashed a small, tight-lipped smile. Your cheeks swelled with more heat. His voice was so smooth and soft. It tickled your ears like a melody.

“Oh,” you murmured meekly.

Silence filled the barn. In the yard, birds twittered, and the chickens in your neighbor’s pen a few yards down clucked nosily. Steve continued to tip his head and inspect you. You swallowed again, bringing your hands to clasp together behind your back, and tapped your ratty pointe shoes together on the floor. Your good shoes were back at school, on rental for the semester. You scrubbed floors and cleaned the mirrors every night after class just to afford to keep them. Without the scholarship you earned, you wouldn’t be able to afford to dance at all.

“Um, I should probably head inside,” you piped up, rising to the tops of your toes only to press back down again.

Steve watched you closely for another moment. Everything about the way you moved made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was thrilling, the way you spun and twirled, the way you walked like you were airless. You were graceful, just like a swan.

You clutched your water to your chest and shuffled toward the corner where your sneakers waited. You opted to hook your fingers in their soles instead of changing—something about the way Pastor Steve followed your every move made you tremble and squirm, and you were desperate to get into the cool confines of your room and avoid his pretty stare.

You lifted your head and cast another small smile that had him clenching.

“Have a nice day, Pastor.”

Oh and your voice. Hushed, delicate, meek. You always sounded like you were delivering a line written by Shakespeare himself. It sent shivers down Steve’s spine, that voice.

You brushed past him in a breeze—a whiff of sweet sweat and rose soap—and Steve broke out of his daydream to catch a glimpse of the nape of your neck. With your hair pulled away from it, your neck looked enticing—a patch of clammy skin, braced with the fragile, glimmering golden rope of your necklace.

“Mhm,” Steve hurriedly hummed, lifting off the door of the barn as you sweepingly turned the corner toward the house. “See you inside.”

And as hard as you tried to avoid it, you did see him inside.

You hurriedly showered and scurried into your room as your mother extended her southern hospitality—soon, the lace dining cloth was covered in glasses of freshly-brewed sweet tea and bowls of cherries.

You sat down at the cushioned stool of your vanity and smoothed cream over your damp face, listening carefully to the murmur of your mother and Pastor Steve’s voices on the other side of the wall. Her laugh was over-joyous and sickeningly sweet, and you heard your name mentioned far too frequently for your liking.

Dressed in a breezy sundress, you settled down on your bed beside the open window, letting in a warm wind that fluttered your drapes, and cracked open an old favorite from your tiny shelf—Anne of Green Gables. You turned to the bookmarked page, letting the breeze from the window and the wind from the ceiling fan cool down your skin, still buzzing with thrumming warmth from your spinning in the barn and Pastor Steve’s heavy gaze.

But every turn of the page came with a glimpse of his eyes in your mind. A hazel color, big and round and penetrative. They followed you like they were pinned to the back of your head. You felt the weight of that gaze all through Sunday’s sermon, and again while you fidgeted in the barn. He was always watching. And something about the way he looked at you made you feel…special. Special in a way you didn’t feel back at school, or anywhere previously in Wyndgate where all the girls who got attention were slender and blonde and giggly.

But to Pastor Steve, you were something worth looking at. And a man of God’s approval, his praise, mattered most of all.

“Lilah! Lilah, come set Pastor Steve a place for dinner!”

Your mother’s voice washed over you like a cold drip, and your book fell from your hands to your floral quilt. Your cheeks bloomed with heat again, cursing under your breath as you shuffled toward the edge of the mattress. Bare legs dangling over, your hand flew to your chest to rub the cross between your knuckles in search of comfort. In the living room, the deep rumble of Pastor Steve’s voice made your stomach squirm.

“Oh, Lord,” you whispered pleadingly, eyes turning toward the portrait of Jesus in a frame above your bed. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me.”

Don’t make me go out there. He’s so handsome.

“Lilah Anne! I’m not callin’ you again,” your mother’s voice was just on the other side of the door, and a harsh knock followed after.

The door flew open, and you bounced off the bed. Flustered, you watched your mother sigh and ease the door into a crack behind her. She tiptoed toward you, checking over your appearance as she went.

“Lilah, he’s a very important man. I want you to use our nice plates. The ones with the bluebells, alright?”

You bobbed your head furiously. The back of your dress started to cling to your spine. You reached behind to pluck it away, give your skin some air to breathe, and your mother grabbed your arm. She leaned in close, and you knew by the purse of her lips what was coming next:

“Make yourself real pretty, alright? Pastor Steve is such a nice man,” she gushed.

She pinched your cheek and patted the skin, and your chest tightened as the back of her head disappeared through the door. When it closed, you spun around and walked toward the mirror, standing tall in the corner of your room. There you stood, pulling at your pale blue dress, frowning at your bare arms and legs. But Mama would want them like that, on display for Pastor Steve to see. Just like all those times when her friends came over. She’d bring them home from the bar and introduce you in the living room, and you always sat in a chair in the corner, pretending not to understand what it meant when they kept calling you “a sure thing.”

But Pastor Steve was different. Pastor Steve was a man of God. He’d never stray from God’s guidance.

So, you neatly plaited your hair and swept it over your shoulder. You rubbed strawberry chapstick over your lips and nose, and delicately placed your unfinished book on the nightstand for later. The ceiling fan hummed absently over your empty bed.

You gathered the plates—the gleaming porcelain with the hand-painted bluebells—from the china cabinet, and cleared the clutter from the table to fix it for dinner. All the while, as you bent to place silverware beside each place, you gazed beneath your arm over toward the living room. Pastor Steve stood, arms out, in the center of the wood-paneled room. Your mother knelt before him, working her needle through the hole in his deep, swampy green robe. The crosses embroidered on the fabric were golden and shiny.

His head turned, a strand of hair catching over his eye, and you ducked away toward the fridge. Yanking it open, you relished in the cool air blowing from the vent in the buzzing white light of its confinement.

"...should be all ready to—Lilah Anne, what on earth are you doin' in there?"

You hurriedly slammed the fridge closed, rattling the bread box on top and the glass condiments on the inside shelf—and standing on the other side of the table, was a furrow-browed mother and a perfectly well-stitched Pastor Steve. The latter flashed you a boyish grin, and your cheek burned as you looped your fingers together behind your back.

"I set the table like you said, Mama," you murmured softly, tipping your head toward the wooden table, adorned with its white lace cloth and bluebell plates.

Steve followed your gaze, admiring your organized layout. Your mother merely glanced, otherwise focused on the neatness of your braid. She swept the end of it over your shoulder to drape down your arm as she passed by, heading toward the fridge to grab yesterday’s chicken.

"I was just gonna heat up some of this chicken, is that alright, Pastor?"

You turned to the man anxiously, teeth pulling at the loose skin of your bottom lip. His loafers clunked against the tiled floor sharply, and you followed them all the way to the chair at the head of the table, a place set just for him. He placed his hand on the back of the chair—your Daddy's old chair—and set his eyes on you: neck bent, arms tucked behind your back, a picture of obedience and grace.

"That sounds wonderful, Loraine."

The chicken plate clattered on the counter. The tinfoil rustled and crinkled. The stovetop clicked, the pan sizzled. The kitchen became stiff with hot air, and the window squealed when your mother pushed it open. Outside, the cicadas were still chittering furiously. And you stood, exactly where you were, staring at the tops of your bare toes against the linoleum tile.

"Delilah, come sit with me."

Your head snapped up. Pastor Steve stood from the table and stepped to the left, pulling the chair from the table. He motioned toward it with a sweeping hand, and with a glance over your shoulder toward your nodding mother, you took small, timid steps over. You sank down, breath hitching when Pastor Steve came behind you to push the chair back in. His stomach firm against the back of your head, his hands big and warm on either side of your shoulders. They grazed your shoulder blades before he sat back down, and your body tingled with shivers.

A mere foot away from you, Pastor Steve was the closest he'd ever been. He placed his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. The round face of his watch glinted in the low-setting sun, a warm yellow light. The band of it was brown leather, like his shoes, and fit him well. His robe was gone now, folded neatly and placed on the stool beside the door where you sat to take your shoes off. But he didn't seem concerned about it—his eyes were set on you.

"Your mother tells me your father passed a few years ago."

Your heart squeezed. You paused, eyes turning toward your mother's figure at the stove. She didn't like to talk about your Daddy very much. When she did, her words were usually biting and cruel. To her, he was a "lazy, no-good son-of-a-bitch." But to you, your Daddy was the sun and moon.

You nodded slowly. "Yes, sir. When I was fifteen."

Pastor Steve hummed.

"That musta been hard, especially at that age. I lost my father, too."

Your head tipped up. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of your eyes, peeking through your lashes, blinking up at him. Your cheeks were the loveliest shade of pink.

"Really?"

He nodded. "Mhm. I was twelve."

Your lips instinctually pulled into a frown. Before you could reply, your mother squawked from the stove:

"Oh, Pastor, I'm so sorry for your loss," she drawled.

But Pastor Steve's eyes never left yours. In fact, they were glued to you. And his hand, cupped around his jaw, fell to the table with a quiet thump. Your eyes flittered toward it, watching it slither across white lace. It came to a stop beside your plate, flipping to place his knuckles against the table, palm upended.

"I understand your pain, Delilah," he murmured.

Taking a deep breath in, you slipped your fingers into his waiting hand. It closed around your knuckles, holding your fingers to his palm in a soothing embrace. You met his gaze cautiously, heart thumping in your throat. Pastor Steve's eyes were soft and round like a puppy-dog's, brows furrowed in shared sympathy.

"God understands your pain. And though loss may lead us astray, we must stay strong, and put our trust in the Lord," he preached, voice smooth like whiskey. When a small smile touched your face, Pastor Steve mirrored it. "He'll take us exactly where we need to be."

The last sentiment was whispered, a shared secret between the two of you. His smile slipped sideways, another boyish image of the man before you, and a burst of endearment flooded your chest at the sight of him in your father's chair. You found yourself clinging to his words, replaying them in your head, etching them into your memory to grasp onto forever. And while you pondered, wading in the charming ease of his demeanor, Steve brought his hand under the table, and ran the length of his knuckles across your knee.

During dinner, he conversed with your mother about the historical society, the women's church group, the annual fundraiser at the end of the summer. Every few moments, his hand would brush your knee beneath the table. Each time your head turned to question it, he passed you a lopsided smile. It was comforting, that handsome smile. God will take you exactly where you need to be, Delilah.

Your mother packed him a Tupperware container of cherry pie to take home, and he gathered it atop his sewn robe as he headed toward the door.

"Thank you again," he cooed to your mother, whose smile was blinding.

"Oh, don't mention it, Pastor, we're lucky to have you. Lilah, why don't you walk Pastor Steve out, it gets real dark out back this time a' night."

Your mother pinched the back of your arm when you turned to protest, and you hurriedly stepped toward the door to obey. Pastor Steve flashed a tight-lipped smile at your mother, and swung the door open. The screen door groaned on its rusty hinges when he pushed it, and the sticky heat instantly sought home in the kitchen. You floated through the open doorway past his waiting figure, hands clasped behind your back once more, bare feet scuffing over the chipped paint of the porch.

You walked languidly, but with a refinement to your posture and an upturn of your nose that Steve adored. He watched you as you trailed along beside him, rustling through the grass like rabbit, quiet and small. His car was waiting in the drive around the barn. The license plate was from Indiana.

"Why'd you move away from Indiana?"

You don't know why you asked. The words came tumbling from your mouth like they were exorcised, wretched from somewhere deep inside. It must’ve been the Southern meddler swarming inside you. But Pastor Steve just smiled that boyish, sideways smile, and shrugged.

"I wanted a change of scenery."

You nodded approvingly, coming to a stop at the hood of the car. Pastor Steve scuffled to a halt right after, turning to gaze down at you, still clasping his chicken and green robe. You swallowed, and he watched your face twist with worry. He frowned, brows furrowing.

"What's wrong, Delilah?"

You chewed on the inside of your lip, gazing down at the tops of his shoes.

"Mama...did she say anything cruel about my daddy? They...didn't always get along."

Steve inhaled deeply. Your father. That was your soft spot. Like every fruit, you had a bruise—a soft spot, where he knew, if he pushed with just the right amount of pressure, you would burst.

Pastor Steve took a step closer.

"Don't worry, Delilah, I don't believe a word. I can see how much you loved him."

You nodded, tipping your head back to find his gaze again. His lips were plump and red from the pie.

"You know," he said, cocking his head again. "If you ever need to talk or just get out of the house, you can always come visit me at the church. I'm a great listener."

You grinned shyly. "Thank you, Pastor. I...haven't been to confession in...too long," you admitted lightly.

Steve shrugged airily.

"Oh, that's alright. God leads us exactly where we need to be, remember?"

You nodded quickly. "Right."

The sky had darkened to an inky indigo. In this great big clearing, flanked with bushels of dense oak trees, the stars were on full display. Steve could take count of every single one if he wanted to. But all he could do, in this great Southern expanse, was look at you.

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and your eyes followed.

"You're a beautiful dancer," he mused.

You flushed, ducking bashfully. In the back of your head, your mother's voice rang: men like weak and fragile. Men like women that bend to their will. Maybe if you bent, if you weakened, Pastor Steve would see how good you are, and in the eyes of the Lord, that was all that mattered.

All that mattered was that you were good, and kind, and lovable. That's all you wanted.

"Thank you, Pastor."

Pastor Steve's watch caught the moonlight as he brought his hand to your forehead. There, he swiped a stray wisp of hair from your lashes, shaken loose from your braid. He guided it behind your ear, where his hand slipped to fondle your delicate braid. The length of it glided through his palm like a snake. He watched it fall through his grasp while your breath became shallow.

"God's finest work."

Your heart pounded wildly in your ears. You beamed at the praise, glowing beneath his approving gaze. Steve, noticing the way you perked at his gentle, murmured tone, how you leaned into his coaxing validations, gave it a little push. His hand came to your chin, which he cupped in a gentle hold to pull you up. You allowed him to guide you, bringing your forehead to his mouth. There, he placed a gentle kiss.

When you settled back down on your heels, you gazed up at him dazedly.

"You are blessed, Delilah. God has a very special place for you in his heart."

Your throat bobbed with another swallow. His thumb pressed into your chin. His eyes roamed your parted lips.

"And I think," Steve whispered, chest heaving, "he sent me here to make sure of it."

♰ ♰

#rolly!#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve stranger things #steve the hair harrington #priest!steve harrington #pastor!steve harrington #joe keery #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #dark steve harrington #dark!steve x you #dark!steve harrington

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futureman · 2 months

Text

piece of me

pairing: younger!mike schmidt & baby!abby schmidt

summary: at 22 years old, mike is given custody of his infant sister after the loss of their parents. though he might not ever truly feel worthy of her, there's one thing he'll always be certain of—they belong together.

warnings: pre-fnaf movie au, inspired by the official movie novel, loss of parents, mentions of depression and anxiety, childhood trauma

word count: <1k

Mike never asked for this.

As his tiny sister reaches for him from her playpen, his first instinct is to wait for their mom to pick her up and give her the attention she needs. But their mom isn't here anymore. Neither is their dad.

It's just Mike and Abby now, and he has no idea what to do in a situation like this. The longer she makes grabby hands in his direction, the more upset she gets, but he feels like he can't move. He's frozen, riddled with guilt because he already knows he can't help her.

Mike isn't equipped for this. He's not ready for this.

Kids were never on the agenda, if there was ever an agenda to begin with. The horrible truth is that he can't be trusted with that kind of responsibility. He already proved that a long time ago. With Garret.

The thought alone is so painful, he pushes it to the back of his mind to preserve his own sanity. Right now, it's just another reminder of how much of a fuck-up he is. A failure of a big brother, destined to destroy yet another little life. And this time has the potential to be so much worse.

Abby's barely 11 months old, which means he actually has to raise her. Between long shifts at a dead-end job, he'll have to teach her how to walk and talk and read. Buy her diapers, her toys and clothes, her formula. She's not even old enough for solid food, for fuck's sake.

She needs her mom. Instead, she's stuck with him—her shitty older brother who's still glued to the couch, incompetent as ever. She's not crying at least, so it's not an emergency—yet. But her little button nose is starting to scrunch up, and that's never a good sign.

Another moment passes as they continue to watch each other, stuck at an impasse only Mike has the power to end, if only he could just fucking move. But before he can convince his limbs to cooperate, Abby's hands drop to the wooden slats of her pen like she's finally given up. Her bottom lip wobbles dangerously, and his chest seizes in panic.

Okay, now it's an emergency. Now, he has to do something. Tears well up in her eyes, and she hiccups around what he assumes is the first of many sobs to come. What is he supposed to do? How does he stop this? When no solution comes, he feels his palpitating heart break—for both of them.

Because Mike is lying to himself.

Deep down, he knows what she wants, but he's too scared of the consequences of giving in. Just pick her up. Just hold her. But he can't. He doesn't want her to get attached. It'll only make it that much harder when he inevitably lets her down and they take her away from him. Maybe they should. What kind of monster refuses to comfort a crying child?

From the outside looking in, he's sure his actions—or lack thereof—seem cruel. They'd never know his throat is starting to constrict or that his head is filled with so much white noise, it's impeding his capacity for logical thought, or any thought at all. He wishes he was a more capable man. A better man. But he's broken. From the outside or not, anyone can see that.

Except for Abby. What must she see when she looks at him? Babies, especially ones as perceptive as her, are supposed to be able to sense tumultuous emotions, so why doesn't that explain the way she's looking at him right now? Like he's familiar, like she knows he's family. Like he's her world.

Their eyes lock, and suddenly it's like he's looking in a mirror. The same brown irises and dark, curly hair. Their father's nose and their mother's smile. If he wanted to, he could see that smile again. It's been a long time since it graced his own face, but if he just picked her up. If he just held her.

An unexpected wave of clarity washes over him. This responsibility wasn't forced on him. He chose this, to care for her and provide her with a happier life than she would've had with their cold, money-hungry aunt.

He chose to raise her because regardless of how ill-equipped he is to be a parent, she deserves to be loved, and he will always be able to give her that. And when she reaches out her tiny hand again with hope in her tear-filled, brown eyes, he realizes she's choosing him, too.

Mike never asked for this. But as he lifts Abby into his arms and cradles her against his chest, he knows in his heart that this is where she's meant to be.

thanks for reading!

divider by @saradika-graphics

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt imagine #fnaf imagine #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson

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puppy-steve · 3 months

Text

january fic rec - b sides

not actually fics i read in january, but i need to clear out my ao3 recs to prep for the upcoming months and this seems like a good enough time to do that.

Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance - E, 14.5k, complete @lexirosewrites

tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, tattoo artist eddie, falling in love, angst with a happy ending

Steve goes into Hellfire Ink for one reason and one reason only: to have his mating bond broken. Meeting the owner, who specializes in this taboo service, is the silver lining to being blindsided at the sudden and devastating end of his twelve year marriage to Nancy. It only takes a handful of painful scarification sessions for them to redefine their expectations of love.

Little Velvet Box - E, 2.3k, complete preservedchaos

tags: modern au, marriage proposal

Steve didn’t mean to find it. He was honestly looking for one of the pairs of Christmas socks he knew Eddie kept buried in his drawer. His hand was buried in the sea of socks, rooting around for the fluffy material, when his fingers encountered a solid object.

Ask The Wife - M, 1.8k, complete unhappy_peaches

tags: secret relationship, eddie calls steve his wife

“You guys all call me and Steve “mom and dad,” so, theoretically, if that is true, that makes him my wife.”

don't let go - E, 3.9k, complete sunbleacheddie

tags: rockstar eddie, reunion sex

Eddie's been on tour for a month and has to extend his time away. He surprises Steve by coming home early.

hash brown, egg yolk (i will always love you) - G, 2.8k, complete @stevethehairington | MacksDramaticShenanigans

tags: married steddie, rockstar eddie, teacher steve, domestic fluff

Six months is a long time to be apart. A long time to go without seeing Eddie in the flesh. Without hearing his laugh, low and melodic, right against the shell of his ear. Without hugging Eddie around the middle and hooking his chin over Eddie’s shoulder while he stands at the stove and pushes something delicious around a pan. Without kissing Eddie. But so is the way of being married to a hotshot musician with a band that has more than made it big. Because that's what Eddie is. And, god, Steve couldn’t be more proud. Even if it does mean that sometimes he and Eddie have to go long stretches of time without seeing each other. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Because Eddie is home now, and he’s going to be home for a while. Corroded Coffin just wrapped up the European leg of their tour (“Fucking Europe, Stevie! Can you believe it!”) and they’ve been given a month before their North American leg is set to start. A whole entire month that Eddie already promised he will be spending at home with Steve. Starting today.

Oath of Devotion - G, 1.4k, complete @matchingbatbites

tags: steve plays dnd, extablished relationship

"Three years ago, I took my place by your side as your personal guard. I swore to care for you, to protect you from anything that would want to hurt you, and somewhere along the way, we fell in love."

nothing else matters - T, 2.4k, complete AliuIce0814

tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, unplanned pregnancy

Steve’s pretty sure there’s no pee left in his body. Still, all seven of these tests have to be wrong, right? Sure, he’s seeing Eddie Munson pretty regularly - but Eddie always wears a condom, but they never have sex when Steve’s in heat. So why are all of these pregnancy tests positive?

Indecent - M, 2.9k, complete NotEvenCloseToStraight

tags: idiot4idiot, established relationship

Steve was adorable wearing Eddie’s clothes. He was stupidly sexy wearing Eddie’s clothes. Steve was unfairly breaking Eddie’s brain wearing his clothes and it was just downright indecent. “Steve.” Eddie swallowed hard and lowered his voice. “Steve, go change.” “What?” Steve’s nose wrinkled when he frowned. “Why?” “Go change.” “But I’m comfortable.” “Go. Change.” “Eddie, I don’t understand--” “PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME!” Eddie planted his feet and pointed violently at the crop top. “SO HELP ME STEVE HARRINGTON!”

A King On His Throne - E, 4.1k, complete Papaya_Whip

tags: dom/sub, choking, pre-discussed kink

“Like what you see?” Eddie asks, teasing. “Yeah,” Steve replies dumbly. He has the decency to blush afterward, because fuck, Eddie has him so malleable and that word fell so easily from his mouth, but Eddie’s persona is starting to slip again, to give way to something severely tender underneath, and Steve shoves him into a kiss before the expression Eddie is wearing can melt him entirely. And it’s bliss; it’s Eddie’s arms wrapping around him and dragging him that last inch closer, until their bodies are flush and Steve can barely breathe. It’s Eddie chasing Steve’s tongue and moaning, loud and low, into Steve’s parted lips. It’s Eddie’s wild, gorgeous hair pulled tight in Steve’s desperate fists. Steve leverages his grasp on Eddie’s curls to pull his head back, presses a shower of kisses down the column of his throat. Scrapes his teeth there and feels as Eddie swallows around a hiss. “Fuck, Stevie,” he says, “you’ve completely ruined me.”

Bows & All - E, 3.3k, complete GodsDoggy

tags: daddy kink, transmasc steve, dom/sub, breeding kink

“What can I say?” Steve smiles. “I’m a man of my word.” Eddie snorts. “Clearly.” He looks down between them, admiring the ribbons that decorate Steve's inner thighs. “Bows and all, huh?” Steve laughs, a little breathless in his needy state. “Bows and all.”

Tiny Green Shorts - E, 2.2k, complete @hotluncheddie

tags: steve's green basketball shorts, dom/sub, free use mentions

Steve wants attention, so he puts on his old shorts from high school.

Playing House with You - E, 4.3k, complete GonzoTheGreat

tags: daddy kink, breeding kink, mommy kink

They had just moved into their own little house outside of town, it was perfect to him in every way. Thing was, it got Steve picturing them “playing house” as Eddie would call it. It was driving him crazy.

i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now) - G, 10k, complete @stevethehairington | MacksDramaticShenanigans

tags: pining, christmas fluff, getting together, first kiss, mistletoe

Steve makes a promise, Robin likes to meddle, and the spirit of Christmas strikes (out) again. And again. And again. (Until it doesn’t.)

Be My Mistake - T, 4.1k, complete flowershoplights

tags: fluff, snowball fights, love confessions

Steve and Eddie find warmth in each other during the holiday season

Your skin and bones turn into something beautiful (You know I love you so) - M, 4.2k, complete ChristinMKay

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, platonic stobin, soulmate au

Steve Harrington is born with a scream on his lips and so much love in his being that his body is covered in it. An abundance of moles, freckles, and birthmarks are speckled across his skin, painting him in constellations and stardust and affection. The nurses and doctors are congratulating Steve’s parents as they place him in the arms of his mother. They say he is blessed. Lived so many lives filled with people who loved him so much that the press of their lips against his skin had to echo through time and leave a mark.

Dial V for Virgin - E, series, complete @lexirosewrites

tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, college au, frat steve, eddie calls steve "puppy"

Rushing a fraternity so his dad will keep paying for college isn’t exactly Steve’s idea of fun. Being required to lose his virginity in order to get a bid from ABΩ somehow makes it even worse. Which is why finding graffiti in a party bathroom that says, “for a good time text Eddie 555-318-7249,” feels like a sign from the universe.

Fucked Up (Perfect) Family - E, 6.4k, complete GonzoTheGreat

tags: daddy kink, mommy kink, breeding kink, steve wants a baby and eddie's gonna give him one

He nodded. “You refer to me as the kid’s dad, yeah?” “Yeah?” “And today was different, what was different?” Something was different, he hadn’t realized that. Every other time he’d referred to Eddie as the ‘dad’ all he felt was warm contentment, like soup on a cold day. Today he freezed. Even if Dustin didn’t notice, it still happened. Which means Eddie must have seen it. “Ummm well… I don’t know? I mean I’ve always kinda liked you being a father figure to the kids if that makes sense? Like you’re the dad and I’m the mom and we’re one big happy family.”

Once Bitten (Twice Shy) - E, 22.1k, complete ParadimeShifts

tags: modern au, christmas fluff, the three muskequeers as roommates, light dom/sub

Steve’s relationship with Christmas had always been tenuous, to say the least, but it didn’t help that this was the first Christmas he would be suffering through since his ex-girlfriend had snatched up his self-esteem and taken off running the year before. He knew it was the intrinsically romantic quality of the holiday season, and nothing more. Just his lonely bones after a year of healing from heartbreak. But Eddie's arms around him when he needed them most were starting to feel a lot like love. Or: A fic inspired by George Michael's "Last Christmas".

use your words, baby - E, 4.5k, complete @infinite-orangepeel

tags: transmasc steve, established relationship, dysphoria mentions, daddy kink

“Like it’s a real cock, you mean?” Steve clarifies, brain moving at a snail’s pace since all the blood has traveled down into his swollen clit. “That’s exactly what I mean, pretty boy, but not just any random fucker’s cock. You’re too good for the rest of ‘em. Like it’s my cock. Like you’re sucking me off in a dirty bar bathroom—like that one we went to in Chicago last summer. Like you wanna get me off as fast as possible so no one catches you being such a filthy cumslut for the town freak,” Eddie kisses his abdomen, dips his tongue into his belly button, and ruts his cock against the concave part of Steve’s hip, “Suck it hard, baby. C’mon play pretend with me and I’ll moan right in your ear the whole time like it’s really mine.”

can you feel the hot blood rush? - E, 5.9k, complete GodsDoggy

tags: mommy kink, dom/sub, sub eddie, sex club, exhibitionism

A strong hand slides up the length of Eddie’s thigh, pausing right where the leather tapers off at his crotch. “You went somewhere, honey. What’s wrong?” Eddie keeps his eyes on the road as he speaks. Steve’s thumb moves in small circles over his thigh. “Thinking about stuff.” “What kind of stuff?”

summer's in the air, and baby heaven's in your eyes - E, 2.2k, complete steddieverse

tags: mommy kink, sub eddie, soft dom steve, grinding, frottage

So it's times like this, sitting together on Eddie's ass of a couch, when it feels like the Earth is spinning a lot faster than normal. Steve glistened with sweat, hair messy. The joint he's smoking is just the cherry on top. Eddie has to admit, summer really is doing him some fucking justice on this one thing. or, eddie munson has got it real bad for steve harrington during a heatwave.

let me wrap my teeth around the world - E, 1.3k, complete skwudgie

tags: transmasc steve, pussy worship, dom/sub, sub eddie, soft dom steve

Eddie Munson has a thing about dropping to his knees.

sos - T, 7.1k, complete @ikarakie

tags: post-s3, established relationship, secret relationship, accidental outting, protective wayne

eddie and steve have been dating, in secret, for nearly a year when starcourt happens. the gang find out because wayne munson turns up at the hospital, having been called there because he's steve's emergency contact. eddie isn't far behind.

in your eyes i am complete - E, 4.5k, complete bdelaney

tags: shibari, valentines day, dom/dub, daddy kink, spit kink, dacryphilia

On the one hand, Steve's really not complaining that Eddie isn’t one of those people who thinks of Valentine's Day as the “most romantic day of the year” like some of the girls he had known in high school. But on the other hand, nothing makes Steve happier than seeing Eddie happy, and he is certain that celebrating the holiday as a couple would make his boyfriend very happy. Even if he won’t outwardly admit it. So it was decided–Steve would be sweeping Eddie off his feet with the most romantic Valentine’s Day he could possibly imagine. They didn’t call him King Steve in high school for nothing.

Wake-Up Call - E, 2.2k, complete cheshiredog

tags: morning sex, established relationship, fluff

Steve groans and hugs his pillow. A little smile curls his lips though his eyes are shut. “That feel good?” Eddie asks. “You like it when I push your dick into the bed?” “Mmhmm.” “You’re so perfect like this. All pliant and sweet. Gonna feel so good fucking you into this mattress.” Steve’s grin widens. “Mmhmm.” “Fuck. I love you, Steve.” “Love you. Fuck me.” Eddie wakes up Steve with some slow morning sex.

Close, Closer - E, 5.4k, complete JCMadGirl

tags: light dom/sub, safeword use, hurt/comfort

It's going well, until it isn't. [“Do you remember when- when we told you about the Russians?” He finally chokes out, feeling like he’s balancing on the edge of a ravine. “Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes burn on his skin, like he can see right through all of Steve’s carefully constructed walls, and he knows that’s true. “You haven’t- haven’t told me everything, have you?” Steve clenches his fists. “Steve, what did they do to you?”] Or, Steve Harrington has a flashback in the middle of a scene

On My Way - E, 8.1k, complete MiraEdge

tags: booty calls, heat fic, first time bottoming

“Eddie, I want you to make me cum so hard that then I pass out. I need you to fuck this out of me until I can’t get it up anymore. If you want me to drink some water, sure, but please don’t try to make me sleep when every nerve in my fucking body is feeling like it’s on fi- Fuuck!"

just guys being dudes - E, 7.4k, complete midnightdrive

tags: threesome, accidental voyeurism, light daddy kink

“I don’t think we’ve been direct enough, so now we’re asking. You in?” Gareth sees something he maybe shouldn’t have.

breathe out (so i can breathe you in) - E, WIP kaleinope

tags: school of rock au, jewish eddie, dad steve, music teacher eddie, basketball coach steve

“You thinking of getting it for yourself?” The man continues, eyebrows raised, and that’s when Steve realises he’s just been staring, practically drooling over this stranger who's decided to strike up a conversation about a guitar. A part of him wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. “Oh, uh, no, actually.” He says, “It’s for my daughter.” Something indecipherable flickers across the man’s face, there and gone again in an instant, “How sweet.” “I don’t know what I’m looking for,” he admits, a little sheepish, “I’m not a musician, so…” he shrugs, “I have no way of knowing if this is a good guitar or not.” There’s a hint of amusement in the man’s eyes as his mouth tilts into a more crooked grin, “Well, lucky for you, I can help.” In one fluid motion, the man drops himself into a sweeping, dramatic bow. The suddenness of it startles a laugh out of Steve. “Eddie Munson, guitarist, musician extraordinaire - at your service.” His energy is infectious - Steve finds that he’s grinning, “Uh, Steve Harrington. Basketball coach, dad,” He tries to think of another good descriptor, but comes up short, “Totally at a loss, here.”

lavender haze - E, 2.9k, complete bdelaney

tags: daddy kink, lingerie, dom/sub, feminization, nipple play

Kinktober Day 16: Lingerie Eddie rakes his hands underneath Steve’s shirt, freezing when his fingers come into contact with soft lace. Pulling away with a dazed expression on his face, Steve watches timidly as Eddie slowly pulls up the hem of his polo, pausing when he encounters the soft lilac lace that stretches over Steve’s ribs. “Baby,” he rasps out, making goosebumps erupt down Steve’s arms. “What have you got here?”

you're the singer and i'm the song - E, 4.7k, complete oklahoma

tags: transmasc eddie, pussy drunk steve, light dom/sub

After hearing a rumor that Steve's fantastic at eating pussy, Eddie asks Steve to prove it to him. Steve is more than happy to oblige.

running home to your sweet nothing - E, 1.9k, complete bdelaney

tags: dom/sub, transmasc steve, somnophilia, daddy kink, comeplay

“Hi, baby,” Eddie murmurs, and Steve moans weakly into the pillow. “I’m home.” “So sleepy,” Steve slurs out. Humming quietly against Steve’s skin, he presses a wet kiss to his inner thigh before saying with a smile, “Then go back to sleep, angel.” OR Eddie comes home from his tour and just can't wait to reunite with his boyfriend. Even if he's too tired to participate.

Let them eat metal - T, 2/2, complete Dark_Rosaleen

tags: outsider pov, protective gareth

Gareth has had just about enough of Steve Harrington in the fall of '86. He sets about to do something about it. It takes an angry mob, a Corroded Coffin gig and a baseball bat full of nails for him to change his mind. Gareth gets mad, Eddie gets beat up, Steve gets violent and Wayne is just really tired of everyone's shit.

Simple Biology - E, 8/8, complete boltedfruit

tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, college au, forced proximity, getting together, period typical sexism

Steve's first real college assignment is to take care of a flour bag baby. With his class partner Eddie Munson, who happens to be an alpha. - Then Eddie snaps his jaw at the other alpha, the sound of teeth hitting teeth ringing between Steve’s ears. And from his vantage point, he swears he sees Eddie’s eyes flash red. The other alpha's hands slowly unwind from Eddie’s vest. Eddie bears down until the other cowers. It's subtle. A tilt of his head in deference. Eddie’s won. Steve’s mouth waters.

make this lovin' last - E, series, complete @aliencamper

tags: omega/omega, heat sex, nipple play, male lactation, strap-ons, scissoring

While Steve has been worshiping every inch of his pussy, he made sure that Eddie’s tiny mosquito-bite tits were ignored. Let his dusky nipples stand at attention, puffy and leaking heat milk profusely without any relief. “I know, Omega. Need you, too. Just a little longer,” Steve replies. He gives Eddie’s cock one last lick, keeping contact between his tongue and the trail of soft hairs between Eddie’s pussy and stomach as he shifts further up in their nest. The movement provides a hint of friction where the blanket drags against his nipples and slick-covered cock and Steve knows he won’t be able to maintain this composure for much longer. His eyes stay locked on Eddie’s and he can see the exact moment that his mate deciphers his telegraphed movements—Eddie keens deep in his throat as a fresh rush of wetness pours out and dampens the chest hair between Steve’s own tits where his sternum is pressed against Eddie’s cunt. He finally drops his gaze and allows himself to take in the sight before him, the driving reason for propping Eddie up at this angle with hands fisted in the blankets: fresh, creamy milk pooled in the hollow of Eddie’s belly button.

Love Grows - G, WIP @matchingbatbites

tags: teen dad steve, friends to lovers, slow burn, babysitter eddie

The rumors have been flying for weeks. It only took one cheerleader to see Steve Harrington out and about with a baby and soon enough the news was all over the school. Nevermind that no one else has even seen said baby, just the one accusation is enough to send the rumor mill into production. It's something that had piqued Eddie's interest, but he quickly attributed it to teenagers spreading drama, a fiction created for their own entertainment. That is, until the day Harrington shows up to school with the baby.

you've got a way with words & i'm all ears - E, series, WIP @infinite-orangepeel

tags: dom/sub, dirty talk, feminization, blow jobs, role play, first time

“-and, you’re witty. You always make people laugh with your jokes. You’re quick on your feet. Obviously, I’ve never been in bed with you, but I’d bet you could dirty talk me under the table.” Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ–under the table, on the table, next to the table, through the table… “Look, I’m flattered,” Eddie throws a hand over his chest to emphasize his point, “And, I won’t lie, my past lovers have spoken highly of my ability to talk my way around the bedroom. I’m just still not sure what you’re asking me to do? I can’t, like, coach you.” Steve sips his beer again–a longer pull of the liquid than before–as if he’s drawing the courage to say the next part straight from the can. Likely, he is. “Well, that’s the thing,” Steve earnestly meets Eddie’s gaze, “Maybe you can.” “What, you want me to wear a whistle around my neck and yell out pointers from the sidelines, while you fuck her?” Eddie laughs bitterly and chugs the rest of his own beer, biting back the pain of that image, “Not happening, man. No way.” Or, Steve needs a lesson in dirty talking to try to impress a girl & he wants Eddie to to be his teacher

Walk 'Em Like a Dog, Bitch - E, 6k, complete GonzoTheGreat

tags: dom/sub, collaring, breeding kink

The whine he let out was pitiful, if he cared he would have been a little embarrassed. “Please.” His hands were splayed on Eddie’s chest, like he wanted to keep him there. He wanted-- needed-- to feel wanted. And Eddie? Eddie supplied in abundance. “Oh sweetheart. Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Picnic Table Paradise - E, 2/2, complete VerumMortem

tags: semi-public sex, blow jobs, spit kink, praise kink

Eddie has established the picnic table behind the school as unapproachable. Thank god for that.

Since Prom - E, 8.6k, complete Dynamicpower

tags: miscommunication, idiot4idiot, touch starved steve, getting together

"Eddie's not my boyfriend." "You've been dating since prom." She said it so matter-of-factly. The sky was blue, the world was round, Steve and Eddie had been dating since prom. OR Eddie gives Steve his vest on prom night. Despite Eddie becoming increasingly more affectionate towards him, the significance of it doesn't occur to Steve until weeks later.

you can almost taste it - E, 26.8k, complete crybaby

tags: modern au, daddy kink, mommy kink, selfcest, foursome, dom/sub

"So…how do you want to do this? Mouths, hands, or do you wanna fuck?" The other Steve gulps. "I mean, I’ve never fucked a guy, but... I'd like to try." "I can definitely fuck you if you want, but first, if you’re into it, I kinda, really want you to pick me up and fuck me against a wall." alternate versions of steve keep showing up in their house, and there's only one way to get rid of them (hint: it's sex)

These Days are Long - E, 4k, complete thankyouplease

tags: daddy kink, collars, light bdsm, soft dom eddie

Steve has a terrible job working as an assistant for an entitled asshole. After a long, horrible day of taking abuse and running himself ragged, he just wants his daddy to take care of him.

Uptown Girl - E, 9.7k, complete GonzoTheGreat

tags: daddy kink, collars, valentines day, mommy kink, lingerie, dom/sub

It's Valentine's Day and Steve has been planning his gift for quite some time, hopefully Eddie will love it. And hopefully it'll get him what he wants.

Try Another Angle? - E, 8/8, complete starfishsquish

tags: 90s au, pornstar au, pining, lesbian nancy, stancy as pornstars, background steddie

Nancy is the bombshell of the 90's porn scene. Popular, poised, and pretty, she's unstoppable. What will happen when her ex (and her co-star) brings in a new hire? She's cute. She's funny, and awkward, like a baby deer. Nancy doesn't like it.

don't tell me you're bi - T, 2.5k, complete starsdontsleep

tags: misunderstandings, gay disaster eddie, getting together, fluff

Steve comes out as bisexual and Eddie is certain that it's the end of the world and a ticket to heartbreak. Robin thinks he's an oblivious idiot.

take the edge off - E, series, complete @toburnup | adure

tags: hair pulling, sexual tension, roommates, orgasm denial

What's the harm in a little casual edging between roommates?

i'll bring you flowers (in the pouring rain) - T, 6.8k, complete thismomentintime

tags: misunderstandings, fluff and angst, angst with a happy ending

"You don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home." Or: Steve thinks Eddie is his boyfriend. Eddie thinks Steve is still the asshole he used to be. Mistakes are made and lessons are learned.

To Love A Monster (under the bed) - E, 7.7k, complete AlexanderPeterson

tags: monster eddie, breeding kink, breath play

When he was little, Steve Harrington never believed in monsters under the bed. In the winter of 1986 he learned differently. Or: “The One Where Steve Harrington Gets Railed By The Monster Under His Bed”

heavy is the head - E, 3.7k, complete phoeniceae

tags: rimming, exhibitionism, quiet sex

What Steve wants… it’s not as if they’ve never done it. They’ve just never done it like that. And they sure as shit haven’t done it with Wayne Douglas Munson sitting in the very next room, only the low hum of the TV to drown out every deafening pound of Eddie’s heart. He’s still staring, heart going double time. Doesn’t budge an inch. Steve lifts one perfectly arched brow. Goddamn it. So, so stupid.

open up your lovin' arms (I want some) - T, 2.8k, complete @legitcookie

tags: pining, fluff, getting together, steve has a decent mom

Steve gets his wisdom teeth removed, Eddie's there to help, and a secret (or two) is said

here i have found some piece of mind - E, 7/7, complete @steves-strapcollection | @gerrystamour

tags: AKA MY FAVORITE FIC EVER!!!!!!, transmasc steve, rockstar eddie, platonic hellcheer, miscommunication, love confessions, modern au, masturbation (like... a lot. it's fantastic), barebacking, steve has a good mom

ger's specific tag: eddie fingers both of steve's holes a lil bit, bc when ur bf has two holes u gotta treat them right

Steve Harrington works at a hotel in Chicago, responsible for making and managing reservations for groups of all kinds: corporate, tours, entertainment, you name it. When some famous metal band signs a contract for rooms three months ahead of their concert date, Steve is swept into a flirtatious back-and-forth with someone he as been led to believe is the tour manager, Chris Cunningham, and quickly finds himself falling for the man... Eddie Munson is a rockstar still riding the high of Corroded Coffin finally, finally making it big, but with the fame he finds himself almost lonelier than he was before. So when he answers his tour manager's phone and a nice guy with a cute voice starts calling him "Chris," Eddie plays along and maybe gets a bit carried away... NOW WITH ART

Honesty Is The Best Policy - M, 1.3k, complete beetlesandstars

tags: truth serum, love confessions, first kiss

“What are you looking at?” Eddie asks. “Your mouth.” “Why?” “You have a nice mouth,” Steve says through gritted teeth. (After being dosed with a truth serum, Steve and Eddie have an interesting conversation in the car.)

Keep You Always - E, 5/5, complete novemberthorne

tags: omega eddie, omega steve, transitioning, alpha steve, gender dysphoria, sub top steve, dom bottom eddie

"God, I'm so lucky. Are you still gonna let me take care of you as an alpha, baby?" He emphasizes the question by squeezing Steve's waist. Steve just giggles. "Of course. Told you. Like to feel kept." And oh, he knows that tone. He knows the sound, he knows the taste of it, because it's what he usually licks out of Steve's mouth when he's soaring. When Eddie's treated him so good he's gone a little loopy from it. It's his favorite thing. "Good, because I like keeping you."

#cj talks #fic rec #apologies if anything is linked wrong - i tried to go over everything but i've got the flu so things may have been missed #just shoot me an ask if so!#steddie #steddie fic rec #steddie fic #this is an open letter to gonzothegreat and godsdoggy - im on my knees platonically asking for your hands in marriage

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sevenpoyo · 9 months

Text

school headcanons for because i only got 3 more weeks

margo’s is so long even tho she got like 2 minutes of screen time bc i love her so much and she’s my gf

Margo Kess, 1610Miles, 42Miles, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar

margo kess / spiderbyte

ain’t shorty on zoom in the movie?

my girl dont attend class, she once shut down the entire blocks power so she would have an excuse to not be in class

eats in class all class everyday, only shares with you

takes really good notes and never studies them

like???? ma’am??? share???

all her electives are programming related and she pretends to busy while playing centipede all day

sends you 50 links to stuff you might like while ur in math

she got papers that let her opt out of gym

no matter how much you beg ur gonna be alone in gym and she doesn’t feel bad about it

popular with no friends type

like everyday 50 ppl stop you both and say hi

she only knows like 5 of their names she can’t stand half of them niggas

empty ass backpack like she got one notebook and one binder

all a’s and b’s like bitch how

her memory is absolutely ass but she can remember every story you told her or stuff that happened when y’all hang out

don’t ask her what she did in her class

don’t ask her if her class also has a history test

she don’t know

she don’t care

but she do know that when you were 8 your cousin burned ur thigh while y’all were playing iron vs knife fight

(u were dumb as hell for picking knife everyone knows iron always wins)

i looked it up on her word everybody uses those virtual avatars

she’ll shit on your class choices so damn hard

she just likes making fun of your choices fr

like half of ur conversation go;

damn i’m tired

u was up doing stupid shit last night you don’t get to complain

stfu that’s why ur a bitmoji

that’s why ur granny beat ur ass for something your brother did when you were 9

i hate telling u shit

then stop telling me shit

(i have no clue how accurate this is to her character but i need to write about her i’m in love but damn it’s long)

1610 miles / spider-man 2 lmao

book bag full locker full but never has a pencil

writes notes assignments and homework in paint pen ink don’t ask this nigga for notes

(he gets nigga treatment but not my queen margo bc i got favorites)

he miss mad classes but somehow still solid attendance record???

somehow always present in the record he miss 40 days and get caught on like 6 of them

unless his mom make breakfast and lunch on her day off for him he eating the most random shit from the bodega closest to visions

like what do you mean you got a cosmic brownie and a cold chopped cheese from last night ? it’s literally 7 in the morning no i don’t want none

makes you hype him up every time he slap boxes people and he’s so ass at it

he be ashy with no lotion atleast 5 times every month it’s embarrassing

he calls visions his white people school to his parents and his friends

once he said it to gwen and they sat in literal complete silence for like 10 minutes

prolly took music theory because he thought it would be easy and switched out of that shit so fast

i’d be so mean to him for enjoying physics

like this nigga trying to make something of him self

lil einstein ass nigga

he understands color theory but can’t explain it

12 half full sketchbooks but at school he literally draw on computer paper he don’t let the sketch book leave his bag

i know he’s ass at watercolor, he always spills shit, the colors always end up brown

try’s to be interested in your class choices bc he wants to know stuff he can talk about with you

when you first meet he can’t take meaner jokes bc he thinks that you mean them

but one day he’s gets comfortable, and brutal

no one in your life is safe when he looses a video game

except your mom

rio taught him better than that

42 miles / the prowler

comes to school with no school related supplies in his bag unless you count art stuff

finds a pencil on his way to class

has a change of clothes, rat tail comb, 3 bottles of water, a camera, a flashlight, lotion and cocoa butter.

like bro ur going to Ap Art not a camping trip

once he pulled out a griddle and and pancake mix and y’all started making pancakes in class

forgets his metro pass every day and gets so pissed ab it

runs into people in the hallway bc he’s never paying attention

idk if he goes to visions but if he does he calls it his white people school with his full chest to anybody even if they’re white

he be leaving halfway through the day all the time like bro you miss algebra 2 every damn day

uncle arron always talking him out of school with some bullshit reason

bro’s had his tonsils out 8 times on the school’s records

He will get ur parents to put his uncle on ur pickup list and you will be out of there with him

he will YELL if someone step on his shoes no matter what the situation like the school could be on fire and he fighting in the burning building

also his uniform is so pristine

his pants stiff

that button down is bleached ironed pressed and allat

this mfer is an online shopping addict u just know he be on amazon in class

will offer you the weirdest food combos like no i don’t want to put tajin mangoes on my beef patty i’m sick of you nigga

not school related but he’s super good with kids (both miles fr) but he’s the #1 little cousin defender and apologists

he ride for them always one of ur little cousins could sucker punch u and he be like

‘they just want u to play with them’

he takes a preforming arts class for fun prolly

loves sports but doesn’t play one understands the stats well and would help if you played one

wakes up at the asscrack of dawn on weekends

SICK ASS COSTUME FOR HOLLOWEEN IK THIS NIGGA LOVE HOLLOWEEN

plans costumes for school spirit weeks but always checks to seen if he’s gonna be the only one wearing a costume for it

never eats lunch unless his mom makes it he be hungry all day and be complaining

his socks are never in uniform (yes some uniform schools have sock rules)

gwen stacy / spider woman / ghost spider

idk what to call her

she has every snack you could ever want in her lunch bag

hates her music theory teacher

she literally has the most pristine locker with a calendar and a mirror and all that shit will write down test for you and important dates for the both of you

goes to school plays and shits on the story, like she ain’t pay 5 dollars to be there

some of her teachers hate her

like ma’am ur beefing with a whole 16 year old rn

she hate english teachers but love creative writing teachers

she keeps all her books in her locker never brings them home never brings them to class

always comes through with an extra pad no matter what

she also always has hand sanitizer

in like 4 extracurricular after school things and complains so bad

ur starting to hate that shit to ur sick of hearing it like girl quit then

10/10 cameraman she has every fight and every drama in 10khd and she will share them if you ask

she chews her pens and nails

has her drumsticks out always teachers have banned her from taking them to their classes

can watch tv on her phone but look focused you think she’s paying attention but then you look over and she’s watching good luck charlie

pavitr prabhakar / spider-man india

always late for class never in trouble

always eating and sharing food and never in trouble

how is he blessed like this? it ain’t fair

eats from the school vending machines or begs other ppl to share

will always have and share the homework answers no matter what he’s an angel

his sock always have holes in them like sir please get that shit together

gym try hard ik goes insane in football/soccer

very encouraging for shit u don’t wanna do he believes in you

you him and Gayatri talk so much shit but are somehow all well liked

he tells you what teachers are dating (he can just tell)

he has toothpaste in his bag for some reason?? i can just feel this one

his aunt will let you come over after school she’s so sweet to you.

always got a job at school assemblies

he’s reading poems or shaking hand or leading in the school pledge or something

Pav’s is short because i have no fucking clue if school in India is different form america and Barbados

#miles morales x reader #42 miles morales #margo kess x reader #gwen stacy x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr my beloved #atsv x reader #atsv spoilers #spider byte x reader #the prowler x reader #42 miles morales x reader

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mechaknight-98 · 3 months

Text

Gathering Side Story: Bonehoard Dracosaur

Authors note: I'm sorry @okaylikesmomo I'm using your muse for a little bit, but I promise I'll take good care of her. This is probably my most out-there piece and takes my best and (worst traits) as a writer to their logical extremes which works for this specific project so enjoy.

I got a call from Kkura before the mixer. She asked my status on helping with the mixer and I explained to her that Astrid and Emma were “going through a rough patch.” so my status was not currently on priority.

“Ugh ever since she started dating her she's been so annoying.” Sakura Groaned. There was a gap after

“Uh, Kkura Did you need anything else?”

I waited for a moment then heard “Yeah can you babysit Chaewon for a couple of days?”

I pause and think to myself how to respond to this. What would be “tactful” and what would be “appropriate” but ultimately I kept being hung up around the fact that Chaewon was a grown woman. Then I realized maybe I heard wrong,

“Did you mean Eunchae?” I asked patiently

“No I meant Chaewon.” sakura said matter of factly

“Kkura Chaewon is a grown-ass woman,” I responded

“Yes, and you've seen her she so. What does Jen say? Baby coded” Sakura responded

“Kkura I am going to ask this once…why?” I said

“Chaewon will be lonely because we all have schedules and I don't want her alone at the dorm. Don't worry we’ll make you look like staff if privacy is an issue.” Sakura answered

“That's not the… you know what fine. I'll do it but you owe me.” I responded

“I know. See you tomorrow?” sakura said pleasantly. I could almost hear her smug smirk.

The next day was arduous and prolix at work so when I arrived at the fimmies dorm I was drained. When I had finished I made the journey to the Le Sserafim dorm. I arrived at half past noon there time and knocked on the door.

I heard a cute whine of “Who is it?” Before responding “The pizza guy.” The door opened and Chaewon smiled (probably because I brought pizza) and let me in. After I set the food down on the dorm counter Chae held me tight for a solid 5 minutes. Then after breaking the hug smiled and stared at me with those big soft brown eyes, and said “I missed you Sho.”

“Oh, using my middle name are we? I should have never told you that.” I teased.

Chae’s eyes light up with competitive energy. “It’s only us here.” She fired back.

I relented and said, “fair.” Chae’s eyes softened and my heart fluttered with the look she gave as she held me tight.

“I missed you Sho. Why did it take you so long to visit?” Chae asked, and I gave her an honest answer

“I wasn’t invited and I didn’t want things to be awkward between Sakura and I. So I waited for her to reach out.”

Chaewon didn’t like that answer and said, “Why didn’t you ask me what I wanted? We could have hung out like old times!” Her fiery tiger was coming out and if I wasn’t careful she was going to shift on me right here and now.

“Listen palm top tiger if you wanted to hang out you could have called me instead of avoiding me.” Chaewon’s fury didn’t extinguish but was greatly diminished by my statement. Chae scoffed before saying

“You’re lucky you’re so kind.” As she walked away my mind was consumed and confused by that emotional moment. Does Chaewon like me??

Nah there’s no way. I thought to myself as I took my seat next to her. She opens the first pizza box and then turns to me surprised. She happily grabs a slice and takes a bite. Her eyes widened as she said “Mmm so good” before taking another bite

As we eat I ask her about her upcoming comeback. Chae’s eyes light up

“It’s good I’m so glad Fimmes are excited and enjoying the trailers. Also (Chae looks around) don’t tell anyone this but we’re planning a world tour.“

I squinted at Chae then said “I…uh who would I tell. Y’all are pretty much my only friends who would care.” Chaewon laughs and then looks at me with sad eyes.

“Hey, you do film stuff right like Screenwriting maybe my mom could help you get a job out here,” Chae says in a tone that was unfamiliar to me coming from her.

“Okay, Chae if you think it will help I will do it your way.” Chae’s eyes widen in such fervor that she says

“Okay let's visit my mom after we finish eating!” she exclaims

“Wow, there tiger don't you think this is a lot to spring on your mom in one go?”

“No!” Chaewon said flatly. I laughed as she leaned into me as she ate. After she finished her slice she began to sniff me, I turned to her and her eyes flashed red.

“You smell wonderful I bet you taste good too. She said before licking my neck seductively.

*I forgot that Chaewon is a weretiger and that this weekend was a blood moon. So Chae might not be fully composed for the next few days.*

She used her surprising strength and pinned me to one of her dorm walls. Her grin was cute but her energy was ferocious. “You taste so sweet.” she cooed her eyes blood red. She opens her mouth after saying “I want you in my pack.” she bares her fangs as she starts to partially shift. I'm paralyzed by her pheromones, but I know I can't let her turn me because I have no self-control so I try to get her back in control.

“Chae, Chae boundaries,” I say as she nears closer and closer. Before her eyes went back to their normal yellow tiger eyes then to the soft brown. Her eyes stare into mine as she slowly recollects herself.

“So what's going on?” she asked a bit disoriented.

“Oh nothing you just told me you had a crush on me.” I teased.

Chae rolled her eyes and said, “Please you? I'd never, but since you're already close.” as she finished her retort she hugged me again. After that she had me go with her to visit her mom. It was a cold winter day so we both bundled up. Chae as always looked adorable and I got that weird feeling in my heart again. Thankfully for me, the trip to her mom’s house was quick so we weren't in the cold too much. When we arrived her mom was surprised to see me (obviously I'm a random black dude) and joyful to see her daughter.

“Mom!” Chaewon exclaims happily as I follow her in.

“Hey Chae Chae,” Chaewon’s mother said. Chaewon’s mother was smiling brightly till she saw me her smile dimmed slightly. “Who is this?” her mother asked

“Oh this is Percival Showa Carmichael, but I call him Sho. He's my friend who I'm hanging out with this weekend.”

“Um, Chae this weekend is the order Elders’ assembly. You can't “hang out” this weekend.” Chaewon’s mother said. Chaewon’s eyes narrowed then she had to excuse herself as she needed to take a call. Leaving me alone with her mom. When Chaewon leaves her mom’s eyes narrow and she stares at me with furious eyes.

“Why are you here?” she asks coldly. It would have been intimidating if she wasn't tiny like Chae

“As a favor to Sakura mostly but also because I like Chaewon’s company.”

Ran-hee (chaewon’s mom) eyed me maliciously, “Really you're not here looking for a job or any other benefit.”

“Personally no, but your daughter wants me to stay but your daughter came here to ask, and with their being a blood moon. I figured it's best to not give her any issues this weekend. I'm not saying no to anything from her. Going to feed her at regular intervals and make sure she is taken care of this weekend so I'll make it out alive.”

Ran-hee’s eyes flared red as she stared at me, “You know of our condition.” I nod which enraged Ran-hee more somehow. “What's in it for you?”

“Honestly I don't know. I get another favor from Sakura but to be honest I have like 5 of those already and have no idea how to cash in on them.”

Ran-hee looked at me confused then asked, “So you have favors from Sakura, but come to me for help on your account.”

I blinked several times and then said “holy cow you're right. I had been so focused on being a good friend to the Fimmies that I never considered myself in their lives. Especially since Sakura got Connor and Dexter all those Fearless Kkura episodes.”

Ran-hee laughed hearing me go through my thought process before saying, “I see why my daughter talks so highly of you.” now it's my turn to look at her confused

“She's met me 5 times before though”

“Yes, and it was enough to make an impression. She says you're aggressively kind-hearted and an exceptional friend. You are absent-minded though.” Ran-hee proclaims

“Oh yeah, I get that a lot.” I respond “I am a little tired but thank you for the kind words though.”

Ran-hee nods then her tone shifts, “Since you know about my family’s condition I will warn you. She will expect you to go with her to the Elders’ assembly this weekend, and you best watch your back. The other packs may not take as kindly as my daughter’s hand is highly prized.” I nod at her warning. Then I realized the implication.

“Oh uh, Chae and I aren't uh.” I stammered. Ran-Hee laughed at my discomfort like a big catch watching its prey squirm before going in for the kill

“You know you are the first male friend my daughter has brought home singularly,” Ran-hee explained “so she must be comfortable with you. I'm curious what you think about my daughter.” realizing I had been pinned by a woman in Chaewon’s family for the second time today. I stayed silent in hopes of avoiding saying something silly but Chaewon's mom’s gaze was unrelenting. Thankfully as I was about to break Chae walked in.

“Oh, Chae your friend Sho was just telling me how he'd be happy to go with you to the Elders’ assembly.” Chae’s eyes grow bigger than I've ever seen and hugs me.

“Thank you,” Chae repeats while hugging me.

I see Chae’s mom shoot me a teasing smile before she mouths “Good luck” I loosen up in Chaewon’s grip. She in return hugs me tighter.

“So Chae what caused your visit?”

“Oh, Chae Chae you mentioned you had something to ask me before you left what was it,” Ran-hee said as I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, I was wondering if you knew anyone looking for a cameraman because Sho is looking so he can stay in Korea.” the two ladies began speaking in Korean faster than I could understand so I just stood there as Chaewon’s sapient teddy bear listening to the sounds of their voices. After Chae and I left back to her dorm. When we arrive she changes back into a crop top and sweatpants, I sit on the couch while she does this. When she finishes she walks back into the dorm living room. Her eyes are lidded as she approaches. Her pheromones are overwhelming as she sits next to me.

“Hey Chae is everything alright I ask.”

Chae smiles, “You're so sweet caring so much for me.” as she speaks her eyes flicker between a vibrant gold and a vibrant red. “You've been so supportive,” Chae adds as she begins to cling to my body as she does she looks up at my eyes.

“Hey Sho what happened to your eye,” Chae asked. She was the first to ask about it since it happened.

“Um remember that military sans frontier liberates situation a few years ago.”?”

“Yeah, some mercenaries took over California and turned it into a militant war state, but were defeated by a group of guerilla fighters who….oh my God you were a Guerilla fighter!” Chaewon concluded.

“Kind of.” I responded Chae scowled, “What do you mean kind of?”

“Well, I found the Phi Codex Nanite and pushed both Militias out of My home.

“Wait so you're not a nexo?”Chaewon asked

“Nope… I lie because no one believes me when I tell them the truth.” I explained

“But I believe you,” Chaewon said nestling closer

“Well you're the first,” I answered

Chaewon stopped getting closer when our heads touched. She smelled sweet like fruit. Her eyes locked with mine.

“Well, why would you lie? About that.” Chae asked. I nodded at Chae who smiled at me. Her eyes were bright red. She moved in closer. Any closer and we'd be kissing.

“Chae you're close,” I said

“I know but you're not telling me to move.” Chae chides

“Chae. I…” I stammered

“Can you stop thinking for a moment and just feel? I know you “turned your heart off but tell me what do you feel right now?” Chaewon said. Her pheromones overwhelmed me and I kissed her all my rational thoughts were gone. Chaewon returned the kiss with even more fervor. Her fire was only rising as she intensified the kiss. When she broke it a trail of saliva connected us. Chaewon licked her lips before saying “You're mine now.” she said with lidded crimson eyes and then her eyes went back to normal well the regular gold then brown, but her pheromones still bathed the entire room so I was panting as she broke from the kiss.

“Oh, Sho what's going on your breathing is so heavy. Still not fully recovered I kissed Chaewon again. She yelped in surprise this time before pushing me off.

“You what the heck dude, you can't just kiss me like that,” Chaewon yelled. As her pheromones dissipated I responded

“Chae you have been blasting me with mating pheromones for the past few hours.”

Chae rolled her eyes until she sniffed the air and then said “Oh god is that why it smells like…oh that's me.” she said as realization hit her. She looked at me ashamed. “I am so sorry I have been having “episodes”

“Of you blacking out and waking up moments later.” I finished

“Wait how did you know,” she asked

“Chae you're a true alpha,” I say

“No that's just a myth. I'm just a new omega variant” she said meekly

“No Chae. You are a true alpha.” I explain

“But then why do I have all the pheromones and abilities of others…”Chae started

I stopped her before she could get going then interjected “Chae I know it may seem far-fetched but can I ask that you trust me on this.”

“Okay fine. So what do we do now?” Chae asked

“Well, what do you want to do?” I asked Chae

“Can you keep it a secret during the assembly?” I nod but something is bothering me about our dynamic

“Hey, Chae do you have romantic feelings for me?”

“What no why would you think that we are friends,” Chae said stammering

“Chae” I repeated

Chaewon looked at me with misty-eyed tears beginning to well within her big brown eyes which made me feel guilty, “No I don't besides how can I feel any kind of way when you had feelings for Kkura, plus you're never around anymore.”

“Chaewon!” I exclaimed firmly which caused her to yelp and then break down into tears.

“Why did you have to have a crush on Sakura? why wasn't I good enough? Why did you leave me?” Chaewon pestered me with questions as the tears began flowing. She also began hitting me but they weren't hard. I wrap my arms around Chaewon. I hold her tight as she sobs. Something about this felt familiar, but I couldn't place it.

I look down into her big brown eyes. I hold her face softly then kiss her again. This one is certainly less aggressive the the pheromone-fueled one earlier and hopefully established how I felt about her. When our eyes opened and we broke this kiss she looked at me startled and then she regained composure.

“What's wrong?” I asked

“Nothing thought I saw something but probably just a trick of the light,” Chaewon answered putting me at ease.

I nodded and then asked her if she still wanted to date so there was no confusion about how I felt or where I stood whatsoever. Chae smiles and then nods quickly. I smile back we stand there awkwardly in this hug trying to figure out what to do next for a few minutes as I didn't expect this to happen. Eventually, we just sat down and cuddled. I know Skinship was a huge thing for Chaewon and Sakura so I let her indulge to the fullest. Thankfully she wasn't pheromone blasting me so nothing escalated

“Hey, whatever happened between you and Ahin? You went to that party with her, and we heard nothing else.

“Oh right, I forgot to tell y'all. She was dating the CEO of the company she models for.” I explained and Chaewon nodded “She just wanted to let her friend Kim Lip have a +1 for the party.” I added

Chaewon gave me a confused look“So what happened between you and her ?”

“Literally nothing. I tried to make sure she had a good time but the language barrier was a bit of an issue.” I answered along with a shrug.

“Yeah, you're Korean needs work.” Chaewon said smiling, “But it's okay though. I'll help you learn it in no time.” Chaewon smiled

A little while later we both fell asleep together on her dorm’s couch I woke up to a sudden gasp by Chae

“We should build a pair of two-headed giant commander decks,” she said,

I squinted “Chae that's the nerdiest and dorkiest thing you've ever said. Of course, let's do it.”I said as I watched Chae’s face turn from sad and defeated to jubilant and joyful.

“Okay let's start with themes. Do you have any ideas that aren't in the color combinations of Naya, Esper, Jund, Sultai, Jeskai, Mardu, and Abzan Grixis?”

“So you want complimentary Bant and Temur decks?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there are limited themes I could come up with; creature combo, creature feature, and Voltron maybe are what comes to mind. What did you have in mind, any commander preference?” I ask Chae

“What's Creature feature?” Chae asked confused.

“Creature feature is a deck centered around mainly one Creature type or subtype that is structured around the synergies of said creatures. Originally it was called “tribal” but that was deemed an obsolete term so they call it something else I'm just going to call it creature feature as that's easier to explain than having to go over the discussion which is the popular term now. ”

“Okay but how did you come up with the name “creature feature”” Chaewon asked curiously

“Well, love (Chaewon rolled her eyes at that sarcastically) around the 1950s or so there were these films in the US that were typically horror films centered around one Creature. These films were usually feature length so the Genre became known as Creature Features. I think it gets the principle across and rolls off the tongue a lot better than Typal Kindred or whatever the new term is.” I said

“Creature Feature. I like it” Chaewon said Smiling. I gave her a thumbs up and Chae lit up excitedly and then said, “Yeah let's do that.” I nod then get to work. I start building a dinosaur deck which Chae laughs at.

“So now we’ll have two dinosaur decks in the mix.”

“Let me guess Dexter is running the other?”

“You got it,” Chaewon said with a smile as we spent the rest of the day testing and adjusting to make sure our decks were a well-oiled machine together. She built Rigo Streetwise Mentor, and I built Owen and Blue. Surprisingly the decks worked well together. Mostly the support pieces but turns out my putting in last March of the ents and Ghalta stampede tyrant was also a big boon to her. Her big walls gave me the resources needed to have some truly explosive turns. She also loved my flicker shenanigans which helped her consistently push ahead since a bunch of jet creatures had impressive etbs. In the end, Chaewon smiled and then said, “Woo finally done.” I nodded and went back to the pizza that was still there

“Mm mashta,” Chaewon said as we finished the rest of the food and snacks. As we finished Chae got up and beckoned for me to follow. She pulled me into a comfortable hug (even though I was taller) and she said, “You know tomorrow you're going to have to fight in our rituals right?” I nod. Chae looks up at me and then says. I know it will be difficult but can you try not to hurt anyone?” I nodded and Chaewon smiled. After that, we got ready for the night. Chaewon insisted I sleep in her bed with her but also on “no funny business.”

“Well then don't Pheromone bomb me and we won't have issues.” I teased. Chaewon hit me lightly and said, “Yeah no teasing.” I nod and spoon her to sleep. I dream I was a dinosaur being chased by a large pale bear, and when the bear caught me it said

“You need to remember” but before I could do anything else I woke up to Chaewon ruffling up my hair.

“You ready?” she asked with a vibrant smile. I nod. As we got ready the other Fimmies entered the room. All but Kazuha were surprised to see me. Kazuha was the first. She walked in and said our greetings before she left. She asked me to keep Chaewon on time which I was more than happy to do. Next was Eunchae who needed eyeliner from Chaewon’s room. I handed it to her which caused her to yelp in surprise.

“Civy Oppa,” Eunchae said perplexed. I gave a silent wave. Which caused her to smile Mischeviously

“Unnie did you and Oppa…” Eunchae asked before trailing off. She didn’t say anything but the implication was there.

“Yah Manchae!” Chaewon yelled which caused the other Fimmies who hadn’t already been in the dorm to enter.

“Oppa?” Yunjin said as she came in. Sakura was the last to come in she saw me and then said “What?” After that Chaewon had me get in the shower while she explained everything to her members afterwards Sakura and Yunjin cornered me before leaving

“Oppa why did you kiss Chaewon yesterday?” Sakura asked

“The first time or the second time or the third time?” I asked.

“The first time duh,” Yunjin asked

“Because Chae has no control over her pheromones and she had to blast me with them throughout the day, but if you’re worried about that being the only reason it’s not. She asked me why I didn’t choose her when I first met you all. So I asked if she even still wanted to date me. She said yes. So I chose her.”

“Percival!” Sakura exclaimed. I knew it was serious because she made the effort to say my first name. “You can’t just go playing with her heart like that.”

“What?”

“You can’t be this dumb with how smart you are. you can’t use your Chae to get to me.” Sakura said. I was taken aback by that response so me having a response to that was not easy.

“I uh what?”

“Don’t try to deny it you haven’t reached out in almost 8 months and you magically want to date Chaewon now?”

“Um, Sakura what was the last message I texted you?” I asked

“That you needed time and space to work on yourself,” Sakura answered

I groaned and reached to my phone to see if I still had the messages. I did and handed my phone to Sakura

“Dear Kkura I’m good let’s hang out again sent October 27”

Yunjin looked at me and then at Sakura. “Um, Unnie why didn’t you tell us this?” She said confused

“I never got this message,” Sakura said confused

“Well, I hope I’m in the clear because we built matching decks for two-headed dragon. I’m committed to Chaewon now.” I replied to which Yunjin laughed and replied

“That’s so cute.” I gave Yunjin the thumbs up as she smiled. Chaewon eventually finds me and asks what we are talking about.

I grab her tight in a hug before saying, “Oh just telling them about our new decks.” Chaewon pouted before hitting me.

“Babe it’s supposed to be a secret.” She whined. I smiled

“Look honey it will be fine they don’t know anything else except that we built new decks.”

“Okay but no more saying anything else. Got it?”

“Of course love.”

With that weird situation over we left the dorm to meet up with Dexter and Connor. After that, we all arrived at the assembly location. It was a place on Jeju Island that was separate from public access so it would be quiet. Hopefully.

I open the door to the assembly for my friends which draws a lot of looks from them.

“That door can only be opened via the aura of a were person. how did you do that?” Dexter asked.

I shrugged and gestured for everyone to get inside.

As we walk in I see some familiar faces. Well familiar in that I've seen them on a screen it's all of Izone. I watch as both Chae and Sakura squeal before running to their friends. I smile until I hear an oddly familiar voice say “Showa?”

I turn to see Donna and several memories (many of them painful) flood back into my skull

“You did this to me!” I yell as my blood starts to boil and I take a step toward her. flames begin to burn holes in my clothes

“Turned me then left me to die,” I yelled as I took another step. The left side of my face began to bubble pop as my skin began melting off.

“They made me a monster hybridizing me with everything they could find.” another step as my bone extended outside of my regular skin and was replaced with new molten flesh.

“That wasn't even the worst part. they made me hunt others and kill and kill and kill.” my voice trailed off as my skin melted off in molten sludge and then the rest of my human body exploded like a volcano leaving my Dinosaur Dragon form

“Look at what they made me. Look at what you made me!” I growled as the air burned around me. Donna looked at me in terror. Before I could move 7 elders came in front of me

“Halt!” one demanded

“What pack are you with? Who is your alpha?” another asked. I chuckled and turned my head a full 108 down

“My Alpha is right there,” I said pointing to Donna however before I could announce that I didn't have a pack another familiar voice said,

“Stand down he's with me.” every turn around another” Donna approached. I knew this Donna as my boss Voruna.

the elders stood down and one of them said to Voruna, “You'd better keep your beta on a short leash.”

Voruna turned to the Elder and pointed to me, “You see his eyes. Do those look like the eyes of a beta to you?” she said coldly. “Don't forget your place I am still a primarch,” Voruna says. She then turns to me and chuckles. “I'm surprised to see you here Caliban, but it's good that you're here I need your help. So shift back.” Voruna says swiftly. My anger dissipates into the emotional equivalent of a groan. I shift back and turn back to my friends who were looking at me shocked, “Sorry guys duty calls.” I say as I follow her. Chaewon however wasn't pleased with that answer and ran to me.

“Wait Sho (rats she called me that in public) what just happened there?” She said standing in between Corina and I

“Chae it's a very long story.”

“Then shorten it,” Chaewon said unmoving her eyes went red and her pheromones began to flow. These weren't mating ones, however, but submission ones.

“Chae I.” I stammered as the Alpha in me was beginning to come out again at being challenged by a “lesser one, but my heart wanted to talk to her.

“Sorry Mrs Kim I need your boyfriend for a moment I promise I'll give him back to you, and I am in a bit of a hurry.”

Chaewon stood firm, a glimpse of her back to her Izone days as one of the tough-as-nails makes.

“Oh not intimidated? I like it. Okay, I'll throw you a proverbial bone. My sister Donna turned you boyfriend because he would become an ancient. However, before she could welcome him to the circle The Machinist found him. They had him do some very bad things without his consent, but thankfully it was to some very bad people. However, having an ancient unaccounted for was still a mess. A mess my sister made of course but being the kind older sister I am I found him and cleaned him up. Now I need to properly “pack him” As you can see he is an Alpha with no pack.” Chaewon’s eyes widened but she relented on the condition she could come with. Which led to everyone following. Voruna groaned but let everyone follow. Eventually, we came to an Alpha-only meeting. So everyone who wasn't an alpha had to hang back due to the “charm” on the outside. So needless to say Chae got a few stares when she galavanted in with me.

I get stares on the back end when we enter the meeting. I see Karina talking to a guy I don't recognize but they seem friendly. They approach Chae and I (Voruna left to ameliorate some other issues )

“Hi, Daewon. Hi Karina.” Chaewon says as they walk over

“Chae?” Karina says surprised Chaewon nods proudly

The two of them start speaking Korean faster than I can keep up. Daewon approaches me skeptically and says “So you Voruna’s newest clean-up project.” I shrug.

“You're pretty nonchalant for someone who almost everyone is going to be gunning for. I mean going after Chaewon whose alpha abilities despite being an omega make her highly sought after and being Voruna’s lapdog. Everyone is going to be itching to face you in the rituals.” Daewon says

I yawned disinterested and said, “Look boss I know you mean well but I'd just like to put some things into perspective. 1.) Okay so everyone gunning for me, as far as I can tell I'm the only ancient. 2.) I am used to fighting apexes no one else here has probably even seen one. 3.) I've been fighting alone for so long against impossible odds what's another set of em” Dawson smiled then said,

“I like you I hope you win. We need more revolutionary Alphas.” taken aback not expecting to agree with Daewon goes back to Karina when she says,

“Oh honey the meetings are about to start.” as the two of them walk away I point to Karina and Daewon

“Fiancee” she mouths. I nod in understanding. The meeting starts and I can feel all of the hostile eyes on me. I felt isolated Alone like when I was taken by the machinists. I was merely an object of malignant interest to these people. As my rage began to swell I felt a hand forcibly open mine and grip it. I look over to see Chaewon biting her nails nervously. She looked to me for security so I had to push my rage down and offer encouragement. I caressed her hand and Chaewon’s distressed frown became a hopeful smile.

“First order of business. We have a new Alpha to introduce today.” Voruna says. Which causes me to snap my attention to the center of the hall.

“Caliban why don't you introduce yourself to the council of Elders?”

I nod and say, “Hello My name is Percival Showa Anderson. I'm from California…” before I could say anything else a fist slammed on the table from one of the elders

“Why are we acknowledging this monster.” the elder said. I tried to hide my smirk. I reveled in being called that because if I was feared as a monster they'd be less courageous in facing me, and cowards often roamed in packs.

“Ask Donna she turned me,” I reply all eyes turn to the Daylight Primarch.

“Why Donna?” the same elder who's challenged me twice before asked.

“Because I saw he was going to be an ancient and we needed the power. I never expected that any of what happened would.” I look into the eyes of the daylight primarch and surprisingly see remorse and sadness. I swallowed hard as maybe I was too harsh on her earlier. I softened the menacing aura I brought into this and eased my mind. Leaning into Chaewon I smile at her and she does the same back. I can tell she's worried

“Don't worry it will be fine,” I say.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #edh #mtg commander #le sserafim #le sserafim chaewon #chaewon

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