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#'hey i think i can do this best buzz off'
confessioncassette · 2 days
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The Belly of a Black Heart - Alastor x Reader
18+. minors do not interact.
thank you @lustylita for the inspiration of this fic. your mind is a beautiful place. everyone check out her art and her concept to this story here. all credits to her, this was not my idea.
part 2
summary : After an unsuspecting death, you end up in hell and at the Hazbin Hotel. You become dead set on redemption. Alastor's feelings towards you are confusing and it pisses him off more than he can handle. In result, unknowingly to him, his feelings manifest through his shadow.
tw : no smut this chapter. angst. alastor being a jerk. mild gore/wound
words : 5.3k
notes : i hope you enjoy this chapter <3
When you wake the next morning, your head is a blur. Sitting up in your bed you take a minute to look around your new living situation. It takes a second to understand that this isn’t the room you usually wake up in but, despite all of that, you feel good. 
The reality of being in hell was hard on you yesterday. You’ve had your little breakdown and denial fest.. you won’t let that bother you today. Pushing past things is how you manage. Always one step at a time. Plus, you’re in a place that offers redemption now. What’s done is done and now you can focus on how to get into heaven and maybe sort out a plan there. With God or something, right? 
He’s literally God, maybe he could help your situation on earth. You doubt anyone here could help you… or even want to help you. 
No headaches, your body doesn’t burn… today feels like you can start fresh. Rolling to get out of bed, your eyes catch a bundle of red in the corner of your eye.  
Three red peonies tied together in a bow lay delicately over your unoccupied pillow.
You examine the vibrant flowers and thumb around the stems. You wonder who was thoughtful enough to give a simple yet welcoming gift. 
Alastor’s fleeting expression and charming smile snatches your memory from last night. Your face almost burns, remembering how close he was to you, his face grazing against your cheek, breath fanning over you as it does. 
Smiling to yourself, you think today would be a good day to get back on track. Charlie is willing to help you, and you might learn more about the gentleman from last night. You can even thank him for the lovely flowers. 
The hotel buzzes with life when you walk to the formal dining room. Delicious breakfast foods waft through the air. The warm smell of coffee buzzes through your body. 
“C’mon Husky, don’t chya wanna try it? I’ve been slavin’ over this all mornin’ for ya!” A tall, fluffy man leans over the dining room table, sliding a plate of food to a grumpy cat. 
“Fuck no! Satan knows what you put in there and I don’t wanna risk dying twice.” Taking a swig from a browned bottle, the cat pushes away the plate. 
The tall man’s shoulder slump as he lets out a groan. “Fine, but one day you’re gunna try my cookin’ and you’ll love it. You might even beg for moore.” He teases, taking the plate for himself as Husk rolls his eyes. 
“Oh, good morning! How was your first night?” Charlie beams from the head of the table and everyone’s heads swivel to you. Suddenly, you’re on the spot. 
“It was great, thank you. I actually had the best sleep I’ve had in a while,” you smile, “I needed it.” 
“Everyone welcome our new guest! She arrived late last night.” 
It was a small creature with a giant eye who lunged herself toward you first. Her little legs patting the floor and up your body before you could react. 
“I’m Nifty, I clean.” A sinister giggle erupts from her lips before the tall man who offered.. Husk is it?.. a plate gently and removes her from you. 
“Hey doll, I’m Angel.”
Alastor watches from the hallway as the group introduces themselves to you. Hidden in the shadows, he watches you closely. The way you smile fondly towards people you barely know, how you embrace each one with a greeting. Clearly, you lighten the room. But you’re a mystery, and one he doesn’t want to get involved with. 
Does he? 
Your sweet doe eyes are burned in a memory. He couldn’t help but get close enough to smell you, and fuck, did your saccerine smell burn through his nostrils as well. He could see your panic, the reality of your new eternal life smacking you in the face… the frustration it caused you last night. 
But were you really keen on redemption? He could see the light beam behind your eyes once you stood at the center of your room. You belong here, you’re here for a reason. It’s hell afterall. Every sinner who comes here belongs to this wretched place to burn forever. Surely Charlie’s delusions didn’t persuade you in one night? 
Surely you’re not that…simple? 
“Will Alastor be joining us for breakfast? He’s the only one I haven’t seen this morning.” Alastor ears perk up at your voice from afar. 
“Ehh, smiles doesn’t usually eat with us. Probably up in his room going to town on some animal he caught this mornin’.” Angel grimaces. 
Watching your reaction closely, the slight fall of your face doesn’t go unnoticed. But you’re quick to recover with a smile and dig in with everyone else. 
“Okay everyone! Gather around! Today we will be learning about each other.” Charlie’s hand gestures to you on the couch as everyone else filters into the common room. 
Angel plops himself over the couch’s armchair next to you, stretching his long legs over your thighs. Husk mopes in the room, bottle in hand and leans against the fireplace. Nifty props herself over the table happily swinging her legs and Vaggie stands beside her partner, eyeing everyone down. 
Your eyes carefully glance around the room, trying not to bring attention that you’re looking for Alastor. From your comment at breakfast before, you don’t want to keep bringing the man up to avoid conversations you don’t want to have. 
But it fails. 
“Looking for tall dark and creepy?” Angel shimmies his chest and throws you a wink. 
Rolling your eyes you push playfully at Angel’s leg. “No, just making sure everyone is here.” Giving him a side eye you whisper, “nosey.”
Angel laughs and gives you a nudge, “Well looks like you’re in luck toots, looks who’s comin’.” 
Perking up, you watch Alastor’s tall form stride in the room and take a seat in an armchair directly across from you. His smile is wide, but it seems strained? Folding one leg over the other, he relaxes back into his seat. His eyes scan the room, probably checking for roll-call, before landing directly over you. 
You give a smile but he doesn’t react. 
“Okay! Now that everyone is here, we will be telling 2 truths and a lie. Everyone will say two truths about themselves and one lie. The group will have to guess which one is a lie. So fun!” Charlie claps. 
“I don’t want to put our new guest on the spot, so let’s start with Husk.”
A low groan emits from the fireplace where Husk stands. He really looks like he doesn’t want to be here, but maybe he’s been here long enough to know that he has to participate. 
“Alright, uh, I can down a whole bottle of whiskey with no reaction, I suck at dice games, and I hate water.”
“I’ll give you something to down, Husky~” Angel tosses his head back and blows him a kiss. 
“For fuckssake,” Husk rolls his eyes.
“Oh oh! I know, the lie is he hates water! I’ve seen him take bubble baths at night.” Nifty giggles sinisterly. 
“Okay good job, Nifty.” Vaggie cringes and turns her attention to you, “Would you like to give it a try next?” 
Glancing between her and Alastor’s heavy stare, has he been looking at you this whole time? You shrug. “Sure, I'll give it a shot. Let me think…” You hum. 
“I’ve been in hell for a long time, I love to dance and I’m pretty good at it, and I stole drugs when I was alive.” You’re not that great with coming up with things on the spot, but you gave it your best shot. First things that came to your mind and all without being too personal. 
Angel drags out a hum, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you can dance. Not sure if I would paint you as someone who would steal. You act like Miss-goodie-two-shoes’s-distant relative over there. I’m gunna go with that one.”
You couldn’t help but contain your smile, you could have sworn that your appearance gave you away that you literally died just yesterday. 
“Nope! I died yesterday and found this place last night. Thank god I saw your commercial, I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t.” 
Angel’s mouth drops open and leans forward. “Hold on, you’re like, super fresh? No kiddin’. So… you stole drugs?” He looks you up and down, “can you do it again?” 
“Matter of fact, we don’t know much about you. Anything at all really. I’ll take it you’re here because you stole, but there’s gotta be more than that.” Husk examines his bottle. 
You shift in your seat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I stole but- I don’t know.” Memories of stealing drugs, scamming people for money flood your mind. That stuff was bad, but did it really land you here in hell? I’m sure it’s a part of the 10 commandments or sins or whatever… 
The man. Your knife. 
You killed someone right before dying. 
“What drugs do you like? I got some good connections. We could totally-”
“No! Nonono, no one is going to do that. Say no to drugs! Remember we are trying to get redeemed?” Charlie’s arms wave frantically as she lets out a nervous laugh. 
It was all for protection. You never wanted to hurt anyone like that before, it’s not like you wake up blood thirty for killing. It was self defense. 
Guilt bubbles within your gut, and it’s getting hard to breathe. Would they even care if you killed? You’re sure almost everyone in hell has killed, even in the afterlife. 
“C’mon, toots, tell us a little about yourself. This is about sharing after-all,” Angel teases. “I wanna know all the shit you did when you were alive! You sound like a good time, Y’know my girl buddy would love you-”
“I think that’s enough for today.” A staticy voice interrupts the conversation. Your head swivels to meet the demon who carries a strained smile. The hair on his ears stick up in a frenzy while his claws grip over the top of his microphone cane. 
“But Alastor we barely got star-”
“I think,” Alastors voice grows with static, every word pronounced precisely, “that is enough for today.”
Angel's legs slide off you as he stands to stretch, “Aww what a buzzkill.”
Before you have the chance to leave the room, your face is met with Alastor’s chest. 
He lifts his chin, but his eyes bore down at yours. Your eyes shoot wide with the proximity, and something within his chest spurs as wait for him to speak. 
“I would like to speak with you privately, my dear.”
Following him up the stairs and into his radio tower, you tread lightly in new territory. Papers over his desk are neatly stacked next to a forgotten cup of coffee. The walls are floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pride, you’ve come to know. Dusk stretches the horizon and little dots of light twinkle in the distance over the city. On the other side of the room, old equipment lined the wall. Hundreds of knobs and switches cover the machines and you wonder how he’s able to work such equipment. Speakers, extra microphones sat upon a bookshelf along with books, magazines and other nic-nacs you’re sure he has collected through the years. 
You’re not sure how old the demon is, and you’re not sure how you haven’t thought about it since meeting him, especially when he has taken up most of your mind these past 24 hours. 
You guess he’s from the roaring 20’s? 30’s? He’s dressed sophisticatedly with not a hair out of place. His posture paints him a perfect gentleman in a society where it mattered. His transatlantic accent was smooth and you long to hear it more than you should, or do. And guessing by this set up, the ON AIR sign that hangs directly over his desk, you could be right. 
But what of this demon? What is his story? You’ll put a pin in it and ask angel later-
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here so I’ll cut to the chase.” Alastor’s arms are neatly behind his back as he looks over Pride. Without turning to you, he continues. 
“I’m looking for more help around the hotel. Husk’s job is primarily tending to the bar, Nifty cleans and Charlie is over her head with trying to recruit sinners. I’d like to say that I have everything handled with paperwork and trying to keep this pace afloat, but I don’t.”
Your brows furrow in confusion. He.. can’t handle it all? He definitely gives the calm, cool collected attitude of one who would never need help. 
“So, you need my help? I thought I was just a sinner trying to get redemption?” 
Alastor stiffens for a moment before turning to you. “I thought you should know that Charlie and I had a discussion earlier. We think that you fit into the family seamlessly. We both thought you would be great at helping us with our little project.” He tilts his head, scanning you over, “Unless you don’t want to?” 
You shake your head. This might not be a bad idea. This could actually help you in more ways than one. This could help you more with gaining redemption and be a part of a bigger picture. 
“No, that all sounds great actually. What exactly do you have in mind for me to help you with?” 
“More of the mundane things like checking over the hotel to make sure everything is in order, placing orders for food, toilet paper - the essentials.”
“So the mundane things you don’t want to do?” You laugh lightheartedly. “Sure, Alastor, I can do that for you. Do you have a check list for me?”
In one snap, Alastor conjures up a daily ‘to-do” list for you. Your eyes widen at his magic.
“If you can do that, why can’t you make food and toilet paper appear instead of ordering it?” 
His smile is smug, “It’s a lot more complicated than that, little doe” 
Turning on your heel, you say over your shoulder, “One day, I’d like to properly thank you for the flowers you left me.”
He watches you disappear through the doorway, confusion carved over his face. Flowers? 
What an interesting thing to say… An odd woman. 
Woman. Your presence had been the first in his studio.
Charlie and the guests know that no one is allowed in this room, for it’s locked 24/7. This room is his pride, his sanctuary and the one thing he’s carried on since dying. Besides killing and torturing innocent people, he supposes. 
Clawing at the staff of his cane he shakes the thought of your company being… comforting. 
His ear twitches in frustration. This foreign feeling- this odd hunger for catching your eye in a sea of others, to smell you near has become a twisted form of entertainment. He has to ignore the way his lower belly heats and aches when you're near…Is it entertainment? He stares at the door where you just stood. 
Is his curiosity growing in the little moments you spend together or is it something he can’t pinpoint? His facade will fail to hold if he continues like this. 
A predator assessing his pray like it’s a game. Except, it doesn’t feel like that kind of a hunt. 
-
Stepping out from the bathroom after your nighttime routine, a darkness catches the corner of your eye. 
“Hello?” you call out. 
The darkness in the corner slithers across the floor and manifests itself in the center of your room. 
You curse under your breath, while it’s not the craziest thing you’ve seen, it’s definitely unexpected. 
“Um, hello there��” You stay standing in the doorway of your bathroom. Looking the creature over as it stands tall. 
The creature, no, shadow, is dark, but you can make out that its body is made up of swirling smoke. It’s face gives a chiseled smile, imitating teeth through the smoke, and resting on top of it’s head were a pair of outgrown antlers that stretch wide. 
You tilt your head at the creature, curious on why it hasn’t responded to you. 
It tilts his head back, mimicking your movement. 
“Cute,” you giggle, “what are you?” 
The shadows' eyes glow green in response and gives you a bigger grin. 
“Are you here at the hotel too? I just got here yesterday…” you shift on the balls of your feet. “Do you have a name?” 
The shadow dissipates into the ground and for a moment, you’re spooked. Backing up into your bathroom, a coldness caresses your neck from behind. 
Spinning around fast, you’re met with it again. The creature folds forward to meet your face. 
Oh fuck no. 
You fumble backwards a little too fast but the creature is quick to catch you by an arm. It steadies you easily. 
“You’re.. Good, right? Friend?” The words fall stupidly out of your mouth. You feel like you’re talking to a child in simple words and a sweet voice. God knows that this creature is probably thousands of years old but you’re speaking to it like it lacks some form of intelligence. 
The creature smiles and nods, backing away from you before wisping itself around your body in a cloud of smoke. 
Warmth surrounds your body, unlike the coldness around your neck from before. 
“Friend, okay…good.” You smile and embrace the dance it gives you.
The creature manifests itself over in front of your nightstand and the bundle of shadows steps aside to reveal the red peonies from this morning. Your eyebrows raise and realization hits you.
“That was you? What a lovely gift to give.. To me.” Surprise followed by stupidity hits you in the last bit of that sentence. 
How could you be so stupid to think Alastor would give you those flowers? He hasn’t even spent much time around you, let alone want to speak to you. Every time you’re in the vicinity of him, he pretends you don’t exist. 
Foolish. 
Foolish to think that he would even take a liking to you. 
And you mentioned it to him hours ago… God, he’s probably so confused and you look like a fucking idiot. 
The shadow slumps at your reaction. Its swirls grow faster over its body, like the wheels in its head are thinking of a way to cheer you up. 
Warmth caresses around your hips and playfully drags you to your bed. You let it happen because, for some ungodly reason, you trust this shadow. 
It’s gentle hand lingers over your face, brushing over the skin of your cheek. A familiar feeling. Almost like the feeling of last night when Alastor’s-
No. 
The creature lifts your chin to look at him as he takes a seat by you on the bed and you mentally brush away the cringe.
You both stare at each other for a moment. You're entranced by its odd behavior. Although, its presence feels familiar, a kind of nostalgia you cannot place. His warmth feels like a gentle hug, a friend in the darkness when you're alone. 
The faint smell of whiskey, a bar of soap and lemongrass. 
A warm song that dances inside your nostrils. 
Your room is quiet, as you let the shadow tickle your face and neck. 
Soft music begins to play when your eyes fight sleep. But you give into the lull of the shadows lullaby. 
-
From that first night of meeting the creature, you’re woken up gently by it patting your head and urging you to get dressed. Funny enough, the creature disappears while you get ready, giving you privacy. But ultimately, you wouldn’t mind it at all if it stayed. 
One night, after a particularly hard day working under Alastor, you named the being. 
Umbra.
Not the most creative, but it was the first thing that popped in your head… and he, you’ve come to find out, was quite happy with the new nickname. 
You weren’t sure where he came from, what he is, or what manifested himself to you that night, but you’re thankful for the company. 
Umbra was quiet. He never spoke, but damn is he funny. Every night, he meets you in your room practically bouncing off the walls, or more so sliding everywhere in a mist of shadows and patiently listens when you talk about your day. 
Every morning you wake up with new little flowers over your unoccupied pillow. Each of them a bundle of red, for some reason. But lovely all the same. 
It became a nightly routine to where he’ll lull you to sleep with gentle caresses and soft old-timey music. 
And it’s given you the best sleep of your life. 
Alastor however, has been more distant than before. When asking for new lists everyday, he’ll stare down at you through lowered eyelids and hand you a list bigger than the last. 
He never questioned your flowers comment, but you’re sure he hasn’t forgotten. 
Though, through his aloof attitude, he still invades your personal space when talking to you - and he only talks to you when it’s absolutely needed. His stare burns new holes through you everyday before he locks himself up in his radio tower until dinner or Charlie's group exercises. 
“Smiles has been such a fucking jerk lately, what did you do to’m?” Angel slumps over the armchair, preoccupied with texting. 
“Me? He hardly talks to me! Everyday he’ll just hand me a list to do and disappears.”
“That’s exactly the problem, ever since he’s offered you a job here he’s been acting like there's a stick up his ass more than normal. You must being doin’ shit at your job.” He nudges you and you both laugh. 
“Yeah, no idea. I try to talk to him. He’s the one person in this whole place I don’t even know about… but he ignores me.”
“I don’t think he completely ignores you, doll face. Do you notice how you’re the only thing he can look at when you’re around? Hard to get him to help Charlie lately, too.”
You blush and drag your gaze to the floor. “No, I didn’t notice that. What’s his deal anyways?” 
Angel went into detail about how Alastor wa/is one of the most powerful overlords in the Pride ring. 7 years ago he disappeared or some shit but 7 months ago he came back and randomly ended up here. Some bullshit about wanting to help Charlie with her ridiculous delusions about saving a sinner. He’s just here for the ‘entertainment’, but he’s been a big help honestly. Especially in his battle during the extermination - before he got wounded. 
Wounded? He could get hurt? A powerful overlord who has thousands of contracted souls could get… hurt? But there airs another question…
He doesn’t believe in redemption? 
Your thoughts were cut short by a shadow carrying a mischievous grin lurking in the hallway. Umbra swirls in a mist of shadows as his eyes glow green and gestures for you to follow him. 
Raising from the couch you head his way. 
“Maybe he just needs some good head!” Angel calls out to you.
You follow Umbra as he slithers over the carpet, manifests himself over the walls and guides you upstairs. His cute grin makes you laugh, and you're excited to see what he has in store for you today. 
Not noticing that you pass your own room, your eyes only watching Umbra flee with excitement, he leads you to a door at the end of a hallway. He turns to you, looking you once over and dissipates through the door. 
Knowing you want him to follow, and without a second thought, your hand turns the knob and you fly inside Alastor’s radio room. 
There, hunched over his desk wearing only his long sleeve undershirt and pants, Alastor’s back is turned to you. 
“Who the fuck,” Alastor’s head turns over his shoulder, black eyes blown wide as his red pupils snap to you. 
“Alastor- shit, I’m,” you back away, accidentally shutting the door behind you. 
“Has anyone taught you proper manners? Don’t you know that walking in on someone is-” Every word cuts through you like a knife, the static in his voice grows louder in every syllable. The lights flicker around you as Alastor’s body grows larger in scale, his antlers growing wide. 
“I didn’t know!” You yell honestly, you didn't know. Or, you weren’t paying attention. 
“The door was locked, how did you get in here?” Red liquid oozes out of his mouth as his empty black eyes stare you down. But you’re not looking at the anger on his face, or the way his body engulfs the room. No, you're looking at how his arm covers a wound on his side. Your eyes scan to the side, where ointments and bandages lay askew over his desk. 
“You’re hurt, Alastor.” 
The radio demon stops, and for a moment, you catch surprise painted in his features. 
“Let me help?” You offer, taking a step forward. 
He doesn’t move. 
“Get out.” 
You step forward, unafraid of his form. He's hurt, and you can see the blood squelching against his hand, dripping to the floor. 
You reach out, covering your hand over his bloodied one and your eyes flicker upwards to the beast before you. 
A silent plea to let him help. If he’s been doing this on his own since the extermination, he hasn’t been doing a great job at mending it. 
He gives a frustrated sigh, and shrinks back down to his normal self. Internally rolling your eyes at how easy that was to do… an all powerful overlord listening to you was a confidence booster to say the least. 
You look down to assess the wound. His red undershirt wet and stained with blood on the right side of his torso. 
You flash him a look for silent permission, and he nods ever so slightly, his eyes fixated on your face. You begin to unbutton his shirt from the top down. You scan your fingers delicately over his chest and down towards the wound. Alastor lets out a shaky sigh that goes unnoticed by you. 
You expose his torso more by opening up his shirt to get a better look. Alastor leans back in his chair and curves his hips upwards ever so faintly. You swallow, fighting the demons in your head to take a closer look at his exposed body. 
“Looks… bad.” You manage to say, focusing only on the wound before gentle fingers slide under your chin and angle your face upwards so he can see you fully. 
And you swear, that for a moment, something swirls deep within his gaze. Something more than he lets on. A flash of hope? Eagerness?
Now’s not the time.
You clear your throat before grabbing supplies and getting to work. 
Alastor was silent as you mended him. His eyes never left your face as you cleaned the wound and bandaged it neatly. 
“All better!” You chime, doing your best to ignore the buzz on your chin from his touch, “Next time you try to do this yourself, try to find me? I don’t think it’s healed right for at least a couple weeks. You’re lucky it hasn’t gotten infected.” 
“We’re in hell, dear, I’m sure there’s worse things to worry about than an infected wound.”
He didn’t even bother to say thank you. 
Is this the sophisticated and well-mannered demon Charlie raved about? The helpful demon that made this hotel?
You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding and your shoulders shrug downward. 
“Is there a reason why you’ve been so avoidant since I arrived? Everyone has been talking about how you’ve been acting differently since I showed up. Why is that? Did I do anything to you?” You avoid his eye contact by putting away the medical supplies inside a metal box. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. I’ve always been the same.” He leans back in his chair. 
Something doesn’t add up. 
“Everyone talks about how you’re this powerful overlord, yet you lock yourself up in this tower all day and night. They all talk about how you were always around and ever since me you’re nowhere to be found.”
“I’d watch your mouth, little doe.” He snarls, but doesn’t move from his chair.
You stand, and for once you’re just taller than him even when he’s sitting down. Stories you’ve heard, the things the other residents say about him - nothing is adding up. Angel even went out of his way to ask what the fuck you did to him to act like this. 
“I can’t help but think that you’re trying to avoid me. Are you scared of me or something? Or do you just like to see me do all of your bitch work so you don’t have to look at me?” 
“And why,” Alastor stands, towering over you. You never realized how much taller and broader he is compared to you. His entire frame engulfs your size. “Would I be scared of a pathetic, weak sinner who died so easily doing something so reckless and ended up here?”
A beat, “I’d go far as to say you’re forgettable in this cesspool. Why would I go out of my way to avoid that?” He hums, lowering to your level at the waist. You want to punch that smug smile on his face. 
You ball your fists and keep his eye contact. You scrunch up your nose and grind out every word with anger, “That’s hilarious coming from someone who did the same. Not so different, you and I.”
You didn’t care enough to see his expression before turning on your heel and head straight to your room.
Sinking onto your bed, you throw your head between your hands with a groan. 
Asshole. Fucking asshole. 
It doesn't take long before a presence in front of you lingers, and a warm caress slithers over your cheek. 
“Not now, Umrba. I’m not in the mood.” 
Umbra’s smokey hand tugs gently at your arm, pulling it forward and causing your head to droop. You allow him to pull you up and into an embrace. 
Scents of whiskey, soap and lemongrass once again fill your head. A lovely haze that you’ve come to cherish. A friend. 
A comfort. 
A beautiful melody fills the air, and swallows you whole. Umbra’s body shakes with a staticy old tune. 
“I’ll never smile again, until I smile at you”  The voices sing a beautiful sorrowful melody, filling the air. Umbra’s arms skate over you and places his hands in yours. 
The stance of a dance. 
Umbra guides your one arm over his back, there he rests the other around your waist. A close embrace that you happily welcome.
“For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize…” 
Guiding your hips in a gentle sway, you rest your cheek on his torso. The both of you sway to the melody slowly in your dimly lit room. 
And, like always, the shadow doesn’t say a word. And maybe you like it that way. With all the chaos pounding loudly in your head, Umbra can always grant you the safe space you need. No judgment, no games. 
No words. 
Umbra pulls you around in a dizzying spin on your toes, earning a giggle from you. The music crescendos softly.
“I’ll never love again, I’m so in love with you…”
Guiding you around your room, you follow his lead. Wisps of smoke trail after him and curl at the bottom of your feet. Warmth is all you can feel. 
You’re picked up swiftly and spun like a child before being placed softly in your bed. Umbra continues to play the melody until you are cast away in blissful sleep. 
“Within my heart, I know I will never start to smile again, until I smile at you.”
taglist : @hazbinsimp777 @rapturenyx @kaytemchugh
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st-el-la-luna · 1 month
Text
Task Force 141 x Reader: Picture Day
NSFW 18+
When a guy keeps sending you unsolicited pictures, you impulsively reach out to your Task Force for help in an... Unconventional way.
→ harassment, non con receiving of nudes, asking for nudes, sending of nudes
Tumblr media
You don't want to do this. Really, it's not ideal. It's rash, and impulsive and, oh, right, insanely fucking stupid.
But, you're a spiteful person at heart. And, well, this would be the perfect response...
So, you open the Task Force group chat, type up a message and press send before you can stop yourself.
CorvidCorporal: hey guys
CorvidCorporal: can I ask a favour?
You don't have to wait long for a reply.
Captain Price: What is it, Corporal?
Ghost: No
DontDropthe: you know where to find me 😉
Gazoline: everything okay?
You sigh, type up another message, worrying your lip between your teeth.
CorvidCorporal: it's nothing serious
CorvidCorporal: just... weird
Captain Price: What is it?
Gazoline: weird how?
You bury your face in your hands for a moment, considering if you're really about to do this. Your phone buzzes again, a notification from a different chat. You open it and holy shit, another one? Hell no. You're going through with this.
You head back to the Task Force group chat.
DontDropthe: weird is my specialty
You can't believe you're doing this.
You type and retype the message a couple of times before eventually just pressing send. You shut your phone off, face burning, not wanting to think about what you just did.
CorvidCorporal: I need a dick pic
The little markers on the bottom of the screen indicating people are typing vanish then start up again. Vanish. Start up again. Vanish.
Oh, you're fucked.
What the hell were you thinking?! These were your coworkers! Your superiors! Your boss!
You scramble to explain yourself.
CorvidCorporal: forget I said anything!
CorvidCorporal: it's just this guy keeps sending me them unsolicited from different accounts because I keep blocking his ass
CorvidCorporal: I figured the best way to get him to stop would be to send one back
CorvidCorporal: you know a real power move
CorvidCorporal: just really blindside em
CorvidCorporal: but well... I lack the parts and if I were just to go to google the guy could easily figure that shit out
CorvidCorporal: it was stupid and impulsive and I'm so sorry I asked
CorvidCorporal: please don't fire me I need this job
CorvidCorporal: guys?
The entire chat is dead. But their icons show that each and everyone of them is still active. Even Ghost.
You curse yourself internally and knock your head against the wall. You shut your phone off and toss it away. Too overwhelming. Too much. You can't... Why did you do that?!
You sit on the foot of your bunk and mourn your career, face in your hands. Dishonorable discharge no doubt in your future... You're such an idiot!
Your phone buzzes from across the room. You ignore it.
Except it buzzes again. And again. And again. And–
By the seventh text tone you go to pick it up, almost feeling sick from the nasty knot of anxiety and dread in your gut.
You open the group chat.
You close the group chat.
Holy shit.
DontDropthe: see attachment
DontDropthe: see attachment
DontDropthe: see attachment
Gazoline: jesus christ soap
Gazoline: see (2) attachments
DontDropthe: see (3) attachments
Fif– sixteen pictures. Two from Gaz and fourteen from Soap.
Holy shit.
Your phone goes off again.
Captain Price: Let me know if you need anything else, Corporal
Captain Price: see (3) attachments
What the fuck?
Soap has moved on to sending you pictures directly. You dismiss a call from him in a blind panic. He immediately sends a video.
You type into the group chat with shaking hands.
CorvidCorporal: thanks
Gazoline: anytime
DontDropthe: it's only fair if you send them back
DontDropthe: i understand if your shy
DontDropthe: my doors unlocked
Captain Price: *you're
In the end, you got more than enough material to choose from.
Three from Price. Seven from Gaz. A whopping twenty nine from Soap.
You're still deciding on what picture to send (and on calming your racing heart and ignoring the growing heat between your thighs) when your phone goes off again.
Ghost: see attachment
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sincerelyneo · 23 days
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promiscuous | l.jn
“i’m all yours, what you waiting for?”
💿now playing: promiscuous by nelly furtado, timbaland
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❯ summary: Jeno’s more turned on than angry he thinks - it’s not everyday he finds out his girlfriend used to be a stripper and now all he wants from you is a lap dance. Right now. In his car.
❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader
❯ genre: established relationship, smut
❯ words: 3.7k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, mentions of drinking, lap dancing, stripping, car sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), dirty talk, thigh riding, semi-public sex, hair pulling, mentions of groping and shitty men, karina is reader's bsf, reader uses she/her pronouns, just jeno being smitten and in awe over his stripper gf.
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“Did you see the look on his face when you said you had a boyfriend?” Karina chuckles from the backseat of Jeno’s car.
The joke isn't particularly funny, but it's the combination of alcohol buzzing through her system and the late hour that has her snickering and laughing as if she's a comedian. Jeno can’t help but crack a smile either, not because he finds her humorous; but because his heart swells with pride knowing you turned down another guy because you’re his girlfriend. 
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of saying that. 
“I know, he looked like he was about to piss his pants when he started apologising,” you add with your own cackle of laughter. “Priceless really, like a little dear in the headlights.”
Karina grins, leaning back into the middle seat. "I almost wanna feel bad for him, but then I remember he wouldn't take no for an answer until you mentioned Jeno."
You roll your eyes with a shake of your head, “That’s men for you.”
“Ugh! Tell me about it,” she rolls her eyes, “Men are so gross.”
Jeno looks through the rearview mirror and sees her scrunch her nose as a shiver runs through her body. “Hey now, I’m not gross.”
“Oh I know, Y/N tells us all about how cute the two of you are,” she sighs, “She’s managed to find one of the good ones, lucky bitch.”
You look over at Jeno when she says it, a smile on your face because she’s right. Lee Jeno’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. Just the right balance of sweet and smitten and passionate and protective. Even now, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently resting on your exposed thigh beneath your short dress, he had insisted on picking you up from the club even if it meant waiting up into the early hours of the morning. He just didn’t like the idea of you and your friend getting in a cab alone, drunk. Granted, you’re not that drunk, but Karina is. 
He is one of the good ones.
“You’ll find a good one too, Rina. You deserve it,” you assure her looking back to see her sitting with her arms folded across her chest. 
“Well wherever he is he needs to hurry up, honestly, I don’t know how much more I can take of shitty men chatting me up at the bar and trying to grope me. It’s nauseating.”
“They do that to you?” Jeno asks. You pull up to a red light and his eyes meet hers in the mirror.
“Sometimes,” she shrugs, “Honestly Y/N, I don’t know how you used to put up with it when you used to strip…” 
Karina's words trail off as she realises her mistake, her eyes widening in alarm. You go stiff in the passenger seat because you haven’t told Jeno about that. 
The jovial atmosphere in the car suddenly shifts, the air growing thick with tension as Karina's slip of the tongue hangs in the air like a heavy cloud. Jeno's grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. His eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, catching Karina's wide-eyed expression, and there’s a silent plea for forgiveness in her gaze.
Your heart pounds in your chest, and a rush of panic floods through you. For a moment, the only sound in the car is the dull hum of the engine and the distant echo of traffic outside. Jeno's jaw clenches, but it’s not out of anger, you’ve seen him angry and this isn’t it. If anything you haven’t ever seen him like this, expression unreadable, and you don’t know whether that’s worse.
"You... used to strip?" His voice finally cuts through the heavy silence. 
Your breath catches in your throat, as you struggle to find the right words to explain yourself. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. There’s a weight of guilt and fear pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.
Karina shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her earlier confidence replaced by a palpable sense of regret. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out for her either. Her gaze darts between Jeno and you with a mixture of guilt and apprehension.
The remainder of the car ride was suffocatingly silent until the car pulls up in front of Karina's building, the engine cutting off with a final sputter. She hesitates for a moment, her hand lingering on the door handle as she glances between you and Jeno, unsure of what to say.
Eventually, she opens the door and lets herself out, but not before standing at the passenger window to mouth a small and apologetic. "I’m sorry.”
You manage a weak smile and shake your head, mouthing back a simple, “It’s okay.”
She nods, and she stumbles her way up to her apartment. Jeno waits until she’s safe inside and the door closes behind her before he starts driving off again. You can’t help but shift uncomfortably in your seat, stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye. 
You can’t shake the feeling that he’s angry, furious even, at the revelation of your past. Guilt gnaws at your insides, twisting and turning as the car is quiet and his gaze stays fixed on the road ahead. 
You can’t bear the silence any longer, the weight of it pressing down on you. "Jeno, are you... mad?" you tread lightly, voice barely above a whisper.
Jeno's head snaps to the side until his eyes meet yours. They’re dark and intense but filled with more surprise than anger. And you’re caught off guard; because you could have sworn from the way he’s gripping the steering wheel, hard enough to cause a fire, he would have been at least a little annoyed.
A slow smirk starts to spread across his lips, gaze now burning and it sends shivers down your spine. "Mad?" he echoes, "No, Y/N... not mad."
A wave of confusion washes over you, your mind reeling at the unexpected response. But before you can process his words, he’s pulling over at some random side of the road to lean in close to your ear. His breath is hot, and he whispers, "Actually, I'm pretty turned on."
You move away from him, back hitting the car door, “Really? You’re not upset…?”
“Well…” he shrugs, “I’m upset that you didn’t tell me—”
“I didn’t want you to look down on me, or be embarrassed of me,” you cut him off, the urge to guard yourself getting the best of you.
Jeno sighs, and he notices the way your voice shakes as you defend yourself. He doesn’t understand why you’re even doing that – you don’t have to prove anything about yourself to him – he loves you as you are, past and future included. 
“You didn’t let me finish,” his fingertips grip your chin, “I’m upset I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me to tell me that.”
“I just didn’t want you to judge me is all,” you look down, voice going quiet. 
“That what you think I’d do?” He asks, planting a kiss on your cheek, and to his pleasure, it snaps your eyes up to him. “I’d never fucking judge you, baby, I already think you’re perfect… and I suppose knowing you used to strip is kind of a bonus.”
You laugh, shaking his hand from your chin, “Shut up.”
“I’m serious, do you know how hot it is knowing my girlfriend used to be a stripper?”
His tone is too calm for your liking. You had often imagined how Jeno might react about learning of your past as a stripper, and you don’t know why, but you had always prepared for him to be angry. You weren’t expecting this, him being so touchy and needy and – well – horny. 
“I’m serious, Y/N.” He scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip as he flicks a glance up to the roof of his car. When his eyes fall down to yours, they’re dangerous. “I’m getting hard just thinking about it.” 
You push at his chest playfully, “Stop it Jeno.” 
“Were you any good at it?” he asks tensely.
“We’re not doing this,” you laugh, shaking your head. 
He groans - it’s more of a whine. “Come on humour me, please baby.” 
You jut your jaw and roll your eyes. “Fine, I suppose I was pretty good.”
He lets out a dark huff of breath. Leaning back in his seat, he strokes his chin and runs a slow, all-seeing eye up your thigh and then over your chest. By the time it rests on your face, all of your nerve endings are on fire, lungs unable to keep up with your tense breaths.
“Show me.”
Your eyes widen, “What?” 
“Show. Me.” He repeats, expressionless.
There’s a chill that drifts through you. His face is completely void of humour, but there’s no way he can be serious…right? 
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you straighten your spine, mustering your best look of indifference as you fix him with a piercing stare. “We’re in public.”
“We’re in my car, and it’s dark.” 
You swallow, “You want me to strip here?” 
He nods. 
“There’s no room.”
He reaches down beside his seat, and with a soft touch, it reclines, creating a large space between his knees and the steering wheel. He always has an answer to everything. You let out a ragged breath, butterflies erupting in your stomach.
"Jeno, I can't just strip for you—" you begin, your voice trailing off as he interrupts you.
"Oh, so you'll strip for random men, but when I ask, it's a problem?" 
You bite the inside of your cheek, meeting his intense gaze. "You're serious?"
"Deadly.”
"Fine."
The click of your seatbelt echoes in the quiet car as you rise, sliding into the gap in front of him, facing the windshield. He lets out a low groan, his hand finding purchase on your waist, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.
As you slowly lower your body, the denim of his jeans rustles against the backs of your thighs. You shift your ass forward to his knees and arch your back. Your hands tremble, partially because you haven’t done this for years but also from the heat of his impatient gaze on your skin as you tease the straps of your dress down your shoulders.
With deliberate movements, you shift your hips, slowly, sensually. Your body sways in time to an invisible rhythm and you feel your lust and adrenaline rise.
His fingers glide along the contours of your back, and suddenly, an irresistible urge seizes you – to see the expression etched onto his face. It's a novel sensation, one that contrasts sharply with your previous experiences. In the past, when you danced, you avoided eye contact with patrons, but this is different; this is Jeno, your Jeno.
You decide to peer over your shoulder, and when you do you don't break eye contact with him. Taking a deep breath you slide the dress over your body, his gaze follows your every movement. From your ankles to the strip of your black underwear, his eyes trace your curves with a hunger that has your core setting a light. There is not a single trace of sweet Jeno left in his irises - the man looking back at you is hungry, needy.
Letting the fabric fall to the pedals, you lower yourself back onto his lap. The warmth of his thighs against your bare skin sends a delicious shiver down your spine, and you can't help but arch your back as you roll your hips, feeling the heat building between you. Soft fabric brushes over your clothed cunt and it makes your mouth water.
Holding onto the steering wheel, you arch your back and roll your ass into the direction of his groin. The guttural sound of his grunt is so animalistic it sends a shock of pleasure straight to your clit. You push further, sliding back until the tip of his swollen cock brushes against your ass. The realization of just how hard he is through his jeans sends a thrill coursing through your veins that triggers a wet heat to pool in your panties. 
Your heart pounds in your chest as you move, each roll of your hips driving you closer to the edge from the brush of his growing erection. His ragged breathing fills the car, and when his rough fingers slide beneath your panties, the snap of elastic meeting skin elicits a moan from your lips.
"Can't believe you'd wear panties like this, in that dress, when I wasn't there," he grunts, his voice thick with desire.
Gasping for air, you tilt your head back, your breaths coming in short gasps. "Shut up," you manage, but your voice still trembles with need.
He laughs, before returning his hands to your waist. "Turn around for me, baby. I want to see your face."
Too breathless to refuse, you rise on shaky legs and turn to face him. And when you meet his gaze, you're unprepared for the intensity you find there. It's a stare so intense it's almost violent, burning as it trails over your body over your thighs and stomach. You’ve had plenty of sex with Jeno and the way he studies your body so carefully will never not leave you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
“Prettiest fucking girl in the world,” he mutters the words more to himself than to you, but still, you shudder beneath the weight of them.
You grip the back of his headrest and slowly lower yourself onto his lap. Jeno leans forward to meet you. His hands, hot and greedy, slide behind your back to steady you. A smile tugs on your lips as you roll your hips against his throbbing cock just enough to wake up your clit — not that you needed to. Then, his fingers slide underneath the band of your bra and he looks up at you through his thick lashes. 
The snap as he drags his thumb out from underneath the band sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, and you can't help but arch your back in response. His eyes roam over your body, tracing the line of your throat before settling on your lips.
"I want to take this off," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.
"That's not how lap dances work, silly," you giggle, a smile playing on your lips.
Another animalistic groan comes from him forcing your pussy to clench around nothing. Your fingers dig into his headrest, and his raspy breaths tickle the dip of your chest. You rake your teeth over your bottom lip as his fingers find the base of your hair to yank your head back.
"You take it off then," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "I just want it gone. Now."
With a mischievous grin, you slide your bra off, tossing it in his direction. As it lands on his face, you see a slow breath escape his parted lips, tension tightening the line of his shoulders as his hungry eyes take in the sight of your bare breasts. His eyes trail over your curves, the hunger in his gaze almost palpable as he flexes his biceps, adjusting his hands behind his head.
"Don’t let me stop you," he murmurs cockily.
Your pussy throbs with anticipation as you lean back, gripping his knees as you rock your hips forward once more. One particularly hard roll of your hips elicits a moan from deep within you, the friction building with every movement.
"You're so wet, baby. I can see you soaking through your panties," he whispers
Flustered, you whimper in response, his gaze sliding down to where your panties meet his jeans.
"Can I pull them to the side?" 
You're too lost in the moment to argue, too caught up in the pleasure and the heat between your thighs. So you nod, permitting him to slide your panties to the side as you grind hopelessly against his leg. Your body is flush and sweaty yearning for him, craving more pressure every time your clit brushes against his bulge. 
“Fuck,” he whispers close to your ear. 
Your hands slide between his bent elbows and your fingers lock behind his headrest; allowing you to have a better position to grind down on his body with even more fervour.
“You’re gonna cum on my thigh aren’t you?”
You're consumed by heat and desire, completely hot and desperate, and the windshield is now fully fogged up as a result. Lost in the throes of pleasure, you're unable to respond to him, but words are unnecessary. He can see the way your eyes clench shut with each roll of your hips, an expression of pure ecstasy. It's all the encouragement he needs to take action, flexing his thigh beneath you.
The sensation overwhelms you, causing you to buckle under the pressure against your clit. Unable to contain yourself, you sink your teeth into Jeno's bicep and he hisses. But you can't help it because waves of pleasure wash over you as you ride out the orgasm that courses through your body.
After what feels like an eternity of bliss, your high begins to ebb, and you find yourself melting into his chest, spent and content.
It's only when the intensity of your climax subsides that you snap back to reality. Neither one of you has moved – you’re just attached to eachother, panting heavily that you might as well share the same breath.  The sensation of Jeno’s cock poking your ass is still tangible, and even though you are practically exhausted from the intensity of the orgasm he just gave you, you figure it’s only fair to return the favour.
Your gaze remains fixed on his as you reach down to fumble with the buckle of his jeans. He offers no assistance, his eyes entirely focused on you. After all, this is your show, and you get to call the shots. 
You free his cock from his boxers, skipping the rest of his clothes in your eagerness to please him. His hands find your waist as yours find his shoulders, and you revel in the satisfaction of his eyes fluttering shut as you sink down onto the entirety of his length. 
He hisses in pleasure, unable to resist a teasing remark. "You know, for someone who was so hesitant to strip in public, you sure don't mind taking my cock in public."
"It's dark, and we're in your car," you retort, satisfied with your quick comeback. 
But before you can say more, he thrusts his hips, driving his cock deep inside you, where he belongs.
You feel every edge of him as he pounds into you, knotting your stomach and causing you to tighten your grip on his shoulder. The force of his thrusts threatens to push you back against the steering wheel, but you manage to hold on, whining in pleasure as he mutters curses under his breath.
"You always feel so good for me, baby," he coaxes, his hand tangling in your hair and pulling it back to expose your neck.
You hum in agreement, shamelessly lost in pleasure as he peppers your skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses. You pant like there is no oxygen left in the car as his thrusts become sharper and more reckless.
“Fuck Jeno.” 
You gasp, feeling his grip on your waist tighten in sync with the coil of pleasure in your stomach. He pushes you down to nuzzle into his neck, eliciting a cry from you at the angle. He takes your hands from his shoulders and locks them behind your back, giving him full control to drive every inch of him deep inside your pussy.
“Shit..” you whimper into his neck. You can feel his lips against your jaw, nicking it with his teeth. 
“Take it, baby.”
The restriction of your hands paired with his powerful thrusts have you completely submissive to him - which is funny considering you were supposed to be putting on a show for him. He uses his hold on your arms to pull you back and forces you to look at him. 
“Wanna see your face when you cum pretty girl.”
He knows your body so well because you’re at the beginning of your second round of bliss. His forehead falls lazily to your collarbone as he kisses the skin, sending trembles down your body and causing your mouth to fall open as you meet the edge. 
And your whimpers only spur Jeno on, as he rocks you through your orgasm, his own release not far behind. He shakily moans out your name with heavy breaths, his pace staggering as you both climax together. Both your stomachs jitter from the stimulation and your chests huff until your bodies shake with the intensity of the pleasure.
As you come down from your high, you feel Jeno's final thrusts, his eyes squeezed shut and sweat glistening on his brow. The collar of his shirt is damp with exertion, and his tongue pokes out at the side of his mouth as he catches his breath.
You’re like a limp puddle too, but Jeno stays clung to you, your sweaty bodies tangled in one other. Then, you slip off of him and drop into the passenger seat, tugging on your bra and dress that were previously disregarded on the car’s floor.
Jeno fixes his jeans as you dress. Then he starts toying with the car’s keys and revs the engine. As the car comes to life, the headlights glow yellow and the radio picks up. His warm, firm hand finds your thigh as you fasten your seat belt and glance up at him.
"From now on, every time we have sex, you owe me a lap dance."
 "Shut up," you say with a scoff of laughter.
“I'm serious," he insists, " We gotta make up for lost time since you kept the fact you're a sexy ass stripper hidden from me."
1K notes · View notes
upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.4K] request from anon: what about Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before? 
“Sloppy?” Steve grimaced, smiling through your word choice despite the disappointment he felt for you. 
You shrugged, nose crinkled as you remembered. “Yeah. Wet, y’know? And not like— it was just too much…tongue.”
There was a silence, a sad kind that filled the room. Steve wasn’t sure what to say. You kind of regretted telling the boy. So you sighed and shrugged it off again, biting the head off of red Sour Patch Kid.
“Maybe I just don’t like making out,” you sounded defeated and Steve hated it, frowning as he watched you chew your candy mournfully, your back pressed to the side of his unmade bed. “That’s normal, right? Like, some people just don’t like things like that and—”
“Hey, hey,” Steve knocked his foot against yours, legs stretched out across his bedroom floor. The pack of playing cards had been abandoned beside some unopened twizzlers and Steve’s can of cherry soda. “Look, of course that’s normal. And— and if that’s how you feel, that’s totally okay, alright?”
The boy hesitated, worried his bottom lip between his teeth and wondered if he should keep talking. You watched him, brows raised expectantly. 
“I just think—” Steve cleared his throat, his pointer finger dragging patterned across his carpet. He shrugged, all faux nonchalance. He didn’t want to sound like a creep, not to his best friend. Not to you. “I just think that maybe you’ve not had a good kiss, y’know?”
You didn’t answer, not right away. And Steve didn’t try and backtrack, or explain himself, he just waited, watching you think. His bedroom window was open, the sounds of the early evening slipping through. Someone’s backyard pool filter, their sprinklers out the front, the quiet spin of a kids bike going down the sidewalk.  
You didn’t look at Steve when you finally asked, “well, what is a good kiss?”
You felt stupid, asking such a thing at your age but maybe you’d grown up picking all the wrong kinds of guys. Impatient boys, greedy boys, selfish boys. Boys who turned into men who didn’t have the time of day to take it slow with a girl like you. Boys who thought they were men, who used too much teeth and tongue and pressure and tasted like cheap party beer and the leftover smoke of their cigarette. 
Guys who got too handsy too quick, guys who didn’t care that when they pulled away from your lips, you swiped the back of your hand over your mouth and tried not to frown. 
Steve shifted a little, cheeks turning pink as his eyes found yours. “Well,” he gestured at you, awkward. His gaze settled on your lips before he blinked and looked away. “I mean, it helps when you really like the person, y’know? The uh, the chemistry of it all.”
You swallowed, throat feeling tight, chest feeling too warm. You remember Nancy talking about those kinds of feelings when she first kissed Jonathan, a dopey, soft smile on her lips as she recounted it, telling you of the buzz under her skin, the flips that her stomach did when he leaned in to meet her, eyes closing. 
“Sure,” you agreed. You don’t think you’d ever felt that way about the boys you had kissed. “Right.”  
“But I guess you’re supposed to take your time with it? I mean, at first, when you’re getting to know someone.” Steve smiled, soft, reassuring. His knee knocked yours. “You find out what they like.”
“What they like?” You asked, voice cracking a little. You didn’t know where to look, what to do with your hands. You picked up a green sour patch and bit its leg. “What does that mean?”
Steve looked bashful, miles apart from the boy you’d know in high school, with a girl on his arm in the hallways, a different one in his lap at a party that weekend. 
“I’d, uh, I mean— person A would go slow with person B, right? They’d start soft. Gentle, I guess? You gotta— they’d have to figure out how the other person likes to be kissed. Not everyone shoves their tongue down your throat, y’know.”
You huffed out a laugh but it sounded weak, too breathy. You wanted the boy to keep talking, you wanted to watch his pink cheeks and his pretty eyes dart across your face, like he was searching for something. 
You wondered if he’d find it. 
“Not everyone?” You whispered. 
“No,” Steve shook his head, his smile wry. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and he was closer now, closer than before and you could smell his cologne, the cherry soda fizz that hung in the air along with Mr Jackson’s freshly mown grass. “No, no, not everyone. I’d give the girl a peck at first, yeah? Just something PG-13. Then, when she relaxes and you know, she moves closer, kisses me back, I’d—”
Steve broke off, blinking like he was getting rid of something hazy. He’d been looking at you as he spoke, words coming too easy, the air between you both warm despite the setting sun. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous, awkward again, a bashful thing that made him suddenly even more endearing than you thought he ever could be. 
“You’d what, Steve?” You blinked, feeling warm, wondering if the boy could tell. You didn’t know what to do so you moved, leaning forward until you could fold your legs underneath yourself and your thigh bumped Steve’s shin. “You’d what?”
Steve’s eyes searched yours, his gaze falling to your lips and back again. You thought he found it then, that thing he seemed to be looking for. Because he cleared his throat and let one hand fall to the carpet between you, his fingers brushing over your socked toes and you almost jumped at the contact. 
The silence was too loud now. 
“I could show you, if you wanted.”
Someone’s lawn mower started up a few yards over, white noise buzzing in the distance as you tried to take in what Steve had just said. He was watching you, head tilted to the side, cheeks still rosy and when you looked at him carefully, you could see the barely concealed panic in his brown eyes. 
He pressed his lips together and tried to smile, tight and nervous and he was picking at the carpet, fingers fidgeting as you sat there dumbly. You heard the shake in his voice when he tried to say, “I am—,” he choked on his words, panicked. “—so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Steve,” you stopped the boy with a hand on his shin, your warm palm against the denim. “We’re friends, right?”
The word seemed to burn on your tongue, like it tasted like a lie, like it was as dangerous as one. You waited, breath held, wondering if you wanted Steve to agree or not. 
“Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly so serious. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course we are.” He worried at his bottom lip again, looking at your own. “Best friends.”
You nodded, tongue feeling too big for your mouth to speak. Words felt clumsy, your skin too warm. Buzzing. Fizzing. You weren’t sure if it was you or the air. 
“Show me.”
You thought Steve would maybe hesitate, maybe he’d back out or shout, ‘got you!’ like those prank shows Dustin liked to watch. You thought he’d maybe lay down some rules, maybe he’d tell you how this didn’t mean anything and really, he was only doing his sad friend a favour. 
He didn’t do any of that. In fact he didn’t say anything else at all. Steve just let out a breath and nodded once, almost to himself before he let his hand curl around the back of your calf and he tugged, gentle. 
He lifted his chin, a casual ‘c’mere’ that had your heart thundering and you wondered if this confidence, this way of acting so sure of himself, was how he got all the girls. 
A quiet sort of assertiveness that made your stomach flip inside out. 
You unfurled yourself from your sitting position, shuffling to your knees as you moved across Steve’s bedroom floor, bare shins burning against the carpet. You leaned back on your heels, brought yourself down to Steve’s level where he sat against his wall, legs stretched out before him. 
He didn’t warn you when he brought his hand to your face, fingers cupping your cheek and his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth and you were suddenly left wondering when Steve’s hands had gotten so big. You’d watched him grow, from a middle school kid to king Steve the senior. You’d seen the new muscles, the height, the hair. You’d never noticed his hands before but now they were on you, it’s all you could think about.
Dizzy. You felt dizzy. 
“Okay?” Was all he asked, voice softer and quieter now he was so much closer. 
You nodded, face too warm and licking across your bottom lip like a reflex. You weren’t sure where to look. Or where to put your hands. Most kisses you’d shared had happened in the crowds at parties or in the front seat of a boy’s car after a date. You usually lay your palms on their shoulders, holding on and wondering if every boy took these opportunities to grope your ass like a pile of dough. 
“We can stop,” Steve told you. He looked nervous and if anything, it made you feel more anxious than ever. “Whenever you want, ‘kay?” 
You nodded again, unable to really speak, too scared that your voice would crack or something equally stupid would happen. And maybe Steve knew this, maybe he knew you so much better than you ever thought he would, because he smiled and nodded too. 
“Okay,” he announced, quiet and soft and he was moving closer, noses bumping, his eyes fluttering shut. “Here goes.”
“Wait.”
Steve paused, gaze back on your own and he looked concerned, he looked worried and before he could ask you what was wrong you were sucking in a panicked breath and asking: “what if I’m the bad kisser?”
“What?” Steve let out a laugh, breathy and disbelieving and he was still so close, his hand on your jaw and his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the apple of your cheek. He was shaking his head, smiling, looking too pretty and suddenly this seemed like a monumental thing, something gargantuan. “No, there’s no way.”
You squirmed on the floor, shifting further and then closer and Steve loosened his hold on you but you didn’t go anywhere. You just blinked at him, pained with worry. “How could you know?”
Steve paused as he thought and you wondered if he had an answer, if he was going to say something truthful or he was simply thinking of something sweet to say to placate you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and seemed to search for that… thing, again. 
I— I just—” Steve didn’t say anything, he didn’t give you an explanation or a reason. 
He simply pressed his lips to yours. 
It was chaste and sweet and entirely innocent, lips closed and nothing close to scandalous. But then he parted from you just a breath, looking at you from heavy lidded eyes, watching you from beneath his lashes. And when you didn’t move, you didn’t panic, Steve leaned in again, kissing you the same way until he nudged your chin up with his hand and his lips slotted between your own. 
He moved slowly, carefully, with a practised ease that made your toes curl and it was still sweet, it made your tummy warm and your head spin and Steve’s lips were soft, tasting like cherry soda and sugar. 
You caught up after a beat or two, your hand that wasn’t braced on the floor reaching up to cling to where you could reach. Your fingers found the collar of Steve’s t-shirt, fisting the soft material and doing everything to make sure he didn’t move away. You moved with him, lips meeting and parting over and over until Steve sucked in a breath and tilted his head to the other side, pressing closer, a little deeper. 
After another soft peck, he pulled away, eyes still closed and his thumb on your chin as he whispered, voice hoarse. “See? Nothin’ to worry about.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, pressed his fingers under your jaw. “And now, a guy should be testing the waters, right?”
“They should?” You whispered back. Your eyes were still closed too, your fingers sneaking up past Steve’s collar to stroke at the skin at the base of his throat, experimental, adventurous. “How’d they do that?”
You were sure you felt the boy smile, sensed it. A warm breath across your lips as he moved closer again. “Like this—” 
Another kiss, the same as before, once, twice and then Steve was parting his mouth over your own and letting the tip of his tongue lick over your bottom lip. It was a fleeting touch, a zap, a buzz, a tingle down your spine and you gasped without thinking about it, lips parting for the boy and you followed suit, tongue moving past Steve’s lips to meet his own. 
He groaned then, a vibration against you, his hand skating back from your cheek to thread into your hair and he let his tongue move over your own, lips clicking every time they parted. It was slower than you’d been kissed before, something sensual about it despite being sat on your best friend’s bedroom floor and it made your insides somersault, the skin where Steve slouched burning. 
“Told you,” he murmured, breath heavy as he spoke. “Nothing to worry about,” he repeated and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, face blazing with heat, Steve was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do with himself. 
“Mhmm,” you agreed, barely listening, eyes still on the boy’s mouth, fingering the collar of his shirt, not ready to let go yet. “You must be a good teacher, or something.”
Steve looked distracted, Adam’s apple bobbing, gaze on your lips too. You weren’t sure he had stopped looking at them. “Yeah, yeah. Or something.” He swallowed, throat tight. “Do you wanna stop? Or—?”
“No,” you said, maybe too quickly. “Do you?”
“God, no,” Steve agreed just as fast. “You can keep going— just— what do you want…?”
Steve’s words died on his lips as you moved suddenly, rising to your knees only to push Steve back to the wall. His hands fell to his sides, hovering in mid air as he stared, watching as you swung a leg over his knees and sat carefully on his lap. You were cautious, more on his thighs that closer to anything else but you tried to breathe evenly as you took in the position. 
“Okay?” You asked him, voice caught sticky in your throat with nerves but Steve nodded, head bobbing hurriedly. You sucked in a breath, smoothing your hands over Steve’s shoulders before you did as he had, smoothing them up the sides of his neck and holding his jaw carefully. “What do I do now?”
‘Whatever you want,’ Steve wanted to beg. But apparently this was a lesson of sorts and he  had something to teach you. So he cleared his throat to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack and held your hips, hands gentle and polite. “You, uh, you find out what I like.”
You nails scratched at the back of his neck, unconsciously. You licked your lips. “How do I do that?”
Steve’s hands flexed on your hips, climbing to your waist, holding you a little tighter. Something seemed to shift then, his eyes lighting up. He looked like he was ready to fight, like you’d asked him if he were up for a challenge. It made you grin. 
“Kiss me.”
 So you did. 
You did as Steve had at the start, kissing him soft and slow and chaste, pulling away before he could catch you, teasing, nose bumping his and breaths mixing, cherry soda to fizzy candy. And just before Steve was about to groan, frustrated, you shifted closer, chest pressed to his and you parted your lips, catching his bottom lip between your own. 
It was a greedier kiss and Steve let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk, opening his mouth for you, nails digging into your sides when you licked over his tongue, exploratory, gentle. You felt him nod, the tip of his nose smushed to your cheek and you smiled, amused at his praise. 
“Like that?” You asked, breathless, barley parting from him to speak. 
“Yeah, like that,” Steve agreed, sounding just as wrecked. “Keep going, please.”
He didn’t have to ask again. Fuck, he didn’t even have to ask as nicely as he did because you were back on him in a heartbeat, kissing your best friend like you didn’t want him to remember anyone else. 
“Slower,” he whispered, muttering instructions against your mouth and you didn’t feel scolded, you didn’t feel embarrassed you just followed Steve’s instructions, pulling back slightly to kiss him softer, lips moving with his slower, slower, slower. 
You heard him groan, felt his chest rumble and his hands squeeze at you in silent praise and you knew then he liked it like that, liked to be teased. You nosed at his cheek, did as he had done and pushed your thumb under his jaw to bring his mouth up to yours, his head tipping back, back, back. You pecked over his cheeks then, over the bridge of his nose and at the corner of his lips until he was panting, waiting for you. 
“Yeah?” Was all you asked. 
“Yeah,” he hummed, feeling like he was vibrating. He let his eyes shutter closed, waiting for your next touch. “Yeah.”
You felt bolder, brazen, pushing your lips back to Steve’s and when you pulled away this time, you nipped at the boy’s bottom lip, pulling at it gently with your teeth and until it popped softly back into place and Steve swore, he cursed, he grunted and his hips shifted under yours. 
“You like that,” you noted with a smile and it wasn’t a question. 
Steve didn’t speak, he couldn’t. Instead he stared up at you and nodded, dazed, throat bobbing as he swallowed tightly and tried to get himself under control. 
You moved into each other again without discussion, an unconscious need that didn’t need a conversation. Your hands went to his hair, holding onto the messy ends at the nape of his neck as his travelled the expanse of your back, fingertips lifting the hem of your shirt every downstroke, his skin on yours. It was enough for you to make soft noises against him, nudging closer and Steve helped, his hands pulling at your waist until your chest pressed against his and were seated over his crotch. 
You felt him then, hard and pressed underneath his jeans and it made you kiss him like you had something to prove, mouths moving together, open and panting, tongues touching teasingly, teeth grazing against lips to try and make the other moan louder. 
And when Steve’s garage door opened, a groaning, grating sound below his window, it was an interruption that told you both his father had arrived home. 
You slid from his lap, chest heaving and eyes heavy on Steve’s pink cheeks. His lips were shiny from your work, his hands leaving your waist at the very last second, your butt hitting his carpet rather ungracefully as you backed away, suddenly so aware of the line that had been crossed. 
You were burning still, an ache between your legs that hadn’t quite been satisfied and your lips buzzed from Steve’s kisses, the slow, careful way he’d pressed his to your own. He’d paid attention, you realised, picked up on every noise you made, every shift against him, the way you kissed him back eagerly when he did something you liked. And you’d done the same, taking in his gasps and sighs, stomach flipping when his hips bucked and his chest moved a little quicker than before. 
Your fingers touched your bottom lip before you pressed the back of your hand to it, as if to hide the evidence. Steve was still staring at you, panting, doing nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his jeans. 
And when his front door opened and closed and you could hear his fathers footsteps lead into his office, Steve stayed quiet. Only when the sound of the door clicking shut filled the silent house did he smile, boyish and all charm.
“See?” He reminded you, cheeks still burning. His hair was a mess from where you’d pulled on it. He looked rumpled, undone at the seams. “Told you, you weren’t a bad kisser.”
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rinneverse · 3 months
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࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 — 𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆. ˒ ⊹
syn. you think jealousy is a good look on aventurine. too bad he has to remind you that you belong to him, and him only. (1.8k) pair. aventurine x f!reader cw. jealous aventurine my beloved / fem-aligned reader / pet names used: pretty girl, doll, angel, princess, good girl / oral (f!receiving) / fingering / teasing and begging / prone bone / spanking (like.. one time) / p in v penetration / creampie / multiple rounds are insinuated. teehee. love, oak! loooorrrrrdddddd aventurine. i've been obsessed w him since he was mentioned in topaz's quest ♡. about to start the penacony quest now, i'm literally buzzing w/ excitement over seeing him!!!!!!!
MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.
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aventurine thinks he can be a little bit... petty, sometimes.
but of course, who wouldn't be, when one sees some random stranger putting their hands all over what's theirs?
so obviously, aventurine does the one thing he does best.
put on a show.
"hey, pretty girl," aventurine drawls, sidling up to you as he slides an arm around your waist. the grip he has on your hip is near-bruising, the only indication that he was currently ticked off. "you tired of this bar yet? i'd like to leave soon." his voice is a soft croon as he brings his lips to your ear, warm breath brushing the sensitive skin there. "i've got better things for us to be doin' in mind."
you gasp, playfully slapping his chest. your attention is completely off the man you were just chatting up, and aventurine shoots him a lazy grin. the man merely grumbles and leaves.
it makes him feel pure satisfaction, really.
aventurine turns you in his grip so that you're chest to chest with him—forces you to tilt your head back to look up at him. he smiles prettily down at you, as if he weren't just scheming to whisk you away from all the attention you were just receiving.
"better things, huh?" you say, glossy lips forming a matching grin to his as you look up at the blond. "like what? that man was just about to buy me a drink, you know. how're you gonna make up for that?"
he nearly lets his perfect mask slip—a twitch of his eyebrow is all you notice. but he tilts his head, looks down at you with those pretty lavender eyes of his.
"oh doll, if you wanted a drink, why didn't you just say so?"
your eyes gleam with mischief. you trail your fingers up his chest, your lips pursing in a pout.
"it's more fun charming a guy into buying it.." you sigh dramatically.
"who says you haven't charmed me?"
"no one. everyone knows i've already got you wrapped around my finger."
he can't argue with that. no, he can't argue with the irrefutable truth.
because you do. he's wrapped around your pretty little finger, and you know it. you exploit it. he doesn't mind, though.
aventurine doesn't deal with what doesn't pay off. and in the end, a pretty thing like you always does.
so he smiles again, tilting your chin up with a gloved finger. he lets a little bit of the hunger he feels shine in his eyes—he basks in the way your eyes shutter, your red-painted lips parting slightly.
“how about this, then—will you let me charm you, pretty?” he purrs, thumb coming up to gently tug at your bottom lip.
your throat bobs as you swallow. a shallow nod of your head follows—as much as he’ll allow while he grips your chin.
“good. you know how great i am at making your dreams come true, don’t you?”
there’s no room for debate there, nor does he give you any; aventurine’s smug demeanor is never undeserved, if the way he has you grasping the sheets of his bed later is concrete proof of that.
“’venturine,” you whine, back arching off the ruffled white sheets of the bed, “please, need you inside me, noooow.” the last word comes out in a long moan as his fingers stroke just the right spot inside of you. a flick of his tongue against your puffy clit draws a cry of pleasure from your lips.
he hasn’t even taken his clothes off yet, and he already has you a mewling mess for him. again, he feels that familiar sense of satisfaction flow through him.
aeons. he loved seeing you so debauched, flushed and squirming beneath him as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you.
“c’mon angel, one more time for me—you can do it, can’t you?”
the low drawl of his voice is drowned out by the lewd squelch of his fingers inside you, constantly moving and stroking your walls in just the way you liked it. at this rate, you were going to go insane, but you feel your climax cresting, rising up and up and up, until it comes crashing down with a particular crook of his fingers inside you. he doesn’t let up, doesn’t grant you any mercy as you sob and convulse with pleasure. “’venturineee!”
finally, finally, he stops, withdrawing his fingers (his sleeve is completely soaked with your essence, he notes smugly) and rising after a swift kiss to your sweet pussy. you lay there, a puddle of nerves still buzzing with pleasure.
the clink of his belt and the rustle of fabric falling to the floor, and then you’re being maneuvered so gently, rolled onto your front with large, gentle hands. there’s a pillow being slid under your hips, another for your pretty head, and then you feel the bed dip with the weight of aventurine settling into place right behind you.
you let out a soft cry as you feel the blunt head of his cock rub against your still too sensitive cunt, his hands gripping the plush globes of your ass as he spreads you for him. he loves the little sounds you make as he teases you, dipping the tip in but never quite going any farther than that.
no, he wanted to hear you beg for it.
“what do we say when we want something, princess?” aventurine hums, drawing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, achingly slow.
“oh,” you sigh sweetly. “need you to fuck me. please, ‘ven, need it so bad.”
your plea is like sugared candy on his tongue, a torturous substance he’s addicted to as he allows himself to slowly sink inside you. he takes his time—you’re whining and squirming beneath him, and he has to hold you still with firm hands—but only goes as far as an inch, shallowly moving his hips.
“like that?” he asks coyly.
you look over your shoulder to glare at him. at the nasty look you shoot him, his eyes narrow; he lifts a hand, only to bring it down on the sensitive skin on your ass. you let out a yelp.
“now, now, only good girls get what they want. you’re a good girl, aren’t ya?”
you respond with a desperate whine. aventurine knows when you’re reaching your limit though, and like the good person he is, he’s decided he’s had enough fun torturing you. besides, he’s nearing his own limit—the walls of your cunt just feel so delicious around him—and it’s taking a willpower of steel to not pound you into oblivion right then and there.
aventurine sighs dramatically, hands drifting up your spine, ghosting along your back. he likes the way you shiver beneath him, completely helpless to his whims. he’s quiet for a moment, drinking in the way you’re breathing harshly beneath him as he lets himself dip a little further into you, and then: “alright, i’ve teased you enough. you’ve been so good for me.”
the words are like music to your ears—as well as the only warning you receive before he’s gripping your hips, lifting and adjusting you so he hits just the angle he knows you like, and he starts a brutal pace that rips a harsh moan from your lips.
he’s absolutely unforgiving in the way he fucks you, but he knows it’s just the way you like it. searing, molten heat flows through your veins with every stroke, nerves like lightning as you’re overwhelmed with the all-consuming sensation of aventurine all over you. it’s not just the way he fucks you—the way he presses his chest to your back as his hips rut into you, the way he has you completely pinned, rough hands spreading you oh-so perfectly for him, the way his lips press to the nape of your neck, his breath ghosting along your skin as he groans, right up in your ear.
“fuck—you’re so fucking tight, pretty—yeah, you like this, don’t you? can feel you clenchin’ around my cock.” he makes a point to thrust his hips especially rough at the end of each sentence, coaxing a long, desperate moan from you. you’re mindlessly babbling at this point, barely able to form a coherent sentence as he fucks all sense of sanity from your head.
and when he snakes a hand around you, brushing down your navel towards the apex of your thighs, you let out a broken sob as deft fingers find your clit. paired with each perfectly aimed thrust, you’re coming undone beneath him in a matter of seconds, walls convulsing around him.
“where do you want me, angel?” aventurine coos in your ear. his voice is raspy, lust-drunk and breathy as he struggles to hold himself together, to stave off the orgasm he knows is imminent.
“inside,” you gasp out. “wan’ it inside!” your words slur together as he fucks you through your own orgasm. you feel electric as his hips start to stutter, your only other hint that aventurine is close, so so close, and you want him falling with you. so you clench the delicate muscles in your pelvis, walls fluttering around his cock so perfectly, it feels like life and death and infinity and oblivion all at once.
he presses deep inside you, holding you so tight to him as he cums, hard, just the way you wanted him to. you clutch the pillow under your head to ground yourself, muffling the moan you let out as his hips twitch and then eventually pull away, drawing himself out of you. the sensation makes you hiss softly, displeased at the empty feeling he leaves you with.
aventurine smiles at the sight—of you, blissfully fucked out on his bed, hips still slightly raised from the pillow as his cum drips out of you. it might’ve been obscene to some, but he was so utterly fucking obsessed with you that really, it’s got him ready to go for another round.
he only gives you a moment to catch your breath.
then you’re being flipped over, aventurine slotting himself between your legs, his already hard cock pressing against your messy cunt. he smiles down at you, a purely predatory look in his eyes as his gaze meets yours.
“don’t tell me you’re tired out already, princess,” he drawls, basking in the way your sleepy eyes widen with shock. “you’ve gotta cum at least a couple more times before i’m satisfied. i’m gonna make sure my name is the only one you remember, ‘kay?”
and as he slides into you, torturously slow, you realize that you might just be in for a long night.
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please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
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augustinewrites · 8 months
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once shoko opens her door, you offer her a half-hearted smile and hold up your bottle of wine. if there’s one person you can count on to help drink your feelings away, it’s—
“i actually can’t tonight,” she sighs. “i have an exam tomorrow and i already had a few drinks so…”
“wait, shoko—” you catch the edge of the door, sighing as you admit, “i think satoru is cheating on me.” 
she pauses for a second, as if checking to see if you’re serious. 
then, “you open that up. i’ll get the glasses.” 
“thanks,” you grin, following her inside. 
“do you need anything else?” she calls from the kitchen. “a hug? baseball bat? an alibi?”
“no need for glasses, and we don’t need the other stuff…yet,” you grimace, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a swig, kicking the door shut behind you. “and i don’t know for sure that he’s cheating, but he’s just been so weird lately.” 
“weird how?” your friend asks, pushing aside the textbooks she has open on the couch cushions before gesturing for the bottle. “it’s gojo, you’ve gotta be more specific.”
you hand her the tequila, shaking your head. “it was small things at first. showing up late for dates or just cancelling them. not telling me where he’s been all day. then last night i saw this text on his phone…”
shoko’s brows raise. “you were looking at his messages?”
“no!” you exclaim. then, when your best friend sends you a look, “okay, i didn’t mean to! he left his phone on the nightstand while he was in the shower and i looked at it when it buzzed with a text from someone named megumi.”
“oh,” shoko realizes, eyes widening. “that’s a girl’s name.” 
you both sit in silence for a moment, passing the bottle back and forth. your phone buzzes a few times in your pocket - undoubtedly satoru asking why you’ve been avoiding him all day - but you ignore it.
“let’s confront him,” shoko proposes once you’re halfway through the bottle. “find out once and for all.”
“okay!” by now, you’re buzzed enough to think this is a brilliant idea, standing on unsteady legs as shoko calls for a cab. 
_____
“hey,” your boyfriend smiles weakly once he opens the door. “wait, what’s shoko doing—”
“where is she?” she asks, pushing past the both of you to walk into his apartment. she begins flipping up couch cushions and checking behind curtains. 
“what’s going on?” satoru asks, letting you push him inside. he looks down at you, concern clouding his expression. “what’s she talking about?”
you’re not sure if it’s liquid courage or frustration that causes you to blurt, “are you cheating on me?”
“what? of course not—”
“then who’s megumi?”
“he is toji’s six year son!”
your eyes widen. shoko freezes, halfway through opening a cabinet. 
toji…had a son? “so he’s a— a—”
“he’s a zen’in,” your boyfriend confirms. it’s as if all the air leaves your lungs when he says that, catching in your throat. “his mom passed, and after toji…i couldn’t just leave him alone. apparently toji made some deal to sell the kid to the zen’in clan, and i didn’t want…so i filed for guardianship.”
“guardianship,” you echo. “you’re planning to raise the kid on your own?
“his sister too.” 
“i’m gonna go get a cab home. let you two talk,” shoko laughs nervously, speeding out the door. 
satoru walks over to the couch once she’s gone, sitting the edge and hiding his face in his hands. “i’d get it, you know.”
“get what?” you ask, sitting next to him.
“you didn’t sign up for this,” he sighs. “taking in two kids— it’s a lot. but i couldn’t do nothing. he’s going to need someone to help him. teach him. care about him. so he doesn’t end up like…”
he doesn’t finish his sentence. you don’t make him. even after a few years, the heartache of losing your friend causes a dull ache in your chest. 
though…he’s right that you didn’t sign up for any of this. kids were the furthest thing from your mind at this stage of your life, not to mention this stage of your relationship. 
but if satoru, who is barely an adult himself, can find it in his heart to do what you know in your mind is the right thing…
“then i guess it’ll make the next few years of our lives pretty exciting,” you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. 
“our lives?” he repeats, sounding shocked. “you’re…staying?”
you draw back to meet his pensive gaze, though it melts away when you offer him a small smile. you see him in this moment. 
so you cup his face in your hands, thumb softly stroking his cheek. “you didn’t think i would want to stay?”
“i hoped,” he murmurs, lips brushing against the inside of your wrist. “but i didn’t know for sure.”
“well, i’m not going anywhere,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. “even if you’re a monumental pain in my ass.”
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slayfics · 5 months
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Late night texting with Eijiro.
Warnings: Eijiro aged up | NSFW themes
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Eijiro tossed and turned in bed unable to drift to sleep with the memories of today's spar plaguing his mind. He had been rougher with you than he intended to today and he couldn't help but feel guilty.
Giving in to his worry Eijiro grabbed his phone and decided to message you.
Hey, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about today's spar. I didn't intend to be so rough. I hope you're alright.
You responded to him almost right away,
Kirishima it's late you should be asleep!
I couldn't help it! I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.
I'm fine, no need to worry. Look, it isn't even that bad.
You texted and sent over a picture of your injuries from the spar. Eijiro felt his breath catch in his throat as soon as his eyes focused on the image.
You were lying in bed and had pulled your shirt up to show the injuries to your abdomen left from the spar.
He knew you were just trying to ease his mind by showing him the injuries weren't anything to worry about, but he couldn't help his mouth from falling open and his cheeks warmed by an excited blush.
The image showcased your body so perfectly lying delicately in bed. Eijiro couldn't look away from it as badly as he wanted to. This isn't manly at all. He thought as he found himself excited by a picture of your bruised body. Even still knowing it was wrong, his grip tightened on his phone and his heart rate increased the longer he stared.
Just as his hormones shot him nefarious thoughts causing his member to enlarge, you messaged him again.
Hello? You fall asleep on me Kiri?
Fuck, he typed out a response fast.
I'm still up! I guess it's not too bad, but I'm still sorry!
Stop apologizing! Besides, I got you pretty good too right?
Yeah, you did! You did amazing today!
Alright, let's see it then!
Eijiro felt himself freeze for a second time tonight. You- You wanted a picture of him? Eijiro shook all crude thoughts out of his mind. Don't be a perv, he told himself. You were just wanting to make sure his injuries weren't bad.
Eijiro must have been contemplating the meaning of your request for longer than he thought because you texted him again.
Unless you feel uncomfortable then it's totally fine you don't have to!
No no, it's fine! Give me a second!
Eijiro jumped out of bed panicking. You wanted a picture of him! He looked around his room and clumsily stumbled into the restroom deciding that was the best place to do it.
Ok ok, you can do this, he thought trying to hype himself up. Besides he is usually shirtless in his hero costume right? But for some reason, this felt so different. Eijiro struggled to keep his hands from shaking as he ripped off his shirt and nervously took selfies in front of the mirror.
What the hell am I doing, he second-guessed himself as he scrolled through the pictures he took deciding on the best one. Finally settling on one he nervously pressed the send button.
Your response came in minutes but felt like ages as he shakingly waited. Did he show too much skin, he wondered? He hoped his picture didn't look too suggestive. But you asked for one right? So it's fine, he thought, trying to ease himself.
Eijiro's eyes snapped to his phone as soon as it buzzed with a response from you.
Damn.
Was all your message said.
Damn, what?! He thought, running his hands over his face. Maybe you meant his injuries? Of course, right? That is what you two were talking about.
Yeah, you got me pretty good, but don't worry I'm alright!
He responded, commenting on the darkened bruises on his own abdomen that you had given him.
Not the injuries silly. You. You look good.
Eijiro's face burnt red hot reading your message. Do you really think he looked good? Was that the real reason you had asked him for a picture? Were the injuries just an excuse to ask, he wondered.
You look good too.
He typed and sent before thinking, panic caused him to quickly send a follow-up text.
Oh man, that sounded so pervy I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to be weird or anything!
However, you didn't respond to Eijiro with a text but with another picture instead. This one was more provocative than the last showcasing even more of your body.
Eijiro suddenly felt his sweats become tighter as his excitement grew at the revelation that you were doing this on purpose. You wanted him to look at you with lustful eyes.
Yet again, Eijiro found himself staring too long causing you to send him a follow-up text.
Don't be rude, send one back.
Eijiro dabbed at the blood beginning to leak from his nose, as he realized: this was going to be a long night.
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Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries
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tokyothirstygang · 1 year
Text
Your bff Chifuyu is everything a girl could want: hot, loyal, and adorably stupid. There’s only one problem with your golden boy…he thinks he’s bad in bed. Good thing he has a friend like you willing to help him improve his dick game
You’re lounging around on a Saturday night with your best friend, Chifuyu.
He seems distant as he sits on the couch with you, eyes trained on the TV but clearly spaced out.
“Chifuyu? Hello? Are you okay? You’ve seemed…off all day.”
He doesn’t respond until you grab a pillow and chuck it at his head.
“Hey! What the hell?”
He tries to throw the pillow back at you, but you catch it before it hits you.
“Sorry! I tried talking to you but you didn’t answer. What’s up with you? You’ve been weird since you got here.”
Chifuyu sighs and slumps down further into the couch.
“I can’t tell you. It’s too embarrassing.”
You turn to sit sideways on the couch to face him full on.
“I’ve literally seen you trip, rip your pants then land in dog poop. What could be more embarrassing that?”
His face flames at the memory.
“Hey, you said you’d never bring that up again!”
You fight off a smile, knowing it would only humiliate him further even though it was really funny at the time.
“Chifuyu forget about that. What’s bothering you? We tell each other everything.”
He bites at the cuticle around his thumb and bounces his leg up and down.
“Fine, but this conversation is never ever leaving this room, okay?”
You nod furiously, eager to know his big secret.
“Okay, well…last night I was with Anna, you know that girl I met at the bar? I don’t think she, uh, had a good time when we were together.”
Your eyebrows furrow.
“A good time doing what? Like hanging out with you?”
Chifuyu’s face hits full tomato status.
“No, not hanging out. When we were…” he trails off and it takes a moment for the realization to hit.
“Oh! When you were bed?”
Chifuyu groans in frustration and throws his head back.
“Yeah. It’s just-“ he reaches for a pillow and puts it over his face. “I don’t have that much experience. I know I’m not the best but I can’t be that bad, right?”
You accidentally snort at the question and he groans again.
“Im sorry! It’s just that we’ve never had sex so I wouldn’t really know what you’re like.”
“You know what? I really don’t want to talk about this right now. Forget I ever said anything.”
He leaves the couch and wanders over to the bar cart in the corner. He pours himself a shot of vodka and downs it immediately.
“You want one?” He asks and starts to pour you one before you even reply.
He comes back holding four shots- two for you two for him.
You both throw back all the shots, giggling and coughing the entire time.
When you’re both buzzed and warm, you catch yourself gazing at Chifuyu.
He was an extremely attractive man. Even if he wasn’t the best in bed yet any girl would still be lucky to have even bagged him in the first place.
That’s when your devious little mind gets an idea.
“Chifuyu…” your mouth starts talking before your brain can catch up and without realizing it, you say something that changes you both forever. “What if we had sex? If you think you’re bad in bed, you can practice with me.”
He stares at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.
“W-what?”
“I said…” You scoot closer to him.“let’s have sex.”
He still looks startled, but you don’t miss the way his eyes briefly linger on your lips.
“We don’t have to. I wasn’t trying to pressure you I just…I just…” his words gets lost in this throat.
The more he looks at you the more he can’t ignore how soft and inviting your lips look. He also can’t ignore the way your shirt is clinging to your tits or how your eyes are lighting up with that mischievous glint.
“So what if we do have sex? What then? We can’t just be the same after that, can we?”
You know he’s right but the topic has already been put on the table. No going back now.
“Things don’t have to change. You’re just practicing with me. You’re probably just getting nervous when you’re with other girls, but you know me, right? We can just have fun with it. It’ll be like…a science experiment!”
Chifuyu shakes his head at the comparison.
“You’re treating my dick like a science experiment?”
You both fall into a fit of laughter. The whole idea starts to seem ridiculous until you catch sight of Chifuyu nervously bouncing his leg again.
You start to turn your attention back to the TV when Chifuyu’s hand lands gently on your thigh.
When you look at him you see his pupils are dilated and his cheeks are flushed.
“If we do this…promise it won’t ruin things with us.”
“I promise.” You hold out your pinky, and Chifuyu grins as he links his with yours.
“Okay, then.” He shifts himself off the couch and down onto the floor. He’s on his knees in front of you, and you’re confused until he reaches for the waistband of your sweatpants.
“Lift up.” He demands, and you immediately obey. He slides the pants and your underwear off together then gently pulls you to the edge of the couch.
“Spread your legs for me.” A jolt of adrenaline rushes through you as you open your legs and expose yourself to him.
He takes a moment to admire the view in front of him before moving his lips to your inner thighs. He’s making a point of teasing you by giving attention to every spot except for where you need him most.
“Chifuyu… please.” When you lift your hips up, he takes the hint and gives you what you want.
Immediately its clear why someone wanting a quick hook up might hate chifuyu: he eats pussy like he’s in love with you.
He’s making out with it like it’s your mouth, passionately kissing, sucking and sliding his tongue around it like he’s waited his whole life to have you spread out in front of him like this.
He’s slow and intentional about it, holding your hands and listening to every little sound you make to see what you like the most. He’s going to make sure you feel every little thing, and he’s going make sure it feels fucking good.
You writhe beneath him, lifting your hips up to ride his face. He lets you control him. Whenever you push his face in deeper, he happily obliges while securing your thighs around his head with his strong hands.
“Fuck! Chifuyu…”
When you cum, you cum hard. Harder than anyone has ever made you cum from just foreplay alone.
When you finally recover from your orgasm, you’re in complete shock.
If this was any indication of what he was like in bed, all of those other girls were definitely idiots.
Chifuyu was going to ruin you.
“Jesus, Chifuyu. You’re so good at that.”
He blushes at the compliment.
“Really? Thanks, I-I wasn’t sure.”
You sit up, lean forward, and gently grab his face. You kiss him eagerly, not missing the taste of yourself on his tongue.
“Let’s go to my bedroom.” You suggest, and he nods, immediately pressing his lips to yours again as soon as you’re done talking.
You stumble back to your room, feverishly kissing the entire way. When you finally get there, you’re entirely naked and Chifuyu is down to his boxers.
“What position do you want to try first?” You finally pull away from him long enough to catch your breath. You sit down on the edge of the bed and look up at him.
“Uh…I’m not sure. Maybe-“
“Oh my god.” You accidentally cut him off mid sentence. While he was talking you snuck a peek at the bulge in his boxers. Unless your eyes are playing tricks on you, his cock has to be big.
“Wait, let me see.” You reach forward and roll his boxers down his thighs. When you finally get a good look at it, your mouth drops open.
“What? What’s wrong?” Chifuyu’s eyebrows furrow in confusion .
“Nothing, it’s just…huge.”
You’re not exaggerating. It’s a long, thick cock that’s guaranteed to split you in half.
“Is that okay? Do you think you could take it?” His genuine concern is adorable…and sexy.
“Y-yeah we can make it work. Just tell me what you want.”
He decides he wants you from behind first so you get on to your hands and knees and brace yourself for him.
When he tries to enter you, you immediately clench around the tip.
“Oh, shit.” Chifuyu sighs at the friction. “You might be too tight for me.”
“Just go slow. I can take it.” You’ve never had someone as big as Chifuyu and now that you’re presented with the opportunity, you can’t back down.
He reaches around you and starts rubbing circles into your clit.
“Is that better?”
You nod, dizzy at the feeling of being slowly stretched and filled up.
When you manage to take him halfway, he leans down and presses kisses onto your spine.
“You’re doing so good for me. Shit, just keep taking it like that.”
That’s when you know Chifuyu has lost himself to his lust. Level headed Chifuyu would be way too shy to say something like that. You have officially entered uncharted territory with him.
As he sinks in a little more, he tests the waters by giving you two steady, deep thrusts. When you immediately cry out, he smiles to himself.
“Look at you. Already falling apart for me.”
You sigh and bite your lip as you grab a pillow and lie face down ass up.
Chifuyu takes that as a sign you’re ready and willing for him so he starts pounding into you.
Your brain doesn’t even know what sound to focus on: his growls, his hips crashing into you or your own screams of pleasure.
Within minutes he has you cumming all over him, chanting his name and gripping the sheets.
He waits for you to ride out your orgasm before he flips you over on to your back. You’re still seeing stars when he directs your attention to his dick.
"Look what you did to me.”
Around the middle of it is a sticky, white ring.
“Creaming all over my fucking cock when I was barely inside you.”
You’re still in complete awe at the way he’s been talking to you. You initiated the sex thinking you were going to teach him some tricks but instead he was unlocking new kinks for you.
“Come here.” He backs off the bed and stands in front it. He pulls you up and to the edge of the mattress. “Clean up your mess.”
When you look up into his eyes you see they’re dark and animalistic.
Your sweet Chifuyu is gone.
You take him into your mouth, almost immediately gagging because of his size. If you thought taking him into your pussy was hard, this was on a whole other level.
He gently rocks his hips forward, sliding himself in and out of your mouth.
Your eyes are watering and you can barely breathe but he looks so gorgeous with his head thrown back and eyes closed you let him keep using you.
You continue to suck and choke on his cock for a couple of minutes before he finally pulls it out.
“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. Get back on the bed for me.”
You assume he wants to go back to where you’d left off but he stops you as you try to get back on all fours.
“No, baby. Lie on your back for me.”
You do as he says and before you know he’s got your legs spread open and thrown over his thighs.
“I wanna see your pretty face while you take it.”
Just like that he’s sliding back into you, stretching you and making you feel full before he’s even started fucking.
When he finally does start moving his hips forward, you swear he’s going to rip you in half.
“Fuck! Chifuyu…you’re so…so big...” Your words only encourage him to keep going, and when he miraculously sinks fully into you, you both cry out.
“Shit…you’re the only one who’s been able to take me like this.” He confesses, sliding his hand down to toy with your clit. “Your pussy must be made for me.”
He intently watches your face and when his cock finds the spot that makes your eyes roll back, he keeps hitting it until you’re speechless.
You want to yell his name, moan in pleasure, and tell him you’re about to cum but it feels too good to do anything but just take it.
He feels you getting close and leans down to your eye level. He presses his forehead against yours while he strokes you slow and deep.
“I know you want to cum, baby.” He whispers and your toes curl. “Just let me have it. Make a mess on my cock.”
You find your voice again as your orgasm hits you hard. You scratch at his back as you scream his name over and over.
“Shit…ugh…baby…” Chifuyu pulls out and strokes himself a few times before he cums all over your stomach.
When he flops down in bed next to you, you’re completely confused.
“So, wait a minute…why exactly did you think you’re bad in bed?”
He lets out a shaky laugh as he tilts his head to look at you.
“I don’t know. I could never get it in all the way. I thought maybe they weren’t turned on enough to take it. Like maybe they didn’t really like me or something.”
You smack him with a pillow for the second time that night.
“You idiot! They couldn’t take it because you’re big not because they didn’t like you.”
Chifuyu glances at his dick as he considers it.
“Huh… maybe you’re right?”
You roll your eyes and playfully shove him.
“I think you’ve been in too many fights. Your brain is only operating at 5% these days.”
He chuckles as he rolls out of bed. He leaves the room and returns with a towel for you.
As you clean yourself off, you see Chifuyu sitting on the edge of the bed bouncing his leg again.
“So…how was I? You can tell me the truth.”
It’s baffling that he’s nervous again after everything you’d just gone through together.
“Chifuyu Matsuno, you have officially ruined other men for me.”
____
Shout-out to all the big dick Chifuyu stans I hope everyone survived this story because I was losing my mind writing it 🥵 lmao
____
@sherlockscumslut @tomiokas-lunchbox
@kindbitch
3K notes · View notes
casiia · 1 year
Note
virgin!ethan landry buying condoms before attending a party with chad (idk this would be so funny and awkward😭😭😭)
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[ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚]
pairing .: ethan landry x reader
genre .: suggestive
word count .: 3k
warnings .: suggestive content (minors dni.), female reader, alcohol indulgence, dry humping 
author's note .: SORRY NO SMUT! just a lot of plot! but i had soo much fun writing this, whoever requested this i think you’re so funny! i originally was going to add smut but lack of motivation. my little nerd boy psycho getting teased by shirtless farmer chad makes me giggle. but i hope you guys love this as much as i do because i’m giggling soso bad. also i don’t have a dick i’ve never bought condoms b4 so i tried my best errr. also also guys please b careful when drinking at parties. this is just a lot of plot and lowkey ethan x chad (im slash jay) but if enough people want it i will write smut in a part 2. 
© casiia 2023 DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK
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“wait why are you turning? we’re supposed to go down this street for another light.”
the muted sound of rain echoes inside the car; droplets of water splattering against the fogged windshield blurred the bright traffic lights, a mixture of green and red reflecting against the dash.
“pitstop. gotta pick up some stuff.” chad taps his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently – waiting for the light to turn green. his thumb smooths over the grooves that were engraved in the leather, frustration threatening to expose from his composed state. “get the fuck off your phone! go, the light is green.”
“pick up stuff? not drugs, right…?” ethan looks up from his phone, his illuminated screen lighting his features from the shadows of the night. with a buzz, he focuses his attention back to his device. a smile graces his lips as he reads over your notification, fingers moving quick to type a response to you. 
“no, not drugs. condoms.”
adjusting the seat belt that suddenly became uncomfortable around his neck, ethan swallows thickly,  a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “oh.”
“i mean, you’re gonna need them. i doubt nothing’s gonna happen between you and her tonight.” pulling into the lot, chad cheekily smiles over to his friend, playfully hitting his arm.
“w-what? we aren’t anything serious, i don’t think she looks at me like that.” leaning towards the window to escape chad’s ruthless teasing, he resisted the urge to check the notification that had vibrated his phone – knowing it was from you.
“she definitely does, she’s always giving you that look.” throwing his hands up in gratitude when he found a parking spot, chad carefully pulled into the tight spot. “you guys are so annoying, everyone can see it but you two.”
“what look?” unbuckling his seat belt with a click, ethan chews on his bottom lip to stop the smile that threatened to show on his face. 
“the ‘i want to fuck you’ look.” turning the engine off with the twist of a key, chad unbuckles and climbs out of the car. “just fuck already, what’s stopping you.” watching ethan take off the cardboard helmet of his costume, he chuckles lightly. “i mean, she wants to fuck a guy dressed up as a cardboard robot.”
“hey. it’s from that movie murder party, and maybe put on a shirt before you comment on my costume.” opening the passenger door, ethan reaches into the back seat, grabbing a plain white tank and tossing it to the shirtless farmer standing in the drizzling rain. 
“oh right.”
“i don’t think there is a ‘fuck me look’ i think you’re thinking way into things.” stepping out and shutting the door, ethan stuffs his phone and wallet into his back pocket, walking towards the pharmacy with long strides to avoid the rain.
“what would you know, you’re a virgin.” locking the car with a loud beep, chad swings his lanyard around his fingers, letting his keys jangle against each other carelessly. laughing loudly when he catches a glimpse of ethan’s shocked expression, he holds his hands out in reassurance. “well i mean, after tonight you won’t be.”
“i’m not gonna do anything with her unless she wants me to.” walking past the automated doors, he waits for chad to walk in front of him, not wanting to waste time and lead the two into the wrong aisle. 
“well of course, but it’s better to be safe than sorry at the end of the night. don’t wanna get her pregnant or anything.” chad grins, walking towards an aisle in the back – almost too easily, like he’s been here a million times. 
“right. how do you…put one on?” glancing at the many colorful boxes to his left, he clears his throat when turning to his right, staring at the shelf of the pregnancy test. 
“open the wrapper, careful not to rip it that’s important, then just slide it on. if it’s that much trouble just ask the girl.” chad hums to the music playing overhead in the store, squatting down to get a peak at the bottom shelves. 
“oh, okay. what about lube, think i’ll need that?” eyeing the different brands of condoms, he  feels his phone buzz again, the weight of his phone all of a sudden feeling heavy in his pants. 
2 messages from angel girl
ethan smiles at the notifications, quickly swiping into his phone to answer you. warmth bubbles in his chest as he replies, watching his message turn from sent to read in just a second.
“hey, are you listening to me?” 
“huh?” looking up from his phone, his smile drops, snapping out of his dazed state.
“i said, lube is a waste of money. just use spit, works the same if you can also get her wet.” picking up a box of magnums, chad stands from his squatted position, patting out the creases in his pants before heading to the register. “there’s nothing to be worried about, bro. just make sure you focus when it happens, stay in the moment. the usual.”
“mhm.” now very anxious, ethan trails behind his roommate with twisted fingers. “maybe i should take the costume off?” picking at the hem of his shirt under the cardboard vest, he laughs awkwardly; imagining you taking his ridiculous costume off before climbing under the blankets had him shaking his head.
“maybe just keep the helmet, can’t not dress up at a halloween party.” grabbing his wallet from his pocket once they reached the self checkout machines, he scanned the box before swiping his card. “we should go, mindy’s been on my ass.”
the two of them ran to the car, seeking shelter from the rain that turned from a light drizzle to a thundering pour. ethan ran his hands through his hair, combing his damp brown hair out of his face. leaning back into the leather seat with a huff, he groaned dragging his hands down his cheeks, the cardboard around his chest stiffening his movements. 
slipping his arms into the cut out holes, he shimmied the fake armor over his head and let it clumsily fall into the back seat. memories of you and him making the costume made him frown; he thought back to how pretty you look with ruffled hair, sitting on his bedroom floor in only pajamas, cutting away at the cardboard material with kid scissors, cursing at him when he accidentally cut out of the traced lines.
the loud crinkle of plastic strips him of his thoughts, chad loudly tearing into the box. “take a few. i’m just gonna leave the box in the car…for later.” 
“think you’re gonna end up with tara tonight?” ethan teases with a smirk. picking at the golden packs, he holds them up to the window, letting the plastic shine against the dull streetlight. 
“shut up, now strap in. we’re already late i cannot take another text from mindy.”
the far-off sound of music caught ethan’s attention as chad pulled into the neighborhood, a variety of cars piled into the driveway and along the street, lights flashing from the windows inside the house. 
grabbing his poorly made helmet made of cardboard, he slipped it over his head, making sure it sat comfortably and evenly on top of his hair.
“did tara tell you what she was gonna wear?” checking his phone for your notification, ethan frowned slightly when finding out you had left him on read. he was only a few paces from the house, where he would soon find you. although the more he thought of you, the more the nerves began to eat at him. would you even want to sleep with him, what if he was going to make a fool of himself – what if you friendzoned him. rubbing his forehead with a sigh, he stuffed a few condoms into his pockets, his heart beating out of his chest. 
“pirate i think, wanted to match but it was too last minute. what about your girl?” making sure the car was locked after they had got out, chad shoves his keys into his pants, letting the lanyard hang within view. 
“she didn’t want to tell me, said it was gonna be a surprise.” feeling his heartbeat in his ears, ethan balled his fist tightly, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. he didn’t want to mess things up with you, he was scared – scared that he would mess things up and lose the best person that had ever shown up in his life. 
“relax, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“i’m trying, i’m just nervous. i don’t want things to go the wrong way tonight, what if i misread her.” stopping outside the door, he could hear the roar of music, walls vibrating with each base drop. the faint smell of marijuana and alcohol tickled his nose, his face churning immediately at the unpleasant smell. 
“whatever happens is for a reason, don’t make sex your first priority. if she wants to fuck you, which im sure she does, she’ll make it clear. stop worrying.” chad places a hand on the brunette’s shoulder, squeezing comfortably. 
“right. make sure i don’t drink too much? i actually want to remember this night.” taking one last deep breath, ethan turns the knob on the door, finally arriving at the party. an overwhelming amount of people crowded the kitchen, abandoned red solo cups lingering all over the house. 
pushing through the crowd of people with curt apologies, ethan scanned over the horde of tipsy college students, looking for your face in the midst of it all. relaxing a bit when he saw anika in the corner of the room with mindy, he glanced over his shoulder to see if chad was following him before nudging his way through to his friends across the room.
“where have you guys been? i thought we agreed to be here 45 minutes ago!” mindy throws exasperated hands in the air, eyebrows raised mockingly.
“traffic. where’s y/n?” frowning when he didn’t see you amongst the other girls, he turned back to the kitchen to see if you were stuffed in there.
“she was here a second ago.i  think she went to ask tara if she knew where you were, but honestly who knows where that little pirate could be.” anika shrugs lightly at the question, repositioning her legs over her girlfriend’s. “what’s going on with you two anyways?”
“noth-”
“ethan?” 
spinning on his heel at the sound of your voice, he can’t help but let a smile paint his lips. his voice catching in his throat when he sees you, he drops his arms to his side. jaw dropping ever so slightly, he couldn’t stop the way he looked you up and down, engraving your image in the back of his mind.
you were head to toe in white; high socks that squeezed the fat of your thighs, a white mini skirt  that just barely covered the curve of your ass, a semi see through corset, and to top it all off – a pair of small feathery wings that sat on your exposed shoulders.
“an angel.”
“surprise! where’s the rest of your costume? we worked so hard on it.” stepping closer to him to fix his lopsided helmet, you brushed hair out of his eyes with a pout. 
“left it in the car, didn’t want it to get ruined or anything.” looking down at you with a smile, he lets his hands wander to your hips; his thumbs caressing your skin just above the waistline of your short mini skirt. 
“oh, that’s a shame. you looked so cute in it.” pinching his cheeks in a playful manner, you bit your lip with a laugh, watching him squirm away from you. “let’s get a drink, i’ve been waiting for you.”
grabbing his hand in your left, you intertwined your fingers together, pulling him to the crowded kitchen. half filled bottles and empty plastic cups littered the marble countertop, a sticky residue sheening over the surface of the table. 
“hm, i think there’s enough for a couple shots.” 
letting go of his hand but still keeping him close, you leaned over the island to grab cups; unscrewing the cap of a half empty vodka bottle, you chewed your lip in concentration, completely eyeballing the amount of liquor you poured into the plastic cup. 
“bottoms up, baby!” bringing the cup up to your lips, you cringed lightly, the smell of alcohol making your eyes water. squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you tilted your head back letting the liquid flow into your mouth before swallowing. shaking your head with a groan, you stuck your tongue out feeling the booze burn down your throat, almost instantly warming your chest. “so gross.”
ethan hesitated before drinking the foul smelling alcohol, coughing abruptly afterwards. “not worth it.�� hearing you laugh at him, he teasingly shoved your shoulder with a soft smile. “do you think…we could talk?”
“we’re talking right now, pretty boy.” starting to pour another round of shots, you briefly glanced up at him at his silence. “is something wrong?” 
“nothing’s wrong, i just meant talk in private.” taking off his fake helmet, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck – patiently waiting for you to finish taking another shot before replying.
“let’s go upstairs.” wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you tossed your now empty cups in the trash before grabbing his wrist and pulling him through the house. music blaring uncomfortably in your ear, you took in your surroundings before leaving; people at every inch of the house, a line forming for the bathroom, corners where couples made out, and a couch where all of your friends sat. catching chad’s eye, he gave you a knowing smirk while raising his eyebrows. flipping him off in return, you squeezed ethan’s wrist lightly, guiding him up the stairs and to an empty bedroom. 
ethan tried his hardest not to look up your skirt while you walked in front of him, but of course he failed. he caught a glimpse of your undergarments – pretty pink panties with a white lace lining the edges. swallowing his guilt, he shifted his gaze back to the ground, fearing that he would get worked up the longer he stared. “do you know where you’re going?”
“not in the slightest, but it’s a big house, there’s bound to be one more vacant bedroom.” jiggling the knobs of each door, you giggled quietly hearing the muted moans from inside occupied rooms. “oh here.” twisting the handle and peeking inside, you opened the door for him when deeming it was clear. 
closing and locking the door behind you, you made your way over to the bed, sitting on the edge with your hands neatly folded in your lap. “what’s on your mind? you’re kinda scaring me.” 
dropping his costume prop near the door, ethan covered his face, groaning into his hands before finally piling up enough courage to look you in the eye. “what are we?”
“what do you mean?” furrowing your brows with an awkward laugh, you could feel heat creep up your neck, the liquor settling in your stomach. 
“you’re always calling me these names, and touching me in ways you don’t do with anyone else. i just want to know if you’re playing with me.” sitting next to you on the bed, he kept a fair distance respecting your boundaries. “i like you a lot. more than i want to, i need to know if you feel the same.”
“i-” sighing loudly with shaky hands, you shifted your position, sitting on your knees while facing him. the hem of your skirt creeping up your thighs as you sat back. “i like you too, i just didn’t know how to tell you.” crawling closer to him, you reached for his hand, pressing his palm to your heart. “this is how you make me feel. all the time.”
“can i kiss you?” 
nodding with a big grin, you let him lean forward to connect your lips. putting a hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself, you hummed softly feeling him pull you closer, straight into his lap. the kiss was sweet and soft, lips moving slowly against each other, teeth clashing together with inexperience. you wrapped your arms around his neck, slightly grinding your hips down into his. “fuck, sorry.”
whining into your mouth, ethan squeezed your hips harshly. “no, please. again, m’felt good.” pulling away from your lips with a heavy pant, he cupped your face, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.
“yeah? s’that why you brought me up here?” giggling, you rolled your hips again, the seam of his pants nudging at your clothed clit. lips parting with a quiet moan, you bit the inside of your cheek, a blush painting your cheeks.
“maybe.” tilting your head up with his thumb, he pressed kisses down your exposed neck, nibbling and sucking numerous marks along the way. “fuck, i want you.” slipping his hand down your back, he squeezed the fat of your ass, mumbling against your neck.
“i know, baby. but not tonight.” pushing him away just enough to see his face, you pressed a sweet kiss to the button of his nose. “want your first time to be something you’ll remember, not even a little bit fuzzy.”
opening his mouth in protest, you shook your head – your opinion already set in stone. pecking his lips one last time, you climbed off of his lap. 
“you’re such a tease” 
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🏷 .:@loaksbitch @sullybby @dilfverz my stinkies
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jksprincess10 · 1 year
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Mr Miller’s birthday gift || Dbf ! Joel x reader
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Summary: You meet your dad’s best friend at the bar where you’re celebrating your birthday. 
CW: Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 36). Joel knew her since she was a teenager. oral sex (f receiving), alcohol, p in v, unprotected sex, he talks you through it, praise kink, rough sex, domestic Joel, implied death of a loved one, this is 3k words (you can just skip to the porn, I won’t be mad). 
The bar was already vibrating with low music, the lights were warm and yellowish. It was a busy Saturday night, well as busy as it can be for a small-town lounge. The place was mostly occupied by older gentlemen, except for your group of girls.
It was your 22nd birthday and it was the less sketchy place to have your party. You didn’t love it, but your friends said you probably wouldn’t have to pay for any drinks that night, as the men would shower you with gifts, hoping to get lucky. Anyway, you were thankful to be with your best friends Samantha, Bianca and Allison.
You were probably on your third shot paid by a stranger. You were dancing close to your friends, even though it wasn’t really the bar where people would dance. The soft fabric of your black dress would shimmer elegantly under the lights.
“Holy shit. Is that Mr Miller and his brother?” asked Allison while looking at the door who had just opened to let the two handsome men enter. Your gaze followed hers. The men were… infamous in your neighborhood to be real eye candy. To make matters worse, Joel was your dad’s best friend. They went to school together and they really hit it off even though Mr Miller was a few years younger than him - your dad wasn’t really the mature kind anyway. They had lost each other for a while before reconnecting when you were a teenager.
“Yes. Fuckfuckfuck.” You muttered, before asking for a glass of water, hoping to get down from your slight buzz. You didn’t want him to see you drunk right as he got here.
As you were drinking the lukewarm water, your eyes met with his soft brown irises. You couldn’t do as if you didn’t see him. Especially since he was waving at you. You shot him a smile and your friends pushed you to go and talk to him.
“Hey hun’, didn’t think I’d see you this bar for old men.”
“Well, you know… it’s my birthday so… There are few places where you can party in this awful town.” You smiled awkwardly as you tucked some of your hair behind your ear covered in various piercings.
He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Shit, I totally forgot. I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you.” There was a way he could make it up to you, yes. You blushed slightly as you thought about it.
He would always bring you gifts for your birthday since you could remember. He was a caring man, really. You were totally crushing on him since, well forever. Even though it was really weird because he was so close to your dad, and he knew you since when you were a teen. But… you were an adult now, right? You could do what you want.
“N-No worries, Mr. Miller!” You looked awkwardly at his brother, who smiled at you. “Well, I’ll let you enjoy your evening. Hope Sarah is doing well.”
Sarah was his adorable tween daughter. You would babysit her when she was younger. Joel was a widow, and you didn’t know much about his past, as he didn’t like talking about it.
He went to sit at the bar with his brother. You went back to your friends who were clutching to you like they were hungry for gossip.
“God, what did he say?” Whispered Bianca.
“Nothing important! He didn’t get me a gift, can’t blame him, but he said he would make it up to him. Now, the subject is over. Please fetch me a drink.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You went on with your evening without really thinking about it, until the barman brought drinks to your table that were from Tommy and Joel. You felt like you were melting in the floor, you wanted to disappear. But still, you took the shot, while looking in his direction. He locked eyes with you and smiled. You were starting to feel the heat.
“He totally wants to fuck you.” Whispered Allison.
You spat half of the shot on the table.
“He doesn’t seem like the type to like younger women. He was married and he’s super serious.” You argued.
“Stop being delusional, he’s been looking since he entered the bar. And we all know you’ve been crushing on him since you were a teen, he was like your sexual awakening. What are you waiting for?” Said Samantha.
“Oh my god, stop.” You were starting to get fed up. You didn’t want your friends feeding into your delusions and make you think that this was more than it was.
Frustrated, you got up to ask for more water and of course, you bumped into him.
“Y’okay?” He asked.
“Yes, my friends were just being inappropriate and saying how hot is Tommy.” You lied to get your revenge.
The men both laughed, and Joel patted his brother on the shoulder.
“You still got it. I don’t.” Mr Miller laughed.
You finally got your water.
“Sorry for the bother, Joel… ehm… I mean, Mr Miller.” You didn’t know why you apologized, but it was automatic. You always apologized even though you had no reason to do so.
You went back to your friends and drank your water. Later, you ate a cake that was made by Bianca, and you all kept drinking until it was time to go. Still, you were careful and drank a lot of water. You certainly drank less than the girls and you were feeling okay, but not enough to drive. You felt tipsy, but you could still walk and think mostly straight.
The girls called a taxi and when you were leaving with them, Joel and Tommy were leaving at the same time.
“Hey, y/n, I was just dropping Tommy off, do you also want a ride?” He asked.
The girls pushed you more towards them to encourage you.
“Y-yeah, that would be really nice actually.” You tried to smile.
You hugged the girls before following the men. Tommy let you sit at the front, which made things more awkward for you. You kept fidgeting with your jewelry as soft music filled the truck. You tried looking outside, but sometimes, you’d turn your head to catch a glimpse of Mr Miller’s side profile. He had a nice strong jaw and a bump on his nose that you found adorable. Small wrinkles formed around his eyebrows as he was concentrating on the road.
Finally, he dropped off Tommy, you gave him directions to the building where you lived as you did some small talk. You texted your dad to tell him you were almost home and safe. You didn’t address that Joel was the one who drove you, though. Your dad was always worried when you went out late.
You were 2 minutes away when Joel got a call. You picked it up for him and put it on speaker. It was Sarah.
“Dad, Lea and I are going to sleep now, just wanted to say goodnight. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight baby girl. I’ll pick you up around 10 and we’ll get breakfast together. Love you.”
You hung up for him and he thanked you. You tried to ignore the way you felt your body melt as you heard the sweet nickname. He was a really sweet dad, really.
Joel parked his car behind the building to make sure you’d make it home safe. He didn’t like the idea of dropping you off in the streets. You cleared your throat, feeling your heart thumping loudly in your chest. You wanted to be bold, and maybe the alcohol you consumed helped a little.
“Mr Miller, you know, what you said about making it up to me?” He turned to you, looking at your face attentively.
“Yeah, what about it, darlin’?” The nickname was rolling on his tongue because of his stupidly charming southern accent.
You bit your lip. “Do you…” You leaned into him, elbow resting on the middle console of the car to support your upper body. He followed your movements and you saw him swallow nervously. “Do you want to come inside?” His eyes moved down to your lips, his long lashes covering most of his irises. You took that as a sign and pressed your lips against his. It was soft, timid at first, until he cupped your cheeks with his hands and leaned more into you, his tongue licking at your lips to ask for entry. You opened your mouth slightly to let him taste you and let yourself taste him. He tasted like the beers he had consumed. You couldn’t help the whimpers that died against his lips.
Your lips went their separate ways when you had to gasp for air. Joel seemed like he was hesitating, fingers tapping nervously on his steering wheel. You instantly panicked.
“I’m sorry, I guess I… misinterpreted…” You were opening the door, but he stopped you, holding your wrist.
“It’s just… are you sober enough? I don’t know if you’re just too drunk to understand who I am. And I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Mr… Joel… I am. I want this. Please. If… if anything, I’m the one taking advantage of you here.”
He let out a shaky breath. “God. Don’t tell your dad.”
You agreed and got out of the truck, as he followed closely to you. You held his arm to keep him even closer and you almost ran to your front door. He kissed you again in the elevator, hungrily, this time, giving you a taste of what was coming.
On the 3rd floor, you went out of the elevator, and you fumbled with your keys until you found the right one and opened the door. You almost banged it shut. He grabbed your waist to bring you closer, mouth attaching to yours as you were guiding him blindly to your room.
“I always thought you were… so pretty and nice…and soft… but I didn’t want to be a creepy 36 years old man hitting on you…” He said between kisses.
You laid your back on your soft bed, making him hover his body on top of you. His strong thighs straddled your waist, making you feel every inch of him.
“Stop. I had a crush on you since I first met you.”
He laughed softly, a smile accentuating the small wrinkles around his eyes. Your hands caressed the soft flannel fabric of his green checkered shirt, before undoing the buttons. He helped you take off the black t-shirt that he was wearing underneath. You drank in every centimeter of tan skin you discovered there. He was already naturally tan, but the fact that he mostly worked outside brought out the delicious color of his skin even more. He wasn’t the most fit man, and he had a bit of a tummy, but his arms were strong and inviting. Every part of him looked soft.
“You’re perfect, Mr Miller.”
The name went straight to his dick.
“You’re gonna have to stop calling me like that, hun’.”
“Or else?” You asked teasingly.
His rough working hands brushed over your thighs, before pulling up slowly your shimmering dress. You helped him get it off, revealing a black lace bralette and matching panties.
“Or I won’t be able to control myself.”
The dress joined his shirt on the ground, becoming one in the pile of laundry. His hands caressed delicately the skin he discovered, your soft tummy, the smooth skin of your chest.
“I’m okay with that, Mr Miller.” You whispered near his ear, before nipping at his earlobe. You laughed as your nose brushed against his scruffy beard.
He groaned and held down your wrists, moving you away from him and keeping you stuck against the mattress. He bent the top of his body over yours, lips tracing the line of your neck, your chest, your belly, slowly going down on you. He finally placed a soft kiss on one of your thighs.
“So pretty… yet, so fucking bratty.” He sighed as his fingers traced the outline of your cunt, feeling the wetness already ruining your lace panties. A breath got stuck in your throat, your body squirming, asking for more.
His plush lips replaced his fingers, placing kisses on your clothed wetness. Your fingers curled in his soft hair, pushing him closer. He softly slapped your thigh and you let him go.
“Please, Joel. I wanted this since forever.”
He smirked as he looked up at you, brown eyes filled with lust.
“Use your words, hun’. Be precise.”
“God. Please eat me out. Please please please.” You begged, already a mess, even though he barely touched you.
He seemed satisfied with your begs. Two fingers pulled down your panties, before discarding them somewhere in the room. He buried his face between your thighs, and he licked from the bottom to your clit, testing the waters.
You let out a swear word under your breath, hands coming back to his brown curls. He laughed softly, his breath hitting your wetness and making you shiver.
“You’re such a mess already. Dirty little girl.”
You pulled on his curls to bring him closer, and he finally committed to the part, tongue curling around your bundle of nerves, making you squirm against him. Joel put a hand on your lower tummy to keep your body down.
“You taste so fucking sweet, hun’. Knew you’d be so good for me.” He praised, before his tongue pressed harder against you, putting more pressure in each movement. You felt your body tremble under each lap of his tongue, moaning openly for him.
His fingers parted your folds so you would feel everything directly in your nerves. Two fingers collected your wetness and stimulated you, discovering every part of that sweet cunt. He left a kiss on your clit, before sucking it in his mouth. That sent you over the edge so quickly.
“G-Gonna cum, god, please… Joel…” He sucked even harder as you came undone under him, trembling, and closing your thighs under the impact of the orgasm. He guided you through it, being patient and waiting for you to settle down.
His face went back to face yours, before kissing you softly, making you taste yourself on his mouth.
“Take off your pants, I-I want to suck you…” You moaned against his lips, hands clumsily finding his leather belt.
“Not tonight hun’, as much as I want you to. It’s your birthday, not mine. So instead, I’ll fuck you, okay?”
You held his gaze and nodded. You’d let him do anything he wanted. He finally took off his pants and his boxers at the same time. Your gaze traveled down his hips to discover what you had imagined so many times. He was even bigger than you had seen through his tight jeans.
“Like what you see?” He asked flirtatiously.
“Yes. Better than I imagined when I was touching myself.”
“You thought about me like that, hun’?”
You nodded and helped him take off your bra, freeing your breasts.
“What would your old man say, hm? His sweet girl thinking about his best friend while masturbating...” He whispered before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking softly to make it harder. His other hand grabbed your other boob, his fingers pressing softly into the flesh.
“He doesn’t need to know, Joel.” Your fingers tugged on his curls to make him stop. “Stop making me wait. Please fuck me.” You begged.
The older man finally obliged. His hands spread your thighs.
He suddenly stopped to ask. “Do you have condoms?”
“No, we don’t need them. Getting checked regularly and I’m on the pill. I want to feel you. Please.”
His hand held the base of his cock as he inserted himself slowly in your dripping hole. You tried to relax as much as you could to ease the pain. Seeing you wince under his insertion; he pressed a kiss against your mouth to soothe you. His soft brown eyes were looking attentively at your expression.
“You okay, hun? You still want this?”
“Yes. Just let me… just let me adjust. You’re fucking huge.”
“I know, I know, sweet girl. You’re doing good.” He shushed you, caressing your cheek as he finished inserting himself completely. You melted into his touch like you were starving for him.
You concentrated on your breath and your walls adjusted eventually. Joel was patient, caring. As always. You moved your hips to show him that he could start thrusting into you. He put his hands on each side of your head as he expertly moved his hips. Your hands came up to his cheeks to pull him into a soft kiss.
It hit you all at once. You were in love with Mr Miller. But you didn’t say anything, you just kept kissing him, muffling your whimpers against his mouth.
“How do you like it, hun’?” He asked as he let go of your lips to hide in the crook of your neck, leaving kisses there.
“Rough. Hard. Unless you’re too old to provide.” You teased with a smile.
“Watch your mouth, girl.”
His body suddenly left yours, leaving you empty and wanting more. He flipped your body over and held you by the hips to lift your ass up, as he thrusted forcefully back into you. You bit into your pillow to stop yourself from screaming. He seemed amused by your reactions, and he kept a fast and hard rhythm, the sound of your skin slapping filling the silent room.
“F-Fuck, Mr Miller…”
You moved your ass against him to feel him more, and he slapped your butt cheek, hard. You sobbed his name and your body fell back into the mattress. This didn’t stop him. He kept thrusting harshly into you as his fingers held your ass.
“Where do you want me, hun’?”
He pulled on your hair to lift your head and hear your response.
“Cum in me, please.”
His hips stuttered as he shot his warm liquid between your walls. You whined as he pulled his dick away from your hole. Even though your whole body was sore, you managed to get up and run to the bathroom, as Joel looked at you with an amused grin.
***
When you came back to your room, Mr Miller was still here, laid on your mattress, only wearing his boxers. You found clean panties in a drawer and joined him, your small body finding his warmth. He put his strong arms around you.
“Happy birthday.” He whispered as he smelled your hair.
“Thank you. It may be the best birthday. Whatever dad bought me… it doesn’t beat this gift.” You lifted your chin to steal a kiss from him. You bathed in his warmth and his spicy perfume, refusing to think that this was the last time you would do this. Still, it was in the back of his mind.
You eventually fell asleep in his arms, and he refused to move, not wanting to wake you up.
***
You woke up before him and you were grateful for this opportunity: you took the time to drink in the sight his peaceful expression and the soft curls sticking to his forehead. You got up slowly not to wake him up and found his flannel shirt on the ground. You took it in your hands, feeling the soft fabric, before stealing it to wear it around the apartment.
You made coffee and the sound of the machine woke him up. He joined you in the kitchen, looking groggy and tired. You sat up on the counter as you looked at him with an amused smile.
“Hi.” You said joyfully.
He approached you and pressed his hips between your legs as he leaned in for a kiss. “Hi, hun’. You look good in my shirt.”
He looked at the time and sighed. “I have to take a shower and then pick up Sarah. M’sorry… I wanted to stay.”
“It’s okay.”
You pointed him to the bathroom and before he disappeared, you said his name. He looked at you through the door.
“Is this the last time, Joel?” It felt weird, intimate, saying his first name now that you were fully sober and awake.
“’Course not.”
You stopped the coffee machine and joined him in the bathroom, leaving a kiss on his lips before disappearing with him in the bathroom.
“We may… have time for a quickie before I leave, hm?”
You laughed and your bodies found each other in the heat of the shower.
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lnfours · 4 months
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everything | l.n
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summary: he’s your best friend and you’re in love with him, but he’s not in love with you. or so you think, anyway.
warnings: fluff, a hint of angst, reader not knowing how love feels, kinda a situationship scenario but idk, also kind of hot trash?? - inspired by ceilings by lizzy mcalpine
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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
he was finally home. after months of busy schedules and being away from home, he was back. and the first thing he did? he texted you. he texted you and asked if you were busy, like he always did every time he was back in london.
you had told him no, your plans had fallen through last minute and to be honest, you missed him. you missed his laugh, the way he hugged you, the jokes the two of you shared. he was your person and you were his, it was as simple as that.
and sure, maybe he was your person for another, completely different reason. but at the end of the day, to you, he was just lando. he wasn’t ‘lando norris, formula one driver for mclaren’. he was the boy you had known since you were a teenager, the boy you cheered for on the sidelines ever since he decided he wanted to work towards his dreams.
so the two of you had made plans to go out for a drive and catch up, the tradition you held every time he came back. you’d drive around, get some take out, and head back to your apartment for a few episodes of your favorite shows or a movie he’d seen and thought you would like. he had picked you up, the mclaren running on the side of the street as you climbed in, closing the door behind you.
you smiled, leaning into his touch when he leaned over and wrapped you into a side hug from the drivers side, “hey! missed you,”
you smiled back at the brunette, his green eyes meeting yours, “missed you, too, lan.”
his eyes scanned yours before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. a new tradition you two had picked up ever since that drunken night in singapore. you had went to the grand prix with max, showing support for your best friend, just like you always did. somehow, someway, the two of you had found yourselves stripping each other’s clothes off in his hotel room. nothing but the sounds of your quiet moans and his mumbled curses filling the room as you learned each other’s bodies.
and it had become a thing, every time he’d come home you’d both find yourselves in the same predicament: tangled in the sheets within the hour.
the whole ordeal was like a dream come true in the beginning, something you had been wishing for since the moment you realized that maybe you loved him more than in a platonical way. now, as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, legs tucked underneath you as the rain pattered against the roof, your food in your lap as you stared out to the city lights below you, you weren’t sure it was a good idea. you had seen the girls that practically throw himself at you, why would he choose you over them?
he noticed your silence, tilting his head towards you and placing a hand on your thigh, “you okay?”
you swallowed thickly, “mhm,”
he knew you better than that, though, “no you’re not.”
you sighed, how do you tell someone who’s not in love with you that you want something more, “‘m fine, really.”
you picked at your nails, ignoring the way your phone was buzzing against your leg. you had assumed it was your friend texting you, begging for updates between you and the boy you were sitting next to.
“you know you can tell me anything, right?”
not this. not now.
you nodded, “i know.”
he nodded back at you, “okay,”
you looked back out to the window next to you, watching the rain drip down the glass. you swallowed the lump in your throat, biting down on your lip as you felt the tears prick your eyes. you felt stupid, stupid to feel like there was ever a real chance. a real chance that he could ever love you the way you loved him.
you felt his eyes on you again, “y/n?”
you hummed, turning back to face him, which was a mistake. you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.
“what’s wrong? seriously, i don’t know if i can handle the silence for much longer.”
you chuckled softly, shaking your head, “it’s nothing, really. promise,”
“stop lying to me,” he sighed, “c’mon, i’m your best friend. you can tell me anything.”
best friend.
you sniffled softly, which made his attention shift from your eyes to the small tear falling down your cheek in the dim lighting of the street light, “i just feel so… dumb.”
he raised an eyebrow, “why do you feel, dumb?”
he absentmindedly reached out and wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head and backing away from his touch.
he looked at you confused, a hint of hurt in his eyes as he watched you cry in front of him. he was wracking his brain, trying to figure out where he went wrong. trying to understand what you meant with your words, all while trying not to make himself feel like he was the reason for your tears.
you opened the car door, the rain smacking the pavement as you stepped out, “i can’t,”
he watched as you closed the car door, stepping out into the night sky and cold rain. he sat there for a second, his brain unable to catch up to what had just happened. his brain caught up, opening his own door as he chased after you into the freezing cold rain.
“y/n!”
you didn’t want to turn around, your tears mixing with the rain on your face. he was faster than you, though, grabbing your hand and holding you back from walking away from him. he spun you back to face him, your face glowing under the street light as he noticed how broken you look.
“what’s wrong!” he yelled over the pouring rain, “please, don’t shut me out!”
you let out a quiet sob, “i can’t do this right now, lando!”
he stood in front of you, frozen, as you repeated yourself, softer now, “i can’t keep doing this to myself.”
he shook his head, “what’re you talking about?!”
“just say it!” you shouted back, “just say you don’t really want me so i can move on and forget about it and we can go back like nothing ever happened!”
“what makes you think i want that?” he asked, “y/n, why do you think i come back to london instead of monaco whenever i have a break? because i want to see you!”
“not for the same reason i want to see you!”
“you don’t know that!”
you cried softly, turning away from him as he approached you again, taking your face into his hands. your eyes met yours as he spoke again, “y/n, i come back home to you because you’re all i think about when im not with you. every little thing i do, i think about you.”
you watched as his eyes scanned yours, begging for you to speak. he spoke first, though, “you’re all i think about, every night, every day. i should’ve told you how i felt sooner instead of dragging you on, but i’m falling in love with you.”
you shook your head, backing away from his touch again, “don’t,”
“don’t what?” he asked, “tell you i’m in love with you?”
“don’t say it if you don’t mean it. please, don’t say it just to make me feel better.”
“for one second can you just stand here and actually listen to me?” he sighed, “can you let yourself understand that there’s someone who actually loves you, standing right in front of you telling you. someone who’s ready to drop everything and show you.”
he reached for your hand and pulled you closer to him again, but this time you didn’t back away. he was so close to knocking down the final wall you had put up, so close to knocking down the walls you had put up as a sense of security. to keep yourself guarded, too scared to wear your heart on your sleeve once again.
but here he was, your best friend of all people, standing here in the pouring rain and giving you the fairytale moment you had always hoped for. the boy with curly brown hair and gorgeous green eyes was everything you could’ve ever wanted. everything you dreamed about, every future map you’d come up with in your journal, it always had him in it. one way or another, the two of you were meant to be.
two souls intertwined. that was you and him.
“lando-“
“i fucking love you,” he said, “so much that it physically hurts. like my chest gets all tight, and it feels like i can’t breathe-“
“lan-“
“and that night in singapore was when i realized you were the person i wanted to be with. not the models or the girls who throw themselves at me, i want to be with you. the one who knows my favorite flavor of ice cream, the one who knows all my greatest fears and all my secrets. the one who doesn’t judge me and i can talk to about anything. it’s you. it always has been, i’ve just been to blind to see it.”
the final wall came crashing down as you said his name, “lando,”
he hummed, his heart damn near flying out of his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your face so close to his as you mumbled a soft, “kiss me.”
he didn’t give it a second thought, immediately pressing his lips to yours. you kissed him back, the rain long forgotten about as the water from his hair dripped onto your forehead. he put every ounce of longing, passion and love into the kiss, a kiss nothing like the ones you had both shared before.
he pulled away, his forehead against yours, “you don’t have to say it back, but now you know that i love you.”
you pulled him back to you by his jacket, “i love you.”
he smiled before his lips were pressed back against yours. and you stood there, kissing in the rain, and everything felt like a scene straight out of a movie. the feeling something new to you no longer felt scary, or intimidating. it felt safe and warm.
and it was all because of him.
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loveshotzz · 2 months
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I guess it’s never really over
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mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter two -
I might kill my ex, not the best idea
Eddie warned Robin that a game of never have I ever was a bad idea, and you should know better than to go snooping where you don’t belong.
warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking (hey it’s a summer time barbecue in the midwest), you thought there was a lot tension the last chapter? baby, you haven’t seen nothing yet. jealousy, spicy things are revealed about all of them during a drinking game.
wc: 9.5k
series masterlist | series playlist
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June -
It’s been one week.
One entire week without even so much of a glimpse of that permanently messy head of hair, and god, you hated how much it bothered you. Ears perking up every time you’d catch the cadence of his voice through the receiver of Robin’s cordless phone the few times he called her to check in. Like an unwanted guest who wasn’t taking the hint, his broad shoulders and full pink lips that somehow always look like they need to be kissed haunt your unsuspecting dreams at night. 
You hate it, you hate him, and you try not to spiral about why it feels like the opposite.
“We’re going over to Steve’s tonight,” Robin practically hums around a mouthful of fruit loops, completely unaware of you already stewing about the boy whose name just rolled off her tongue this early in the morning. 
“What?” You snap, tearing your eyes from the slow pour of the coffee maker in front of you, grouchy and wound up from a dream about his big hands pulling your legs apart so perfect white teeth could nip at the inside of your thighs.
“Steve, you know that guy you told me you’d try and be nice to. The one who’s fixing your car?” Sarcasm drips from her tone as she scoops up another bite, “We’re going to his house.”
Of course.
“That’s cool with me.” You muster up enough effort to twist your lips up into a smile that feels more like a grimace. The smashed rainbow Robin reveals in her mouth when she laughs tells you it is.
“Do me a favor, and never go into acting.” Swallowing loudly, she drops her spoon back into her bowl with a clank. “I do appreciate you trying to pretend like you’re okay with it, though, and in all seriousness, we haven’t gone this long without seeing each other in like, forever. He says you're keeping me hostage.”
“I’m keeping you hostage?!” You scoff with a roll of your eyes, turning your back to finally pour yourself the cup of coffee you’ve waited so patiently for. “He’s the best friend stealer.”
“I’m not going to lie, I think I like you two fighting over me,” she laughs, looking a little too smug for your liking as she brings her empty bowl to the sink, Garfield slippers scuffling across the tile, too lazy to pick up her feet from the floor.
“Yeah, 'cause you’re sick.” A real smile curls up into your cup, inhaling the rich scent into your nose. “What are your plans to torture me with his presence this time?” 
Robin narrows her stare at you in a silent warning, pulling herself up to sit on the counter, orange cat covered feet dangling freely as you meet her gaze with softened eyes in a silent apology.
“Eddie’s off tonight, so we’re having a little reunion barbecue, and Steve’s gonna grill.”
Choking on your coffee, you sputter your sip back into your mug, turning her freckled face sour.
“Since when does Steve know how to cook, let alone grill?”
Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you know you’re skating on thin ice, but all the built up tension that tightens your muscles, and buzzes incessantly at your fingertips makes everything feel impossible to control.
“He’s not seventeen anymore - “
“Really? He had me fooled shoving his tongue down some pretty blonde’s throat at Rick’s the other night.” 
“That’s - come on, you know that's not fair. He didn’t even know -”
”Why stop at just the four of us, let’s invite Vickie, make it a real party.”
The name of your best friend’s ex leaves your mouth before you can stop it, instant regret making a heavy home in your chest that feels like it might cave in when her mood shifts with glassy eyes and it’s completely your fault.
“I take back what I said, I need you to start acting again.”
Jumping off the counter, you set your mug down so you can grab her arm before she can take those few steps out of the kitchen. 
“Hey! Look, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” 
She doesn’t put up much of a fight, even though you deserve it, the blue in her eyes turn to ice when she looks at you.
“I’m sorry.”
She holds your stare until she can tell you actually mean it, melting glaciers with a heavy sigh. 
“It’s fine, I get it.” 
Her words come out soft, just like the lines that smooth on her face.
“I know this is weird and like totally against friend code or whatever, but I think that just goes to show how much he must mean to me or even a testament to how much he’s changed if I’m even asking you to just try and do this. Just try, that’s all.”
“No, you’re right,” you fluster, doing your best to reassure her in a shaky voice, “I just slept badly and had a really weird dream. It just threw me off a little. I’m being so awful and I’m sorry.” 
Flashes of the way his hands gripped your hips and the dirty things he whispered in your ear has your palms start to sweat, making you loosen your grip on her arm before she can notice. 
Robin searches your face for the reassurance that she needs before a small smile finally tugs at the corners of her lips.“This is why you’re my best friend.” She pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around your neck.
“Only if you tell him that.” 
Snaking your arms around her waist, you let out a shaky laugh, silently preparing to see the man who hasn’t left the crevices of your mind since you stepped foot back in Hawkins.
———
It feels like you’re back in high school the way you can’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror, the nerves still feel the same.
Your gaze wanders up and down your reflection, turning from side to side, overly critical eyes take in your curves that are on display a little more than normal and you wonder if Robin will notice. Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, better yet you wonder if Robin will notice and have something to say about it. 
“You’re certainly spending a lot of time on an outfit.” Your best friend whistles low as she leans against the open bedroom door confirming your fears with a cross of her arms.
“Just trying to remember what I brought is all.” You don’t engage with the amusement that hides in her tone, smoothing down the short black skirt that flares over the tops of your thighs, before adjusting the straps on your matching tank top.
“Riiiight,” she snorts, earning the kind of glare that has her raising her hands in defense before a shit-eating grin cracks wide across her face. “I’m going to need you to hurry up, though. Do I need to remind you that we’re walking?”
“I’m done!” You huff, sock covered feet digging into her cream carpet as you make your way toward her, “I just need to put on my shoes.”
“You’ve got twenty secon-” she agonizes before three hard knocks on her front door cut her off. Her cheshire smile falters as she turns confused.
“You’re lucky you didn’t get to finish that sentence,” you warn in a harsh whisper, grabbing your Converse that had been haphazardly kicked off earlier in the corner. 
Robin puts a ringed finger to her lips, like the possibility of a kidnapper being on the other side is extremely probable, and it’s her turn to glare when you roll your eyes at her dramatics. Following her out to the living room, you plop down on the couch, watching her slowly creep to the front door. Both her hands find the blue painted wood pushing up on the toes of her Reeboks to look out the peephole.
“Steve?!” 
The name makes your stomach flip, a shaky breath pushing its way through watermelon flavored lips because you thought you had more time than this. Keeping a poker face, you take your time tying your laces as she swings the door open. Head down, your eyes keep their focus on how the dirty white strings move between your fingers. 
You’re not ready to look at him. Not yet.
“After taking you to school at 7am every day after I graduated, you really thought I was going to let you walk?” The smile in his voice is evident, a fond memory you’re not a part of but you can still feel the warmth inside it by the way he speaks. 
“Thank god,” she starts, the insinuation of the words that are going to follow making your eyes snap up, narrowed and shooting daggers at your best friend, catching Steve’s attention in the process. 
“We were going to be late.”
“Oh yeah?” He asks, his gaze claiming yours and holding it against your will, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his full lips and suddenly it’s so much warmer in her living room than it was two seconds ago. “Why’s that?”
He somehow looks even better than the last time you saw him, a bad habit you’re quickly learning that he has. The honey colored tips of his chestnut hair curl at the ends, sticking out of the sides of his backwards baseball hat. A well worn black cotton shirt with the sleeves cut out has the arms that you’d dreamt about on full display. The summer sun somehow dotting even more freckles across his shoulder blades that flex everytime he spins his car keys around his finger. The dark cherry red basketball shorts he wears hit the bottoms of his hairy thighs, the red mesh even more vibrant against his tan skin, just like the white leather of the Nike Cortez’s that cover his feet. 
“She’s just being dramatic,” you grumble, finally tearing your eyes from the dark moss that covers the chocolate inside his, doing your best to ignore the heat of them wandering the bare skin of your legs as you finish tying your shoes.
“You changed your outfit like sixty times!” 
This is the moment that you decide you’re going to kill Robin in her sleep tonight.
“Well, I’m ready so you both can stop being annoying now.” Standing, you tug down the bottom of your skirt that suddenly feels even shorter with his full attention on you like this.
“Wait, why am I annoying? I just got here.” Steve argues when your words finally sink in, snapping him out of his daze, catching the keys in his palm. 
“You’re always annoying, Harrington,” you sigh, hoping your deflections are working, but the small smile that never leaves his lips tells you it’s not.
“Shotgun!” Robin calls out like it’s something you would have argued over. Your shoulder brushes with his as you push your way out the door, sending sparks to the tips of your fingers and making your hair stand on end. Steve and the summer heat warm your skin. 
“It’s all yours,” you concede with ease, ignoring the butterfly wings that wreak havoc in your rib cage when the spice of his cologne makes its way into your nose.
It was going to be a night.
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Steve keeps the windows rolled down, the muggy air making your bare thighs stick together and to the hot leather of his backseat. It drowns out the music as he speeds down the back roads, making the conversation between him and Robin upfront almost inaudible.
You don’t worry about what they might be saying, not even when they both start gesturing wildly with their hands. Taking advantage of the time left alone, you put all of your focus into preparing yourself for the next few hours, doing your best to push the lingering thoughts of your dream deep down to a place that no one can find. A task that proves to be much harder while avoiding his gaze that dares you to meet it in the rear view mirror the entire way. 
The memories you have of the back of his car don’t help either.
Pulling into Forest Hills trailer park, you’re surprised at the facelift they finally gave it after all these years. Lush green grass grows where the yellow and brown shrub used to be, and a wooden gazebo that looks like it’s missing a finishing coat stands tall, replacing the picnic table where you and the metal head used to smoke. Even the gravel that paves the road looks new and gray, not the dirt brown mud that it used to be. 
It’s still a struggle to wrap your head around the fact that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, the former king of Hawkin’s and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson not only work together, but live together too. You would have laughed in anyone’s face if they told you this five years ago. 
The BMW’s tires crunch loudly against the rocks as Steve pulls into the driveway of a hunter green trailer. It sits in the back of the park, almost touching the edge of the woods behind it. A faded white line running along the length that matches the metal railing of their front entrance and the overhang that covers it. The paint peels from parts of the metal in the heat, revealing spots of the gray hidden underneath. A worn in deep maroon couch sits on the porch just like the dirty brown one at Wayne’s trailer, and you already know Eddie spends his mornings there. You internally groan when you catch yourself wondering if Steve does too.
“Home sweet home,” he hums, cutting the engine off and pulling you out of your thoughts. 
You dare to meet his eyes for the first time since you left the apartment when Robin jumps out of the front seat, and you immediately regret it. He smiles wide, finally catching your attention, those perfect white teeth baring themselves at you as he pulls off his hat to run a hand through his sweaty bed head. The long strand he’s always at battle with falls through the opening in the back when he puts it on again, because, of course it does.
“Good to see you finally slumming it with the rest of us, King Steve,” you snort, pulling on the handle to let yourself out, ending any chance of conversation.
If it wasn’t for your Eddie barreling out of the front door to greet you and Robin with a big dimpled grin and a freshly rolled joint, you would’ve thought a little harder about the way Steve winced at the nickname.
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The Munson/Harrington Bachelor pad anomaly isn’t exactly what you expected it to be, but even then you weren’t entirely sure what that was. It’s cozy just like how Wayne’s used to be but where there’s hand me downs that have been through the short line of Munson men’s hands, there’s an equal amount of obviously perfectly well kept new. Like the shiny big TV in the center of their living room, and the well-loved lazy boy in front of it, that still had cigarette burns from its previous owner, next to the rich tan leather couch right by it.
It smells like it has just been cleaned, a sanitizing lilac still lingering in the air, trying its best to cover the smell of all grease stained clothing in their hampers and the smoke from joints like the one Eddie’s about to put out in an ashtray full of ones just like it.
He sits at the head of the table with a lopsided grin that pushes up the apples of his cheeks and reveals the deep dimples in the center of them. Droopy lids frame his bloodshot eyes that meet your own. Orange and pinks paint the darkening sky through the sliding glass door behind him. 
“I still can’t believe you’re actually here,” Eddie chuckles with a fond glint in big brown eyes leaning back in his chair that squeaks under the redistribution of his weight.
“Back by popular demand,” you smirk, pointing at Robin, who sits just on the other side of the table, glassy eyed with an unwavering smile. 
You try to ignore how the empty chair next to her bothers you, or they way your eyes keep looking toward the kitchen through the small opening of their little island, giving you the perfect view of Steve prepping dinner. His thick eyebrows are furrowed as he digs through spice racks and drawers, front teeth digging into the plushness of his bottom lip deep in thought.
“I think this calls for a fire,” Eddie announces loudly, bringing you back to the conversation with a slap of his palms on the wood of the table and the kind of smirk that tells you that you’ve been caught.
“We told Janice next door weekends only after last time,” Steve’s voice startles you, making his presence known, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. 
“It’s Thursday. Practically the weekend. Besides it’s a special occasion, look who’s here Stevie boy.” Something in Eddie’s tone makes Steve’s eyes narrow in a silent threat that only makes the metal heads' lips twist up into something more devilish. 
“You have to put it out before bed then, I’m not dealing with it like last time.” Steve accepts defeat quicker than anticipated, “And if she calls or comes over to complain at all, that's all on you too.”
”Deal,” Eddie agrees with five fingers across his heart, the silver of his rings catching in the low light of their trailer.“I think she’s got a crush on me anyway.”
“She’s married,” Steve dead pans with a deep sigh, taking his hat off to run another hand through his hair and you hate the way it has your thighs meeting under the table. “Who’s helping me with dinner then?”
He knows better than to look at you, so his gaze falls onto his roommate and best friend.
”Don’t look at me!” Robin argues, raising her right hand to show off the faded scar on her palm. “Last time I tried to help, I had to get stitches, remember?”
”The fire’s a full time job I’m afraid,” Eddie shrugs, standing up. Not missing a beat, they both look at each other like they're in on some secret that you and Steve aren’t apart of before their eyes land on you.
”You know I’m not a good cook,” you whine, refusing to meet the heat of Steve’s stare that burns against the side of your face.
”I’m sure Steve’s more than willing to help teach you, princess.” Eddie grins, and it makes you want to slap the dimples clean off his face.
“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I can do it by myself,” Steve interjects with a sigh before you have a chance to respond with something that he knows will just egg the metal head on and get his ego even more bruised.
He’s not expecting the way your eyes snap to his, or the way they narrow with something fiery deep inside them.
”We’re grown adults, Steve. I think I can handle helping you cut some vegetables or whatever it is you need me to do.” Standing up with a shove of your chair, he doesn’t even attempt to argue about how that’s the exact opposite of what you just said.
”There we go! Problem solved.” Eddie’s grin is mischievous, and so is the wink he throws at his roommate before opening the sliding glass door, ushering Robin out and leaving you both alone.
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The tension inside the kitchen hangs thicker in the air than the humidity outside weighing down your shoulders, making the words stick in the back of your throat as you try to navigate the close proximity to Steve. Neither one of you is sure of what to say first, and the sound of Eddie and Robin laughing outside filling the silence between you somehow makes it worse. 
The weed twists the knots in your stomach tighter, and the cedar that always seems to linger whenever he’s around turns suffocating without an escape. You lean against the sink across from him while he digs through the icebox in the fridge. Shoulder blades moving with the motions of his wrist, plastic crinkling loudly every time he moves a bag out of the way. Muttering to himself, you watch goosebumps rise on his tan skin from the cool air, muscles twitching from the shock.
This was a mistake. 
Biting the inside of your cheek, you tear your eyes away in hopes it will stop the dull ache between your legs from getting worse when you’re brought back to the way those same arms caged you in while his hips pushed you deeper into the mattress in your dreams last night. Looking out the small window at the beginning flames of the bonfire, a shaky breath pushes past your glossed lips, and you wipe your palms on your skirt before turning around to wash your hands.
”You don’t have to help, you know?” His voice comes out just loud enough for you to hear over the running water, the small smacking sound of the fridge closing behind it, “If you’re that uncomfortable, I can do it.”
Cutting the water, you shake your hands in the sink before tearing off a paper towel from the roll next to you. Working up enough courage to finally turn around to look at him, you finish drying your hands with a softer expression.
”No, I can help.” 
He holds your stare, silently giving you another out while his fingers make quick work of unwrapping a head of lettuce, an onion, and a few peppers from their plastic confines. No matter how much you want to look away, you don’t, standing firm in your choice despite everything inside of you screaming to run away, and it’s enough for him to nod his head. The slight twitch of his lips while he rolls the bags in his hands doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I just need you to cut the onion into thin slices for the burgers, and same with the jalapeños.” He instructs, turning his back to you to throw away the wrappings. 
The sudden movement has the deep cut sleeves of his shirt fluttering open, giving you a glimpse of the thick patch of hair on his chest, and how it tapers off and down past his belly button. Your thighs find each other again, and you look up to the ceiling silently, trying to regain all the strength you thought you’d just found. 
“And the lettuce - uhh, are you okay?” Steve’s confusion makes all the blood in your body rush to the apples of your cheeks as you try to hide your internal struggle with a smile.
“Yeah, we’re good. Never been better. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you ramble, brushing past him to the station he’s set up for you.
“…Right,” he starts with a pause before choosing to leave it alone, “I just need you to kind of rip the lettuce up, you can cut it if you want but I think bigger pieces would be better.”
You aren’t expecting his voice to come from right behind you, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against the back of your neck. Your own goosebumps rise, dotting across exposed skin and you hope he doesn’t notice but the way he lingers in your space for a little longer despite the nod of your head makes you think otherwise. The spice of his cologne grows faint along with his footsteps against the tile floor, finding a home on the other side of the kitchen, busying himself with what he had started before.
Eddie turns on the radio, easing some of the tension from your muscles, and relaxing your shoulders as you get a good grip on the handle of the knife.
You could do this, easy. 
You really start to believe it too when you cut all the jalapeños, even humming along to an old Judas Priest song that you and Eddie used to blast in his van after school. Peeling the onion, you pretend that you don’t see the reflection of Steve staring at you from the glass of the microwave as you sway your hips and bop your head to the beat.
“So, New York huh?” He finally breaks, and your eyes flutter to the reflection to see him putting away all the spices he’d pulled out while you were smoking. “You likin’ it?”
Your movements freeze for a second, and your tongue feels heavy in your mouth with all the things you’ve dreamed of saying to him. Years of coming up with all the ways you’d tell him how much better you were without him. A recurring fantasy of a ten year reunion where you’d show up with your famous screenwriter husband you’d met on the Subway, turning your nose at him and whatever Hawkin’s girl he’d managed to knock up. But instead, the universe has you here five years too early, and Steve isn’t the same guy you’d left even if you don’t quite trust it yet.
Picking up the knife again, you roll your shoulders with a quiet breath before cutting into the onion once more as you search for the words to answer.
“Yeah, I like it. It’s big and it can be a little scary sometimes but I can be myself there,” it comes out a little quieter than intended but you still twist your hips to meet his gaze from across the kitchen where he stands with crossed arms giving you his full attention. “No one really cares what you do.”
“Who are you trying to be out there?” He asks like he has no idea what small talk is, the greens in his eyes shimmering against the last bit of sunlight that shines on his face.
“Someone stronger than who I was in high school,” you whisper, turning back around to focus on the task at hand and not your ex trying to dig into the depths of your soul while you cut onions.
“You were always the strongest person I knew,” he counters, and you can practically hear the shrug that you know follows his words.
”You certainly liked to test it.” 
It comes out before you can bite your tongue, your knife slicing right into the center of the onion and hitting the cutting board roughly, adding dramatic effect.
”Ouch,” he hums with a small laugh, silverware clanking against the metal of the sink behind you as he finishes cleaning up his mess, “I guess I deserved that one.”
“Steve.” You stop cutting, dropping the knife to look at him, unintentionally swiping your eye in the process, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that. I promised Rob- oh fuck!”
The burning in your right eye becomes unbearable, the tears spilling freely down your cheek blurring your vision with a harsh sting.
”Oh, oh no. Did you touch your eye?!” Steve sounds panicked, sneakers scuffling against the tile as he hurries to grab a washcloth from the drawer. 
“It was an accident!” You whine, closing your eyes as tight as you can, willing the burning tears to stop, the sound of water running from the sink filling your ears, “God it hurts so bad, Steve.”
”I know baby, I know,” he coos in a soothing voice, and in your panic you almost don’t catch the old nickname that slips off his tongue with ease. Long fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer to him, “Let me see, stay still.”
The coolness of the rag provides instant relief when he presses it gently to your eye. Taking a deep breath, you feel the warmth of his palm rub up and down your arm soothing your irritated nerves more. The sting doesn’t fully go away, but it subsides enough for the tears to slow down as he applies a little more pressure before removing it to wet it again. Blinking past the burning, you finally realize just how close you are to him now. 
Chests practically touching, you can see the beginnings of stubble lining his jaw despite being able to tell that he shaved today. The vampire bites on his neck that used to be your favorite to kiss taunt you for what feels like the millionth time this week. With cedar and musk filling your lungs, it feels impossible to breathe.
He cuts off the water, turning towards you again, and you aren’t prepared for the depth in his eyes meeting yours from this distance. They’re soft when they look at you, the chestnut inside them warming gold as you stare back at him a little dazed. Calloused fingertips stop their path up your arm to gently grab your chin, tilting your face up to his so he can get a better look at the damage. He’s sweet with the way moves your head around, the pad of his thumb smoothing the skin under your irritated eye.
”I think you’ll be okay, I don’t see any seeds or anything trapped inside,” he whispers, thumb never stopping its movements while his gaze flicks down to your lips that pout on their own, something electric charging in the air.
The sliding glass door opens behind him before you can answer, Robin and Eddie making their presence known in a loud burst of energy. Snatching the wet rag from his hand, you’re quick to put distance between you. Placing the cool cloth against your face, you make your way out of the kitchen before anyone can ask you anything about what happened. Muttering a “thanks Steve '' on your way to assess just how ruined your makeup is in the bathroom. 
Your heart pounds in your ears feeling the ghost of his touch everywhere, chest tightening because your body won’t stop screaming for more.
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You stay in the bathroom long enough for the burning to subside, mumbling words that resemble some kind of pep talk while scrubbing your hands. Fingers that still shake with nerves fix your smudged mascara, listening for the moment their voices go quiet behind the sliding glass door before you decide to finally venture out. The sound of Steve’s laugh catches in your ears, as you make your way through the empty trailer, the corners of your lips curling on their own as you tug on the handle that separates you from them. The humidity is quick to turn your skin sticky despite the sun disappearing behind the trees. 
”There she is! I heard Harrington tried to blind you,” Eddie chuckles from his place crouched in front of the fire. A half smoked cigarette dangling lazily from the side of his mouth as he ‘stokes’ the flames, the crackling wood competing with the buzz of the cicadas that surround you.
”Riddle me this, Steve, why is it that whenever someone ’helps’ you cook, they end up in the hospital or worse, almost BLIND!” 
From her spot sitting on one of the many faded red plastic lawn chairs they have circled around the pit, Robin doesn’t hesitate to turn it into a dog pile with dramatics that could rival an Oscar winning actress.
Steve rolls his eyes, the warm light from the smaller flame of the grill glowing underneath him, highlighting his sharp features. His gaze meets yours, ignoring his friends, and you swear even from here, you can see the green inside each eye shine. You know there’s a million questions he wants to ask but there’s only one that comes out, and it’s soft just like the way he touched you inside.
”Are you okay?”
It’s hard for you to look anywhere but his face, remembering just how pretty it was up close. Your eyes trace the straight line of his nose, and the curve of his full bottom lip before finally meeting his eyes. The small smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth reminds you that you haven’t answered him yet but he doesn’t say anything. He lets Robin’s low whistle do all the talking.
”Uhh, yeah, I’m good. Crisis averted,” you mumble, snapping out of it, cheeks warming up enough to compete with the fire pit you stumble around, landing in the seat next to your best friend. “No jalapenos on mine, I think I’ve had enough for today.”
Steve laughs again, just like the one you heard on your way out and the sound burrows in your heart, making it swell, giddiness roiling deep in your gut. You ignore Robin’s obnoxious toothy grin next to you, doubling down even more when she starts to wiggle her eyebrows. The two beer cans at her feet tell you everything you need to know.
Without a cloud in an almost completely dark sky, you start to see the twinkling of the stars you’ll always miss begin to appear. They battle for your attention against the fireflies that flicker through the tall grass and into the woods. Lighter fluid stings your nose when Steve squirts more onto the burning coals, switching from hot dogs to burgers like he’s been grilling for a family of four his whole life.
A couple of beers calm your nerves that threaten to give you away, watching Steve in his element like this, the holes cut in his shirt showing off every flex of his muscles as he flips the patties. Cheese melting over the burger meat, just like your body that sinks further into the lawn chair that sticks to the backs of your thighs. He throws you a knowing look, making you clear your throat. Straightening your posture, you try to join in Robin and Eddie’s conversation like you hadn’t just been caught. Taking another long swig of the bitter semi cold liquid, you hope it’s enough to get you through dinner.
It’s not.
Steve takes the seat across from you when he’s finished cooking, manspreading with his paper plate in his lap. You fight the urge to look at the tan line of his inner thighs that are revealed by his loose fitting shorts, laughing a little too loud at Eddie’s jokes, desperate to keep your struggle hidden. Even going as far as acting interested when Robin starts talking about her reasons why she likes to buy certain things from the three different grocery stores in town. 
It’s when a dribble of ketchup lands on top of Steve's hand after a large bite that you lose your cool. Right between his thumb and index finger, he hums with cheeks full of food before those full lips of his wrap around the spilled sauce, cleaning it with a flick of his tongue.
”I’m gonna throw my plate away, is anyone else done?” You squeak, standing up abruptly, your chair nearly falling backwards in the process. 
“Jesus, easy tiger,” Eddie snorts, finishing off the last of his beer before crushing the tin can in his hand, tossing it on his empty plate, “The trash isn’t going anywhere.”
“Just trying to be a good house guest is all,” you lie, making Eddie quirk an eyebrow, the dimples in his cheeks coming out to play again.
”Uh huh.” He smirks before handing you his plate that Robin quickly piles hers on top of. “Sure.”
”That’s very sweet of you,” Steve chimes in, with a lopsided grin on his face that makes you want to punch the air and get out of here. 
“She’s pure class Harrington, get it right,” Robin comes for the save with a knowing wink that only makes the heat growing in your cheeks worse.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble quickly turning on your heel, feeling all their eyes on you as you make your way to the back door of the trailer.
”Hurry back. We're gonna play Never Have I Ever,” your best friend calls out over her shoulder making you wish you could just stay inside when the sliding glass door closes behind you.
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Embers spark and pop from the fire before they disappear into the night sky, the full moon’s white glow stopping just along the dark edges of the trees that surround the backyard. The four of you sit around the pit with fresh beers in hand. The buzz of the alcohol turning Steve’s gaze heavy as he stares at you from across the flickering flames. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth you look everywhere but his direction, and hope he doesn’t see the way your thighs press under the heat of it.
“Are you sure this is a good idea Robin?” Eddie whispers, big brown eyes glancing between the both of you, and your bouncing knee.
”It’s fine, they’ll be fine. Right guys?” She waves the metal head off, nudging you with her elbow, completely unphased.
”Of course we’ll be fine, why wouldn’t we be fine?” You snap, tugging the bottom of your skirt down, all the built up tension turning into aggression. Steve smiles into his next gulp.
“Whoa, whoa. I was just asking, but you do seem a little tense.” She raises her hands in surrender, both her eyebrows disappearing behind her shaggy bangs while Eddie distracts himself by poking the fire.
“Relax, it’s just a game,” Steve sighs, settling deeper in his chair, the warm amber in the flames bouncing off the mischievous gold in his eyes that keep their hold on you. “Besides, we’re friends now, right?”
Your gaze narrows, the grip on your beer tightening enough to hear the pop of the metal.“Yep,” you manage to get out, shooting Eddie a glare when he snorts.
“If you guys say so,” he starts, ignoring your scowl while getting cut off by Robin who’s practically vibrating in her seat now.
”Let’s have fun already. I’ll start.” Robin shushes him before acting like she’s deep in thought, turning to face you with the kind of grin on her face that tells you she’s up to no good, “Never have I ever…let some Wall Street douchebag go down on me in the backseat of his Rolls Royce.”
“That’s weirdly specific- oh wait! Damn! Princess!” Eddie whoops when you take a swig with a roll of your eyes, flipping Robin the bird. 
“Gotta try everything once, right?” You shrug, holding his gaze with a smirk, not even trying to hide that you’re taking great pleasure in the way Steve’s jaw clenches at the new found information of your life outside of here. “He had a nice mouth when he wasn’t using it for talking.”
Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, the mossy greens in his eyes turning dark as you lean back in your chair smugly.
“She’s a wild one, I’ll tell ya,” Robin giggles fondly, passing the baton to you with a proud smile.
Maybe it was the beer or the incessant way Steve’s presence drove you to the brink of insanity by rageful lust. Or even just the way he sat across from you with his legs spread wide like he ruled the world, whatever it was, that's what’s to blame for the question that rolls off your tongue.
“Never have I ever taken someone’s virginity.”
Robin’s jaw drops, guffawing with a harsh slap on your leg, mouthing a ‘you said you’d be nice’ but the buzz of the alcohol keeps a lopsided grin on her face. Eddie drinks, nervously watching the staring contest going on between you and Steve. Like a dog and its owner trying to establish dominance, both of you refuse to be the one who looks away first. Taking two gulps for good measure, he smacks his lips loudly when he’s done, wiping the foam off his upper lip with the back of his wrist. Raising his eyebrows at you in a silent challenge.
“This isn’t awkward at all,” Eddie grumbles, taking another sip of his beer to help the uncomfortable tension that threatens to settle over the circle.
”Who’s next? Who's next?” Robin urges with a flick on your knee, forcing you to fold and give her your attention with a blink of your eyes and it feels like the first time in hours that you finally look at someone other than Steve. 
Your teeth clench, grinding at the thought that even after all this time he’s still got this kind of hold on you, and it has you riding the thin line between wanting to give him a black eye or have him take you for a spin in his beemer for old times sake. 
“Eddie,” raising your can in his direction, he meets you in the middle with a cheers that doesn’t quite touch before slinking back in his chair with an exhausted huff.
“Hmmm, what do I want to reveal about myself?” He hums deep in thought, metal rings clinking against tin in a familiar tune as he taps his fingers around his beer can, “Never have I ever… been in a threesome, despite being titled ‘freak’ of Hawkins.”
“Really?” Robin seems genuinely shocked, making you giggle.
“Yeah, I know. It’s crazy to me too.” Eddie shrugs, with a knowing grin that doesn’t quite sit right in your gut.
That’s when you see it. Steve taking a drink.
”WHAT?!” Your best friend squeals practically jumping from her seat, clearly something that's not common knowledge being revealed.
Jealousy is an ugly monster, and it finds a home deep inside your chest tonight, turning you green with it. Your half empty beer can crunches the more your fingers dig into the tin, eyes narrowing when he just responds to Robin with a coy smirk and a shrug bringing his attention back to you.
”Gotta try everything once right?” Steve mocks, full pink lips curling up at the corners as he takes another sip.
Your heart sinks with your stomach, the muscles in your face doing the same before you have a chance to stop it. Visions of red nails and pink lips that don’t belong to you dance through your head, and the smug smirk he probably wore while his big hands gripped their hips taking turns making them moan his name. The sound of your can completely collapsing in a loud crunch gets everyone’s attention, and you ignore the softened expression on Steve’s face trying to capture your gaze again. Eddie clears his throat, throwing you a life line before opening a new can of beer with a suggestion you’ve never been more grateful for.
”Alright Steve, your turn.” 
Steve nods with a tight lipped smile taking one last glance in your direction before sitting up in his chair with an idea that makes his cheeks push up and his eyes sparkle against the light of the fire. “Alright, never have I ever pretended to not only have a driver's license but also own a car that actually belongs to my best friend so I can hook up with a girl in the backseat.”
A quiet sigh escapes your lungs, shoulders relaxing just a little when Robin groans loudly at the attack that’s clearly focused on her. Oblivious to the fact that you’re hanging on by a thread next to her, you stare fixed on the way the flames lick up into the night. 
“Look, she was a college senior, okay? I was only a sophomore and she was way cooler than me. Judge me all you want, but it worked didn’t it?” She argues, lifting her beer to the sky before taking a sip proudly. “No regrets!”
Her smile is contagious, easing some of the tension when you and Eddie giggle meeting each other's eyes from across her honey blond waves. You can feel Steve’s stare burning a hole in the side of your head, the heat of it in direct competition with the fire that thrives off the light breeze that rustles through the trees. 
“Aright, alright, never have I ever faked getting off.” She wiggles her eyebrows with a toothy grin, looking at Eddie specifically who gives her a dead stare in response, clearly something told to her in confidence. 
Biting your lip, you really weren’t going to add more fuel to the fire but when you finally meet Steve’s eyes that have been begging for your attention this whole time, you can’t help but douse the flames with the whole can of gasoline. Another flash of different shades of lipstick staining the freckles you loved to kiss so much sending another wave of rage down to your core.
”I can think of a few times.” You snort loudly, holding his gaze and pointedly stealing everyone else's attention before polishing off the last of your crumpled can.
Steve’s jaw clenches hard enough that you swear you can hear his teeth crunch together. Nostrils flaring with a gaze so dark it threatens to swallow you whole, all traces of honey and warmth gone, leaving you chilled to the bone.
”I think we’re done with this game Robin,” he grunts, standing up with a kick of his chair and for once his eyes don’t search for yours as he stomps across the yard towards the yellow light of the trailer. 
“Seriously!” Your best friend groans, slinking back in her chair with a hand running down her face, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
”Yeah, genius! I told you, but nooo, you didn’t want to listen to me.” Eddie scoffs into his beer can, using his free hand to poke at the fire.
”Can you go, like, talk to him or something?” Robin turns to you with an almost pleading look that gets more prominent the more your face turns sour.
“Me?! I have to go talk to him? Seriously? He’s the one who stormed off,” you argue, crossing your arms.
”Yeah, well you clearly hurt his feelings.” She points at his pacing figure through the kitchen window and it takes everything inside of you not to tell her that he hurt yours first.
The two of you stare each other down, the wills of stubbornness at battle until her eyes go soft, big and glassy. 
“Please,” she begs, pulling out the big guns, and jutting out her bottom lip.
You hold her gaze for a few more seconds before surrendering with a roll of your eyes, huffing loudly when you uncross your arms to stand up, making her face light back up.
”I hate you. More than anything.”
Eddie cackles loudly at your lie, digging in his front pocket for a smushed pack of cigarettes.
“We all know you don’t mean that,” she hums with a content smile, leaning over to snatch the freshly lit tobacco from the metalhead’s mouth, waving at you as you start to follow Steve’s path up to the trailer. “Please don’t kill him!”
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Closing the sliding glass door behind you, a shiver runs up your spine when the coolness of the air conditioning hits your sticky skin. The sound of running water catches in your ears from the kitchen along with the murmur of his voice under its rush.You can’t quite make out what he’s saying to himself, even when you reach the doorway. 
Hunched over the sink, his shoulder blades flex with every harsh scrub of the pan. His hat rests on the counter, and you can’t help but notice the wild way his hair sits on the top of his head from wearing it all day, sun kissed tips curling from the humidity. Clearing your throat just loud enough to alert him of your presence, you watch the way his whole body goes rigid. It only lasts for a moment before he recovers, shutting off the water with a lazy slap of his hand. Turning around he grabs the dish towel next to him to dry off, meeting your gaze with a little more color in his eyes, flecks of gold trying to shimmer in a raging storm.
Having his full attention on you, alone like this, is enough for your tongue to go numb. The back of your throat turns into sandpaper, making it impossible for words to find their way out. A big hand runs through his hair, fingers getting caught on a knot at the end that he works out with ease, a gentle sigh deflating his defensive chest just a little before he speaks.
“Hey.” 
Anger still boils under all of the attraction, along with the jealousy you aren’t willing to acknowledge.You aren’t ready. You can’t do this yet.
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” you excuse yourself, turning on your heel and leaving just as quickly as you arrived.
You ignore the way he calls after you, seeking solace in the place that's become your hiding spot for the night. Fingers wrap around the handle to the familiar room, you stop in your tracks when a warm patch of light leaking out from a crack in a door that wasn’t opened before catches your attention. 
You can smell the cedar from here.
Glancing over your shoulder to see if he followed you, it changes the course of your direction when you discover that he didn’t. Taking a few steps across the hallway, you’re careful not to let the hinges creak when you push his bedroom door open a little more. Your senses quickly become overwhelmed with everything that makes Steve, Steve. You throw another cautious look down the hallway before crossing the invisible line. Closing the door like how you found it, you let your curiosity get the best of you. 
It’s cleaner than you thought it’d be now that he doesn’t live inside the Harrington’s massive house anymore. His bed is bigger, the twin sized mattress that you used to squeeze into traded in for a queen. The navy blue comforter that looks soft to the touch is laid out messy on white sheets, a digital clock with glaring red numbers that read 10:30 pm on the nightstand next to it. 
The carpet under your feet is a heather gray, and you can tell that it’s scratchy even with your shoes on. Patrick Swayze watches your every move from the Roadhouse poster hanging on his wall, the floor creaking as you make your way toward the small work desk in the corner. Your eyes linger on the impressive way all his dirty clothes manage to be in his hamper before they find the framed pictures spread over his desk. 
There’s one of him with the middle school boy you knew as Dustin Henderson perched on his back, only he looks much older than you remembered. The curls still give him away despite the braces free smile. Both of them grin hard enough for their eyes to crinkle in the corners like they had finally stopped laughing long enough for someone to snap this picture. 
You fight back the way your cheeks threaten to push up, not surprised to find one of him and Robin at what looks like Lover’s Lake, both of them striking the same pose with inflatable tubes around their waists wearing matching bucket hats and sunglasses.
The guy in these photos doesn’t seem anything like the one you remember and it’s hard for you to wrap your head around it. They look the same.
”I don’t think this is the bathroom, do you?” Steve’s voice makes you jump, heart stopping in your chest for a split second before you meet his questioning stare with a guilty face of your own. 
His arms are crossed over his chest as leans against the door frame, unintentionally pulling the collar of his shirt down giving you a glimpse of the patch of hair and the gold chain underneath. The softness in his eyes from the kitchen is gone as he stares you down, it’s replaced with something you can’t quite put your finger on but the intensity of it raking over your body has your thighs meeting for what feels like the millionth time tonight. His full pink lips twist into a sarcastic smirk as he pushes off the wood, taking the next few steps into his room.
”Did you really mean what you said out there?” He questions, dark eyes sparkling the more you squirm under the heat of them.
”Mean what? I said a lot of things out there. We all did.” Narrowing your gaze, you try to take back some semblance of control, squaring up your shoulders at him but the dark chuckle you get in response tells you it’s a futile attempt.
“I didn’t say anything about you specifically though, did I?” Steve counters, stopping just a few feet away from you, tongue poking at the side of his cheek, “No, I don’t think I did.”
He hums, uncrossing his arms to mimic your stance in a silent challenge, eyebrows raised waiting on your response.
”I didn’t say anything about you specifically either.” Jutting out your chin in defiance, it's your turn to cross your arms now. Maturity at its finest.
He doesn’t answer you, instead he holds your eyes with his own and it takes everything inside of you not to look away. Your tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he starts to take a few steps closer, broad shoulders making the room feel small when the toes of his sneakers meet yours.
“I don’t think you ever faked anything with me.” He looks down his nose at you, smelling like summer nights and everything you’ve tried to forget.
”You think or you know?” Cocking a brow with a shit eating grin that tells him you aren’t going to fold easy, the backs of your thighs hit the edge of his desk. 
He sucks at his teeth, rolling his shoulders with the kind of laugh that makes the dull ache between your legs turn into a throb.
“I know. Trust me.” He smirks, gaze lingering where the soft dough of your thighs meet before finding your eyes again, “Guess what else I know?”
It's hard for you to catch your breath when he looks at you like this and you wonder if he notices the quick heaves of your chest or the way your eyes glaze over from being this close to him.
”W-what?” Your stutter gives you away, but at least you tried to fight one last time before he went in for the kill.
The whites of his teeth show in the kind of smile that tells you he was hoping you’d ask just that. Leaning in, his palms land on his desk finding purchase on either side of your hips, caging you in. He’s close enough for the tip of his nose to brush against yours, close enough to smell the wheat from his beer on the warm breath that fans against your lips. 
“You wouldn’t still look at me the way you do, if I hadn’t made you feel good honey. And you know what else?” 
His voice goes deep as he whispers, nose nudging at your cheek before his lips hover right by your ear making you shiver, goosebumps making their second appearance of the day. Your hands find the edge of his desk, chest brushing against his in a deep breath feeling the slightest touch of his lips against the soft spot right behind it.  
“I know I can make you cum harder with my tongue than some Wall Street asshole, who doesn’t even know what to do under the hood of that fancy car he spent so much money on.” His grip on the desk tightens at the thought, wood groaning under the stress of it and it has your thighs spreading for him on their own.
“Steve -”
His fingers grab your chin like at the shop with just a firm enough hold for you to pull away if you want to but you can’t bring yourself to do it when his eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You wonder if it's just a mirror reflection of your own as he takes some of the new space you’ve given him, so close now that you can feel the heat of his body where yours screams for him most. His brows furrow when your noses brush and he swears he can taste the watermelon of your lip gloss, and then he knows he can when he feels your fingers curl into his shirt tugging him closer.
“I think,” he breathes into your mouth, hesitating just enough to soak it in a second longer before pulling away with an almost pained expression that he quickly tries to cover up, “I think it’s time for me to take you and Robin home.”
He steps back and out of your space, a nervous hand running through his hair like he did something he wasn’t supposed to do. His eyes meet yours again and there's something apologetic that swirls in the deep forest that watches you tug your skirt down straightening up.
”I’ll uh, I’ll give you a minute while I go wrangle Robin.” 
He takes one last look at you like he really needs to be sure of something before finally walking out and leaving you alone to wonder how the night ended with you here. Skirt rucked up, trying to catch your breath in Steve Harrington’s room.
———-
🌻 beta’d by @superblysubpar
🌻 chapter three
753 notes · View notes
sonarspace · 7 days
Text
more than friends, suguru geto
a/n: happy late 420...not proofread cause its 1am so bare with me if there are any mistakes 💔 content: getting high (kinda?), smut (oral, fem recieving. sex. missionary? mating press? idk what else 😭). wc: 3.6k
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
you haven't seen him in two years. you had decided to go abroad to study for masters and stay there until you graduated. but your new home didn't feel like home because it didn't have him there. you've missed your friends especially suguru. he made everything feel better. you could get through anything as long as he was by your side.
between working and classes and the time difference you tried your best to stay in contact with him. he'd pick up your call any time of the day. hearing your voice was enough to make his day better. even a text from you would suffice. but when he didn't even get those, he'd be in a pissy mood. even more so when satoru would tease him "girlfriend didn't text you today, huh."
"shut up satoru. she's not my girlfriend." he fights back. oh how he wishes you were. so when you gave him the news that you were coming back he was elated. beyond elated actually. he immediately responds back asking for your flight details so he could pick you up. but you denied.
"i'll come over instead," you tell him on the phone flopping down on the couch with a smile you couldn't wipe off. you were thrilled at the prospect of being in his company once more. "i don't want our first meeting after two years to be in my airport clothes," you giggle. and he hums in thought. "okay, sweet cheeks. i'll see you then," and you could hear the joy in his voice as he hangs up the phone.
as your on your way to the airport you recieve a text from suguru.
⁞ suguru: change of plans, satoru's throwing a party, so we'll meet there. or do you wanna meet before and go over to his place?
⁞ you: why's satoru throwing a party?
↳ ⁞ suguru: because he's satoru.
↳ ⁞ you: makes sense.
⁞ you: don't think we'll be able to meet before the party. plane lands at 8 😿
↳ ⁞ suguru: i'll see you at the party then. have a safe flight, sweet cheeks 😸
as soon as you land, you grab a taxi and make your way to the hotel. you take a quick shower and change into a creamy ivory dress that hugs your body with thick straps adorning your shoulder. you take a look in the mirror before leaving and your cheeks are flushed at the thought of finally seeing him. luckily, satoru's location isn't too far from where you're staying so you grab a coat and walk to his place.
you buzz the doorbell once and then twice before satoru's presence graces you. he shouts your name in excitement and pulls you in for a tight long hug. as you hug him back you can't help but notice the smell of alchol and weed coming from inside.
he pulls back for a moment to admire you "i missed you," he murmurs as he places a sweet kiss on your forehead and hugs you once more. "missed you too satoru," you giggle trying to not get emotional.
"there's someone else who's missed you more than me though," he nudges your shoulder. "where is he?" you ask him. "come on," he shuts the door behind you but his penthouse is dark as you move in. he grabs your hand and pulls you in further. he flicks the light switch and you're met with a crowd yelling "surprise!"
you jump back and let out a laugh in shock. squealing as your closest friends make their way towards you. they all take turns hugging you and you're a blushing mess as he finally emerges from the crowd and comes over to you.
"hey," everything and everyone melts in the background. all you can see is him. his hair is longer as it drapes over his shoulder. his skin is covered in light facial hair. he seems taller. broader even. his eyes do a quick once over your figure.
"hi," you whisper feeling shy under his gaze. "no hug for me?" he teases. you laugh as you pull him in and he moves down to hug your shorter frame. your eyes close involuntarily as you hug him tight. you can feel the muscles he’s grown under his dress shirt. unable to control himself his nose pokes into your neck as he feels the familiarity of your smell wash over him. a mix of honey and cocoa butter. home sweet home, he thinks.
you finally break the hug and you feel everyone's gaze on the two of you. sure the two of you were not dating, but everyone knew you wanted each other. the tension between you two could be cut with a knife. you clear your throat as you look around, feeling a little awkward. it was so much easier when you talked on the phone, you think to yourself.
"want a drink?" he asks bringing you out of your thoughts. "yes, please."
"a margarita," you say together. "i remember," he smiles.
your social battery starts to drain as the night goes on and your friends ask you a ton of questions about your two yesrs abroad. suguru's leaning on a wall as he chats with nanami. his eyes kept finding their way back to you and yours to his. you looked an angel in the midst of everyone. all he could see was how the light on you shines brighter than everyone else.
"help me," you mouth to him when his eyes meet yours. he pushes off the wall and makes his way over to you, "excuse me everybody," he enunciates and breaks the circle of people surrounding you. "i think our guest is tired from her long flight, so i'm going to drop her off," he annouces as he grabs your hand.
you're not sure if its the little bit of alcholic coursing through you but his touch feels electric. a blush creeps up your neck as you he grabs your hand and pulls you through "you're just saying that because you want her all to your self." shoko speaks up. you chuckle as he rolls his eyes as he makes a face at shoko.
"want the last brownie?" satoru offers with a sly grin as you reach the door. "sure, im starving". you say. "aw shucks there's only one left," satoru fake pouts. "i'm good," suguru comments.
you break it in half and offer it to suguru "no, it's okay." he says but you push the half into his hand anyway. satoru gives you a quick hug and whispers "it's an edible". you gasp and pull away. "SATORU GOJO! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT BEFORE I ATE IT." you almost scream with annoyance.
"it's not strong, don't worry." he puts his hand up in defense. "it's an edible," you turn to suguru frustrated. "satoru, what the fuck?" suguru sighs. "you both seem nervous, it'll just help you feel better. plus it doesn't even have the same effect since you both halved it."
an annoyed pout makes it way on your face and suguru punches satoru in the arm in your defence. "you fucked up her mood, dipshit." however that stupid smile doesn't leave satoru's face, "you'll thank me later." he says as he bids you both goodbye.
"you've never had an edible before," suguru asks as you both walk out of the building. "no, how does it feel like?" you huff. "well it depends on the person. it could make you feel happy, hungry, sleepy, peaceful, or even horny. heh. but don't worry. i don't think it'll have the same effect on us cause we didn't take that much." he side eyes you.
you continue walking with a bit of distance between the two of you. it wasn’t like that before you purse your lips in thought. "look," he points. "it's your favorite." your eyes follow where he's pointing and you spot a stall selling yakitori. "wanna get some?" he offers. "yessss, please" you chirp excitedly. you sit on a bench across the stall as suguru grabs you a plate and two water bottles. "to sober up," he says as he places them near you.
you quickly down two sticks and suguru stares at you in quiet amazement. he couldn't believe you were here. sitting next to him and eating yakitori so joyfully. "you look beautiful," the words flow out of his mouth before he can stop himself. you choke on a bite as his words catch you off guard. "woah," he chuckles quietly as you cough multiple times and gain back your composure. "note to self to not compliment you while you're eating or i could end up killing you," he jokes making you laugh. "shut up," you meek out through your fit of laughter.
you turn on your side to face him, "you look really... really..." you're at a loss for words. "wow, thanks for the compliment sweet cheeks," he mocks. "nooo, you just look really really good, can't think of enough words. it's the weed making my brain fuzzy." and he guffaws.
"that's not how it works..."
"does so,"
"no it doesn't"
"how would you know?"
"it's only been thirty minutes... it needs an hour to take effect."
"maybe this one's just more powerful," you argue back with a cute scowl.
"whatever you say dummy," he smiles as he pats your head and stands up to throw the plates.
you walk side by side and with every step he moves in closer. your pinkies tangle with each other and he takes it as his sign to intertwine your hands. his hand grasping yours has a sensation build deep in your stomach. his thumb moves over the back of your hand in a soothing manner and a need for something more alerts in your brain.
"i really missed you," you break the silence as you near your hotel. he turns his face to meet your gaze, "i missed you, too”.
you stop walking and face each other. a smile creeps up his face. "what?" you squint at him. "can i kiss you?" you knew the question was coming but you're still taken aback. "yes,” you snicker.
his lips capture yours as soon the words are out of your mouth. the kiss is soft and sweet like holding a petal in your hand. your plush lips in between his. and it feels just like he thought it would. your hand moves over his shoulders pulling him in closer. he hums into your mouth as he pushes you to a wall. his tongue licks over your lips asking for permission and you part them. his tongue traces over yours trying to memorize the way your first kiss feels, the way you taste of alcohol and street food. so perfectly you.
he pulls back and you're both breathing heavily. a carnal need evident in both your eyes. "come on," you grasp his hand and lead him inside the hotel and to the elevator. his arms snake around your waist and he peppers your neck in kisses. the elevator dings and you quickly move in.
as soon as the elevator door closes his hands are on you pulling you in closer and moving his lips over your neck and collarbones. a kiss on your throat as he brings his lips up to yours. his hand moves up under your jaw, his finger brushing your cheek softly as he kisses you harder now and you whine into his mouth.
the elevator opens on your floor and you push him away stopping his lingering hands from making its way to your panties. you giggle as you walk backwards to your room, the sound echoing off the walls of the hallway. he follows with a smile plastered over his face. his heart swells with love for you just as a flower blooms after a rainy day.
you open the door and slip in and he locks the door behind him. your elbows support your body as you lean back on the bed with your feet crossed and dangling in front him.
he tries to move in close but you stop him with your heel pressing into his chest. your dress moves higher and his breath hitches as he notices your white lace panties. his hand wraps around your leg and fingers lightly scratch your thigh. he undoes the straps of your heels and presses a kiss on your ankle as he puts it down and gets on his knees. he removes the heels off of your second foot.
and peppers your legs with kisses. his eyes on you the entire time. his hands slide further up your legs and under your dress. "suguru," you whisper. "yes, baby," he hums grinning at your neediness when you pull him in closer with your legs.
"don't tease," you sneer at him. he chuckles in return, "did the guys back there not keep you satisfied?"
"did the girls here not keep you satisfied, suguru?" you tilt your head and the way you purr his name has blood rushing to his dick. he shakes his head, "no one comes close to you". he holds your eyes "no one ever will".
your cheeks heat up from the way he eyes you and you look away. "now now.." he grabs your chin, "give me a kiss and i'll make you feel incredible." you lean in and give him a long kiss. your hands hold his face as you suck his tongue into your mouth and he buckles forward with a whimper. you pull back with a smug smile.
he grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulders getting comfortable between your legs. his mouth colors your thighs in red bite marks. his gaze is unwavering as his mouth moves closer to where you need him. he pokes out his tongue and closes his eyes, letting out a groan "so wet, sweet cheeks".
he licks a stripe over your panties and hums at the light taste that runs over his tongue. he licks a few more times and then sucks over the spot where you clit is. giving it a peck once he pulls back and slides your panties off your legs quickly. he takes a moment admiring his view, your pussy glistening all because of him. he grows harder at the thought and whines as he brings his mouth to your core once more.
his tongue moves over your outer folds first and then he slowly licks on your inner folds. you hiss when his tongue makes contact with your clit. "she's sensitive huh?" he speaks referring to your pussy.
he licks your clit a few times before he sucks it in his mouth. he eases a finger into your hole at the same time. "she's greedy, look at how she's clenching around my finger," he chuckles under his breath.
your hands tangle in his hair as you mewl and buck your hips into his mouth, "ya gettin close, sweetness?" he asks sweetly moving his finger in and out of you at quick pace. "mhm," you hum in reply - not able to say much. his second hand makes its up way your body, palming your boobs over your dress. and his tongue moves in circle over your nub, bringing you closer to the edge.
"sugu-" you breathe heavily tipping your head back. he keeps sucking on your clit, his tongue teasing it every few minutes. meanwhile his finger rubs against that soft spot in you and loud moans spill out of you as you cum in his mouth.
he pulls back and moves his finger out of your cunt and into your mouth. your lips wrap around his finger tasting yourself. you hold his wrist in place as you bob your head slightly. his breath hitches at the scene. he tugs you downwards with his finger in your mouth.
you let go of his finger in your mouth and move into his lap. he grabs your face and kisses you him messily. all teeth and tongue. you pull back from the kiss spit connecting your lips. you undo the buttons of his shirt and his lips move over your neck. he wraps a hand around your throat tipping it up as he leaves kisses all over and licks a strip up to your ear lobe. a chill runs over you and you let out a whimper at his actions. he bites your ear lobe and then soothes it with his tongue.
his hands move under your ass squeezing at the flesh as he picks you up and drops you in the middle of the bed. he pulls off his unbuttoned shirt and slowly pulls off his pants and boxers, making a show of it. your mouth waters at his length as it spring up and hits his abdomen.
you reach out a hand and he grabs it pushing it by your head as he settles above you. you pull off the starps of your dress and he tugs it down your body until your nude frame comes into view. his mouth drops at the sight. "gorgeous fuckin body, gorgeous face, gorgeous girl. my girl?" he tilts his head slightly as if questioning you.
you titter "yes suguru, your girl." you confirm and the smile he gives as your heart melting. it reaches his eyes twinkling and lighting up his entire face. you spread your legs so he can settle between them. he pushes your hair back and pecks your lips once and then your cheeks, nose — showering your face in kisses making you smile until you break out in a laugh.
you maintain eye contact as your hand wraps around his dick and he gulps hard as your thumb rubs over his slit gathering his pre cum. your ringed fingers moving up and down his length, applying just the right amount of pressure without him having to guide you. so perfect for him, he thinks. "slow down," he whines. "gonna make me cum, if you keep going".
you guide it to your aching hole. "no condom. are you sure?" he asks sincerly. "i'm clean and on the pill" you hum. "im clean too," he beams. he pecks you once more before he pushes in slowly.
you both hold your breath until he pushes in half way. "can you take more?" he checks in with you. "yeah just give me a minute," you ask trying to adjust to his girth. "take your time, sweet stuff," he kisses your cheek.
"go ahead," you tell him after a few minutes and he pushes in completely, both of you whining in tandem. "fuck," his voice drops an octave.
he starts moving slowly. his tip pushes right against your g-spot. your walls snug around him. he drops his head into your neck. breathing heavily. your arms wrap around his back scratching lightly at the way he was making you feel. he picks up the pace after a while, moving all the way out with just his tip in and you moan at the loss of being full by him.
"suguru," you cry. "shh," he quickly shuts down your protests, rubbing your cheek as he pushes in harder nudging his cockhaed against your g spot making your eyes roll back. he pulls your legs up to his shoulder and the angle has you feel him deeper. he starts moving faster "feel so good, baby. can't believe, been missing out on this for so long." he whines, kissing your calf.
he starts thrusting at a toe curling pace. alternating between slow and hard, fast and soft — driving you insane. he rubs his thumb over your clit, making you reach your high. the sounds of your wet cunt and his hard thrusts are loud and can probably be heard by anyone passing your room. if this was anyone else, you would've probably not made a single sound but with suguru... you can't help but be loud.
"what a messy cunt you've got sweetness. just sucking me in so eagerly." he pushes your legs up to your chest fucking you faster. "tch tch" he tuts patting your cheek, when you shut your eyes from the simulation. "eyes on me". you nod. "how does it feel baby?" he asks.
"incredible," you whimper. he holds eye contact as he brings your legs down to wrap around him and he moves closer to you. breathing in synch. chest to chest. skin to skin.
if you tried hard enough you could feel his heart beating to the syllable of your name. "i've missed you so much," he whispers. his lips captures yours and you whine into his mouth. his tongue dances with yours. his thumb on your clit moves at an unwavering pace bringing you closer to the edge. you bite his lower lip as the band in your stomach snaps and you cum with a moan of his name. he follows suit chanting your name like a mantra.
he looks into your eyes once you both come down from your highs and all you could see was the love you had for each other reflected back. you stay like that for a while, a smile on both your faces. despite the fact that you had been apart for two years, your ability to understand each other remained unchanged as you gaze into each other's eye having an entire conversation without speaking. the distance and time only made your relationship stronger.
"so, weed makes you horny huh?" he breaks the silence. and you both bust out laughing.
a/n: i honestly dont know how i feel about this one but i hope you like it :). reblogs, likes, and comments are highly appreciated!
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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rogueddie · 7 months
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Nancys torn shirt was a poor excuse for a bandage and Steve should have changed it as soon as they got out of the Upside Down. He should have cleaned it, best he could, and rewrapped his sides in clean bandages.
But he didn't do that. He'd forgotten all about his injuries as soon as Nancys eyes rolled back in her head.
It didn't feel important after that. They had stopped hurting during the bike ride to Eddies. If the cloth tied around his waist wasn't covered in dry blood and rubbing uncomfortably against his skin anytime he moved, he would have forgotten all about the bites.
After losing Max... and Eddie... he couldn't bring himself to care. He was still on his feet. He still felt fine. He mostly felt guilty, still high on the adrenaline that always comes with a fight with the Upside Down.
It was Robin who told a nurse that Steve was also injured and needed seeing.
But the bites were... good. They were easy to clean and no where near as deep as Steve remembers them being.
"You're lucky here," the nurse told him. "You need to keep wounds clean, no matter how small. If these got infected, you could be in big trouble."
It was only a week later that he started to feel it. And he knew he should tell the others. Robin, Nancy, Will, anyone. He knows the signs. He knows what it could mean.
He feels cold.
There's a buzzing building in the back of his head.
The portals cutting through the town call to him.
He's hungry.
"I just don't feel well," he lies. "I'll sleep it off, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
He can hear Robin frowning through the phone. It almost makes him ache, knowing how much it must be upsetting her that he's drawing back.
"I'm sure," he says. "I'll call you, the second I feel better."
"Not good enough, Harrington. I want a call every single day, I don't care if you're too sick to talk. Breathe at me or something."
"I'll try." Another lie.
"I miss you, Stevie."
"Miss you too, Bobbie. So much."
He hangs up, and immediately wishes he hadn't.
There's a crack at the bottom of his pool. He can feel exactly where it leads and, without Robins voice in his ear tethering him, he can't think of a reason not to.
It's too tempting. Too easy.
Crawling into the Upside Down, all he feels is relief. It's like he can finally breathe again. The spores make his lungs finally feel clear.
"Wh- Steve?!" Someone yelps.
Sat at the edge of his pool, legs dangling off the edge and covered in blood-
"Eddie?"
"What the hell are you doing here?" He says, sliding down into the pool. The vines move to help him. "You gotta go back, man, you can't be here."
"You're alive?"
"Not really, but that's not important. Harrington, you have to leave. Whatever this hive shit wants you for, it's not good."
"Hive? What?"
"Yeah, the... Jesus, dude, what did you think was drawing you in here?"
"I don't know... I didn't really... I couldn't..."
"Hey, Steve, snap-"
Eddie steps forward, trying to scare Steve back by getting in his face, but he freezes mid sentence when they're barely a step apart.
Before Steve can ask, Eddie is pulling his head to the side by his hair, nose almost pressed to his neck. Sniffing him.
"What the hell?" Steve chokes out, once Eddie draws back.
He doesn't step back though, one hand still clutching his jacket and the other resting on the side of his neck. He looks scared.
"They weren't drawing you in. They were calling you home."
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wheeboo · 3 months
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run to you | lee chan
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SYNOPSIS. in which your best friend picks you up in the middle of the night. PAIRING. biker!best friend!lee chan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, lil angst, best friends to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, implied that reader lives in a troubled household, lil description of a twisted ankle, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.7k
notes: finally have something written for dino!! i haven't written anything for him in a HOT min that this almost feels out of character for some reason 😭 anyways enjoy <3
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Chan doesn't understand why simply the sight of your name lighting up his phone has his heart quickening, head spinning, and adrenaline rushing all in a single moment. But he doesn't give it much thought, his hand instinctively pressing the answer button as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
He brings his phone up to his ear, calling out your name, "Y/N?"
"Hey, um..." Your voice is shaky on the other line, barely above a whisper, laced with something that sounds suspiciously like pain, and it sends a snake of worry up his back. "...can you do me a favour real quick?"
Chan glances at the time on his phone for a brief second, brows furrowing at the late time displayed on the screen. He sits up in bed, already somehow feeling more awake than just a few seconds ago. "Yeah, uh, what's up?"
Silence hangs heavy in the air, heavier than the late-night quiet pressing against Chan's window. He can almost hear your nervous inhale and picture the hesitant frown on your face.
"I left my... well, actually my entire skateboard bag... at your place," You admit quietly, sheepishly. "Could you possibly... drop it off at my door? It's really late, I know, but𑁋"
"Where are you?" Chan asks frantically and seriously that it cuts you off. He hears the way your breath hitches in your throat at the tone of his voice, and it only makes him more apprehensive and his heart hammering against his ribs anxiously. "Are you at the skate park?"
Crap, he knows. He always knows. "Look, I just... needed to clear my head and took a little fall. I'm fine, can you just𑁋"
"Stay put," he commands, leaving no room for argument. "I'm coming to get you."
"What? No, Chan, it's fine𑁋"
He cuts you off, refusing to hear your protests. "Don't move. I'll be there in ten."
He hangs up before you can utter another word, quickly tossing a shirt on and grabbing his keys, helmet (and a second one), and of course, your skateboard bag. As Chan throws the bag over his shoulder, a sharp pang of worry hits him. He knows you're downplaying the fall and everything else going on, but the tremor in your voice paints a different picture in his mind, and he seems to be listening to his heart more than he ever thought he would.
All he could think about is you.
Chan knows not to pry, but it isn't the first time this has happened𑁋where you 'clear your head' in the middle of the night and run away from home for a few hours. But the thought of you alone and hurt gnaws at him more than he cares to admit.
Pushing aside the questions and worries for later, Chan rushes out the door, the roar of his motorcycle echoing through the hushed night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. As he speeds towards the familiar silhouette of the skate park, a million scenarios play in his mind, each one twisting his gut tighter. He forces them down, focusing only on one𑁋getting to you and making sure you're okay.
The wind whips past Chan's helmet, carrying with it the sting of the cool night air and the echo of your shaky voice. He rounds the last corner, the skate park coming into view, bathed in the dim glow of a streetlamp. He catches a single glance of your figure leaning against wall with your skateboard abandoned not that far away, and his heart jumps into his throat.
He throws the bike into a skid that leaves a dark streak on the pavement, the gravel crunching beneath his tires and the engine sputtering to a halt just beside you. You flinch at the sudden noise, looking up with wide, surprised eyes. Before you can speak, he's already hopping off and jogging towards you.
Something jumps in your stomach when he takes off his helmet, the streetlamp above illuminating the worry etched on his features and windswept, messy hair. Chan kneels before you, the gravel biting into his knees as his gaze takes note of the way you're gingerly clutching down at your ankle.
The concern in his eyes makes your defenses crumble. You open your mouth to explain, but he silences you with a gentle hand on your knee.
"Don't talk," he murmurs, voice surprisingly soft. "Let me see."
He gently pushes your hand away, his touch sending a spark through your already jittery nerves, calloused fingers lightly brushing against away the dirt clinging to your slightly swollen ankle. You wince at the contact, breath hitching at the unexpected touch. It's not painful, but it's strangely electrifying.
"It looks swollen," he states, carefully brushing his thumbs over the affected area. "Can you put any weight on it?"
You hesitantly try to wiggle your toes, wincing when a sharp pain shoots up your leg.
"Fuck, ow," You whisper, biting your lip. You feel the shame and embarrassment burn at your cheeks, making you want to sink into the cool concrete beneath you.
He's always right; you weren't fine. You hadn't been fine for a long time, but admitting it to yourself felt like opening a dam of emotions you weren't sure you could contain the longer you stay here, and you aren't sure if Chan being in front of you was helping with that or not.
"Does it hurt a lot?" Chan asks, voice a low rumble that vibrates through the gravel where he kneels. You can't help but meet his gaze, searching for judgment, but finding only concern and a hint of something deeper you couldn't decipher, or didn't want to acknowledge.
You shrug, hating how weak the gesture feels, pulling back your leg away from him slightly. "It's okay, just a twist."
Chan's jaw clenches, the concern on his face morphing into something else, something you couldn't quite place. "Just a twist? Y/N, it's the middle of the night, you're alone at the skate park, and you can barely stand. It's not okay."
You feel your chest tighten. "I told you I just needed to get some air. You didn't have to come if you didn't want to. I'm fine."
His eyes narrow, and you catch a glimpse of something raw and intense flickering in them.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asks, coming out a bit harsher than intended. "What if you... what if something bad happened and you couldn't call for help? Do you think I wouldn't want to be the one to find you?"
His words hit you like a physical blow. You flinch, the vulnerability you'd so carefully guarded threatening to spill out. God, you hate that he could see through you, hate that he cares so much, hate that you couldn't hate it no matter how much you tried.
"No," You mumble, swallowing back the heat threatening in your eyes. "I don't think you're stupid. It's just..." Your voice trails off.
"It's just what?" Chan demands, voice tight. "Just another night where you disappear and leave me wondering if you're okay? I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you."
His words suspend heavy in the air, the only sounds coming from the occasional crickets and the rhythmic thump of your heart echoing loudly in your ears. You could only stare at Chan, his intense gaze boring into you, and feel a dam within yourself start to slowly crack.
Chan lets his eyes roam over you, and a twinge of guilt seems to twitch at his lips, his eyes softening noticeably, but barely. He lets out a sigh.
"Come on," he says firmly. "I can't let you stay here alone, not tonight. Let me take you back to my place, okay?" His eyes hold yours for a beat longer than necessary, a silent plea struggling beneath the surface.
He rises from the ground and offers you his hand. The heat radiating from his skin sends a familiar jolt through you. Hesitantly, you place your hand in his, his fingers warm and calloused as they intertwine together clumsily, like you're testing some type of waters. Then he lifts you with surprising ease, the sudden movement sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through your ankle, making you tighten your grip on his hand.
"Sorry," he murmurs, concern flickering in his eyes. "Let me know if it's too much."
You shake your head, unable to find your voice. You're a tangled mess of emotions𑁋relief, embarrassment, and a fluttering nervousness that you can't quite explain. He helps you onto the back of his motorcycle and secures the extra helmet around your head, before stepping away to collect your skateboard from the ground. Then you feel his hand cup over yours, bringing it to secure around his waist, the warmth of his body pressed against yours sending shivers down your spine.
"Hold on tight," he instructs. As the engine rolls to life, you feel the vibration through your body, and you scoot yourself impossibly closer to him, tightening your hold around his abdomen even more.
The ride to his apartment is a blur of streetlights and rushing wind. You cling to him even more, not entirely sure if it's for balance or something more, but it's awfully comforting and... intimate.
You lean your head on his back and breathe in the familiar scent of leather and warmth that seems to calm you more than it should. Shifting your eyes up, you steal a glance at Chan, the moonlight casting long shadows across his determined jaw and windblown hair. You can feel his muscles tense and relax with every shift of the bike, and a strange sense of safety washes over you. You feel a slight tug at your lips at the thought.
As the motorcycle comes to a stop outside Chan's apartment, you linger for a moment, the gentle rumble of the engine fading into the quiet night as he puts it into park. The warmth of his body still lingers onto yours as he takes off his helmet and hops off the bike, before turning around to help with yours.
The brush of your hands against each other sends a jolt through the two of you. Chan quickly pulls away, his hand hovering awkwardly by your helmet, but the heaviness in the air lingers. You look up at him, his gaze flickering between your face, before he fully slips the helmet off your head, hand lingering in the strands of your hair for a moment.
He clears his throat, looking away briefly before meeting your eyes again.
"I, uh... should get you inside," he finally says.
You only give a nod. But as you attempt to step off the bike, the pain in your ankle shoots up your leg, bringing a wince to your face.
"Here," Chan says quickly, kneeling before you again. "Let me help."
He carefully scoops you up in his arms, the familiar scent of leather and warmth enveloping you once more. This time, you don't try to pull away, your heart pounding against his chest as he carries you inside.
He takes you to his kitchen, helping you sit on top of the counter, and you can't help but let out a quiet, soft sigh of relief. As he draws away from you to rummage through the drawers, you glance around his kitchen, noting the small stack of dishes in the sink, the motorcycle magazines scattered across his little eating area, and an empty bowl of cereal𑁋a glimpse into his life you hadn't seen before.
It's silent when it all happens, almost too silent it's suffocating. But as Chan comes back to you with an ice pack and a bottle of pills, you could only watch him. The soft light from the hanging lamp above bathes his face in a warm glow, and you catch the way his gaze lingers on your face a moment too long.
He reaches out, gently placing the ice pack on your swollen ankle. His touch is light, almost tentative, yet the cold feeling makes you flinch, but Chan's hand rests gently on the skin above your ankle, the other cupping at your knee. There's a part of you that wants to pull away from him, from everything happening right now, but you don't. You don't want to. You can't. He's worried, frustrated, and maybe even a little hurt, and you understand why. You've pushed him away again, and he's tired of it.
"I..." You start, a tremor betraying your words. "I didn't mean to worry you."
Chan glances up at you. "But you did," he replies lowly. "You always do. And it scares the hell out of me."
The tension hangs thick in the air as Chan's words sink in.
"I-I'm sorry, I really am," You mutter, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "It's just... things are hard at home, and I don't know how to deal with it. Being away just seems to... clear it all up a little bit, you know?"
"Then why run away when you can run to me?" He's standing right in front of you at this point, one hand still on your knee.
"Why do care you so much?" You counter almost defensively, feeling yourself tense right under his gaze.
"Because the more this happens, the more I realise I don't want to be your friend anymore," he answers simply, then lowers his voice. "I can't be... just your friend anymore when I want to be the person you run to."
The world freezes. Everything freezes, and you could only stare at him with widened eyes and a pure look of shock. Nothing but silence stretches between the two of you, and the hammering in your chest only grows stronger by each passing second.
Chan lowers his gaze to the floor, taking his hand off your knee and running it through his hair. "Fuck, I shouldn't have..." He catches a glimpse of the bottle of pain medication right next to you. "Let me get you some water𑁋"
"No, wait." You grab at his hand, causing him to halt, and he looks back at you. "Don't... go yet, please?"
Chan hesitates, before giving in, finding himself standing right back in front of you, the two of you almost eye-level. Except you shoot a quick look at his lips, then up to his eyes, before letting the hand wrapped around his wrist pull him even closer to you, to the point where he's almost standing between your legs.
His breath hitches from the sudden closeness, but he shouldn't be like this right now. Not when you're hurt and vulnerable. He can't tell you that he wanted you the moment you met two years ago when you rolled past him one day on the way to the same skate park, can't tell you that he would choose you over everything else in a heartbeat.
But all those thoughts are pushed away the moment he feels your lips on his, and his hands come naturally to your waist, as if afraid you might slip away. His lips seemingly mold perfectly with yours, and you can feel the longing in the way his fingers seem to tighten its hold on your shirt.
Your lips part for a brief moment, and there's a long moment that passes before Chan leans in again, capturing your mouth a bit more fervently, a bit more passionately than before, yet nonetheless still sweet and tender. The world outside disappears, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the gentle glow of the kitchen light above.
When you both pull away, there's a breathless pause.
"Are you... are you okay?" he asks cautiously. "I'm sorry, it just..."
"No, I'm... I should say sorry for... everything," You cut him off. "I shouldn't have made you worried or... pushed you away. I'm sorry."
"All I ever want is to make sure you're okay, Y/N." His hand is back at your knee again, finger tracing reassuring shapes, easing the tension out of your body.
You let out a nervous, light-hearted chuckle. "We're not even together yet and I'm already causing you so much trouble."
Chan's expression softens, and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin.
"Who said I wasn't yours yet?" He leans back in, teasing his lips back against yours. "I can be, if you want me to be."
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another note: ending is a lil rushed im sorry oops i wrote this rlly late 😭
taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziees @mirxzii @bookyeom
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i found your blog today and i’m so obsessed, i love it smmm! i was wondering if you could do a oneshot where reader finds out she’s pregnant and rafe is so sweet and supportive abt it. like he immediately starts treating her like she’s fragile to the touch and spoils her rotten :(((
- also idk if you do emoji anons but if you do, can i please be 🍓??
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warnings: soft!rafe, unprotected sex, pregnancy
“fuck, i’m gonna cum, baby,” rafe groaned, about to pull out so he could finish on your tummy instead. “no, no, please cum inside me rafe!” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist so he couldn’t move. “shit- are you sure?” a groan fell from his lips, his hips stuttering as he continued thrusting into you. he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes as you nodded frantically. “yes, i’m sure. fill me up!” your words pushed him over the edge, both of you moaning in unison as he emptied himself inside of you
now, nearly a month later, here you were staring down at two pink lines. you chewed your lip nervously, taking a second test to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. sure enough, the pink lines showed up darker than the first ones. “i’m so pregnant.” you whispered to yourself, a smile forming on your lips as you used a pillow to muffle your scream. “no way!” you squealed, freezing once you realized you needed to tell rafe. “oh, fuck..” you glanced at the time on your phone, 4:30 PM. only thirty minutes left until he got home.
you rushed back into the bathroom, grabbing the tests and hiding them in the drawer. your mind was racing a million miles a minute, trying to figure out how you’d break the news. you changed out of your clothes and into rafe’s favorite summer dress, quickly freshening up your hair. by the time rafe walked through the door, you were buzzing with excitement, fiddling with the ring on your finger. “hey, baby.” he pulled you into a hug, his arms swallowing whole. “how was that meeting with your dad?” you let him carry you to the couch, both of you sinking into the cushions with a sigh.
“good, real good,” he nodded. “it was funny, we met up with this family and they had these kids running around. ‘was real cute.” rafe smiled. “that was all my dad talked about on the way home, ‘said he needed to be a grandpa already.” he shook his head. you couldn’t help but gaze up at him. “what do you think about that? having kids?” rafe looked down at you, his eyes growing soft as he traced the curve of your lips. “oh, man. when that time comes, there wouldn’t be no doubt in my mind that you’d be the most amazing mother to our babies.” he kissed your knuckles.
you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes, rafe immediately pulling you against his chest. “what’s wrong, love? was it something i said?” he tucked your hair behind your ear. “no, it’s just.. i feel like i really needed to hear that.” you smiled, rubbing his chest. “you needed to hear me say that you’d be a great mother to our babies?” rafe sounded slightly confused, making you stand up. “stay here, i’m gonna get something.” your heart beat in your ears the whole way up and down the stairs, your hands shaking as you showed him the positive pregnancy tests.
he stared for a moment, slowly taking them from you. rafe was silent for a long time, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally looked up at you. “oh, my god.” he stood up, hands reaching out touch you as if you weren’t real. “oh, my god, baby..” he lowered himself on his knees, lining his head up with your stomach. he wrapped his arms around you, clutching the hem of your dress as he cried into your skin. “are you happy?” you squeaked out, running your fingers through his buzzed hair. “are you kidding me? this is the best day of my life.” he sniffled. picking you up bridal style, and carrying you upstairs.
“i’ve wanted this for a very long time.” he kissed you, laying you down ever so gently. “we’re going shopping first thing tomorrow,” he kicked off his shoes, “what’s that app you’re always on? picnic? painter?” you laughed. “pinterest, rafe.” he nodded, “yeah that,” he settled in next to you, draping an arm across your torso. “we’ll start looking for inspiration for the nursery, oh! and we should probably tell our families once we’re in the safe zone, just to make sure everything’s alright..” you sighed, tracing shapes into his skin as you shut your eyes momentarily. “thank you.” rafe rested his head in the crook of your neck, “no, thank you.”
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