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starkidmunson · 5 months

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glitter & crimson

“Marry.”

“What?”

“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”

“Eddie, we’re not playing FMK; you’re supposed to be telling me his name.”

“Oh. That’s…. Joe Jonas.”

“…he’s literally from Hawkins. And he’s holding a hockey stick.”

“Nobody from Hawkins is that hot, man, no way.”

~~~

Gareth posts the clip to his personal TikTok. Before he can get around to reposting it on Corroded Coffin’s band account, it has more than 100k views. Things only spiral from there, because once the band shares it, the video goes more viral and ends up on the screens of the right people.

chiblkhwks: harrington94 is social media challenged, but we’re going to make sure he sees this. Will keep you posted.

The comment is immediately overshadowed by a busy day of PR. A photoshoot to an interview to a radio show to the green room at the Fillmore in Boston, before an intimate pre-album release show for members of their fan club. Eddie has completely forgotten about the video entirely, but Gareth’s phone pings with a text notification.

“A response has been issued!” He declares to the room, still grinning down at the screen of his phone.

The rest of the band shares a collectively confused look, all seeming pleased to find they’re not alone in whatever they’ve missed.

“What?” Jeff asks for the group.

In lieu of an explanation, Gareth just flips the phone in his hand around to show a TikTok, stitched with the clip they’d made earlier that morning.

~~~

“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”

#Stitch

“Is… is that supposed to be a compliment?” Steve asks, making a pinched face as he laces up his skates.

“You watched the whole video. He compared you to Joe Jonas.” The girl behind the camera responds, but he levels her with an unimpressed look. She doesn’t respond, and after a beat, he sighs.

“Yeah, alright, I guess Joe Jonas is hot. I’ll take the compliment.” He huffs, standing to his feet and moving from the bench he’d been suiting up on toward the ice. The girl follows him, gliding toward the net once they're in the rink, never falling out of pace with him.

“Do you know who it is talking in the video?” She presses, and Steve looks unimpressed again.

“You mean the other hot guy?” He asks with a grin, then nods. “That was Eddie. I’m surprised you don’t know him, the Party listens to Corroded Coffin all the time.”

The video loops back to the stitched clip from Gareth’s initial TikTok then. Everyone in the room processes what just unfolded.

“The Party? Did… did Steve Harrington just make a reference to DnD? Or is that some sports thing I dont understand?” Jeff asks.

Freak raises his hand, indicating he’s next to speak. “Not only that, but his nerdy DnD friends listen to us all the time?”

“Did King Steve call Joe Jonas hot?” Eddie asks, visibly still trying to connect the wires in his brain that fried at Steve’s agreement. “Did he call me hot?”

All three turn toward Eddie, whose face is still reflecting the long form math equation his brain is trying to work out, and Jeff sighs.

“Well, boys. I think we’ve officially lost him.” He says, bowing his head. Freak and Gareth join him solemnly, making Eddie huff and cross his arms over his chest.

“You’re all so dramatic.”

“Gee, I wonder who encouraged us to be this way,” Freak exaggerates through a grin, before shoving a guitar into Eddie’s chest, just in time for Paige to open the door and summon them.

“We can have a meltdown over Harrington after the gig,” Gareth promises with a pat to Eddie’s back as everyone moves around him, exiting the green room and heading for the stage.

~~~

Riding his post-show high, Eddie makes a bold move in the CC band TikTok, commenting under the video Steve had stitched.

corrodedcoff!n: we’ll be in chicago 1/26 if harrington94 and ‘the party’ are free 🎫

He only gets about 20 minutes of peace before Gareth is jumping around, proclaiming himself the greatest wingman in history.

“It’s an offer for free concert tickets made over social media, and he hasn’t even answered, Gare Bear.” Eddie tries to get him to relax, but he, too, is eager to see how the other reacts to the offer.

He wakes up the next morning to the answer he’d been waiting on, and his stomach flips as he reads it over.

harrington94: only if you guys come to the home game 1/27 🏒

__________

Steve doesn’t even bat an eye when Max shoves her way into the locker room, b-lining straight for him.

“Can I help you?” He asks without looking up, unhooking the padding from his calf and letting it drop to the ground in front of his locker.

“Are you using TikTok to publicly flirt with Eddie Munson?” She asks, voice quieter than he’d typically expect from her, but he just scoffs.

“I’m just being friendly! You’re the one who started this in the first place! What, you didn’t expect me to log on and check if they’d responded?” He asks in response, freeing his foot from the skate, before placing a cover over the blade and letting the boot drop into the lower shelf beside his locker.

“I’m just confused because you’ve been super weird about coming out, and now you’re out here hitting on a rockstar all over social media, that’s all.” Max says, and Steve freezes for a moment.

“Do you…” he trails off, before closing his eyes and rubbing a thumb into his temple. “You really think I just accidentally came out?”

“You called Joe Jonas and Eddie Munson hot, encouraged this rockstar to come to your game when he’s in town and also accepted tickets to see him perform, Steve.” Max was monotone, and held her hands up defensively when he groaned. “I’m not starting anything, I’m just saying that this could get blown out of proportion now.”

They discuss a little further, deciding neither of them will publicly acknowledge anything that’s been posted to the account for now, until they actually come up with a plan.

Once he’s in his car heading home, Steve calls Robin.

“Dingus,” she greets, as always, and he lets out a grumble. “Uh oh. What happened?”

“I think I accidentally came out on the internet, and it’s Eddie Munson’s fault.” He’s met with several seconds of silence as he starts his car on the path to him and Robin’s shared apartment.

“Eddie, the drug dealer from high school?” Robin eventually asks, confused, and Steve groans again.

“Yeah. He uh, also is in a band?” He supplies, and Robin’s quiet for a moment as she processes. Then, he hears the tapping of a keyboard. “What are you doing?”

“Looking Eddie up, obviously.” Steve can practically see her eye roll, even though they’re not FaceTiming. “You’re nothing if not consistent, I guess. Doe-eyed curly brunet.”

Steve scoffs. “You say as though you’re not the one currently waking up beside Nance every morning.”

He’s met again by a short silence, before Robin lets out a little puff of air, in a small laugh. “Thank you again for being so cool about that, by the way.” She says, before he hears clicking on her end. “Apparently, Eddie is out as bi. Corroded Coffin does a charity show for the Trevor Project every year, and he’s been to a lot of Pride events.”

Steve’s stomach twists with each new bit of information she provides, because a part of him wants to be that out, wants to be like Robin or apparently Eddie, freely sharing that part of themselves with the world and having no one give a shit. But that’s not how it works on so many levels for Steve. Beside the shit he’d have to deal with on the ice from certain other players, he had no idea how it would impact the team overall. There’s no way to gauge how fans would react, when there’s never been an openly gay player in the NHL. And that didn't even begin to touch on how his parents would react.

“Hey,” Robin breaks him out of his spiral and he realizes he’s been chewing a hole into his cheek. “I can hear how loud you’re thinking right now. Do you need me to come home?” She asks, gently, and he sighs.

“Please.” He mumbles after a long pause, and is grateful when he hears the jingle of car keys from the other end of the phone.

~~~

Robin scrolls through article after article once she gets to their place, pulling Steve onto the sofa with her and laying his head in her lap. Her fingers twist through his hair, doing her best to keep him calm as she reads up on the situation playing out to try and help gauge how big of a hole he’s dug himself this time.

“I don’t think there’s really anyone who thinks you were flirting with him. Not seriously, at least.” She tries to assure him, but he’d already seen the twitter posts to contradict that before she came over. He sighs and rolls onto his back, so he’s looking up at her, and shrugs.

“I kind of don’t think there’s any avoiding it, at this point.” He mumbles. “I’m not… I’m not ready to come out, not like this. Not on this scale. I think the only thing I can do is carry on and hope it doesn’t get turned into any bigger of a deal.”

Robin hums down at him, and continues to brush his hair back out of his eyes. “Okay. So you don’t come out yet. But don’t overcompensate for it, okay?” He scrunches his face up at her, and she types something into her phone before turning it back into his face. He immediately pales, met with a photo of him out with Heidi last year. With a black eye on full display, he looks miserable behind a fake smile.

“Low blow,” he grumbles, pushing himself away from Robin to sit up beside her, and she raises her eyebrow at him, still holding the photo pointed in his direction.

“‘Maybe they won’t notice or ask why my literal teammate punched me in the face at practice if I take a fucking supermodel out to dinner.’” Robin’s imitation is a little too good, a sure sign of too much time spent together.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it!” He asks, taking the phone off of her and closing out of the image before locking it. He drops it back into her lap with a sigh. “I just don’t know how many times I can keep getting away with hiding it.”

“Well, it helps that Billy got traded out to LA. He would be insufferable about this, and would absolutely make everything 10 times worse.” Robin muses.

Steve sighs and hesitates for a moment before dropping his head back into her lap, curling into her. “I just want it to be on my terms, when I’m ready.”

“We’ll figure it out, and it’ll all be okay, no matter what. Okay?” She assures quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.

His phone dings with a new notification; Max texted him a screenshot from TikTok.

corrodedcoff!n: you’ve got yourself a deal 🤝🏻

#hockey player!steve #rockstar!eddie #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #Steddie #should I keep going?#lmk if anyone is interested in part 2 #anti billy hargrove #hockey au #Steddie hockey au #Steddie rockstar au #starkidmunson writes #glitter & crimson

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roosterforme · 4 months

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Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust.

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause.

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio.

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight.

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation.

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters.

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?"

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face.

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox.

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand.

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand.

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you.

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite."

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning."

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you.

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him.

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked.

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it.

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning.

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all.

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps.

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties.

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars."

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest.

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile.

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin.

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

------------------------

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing.

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment.

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

------------------------

The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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aidaronan · 1 year

Text

"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.

"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."

Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"

"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."

Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."

"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.

"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."

Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"

"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."

"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.

"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."

Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."

"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."

"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."

"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.

____

It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"

It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.

Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.

"Well, this brings back memories."

Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.

Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.

Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.

"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."

#steddie #ficlet #mine #long post #first kisses

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magics-neptunes-things · 5 months

Text

I Don't Bite (Woso Prompt)

11. I don't bite. I mean, not unless someone asks me.

I have to admit I first read it with Leah’s voice in my head.

TW : Alcohol

______________________________________________________________

You’ve only been at Arsenal for a few months, but your integration went well. The fact that you speak good English and know Viv and Victoria well from your national team probably helped a lot. You’re pretty close to the others too, but you have to admit that if there’s one player you’re less close to, it’s Leah Williamson.

Because the very moment you first saw her, you developed the dumbest biggest crush on her.

You blush when she talks to you, you can’t help but look at her everytime you have the chance and you find yourself regularly browsing through her Instagram hidden in your bed. You have the perfect impression of being a teenage fool and you suspect that you are ridiculous in Leah’s eyes.

Tonight, you’re all out celebrating Amanda’s birthday, and maybe the alcohol was consumed a little too much. You’re not the type to drink too much, but Leah's here and you have to find a way not to drool in front of her. She's incredible and you swallowed your drink wrong when she arrived with Lia. It amused Kyra very much beside you who gave you blows in the back to prevent you from choking.

This is the only time you’ve ever cross eyes with Leah. Around 3:00 in the morning, you decide it’s time for you to go home. Some of your teammates are already gone and the others are a little scattered throughout the establishment. After saying goodbye to those who were with you at the table, you get your things and go out.

It’s been many minutes since you lost Leah’s eyes, but you didn’t expect to face her as you walked through the door.

"Where are you going?" asks the blonde, frowning.

"I... Uh… Home. See you tomorrow" you mumble.

You rush past her but you are surprised when you feel Leah’s hand grabbing your biceps to turn you in her direction.

"Are you walking home?"

"Yes? I don’t live far"

"It’s three in the morning, you never read news?"

You look at her without understanding, as she rolls her eyes. And Lord have a mercy, this dress is doing things to you.

"I’m taking you home, I don’t want to risk finding you slit in an alley. I didn’t drink anything tonight."

Her tone leaves no room for compromise, but you find yourself trying to contradict her.

"Leah, I swear I’ll be fine."

"Please. I don’t bite. I mean, not unless someone asks me"

She answers you on the cocky tone that characterizes her and you have the impression that you will catch fire on the spot when her gaze plunges into yours.

Leah takes your stutter for an acceptance and takes you with her to her car parked a little further. Your heart rate is way too high for a simple car ride. The silence that reigns during the journey doesn't seem to bother Leah who sings the different musics that pass on the radio, following to the different indications that you give her.

When you get to your home, Leah turns off the engine and looks at you for a few seconds. While you were about to open your mouth to thank her, she got ahead of you by speaking first.

"I see you, you know?"

"I don’t understand" you answer after a few seconds of silence.

"I see you looking at me. Blush whenever I talk to you or look at you."

If someone could give you the ability to turn into a mouse and run away from that car forever, you would. She talking about blushing, you’re probably turned into a tomato.

"I- I’m sorry" you whisper staring straight ahead.

"Don’t be. I think it’s pretty cute"

This has the merit of surprising you enough that you turn your eyes in her direction. The surprise must be on your face since Leah laughs softly while leaning in your direction.

"Actually I think you are very cute"

Are you dreaming or have you passed a portal for a parallel dimension without realizing it? You look at Leah carefully and you find yourself again immersed in her blue eyes.

"I look at you too, you know" she whispers as she looks at you, laying a hand on your cheek.

You’re too shocked to realize it, but Leah is just as hypnotized by you as you are by her. You see her gaze sliding from your eyes to your lips and you also approach your face from hers when she leans in your direction.

Her lips get on yours and you feel your brain freeze. The feeling is even more pleasant than you could imagine in your hours of perdition. Her kiss is soft but also so sensual it makes your head spin.

Her thumb caresses your cheek and goes down to your jaw and then your neck to hold your face against hers. She add her tongue in the kiss when you whisper and you have to hold you back from jumping over the shifter and sitting on her.

"Maybe I’ll want to bite you after all" Leah said maliciously against your lips when you have to take your breath again.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso imagines #woso one shot #woso fanfics

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yesihaveaobsession · 2 months

Text

Being Alastor's Short Girlfriend. (MY HEADCANONS)

He only dated you because he loved how short you were. You definitely weren't as short as the king of hell, but a little shorter than Charlie, which he loves because he can just throw you around (not literally, I mean he probably could). Not to mention how stubborn you've become, pouting and puffing out your bottom at him, or even just trying to take him on.

So here are my HEADCANONS.:

Forehead Kisses: If and when he just wants to show you some quick affection he would bend down from his normal height and place a kiss on your forehead. This is mainly in public to show all those other sinners (Vox) who you belong to. He wants to show off his girl (as he should)

You were reading a book on his armchair in the foyer of the hotel, he snuck up behind you and places a quick peck on your forehead while leaning an arm on the back of the chair as he smiled down at you, he had told you he was going to be in the radio tower and to come find him if you needed anything. (He would stop his broadcast just for you and only you)

2.Lifting You Up: Lifting you up would be easily picking you up with no struggle and throwing you over his shoulder, of course he still wearing his smile, you fight him and tell him to put you down but then just give up.

You stood Infront of your demon boyfriend in a ready stance in his room, he was training you to be better at your combat, but he took one step close to you with a blink of an eye he lifted you up and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked and threated him but with a closed with smile and hooded eyes he knew if he could easily pick you up like this. What were you going to do?

3.Piggyback Rides: He offers piggyback rides, allowing you to relax and enjoy the view from a higher vantage point, while he revels in your laughter and happiness. Once everyone is out of the hotel and it's just you two, this is mainly. Just you and him time ;)

Alastor, with his trademark grin, sought out his girlfriend you, amidst the Hazbin Hotel's chaos. Finding you in the lobby, he proposed an impromptu adventure—a piggyback ride. Amused, you accepted, and you too set off through the hotel's corridors, drawing stares from curious demons. With you securely on his back, you too reveled in the simple joy of being together, two souls intertwined in the madness of the Hazbin Hotel.

4.Lifting You onto Countertops: He playfully lifts you onto countertops or high surfaces so you can reach things easily, turning mundane tasks into fun moments together. Because everyone in the hotel is taller than you, so you beloved boyfriend helps you.

In the Hazbin Hotel kitchen, you struggled to reach high cabinets. Then, Alastor appeared, offering help with a smirk. With his guidance, you found yourself perched on the countertops, feeling a rush of excitement. Alastor effortlessly retrieved what you needed, impressing you with his skill. A brief touch sparked a silent understanding between you. With a charming smile, he helped you down, leaving behind a memorable moment in the chaos of the hotel kitchen.

5.Carrying You Bridal Style: On special occasions or just for fun, Alastor sweeps you off your feet and carries your bridal style, relishing in the joy of holding you close.

In the heart of the Hazbin Hotel's chaos, you found yourself swept off your feet by Alastor. With a devilish grin, he carried your bridal style through the bustling corridors, drawing curious glances from passersby. In that moment, it felt like just the two of you, lost in your own little world of love and mischief amidst the chaos of the hotel.

6.The Gentle Head Tilt: When they're talking, Alastor sometimes tilts his girlfriend's chin up with a finger, just to steal a quick kiss or gaze into her eyes.

In the midst of their conversations, Alastor often found himself captivated by his girlfriend's presence. Sometimes, as they spoke, he couldn't resist the urge to gently tilt her chin up with a finger, drawing her attention to him. With a charming smile playing on his lips, he'd steal a quick kiss or gaze deeply into her eyes, lost in the moment of their connection. "You are just so adorable my dear."

7.Playful Teasing: Alastor enjoys teasing his girlfriend about her height in a playful and affectionate way, making her laugh and feel loved despite any insecurities.

Alastor laughs as he bent down to the waist and watched you pout he patted your head. "You're so short."

8. Cooking Together: Alastor loves cooking with his girlfriend you, and he's always there to reach the high shelves or assist you with any tasks that require extra height. Oh, and this...

In the lively kitchen of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor and you stood side by side, ready to cook up a storm together. With a playful smirk, he handed you an apron, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Looks like we have a feast to prepare, my dear," he announced.

Together, you dove into the ingredients, Alastor adding his flair with dramatic flair. Amidst the chaos, you danced around each other, laughter filling the air.

As the aroma of your creation wafted through the kitchen, you shared knowing glances, your shared passion bringing you closer.

Finally, sitting down to enjoy your masterpiece, you both knew that every moment together was a delicious adventure waiting to be savored.

9.Drawing You Close in Crowded Places: In crowded places, Alastor instinctively pulls his girlfriend closer to him, protecting her and making her feel secure in the midst of the crowd. There are terrible people out there who can get to you, and he can't have that.

If it's loud he whispers in your ear too.

In crowded places, Alastor instinctively pulls you closer, wrapping you in his protective embrace. His gaze scans the crowd, reassuring you softly, "There are terrible people out there who can get to you, my dear, but fear not, for I won't let them near you."

With him by your side, you feel safe and secure amidst the chaos, his unwavering protection a constant reminder of his love. As you navigate through the throngs of people, your bond grows stronger, forged in the crucible of adversity.

10.Creating Inside Jokes:: You have a collection of inside jokes, often revolving around your height difference, that only you two understand, strengthening your bond and shared experiences.

In the cozy moments you share with Alastor, you both have a collection of inside jokes, often revolving around your height difference. From playful quips about needing a step stool to reach high shelves to exaggerated reenactments of trying to kiss each other without straining, these jokes are a source of endless amusement and strengthen your bond.

What makes these inside jokes special is that they're known only to the two of you, adding an extra layer of intimacy to your relationship. Amidst the chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, these moments of shared laughter become precious, reinforcing the connection you cherish with Alastor.

Although he doesn't like being touched, he can make an exception for his adorable little girlfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry, this isn't as long as my first head canon I have been SUPER BUSY :( I hope y'all joy this anyways~ DON'T hate me I KNOW he's ace but I'm delusional.

#alastor #i have an obsession #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor imagine #alastor x reader

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irisintheafterglow · 7 months

Text

One-Shots

Gojo Satoru

You Are In Love - "you're my best friend," and you knew what it was

...Ready For It? - knew he was a killer first time that I saw him

Hits Different - it hits different 'cause it's you (or, struggling in a situationship with gojo satoru)

Never Grow Up - meeting megumi for the first time

The Archer - all of my enemies started out friends, can he hold on to you?

invisible string - the first time megumi uses ten shadows

even in my worst times, you see the best in me - being the strongest has its downsides, but at least you're suffering with him

life's no fun without a good scare - you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

it's all me, just don't go (meet me in the afterglow) - satoru is jealous but refuses to admit it.

every dead end street led you straight to me - former fuckboy gojo has some things to say at the top of a mountain

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this! - coworkers to lovers with a healthy amount of teenage eavesdropping

he's the death you chose (you're in terrible danger) - married life with husband!gojo means cleaning up bodies at 2am.

Geto Suguru

The Great War - somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Back to December - you gave him all your love and all he gave you was goodbye

say you'll remember me - you were destined to fail from the start, so why does it hurt so badly when he's gone?

dazzling haze, mysterious way about you, dear - need some fluff after reading all the angst above?

tell me that you love me, love me 'til my lips turn blue - being partnered with suguru on a mission takes an unexpected turn

what if all i need is you? - after failed attempts to find a date to a relative's birthday party, your best friend acts as your fake boyfriend.

Blurbs/Drabbles

the stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours - holding satoru and letting him rest, even if it's only for a little bit

it took so long to know someone like you - he doesn't know who he is with you and it scares both of you

bad days and blanket burritos - good ol' satoru bf fluff

Imagines/HCs

And the touch of a hand lit the fuse

how gojo and geto react to their partner being obsessed with them (fluffy !!!)

Gojo Satoru

What, like it's hard? -> law student!gojo

general hcs

when he buys a motorcycle

I'm with the band -> rockstar!gojo

rockstar!gojo meet sexyy

the valentine's day show

quiet moments and teaching you guitar

awards show

Falling for you, on and off the ice -> hockey player!gojo

someone steals your usual rink slot

watching a game

living in winter, i am your summer - he's terrible at figure skating

Kachow -> professional racer!gojo

on the radio

smoke his ass! - pro racer!gojo needs some motivation after a newcomer to the track pisses him off

Geto Suguru

oops? - satoru finds out that you've been seeing his best friend

a quiet moment in the aquarium

napping with you :)

scare actor!suguru

Save a horse, ride a cowboy -> gunslinger!suguru

gunslinger!geto au

Theta Phi Fuckhead -> enemy frat!suguru

ancient grudge, new mutiny

move fast, keep quiet

half the things that haven't happened yet

Series Masterlists

End Game (volleyball captain!gojo x you) COMPLETED

Co-Parenting Megumi with Satoru COMPLETED

I Don't Wanna Live Forever (gojo x you during shibuya) COMPLETED

#irisintheafterglow masterlist

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geminiwritten · 1 year

Text

i’m yours ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you find out that butcher slept with maeve, and attempt to ignore your feelings by going m.i.a. and going home with a complete stranger, only to awake the green-eyed monster living inside of butcher

preface: this isn’t set in canon timeline, it’s basically just using the bit where butcher sleeps with maeve as a bit of a jealousy catalyst

notes: this man has a hold on me... and i feel like this got a little rushed at the end but i still kind of like it, please let me know what y’all think! (also, i’m sorry all my stuff has the same formula, i promise i’m trying to mix it up!)

warnings: a lot of swearing, the ‘sewer-slide’ word, google-translated french, sexual content, and some soft smut

word count: 5315

Things are good, too good, but you’re doing your best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Hughie and Annie are happy, MM is content, and Frenchie is excitedly creating new methods of blowing up Supes almost daily. Butcher is… well, Butcher. He’s grumpy and brash, but seems to be feeling a little more positive lately, focusing more on recon and intel rather than running in with guns blazing.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, you had managed to go grocery shopping without anyone stumbling home bloody and bruised. Frenchie is humming along to the song that had been playing on the radio, carrying most of the plastic bags while MM carries one with you on his back. You were all in such high spirits that he had let you jump on his back at the bottom of the apartment stairs, carrying you up four flights as if you weighed no more than a hiking backpack.

Frenchie chuckles at the two of you as he unlocks the apartment door, entering first and pushing it open all the way. You have to duck a little, giggling and holding on to MM for dear life as he starts jogging toward the couch. He drops the bag on the floor before falling into the sofa, and you squeal as he squashes you.

“Hey,” you exclaim, still laughing, “what the fuck? Steeds don’t sit on their riders!”

“You want to ride me next, petit ange?” Frenchie calls from the kitchen.

You writhe until MM moves, standing up with a satisfied grin across his lips. You flip him your middle finger as he turns away, ushering Frenchie out of the kitchen so he can put the groceries away. You find the TV remote buried in the couch cushions, and just as the old screen flickers to life, Kimiko emerges from the hallway. She looks at Frenchie with a small smile, signing hello before her nose crinkles, and she signs another sentence you struggle to catch as your attention is called toward the master bedroom doors.

Frenchie frowns curiously, “She says that it smells in here.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you lot are stinkin’ up my fuckin’ apartment,” Butcher says, running a hand through his hair.

He looks like shit. His shirt is wrinkled and the buttons are fastened crookedly, his hair is standing up in all directions, and the circles beneath his eyes are several shades darker than usual.

“It is our apartment, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “it is the least you can after making me blow up my last two places, eh?”

Butcher rolls his eyes before dropping into one of the dining room chairs, holding his face in his hands as he takes several deep breaths.

Frenchie looks to Kimiko again before translating, “She says it smells like alcohol and sweat, and a perfume that she has not smelt before.”

“I don’t wear perfume,” you note, “every time we have to haul ass and run, the bottles end up broken or missing, so I gave up.”

MM raises his hands in defence, “Don’t look at me, I haven’t seen anyone but you lot in the past twelve hours.”

“Perhaps it is something we picked up at the shops,” Frenchie shrugs.

Kimiko signs again, and you watch her to listen.

“You can smell a stranger?” you ask with a frown.

“To reiterate,” MM says, “I stayed at a motel alone last night, I was too tired to drive all the way here after visiting Janine.”

“I stayed with Annie,” you point out, “is that who you can smell?”

Kimiko shakes her head, and your heart begins to race anxiously. Neither she nor Frenchie stayed here last night either, opting for one of his old hideouts after scouring the city for any possible missed traces that Vought could use to find you all.

MM turns to Butcher, “Was there someone here last night?”

“Why would you not tell us that there was a break in?” Frenchie demands, his face a mixture of irritation and concern.

Butcher sighs, “There wasn’t a fuckin’ break in, calm down.”

Kimiko pads quietly around the room, subtly sniffing the air around MM and then Frenchie before moving toward you. She inhales above your head and grimaces, before moving to the side and taking a deep breath over the couch.

You shoot up from your seat and stumble toward the kitchen, “Me or the couch?”

She points at the sofa.

“Butcher,” MM says, his voice demanding, “explain before I slap your hungover ass.”

Its only then that you notice the two empty bottles of whiskey, one on the coffee table and one laying on the floor. You back up slowly toward the kitchen, a fresh wave of panic washing over you.

“Someone stopped by,” Butcher mutters into his hands, “that’s all.”

You reach the kitchen bench at the same time Kimiko does, still sniffing like a police dog, and her face twists into a disgusted frown. You startle again, jumping back from the bench as if it had burnt you.

“Care to elaborate?” MM presses.

Butcher sighs, and you can feel a lump growing in your throat.

“We all sleep here too, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “and we deserve to know if it is still safe to do so.”

“‘Course it’s fuckin’ safe,” Butcher says, finally turning his head to face the room. “Maeve came by, alrigh’? Just her, ‘n’ she had some information, so we had a chat and a drink. Is that alrigh’ with you nosey bastards?”

A weight drops in your stomach, anchoring you to the floor as moisture begins to blur your vision.

Kimiko stops sniffing when she reaches Butcher, cringing and stumbling several paces back until she is beside Frenchie.

“You slept with a Supe?” MM gasps.

Butcher huffs and pushes himself up from the chair, “No fuckin’ privacy with you lot, is there?”

MM raises his hands again, “Hey, I’m not judging, just shocked.”

Frenchie’s concern melts into taunting smirk, “No need to be defensive, Monsieur Charcutier, we all have our needs, and I am surprised that you managed to woo such a beautiful woman.”

“Fuck off, Frenchie,” Butcher sighs, dragging his feet toward the fridge.

Their voices blur into white noise as you focus on the slow inhale and exhale of your breath. You wriggle your toes in your boots, forcing yourself to feel your physical body instead of the whirlwind of emotions swirling through your head. It feels like your skull is fracturing with the effort that it takes to contain the storm, but you refuse to let your feelings win. You find a bottle and push them inside, jamming the cork in just as Frenchie snaps his fingers in front of your nose.

You blink, “What?”

“Are you okay?” he asks, a soft crease between his brows.

“Yeah, sorry,” you blink again to quell your watery eyes, “what’s up?”

“Are you hungry?”

You glance over his shoulder at Butcher, his head in the fridge as he ignores MM’s demands to get out of the way.

“Not really,” you reply, “I was actually thinking about going back over to Annie’s, I think I forgot my… my socks.”

The concern between Frenchie’s brows deepens, “You forgot your socks?”

You nod, “My favourite socks.”

“Didn’t know you had favourite socks,” Butcher mumbles as he steps out of the kitchen.

“You don’t know a lot of things,” you state, plastering on a smile that you know doesn’t reach your eyes.

You can feel their curious gazes on you as you turn, retrieving your wallet and keys from the couch before striding out of the apartment door without a second glance. You pull your phone out of your pocket and text Annie to let her know that you’re on your way before switching it to ‘do not disturb’ and zipping it inside your jacket pocket, determined to forget about it until you’ve got a handle on your emotions.

The sun is setting by the time you reach the familiar street on which Hughie and Annie’s apartment is located, and you’re rather proud of the fact that you managed to focus on nothing but your steady steps the whole way here. You look up at the brick building on your left, but instead of turning toward the front steps, your feet carrying you across the street toward the park, not stopping until you’re standing in front of an empty bench.

“Something wrong with that one?” a voice asks, and you startle toward the source of it.

A young man is standing beside you, clad in running shorts and a tight exercise jacket. He doesn’t look menacing, but your whole body tenses as your fight or flight instincts battle for dominance.

“I’m sorry?”

He chuckles, “The bench, I mean. You’re frowning at it as if it’s diseased or something.”

“Oh,” you look back at the moss-ridden seat, “no, I just- I don’t know.”

“Are you alright?”

He buries his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and you let yourself relax, deciding that he isn’t a threat, just an overly friendly stranger.

“I’m fine, sorry,” you sigh, “just had a weird day.”

“That’s nothing to apologise for,” he says, sitting on the bench and looking up at you. “I know the feeling.”

You sit beside him, watching his side profile and slowly realising how attractive he is. His hair is cropped short, shorter than you usually liked, but his eyes are a stunning green and the faint shadow of stubble across his jaw is definitely something you can appreciate.

“Do you often approach strangers in the park?” you ask.

He laughs again, his eyes sparkling under the orange sky, “No, not really, especially not strangers as gorgeous as you.”

You blush at the ground, deciding to focus on your fraying shoelaces rather than the handsome stranger.

“But I figured,” he goes on, “that if I didn’t ask this pretty girl if she was okay, I might not be able to stop thinking about her for the rest of my life.”

You actually giggle, immediately cursing yourself for being so easy, “That’s a long time.”

“I know, right? I didn’t fancy the risk, and hey,” he smiles at you, “looks like it might have been worth it.”

“Maybe,” you smile back, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nate.”

You’re not sure if you’re an idiot or if you’ve just given up on your own personal safety, but you sit and talk to Nate until the sun is well below the horizon. You learn that he’s a journalist and a dog person, and lately he’s been more afraid of Supes than comforted by their presence. You tell him you’re a freelancer, because it isn’t technically a lie, and that you’re in between gigs at the moment but questioning whether you’re really doing what you want to be doing. Also, not a lie.

“I know that this is probably very forward,” he says, his knee bouncing nervously, “but did you want to come back to my place for a drink? I would suggest a bar, but I’m not really dressed for it, and I just get this feeling that as soon as we say goodbye, you’re going to disappear forever.”

You frown, “You’re a real long-term guy, aren’t you?”

His cheeks flush pink, “I don’t have to be.”

As you walk alongside the man you met mere hours ago, you come to the conclusion that you must be suicidal. In the current state that the world is in, who in their right mind goes home with a complete stranger? You, apparently.

His apartment isn’t far from the park, which is a little comforting, knowing that you will have a speedy escape to Annie’s place if this guy does end up being a psycho serial killer. The buildings all look the same as you approach a row of tall brick blocks, climbing the few concrete steps up to the lobby doors before scaling three flights to reach his apartment door.

It’s surprisingly well decorated inside, and you can eye a few expensive items that make you wonder if he really is a struggling journalist, or perhaps a shady underground arts dealer. You take a seat at the kitchen bench as he babbles about how crappy his landlord is and how much money he’s had to spend on the place to make it liveable. The glass of wine he places in front of you is gone within two gulps, and he happily pours you another.

“I feel like I probably should have asked this a few hours ago,” he says with a sheepish smile, “but you aren’t with anyone, are you? Engaged or married, or anything like that.”

You choke on your mouthful of cheap wine, coughing the burn away while he hurries to get you a glass of water.

“No,” you finally reply, “I’m not, at all.”

“Good,” he replies, his earnest grin returning, “I mean, it’s surprising because you’re incredible, but I’m glad.”

You offer him a smile that you hope appears coy and not at all forced before drinking down the rest of your second glass of wine. He moves into the lounge room, and you take the opportunity to pour yourself another generous glass, quickly swallowing the two mouthfuls left in the bottle while his back is still turned. You gingerly place the empty bottle in the sink before following him, dropping onto the soft leather couch as he turns on the television.

A news broadcast lights up the screen, and fiery images of a truck collision flash behind the breaking news banner that reads: ‘QUEEN MAEVE SAVES THE DAY’. Your stomach twists into a knot as the bottle of emotions you had managed to almost forget about begins to break, the glass fracturing and threatening to send you into a full-blown mental breakdown.

“Damn,” Nate sighs, “I know the Supes are pretty sketchy these days, but Queen Maeve is just gorgeous.”

With one last burning gulp of wine, you turn to the man beside you and take his head between your hands, crushing your lips against his. He gasps, but responds quickly, his hands finding your hips and guiding you onto his lap.

The rest of the night is a blur as you attempt to give all of your attention to this stranger that you barely know instead of confronting the green-eyed monster roaring in your belly. He finishes once on the couch, pretty quickly, but you’re not one to judge, before you drag him into the bedroom and away from the incessant news broadcasts of Queen Maeve’s heroic act.

It isn’t your alarm that wakes you, or the sound of Frenchie and MM arguing about how to cook eggs, but rather the unfamiliar scent that douses your breath. Your body trembles with anxiety and your eyes snap open, darting around the strange room as your thoughts scramble to remember how you got here.

“Fuck,” you sigh at the sound of someone snoring beside you.

You gently roll over and slip out of the sheets, cold air immediately nipping at your naked body. You find the nearest item of clothing and slip it over your head before tiptoeing out of the bedroom and into the lounge room. Nerves and hunger mingle inside of your stomach, making you overwhelmingly nauseous by the time you find your jacket thrown over the back of the couch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter as you retrieve your phone from the pocket.

Dozens of missed calls and text messages fill your lock screen, several from Annie and Frenchie, a couple from Hughie and MM, but the majority of them listed under Butcher’s contact name, ‘Big Willy’. You thought it was funny a few days ago.

You quickly text Annie that you’re okay, you’re incredibly sorry, and that you’ll fill her in as soon as you see her. You find your jeans and wriggle into them before finding your panties and tucking them into your back pocket. You scoop your bra and your shirt off the floor on your way to the kitchen, and check your phone again for a reply from Annie. Nothing yet.

You drink the glass of untouched water from the kitchen bench before splashing your face and trying to calm the vibration of nerves coursing through your body.

“Hey.”

You startle at the sudden voice, turning to find Nate in nothing but sweatpants as he emerges from the bedroom.

“Hey,” you murmur.

He frowns, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I’m fine, just- uh, my friends have been calling me,” you gesture to your phone, “and they’re pretty worried.”

“Oh,” he lets out a long breath, “I didn’t even hear it ringing last night.”

You smile weakly, not bothering to explain that you were intentionally avoiding your phone all afternoon.

He steps forward, “So, did you-”

The apartment door bursts open, splinters of wood scattering across the floor as you squeal and Nate jumps away from the blow. Your heart is racing, but your body reacts as it was trained to do, and you dive for a knife from the block beside the stove before freezing as you recognise the figure stalking through the broken door.

“Butcher,” you say, “what the fuck?”

His head snaps toward you, the crease between his brows softening and his eyes looking almost vulnerable as realises that it’s you.

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you and why did you just break my door?” Nate speaks up.

Your stomach sinks as Butcher’s attention is turned toward the shirtless man, murderous intent returning to his face.

“Who the fuck am I?” he spits, “Who the fuck are you?”

Nate looks tiny compared to Butcher, his narrow frame absolutely dwarfed by Butcher’s broad height and intimidating stance.

“I-I’m Nate,” the smaller man says, “and this is my apartment, that’s my door that you just destroyed.”

“Yeah?” Butcher taunts, stalking forward, “An’ what’re you gon’a do ‘bout it?”

Nate looks at you, his eyes frantic and begging for help.

“Butcher, calm down, he’s-”

“Calm down?” he whirls toward you, “You want me to fuckin’ calm down?!”

“Hey, man,” Nate says, “we can talk, you don’t have to-”

“Nate,” you put your hand up, “I’m sorry, but please shut up.”

“Nate,” Butcher repeats mockingly, “if you value your life, I’d listen to ‘er.”

You drop the knife on the bench, “Butcher, can we just leave, please?”

“You don’t get to make any requests right now, sweethear’,” he says, taking a heavy step toward you, “not after the shit you put me through for the past twelve fuckin’ hours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls sarcastically, “maybe ‘bout the fact that you fuckin’ disappeared! You didn’t answer your damn phone, didn’t tell anyone where you fuckin’ were! I got a call from Hughie askin’ if you were back home, ‘cause you texted Annie ‘n’ told her you were comin’, but didn’t fuckin’ show up!”

A pebble of guilt drops into your stomach, but you ignore it, squaring up to him with a scowl.

“So?” you shrug, “I’m an adult, I can do as I fucking please.”

“Not without tellin’ me!” he exclaims, “Not if I don’t know where you fuckin’ are or if you’re even fuckin’ alive!”

“You’re not my fucking father, Butcher!” you shout back, feeling another fissure in the bottle of emotions. “I don’t belong to you, I don’t have to ask you for permission to live my own fucking life!”

His jaw twitches, a tidal wave of emotion crashing through his eyes all too quickly for you to try and discern any of them.

“A-Are you Y/N’s boyfriend?” Nate asks timidly.

You and Butcher turn to him in unison, exclaiming at the same time, “No!”

A beat of silence passes, and Butcher’s glare doesn’t falter. You take a deep breath to try and sooth the storm of frustration threatening to consume you.

“Butcher,” you say softly, “can we please leave?”

His head snaps back toward you, his eyes scanning your body as they fill with realisation.

“Did you fuck her?” he asks, turning back to Nate.

He doesn’t respond, his mouth hanging open as he takes several steps back.

“You gon’a answer me?”

“Butcher,” you say again, “cut it out.”

He takes another menacing step toward Nate, “I asked you a question.”

“W-We slept together, yes,” Nate stammers.

The laugh that leaves Butcher’s lips is chilling, sounding almost mad.

“Oh, pardon my French,” he says, “perhaps I should’a asked if you made sweet fuckin’ love to this gorgeous woman right ‘ere.”

“For fuck’s sake!” you shout, “Stop it, stop whatever the fuck this is, and let’s just fucking go!”

“You’re tellin’ me that you fuckin’ disappeared so you could hide out with this fuckin’ twat?” Butcher exclaims, “You let me worry myself fuckin’ sick so you could get a lousy fuck?”

The bottle explodes, shards of glass cutting you from the inside and sending white hot waves of frustration and anger, and despair rolling through your body.

“I can fuck whoever I want, Butcher!” you scream, startled by the volume of your own voice.

His eyes narrow, but his lips don’t move.

“And you can fuck whoever the fuck you want,” you spit, “obviously.”

You snatch your phone off the bench and stomp toward the door, turning to Nate with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, about… this.”

You continue down the hall and the three flights of stairs, not bothering to check if Butcher is following until you’re outside. The temperature is significantly lower than it was yesterday, but your stubbornness doesn’t let you show it as Butcher strides past you toward the car haphazardly parked at the curb.

You climb into the passenger’s seat, sitting as close as you can to the door and hugging your clothes against your chest as you stare out the window. Tears fill your eyes, your nose growing hot and your cheeks undoubtedly red as you use every ounce of self-control you still have to stave of the inevitable. All you need to do is make it home and make it to your bedroom, and then you can cry. You can curl up with your face in your pillow and sob, and admit that you’re jealous, that you’re hurt, and that you love a man who doesn’t even understand the meaning of that word anymore.

“You look like shit,” he grunts.

You sniffle, keeping your face turned away from him, “So do you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get much fuckin’ sleep,” he says as the car comes to a halt, “I was up all night worryin’ ‘bout whether or not you were fuckin’ alive.”

“Well, I didn’t get much sleep either,” you retort, before pushing the passenger door open and stumbling out.

You hear the car door slam as you hurry up the stairs and into the building, taking the steps two at a time until you reach the apartment door. To your great relief, it’s unlocked, and you let yourself in before Butcher has even made it into the hallway.

“Oh, my goodness, mon amour,” Frenchie gasps, “you’re alive! You’re okay… are you okay?”

You don’t realise your crying until you try to look at him, your vision blurred by heavy tears as they fall in fat droplets down your cheeks.

MM steps forward, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “I’m fine, I was with a-a friend.”

“A friend?” Butcher echoes, the door slamming behind him.

Your blood sizzles in your veins, heated by the overwhelming frustration coiling in your chest.

“How the fuck did you know where I was?” you demand, spinning around to face him.

He doesn’t answer.

“Do you have my fucking phone bugged?”

Butcher blows a long breath out of his nose, the thick vein in his neck throbbing under his red skin. “Look,” he says, “I know that whatever the fuck just happened wasn’t ideal, but why can’t you fuckin’ see this from my point of view?”

“Our point of view,” MM corrects, “we were all worried.”

“I get that!” you exclaim, “I fucking understand that, but what I don’t understand is why Butcher is still acting like such a fucking cunt. You can see that I’m fine! I’m alive, so what’s your problem?”

“What’s your problem?” he snaps, “Why didn’t you answer your fuckin’ phone? Why didn’t you tell anyone where you fuckin’ were? And why the fuck did you go home with a complete fuckin’ stranger?”

“Oh, shit,” Frenchie murmurs.

“Maybe I just needed a fucking break.”

The room falls quiet, the only sound being Frenchie’s soft footsteps as he backs away. You use the clothes in your arms to wipe the fresh fall of tears from your cheeks and try to ease your shaky breaths as you wait for another onslaught of reprimands.

Butcher sighs, “Go shower.”

“What?”

“You need to shower,” he says, stepping forward.

You frown, “Why?”

“You look like shit, and you sm-” he stops himself, pausing when you take a small step back.

“I look like shit and I smell,” you finish for him, “thanks, Butcher.”

You drag your feet toward the bathroom, dropping your clothes on the floor and staring at your wrecked face in the mirror. Your hair is a mess and your face is blotchy and red, with streaks of black painting your cheeks. The shirt hanging loosely from your shoulders is unfamiliar, and something akin to disgust settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Give me your clothes,” Butcher says as he appears in the reflection behind you.

“Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”

He sighs, “I’m tryin’ to help.”

“I don’t want your fucking help,” you turn to him and lean against the vanity, “go offer it to someone else. I’m sure Maeve would love to see your fucking name pop up on her phone.”

His frown disappears, and you can feel the air shift. Fuck. Now you’ve done it. The shards of glass sticking you from the inside have cut right through your chest, slicing it open as your ribcage cracks and unfolds, presenting your pathetic heart to the man who already held it in his hands.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back with determination.

“I-Is that what this is-” he struggles for words, running his hands through his hair, “for fuck’s sake, Y/N.”

Your breath comes and goes in short gasps, the lump in your throat crushing your windpipe as it demands to be felt.

“For fuck’s sake!” he exclaims, before taking one step forward and slamming the bathroom door shut.

Fear sparks through you, and you whimper, “Butcher, please don’t-”

Before you can finish, he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a vice hold as he rests his chin on the top of your head. You sob into his shirt, tremors wracking your exhausted body as every bit of fear and frustration tears you apart from the inside. You’re not sure how you let yourself get this emotional. Maybe it’s the fact that the world is falling apart, and you’re supposed to act like you’re ready to save it? Or maybe it’s because you’re fucking tired of having everything you love ripped away from you, every chance you think you might have at happiness taken from you by the cunts in the sky who call themselves ‘Superheroes’.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

The turbulence inside of you quells simply because you finally acknowledged it, and you manage to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Butcher,” you croak, looking up at him through tear laced lashes, “kiss me?”

He hooks a finger beneath your chin and tilts it up, leaning in to meet you the rest of the way before his lips brush yours. It’s hesitant and soft, barely a touch, and he pulls away too soon.

“You need to shower.”

“Oh,” you try to wriggle out of his arms, but they’re too strong.

“I can smell that fuckin’ twat all over you,” he growls, “an’ it’s makin’ me fuckin’ sick.”

Realisation slaps you across the face, giving you the strength to remember how to hold yourself up as he pulls away. His fingers curl into the material at the neck of your shirt, ripping it apart right down the middle before pushing it off your shoulders and tossing it on the floor.

Another growl rumbles through his chest and the air in the room shifts again, now thick with a tension that has your heart throbbing in anticipation. Your mind races, your thoughts riding rollercoasters as you struggle to catch up with his fast hands. Your jeans are unbuttoned and pooled around your ankles in less than a second, and he takes another moment to devour your naked body before moving to turn on the shower.

You stumble out of your jeans as he quickly sheds his own clothes before wrapping an arm around your waist. He pulls you under the warm stream of water and holds your body against his, the feeling of his bare skin making your head spin. He takes the bottle of bodywash from the small shelf and pops the cap with one hand, turning it upside down and squirting a ridiculous amount all over your chest and his.

You giggle and he grins, returning the bottle to the shelf before crushing his lips against yours. The soap makes your skin slide against his in the most delicious way and you can feel your core clench, eliciting a wanton moan from your open mouth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth and claiming you with hungry, sloppy kisses.

“Didn’t think you’d be jealous,” he murmurs against your mouth, “didn’t think you fuckin’ cared about me.”

You slide your hands across his bare shoulders and behind his neck, finding purchase in his wet hair and tugging gently as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that you have.

“I do care,” you sigh when his lips leave yours to lap at your neck, “I am fucking jealous.”

“Sweethear’,” he whispers, his hands moving to your breasts, “you’ve got nothin’ to be fuckin’ jealous ‘bout.”

His mouth leaves your skin as he turns you to face the wall, pressing his body against your back before pushing you into the tiled wall. You gasp first at the sudden cold, and then at the feeling of him grinding himself against your ass.

“I’m yours,” he growls, his lips against your shoulder, “always fuckin’ have been.”

You still manage to speak despite the pleasure of him threatening to overwhelm you. “Then why?”

One hand wraps gently around your throat while the other splays across your lower belly, teasing the place just below that aches for his touch.

“‘Cause I never fuckin’ dreamed that I’d have you,” he says, his lips at your ear now.

You reach back with one hand, holding the nape of his neck as you turn so that your mouth can meet his in a messy kiss.

“You’ve always had me,” you murmur, “I belonged to you the day I met you.”

His hips buck against your ass, pressing you against the wall and making you whimper.

“You’re mine,” he says, moving back just enough for you to turn around.

You nod as you lean down to kiss his neck. Your tongue laving at his wet skin before your teeth sink in and he hisses, one hand squeezing your hip as the other smacks against the tiled wall.

“All yours.”

You place your hands against his chest, pushing him back enough for you to drop to your knees, your hands trailing down his body until they reach his hips. You dig your fingers in and look up at him through your wet lashes.

“Show me who I belong to.”

END.

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #butcher x reader #the boys #karl urban #frenchie #mm #mothers milk #hughie campbell #starlight #queen maeve #homelander #oneshot #one shot #imagine #fanfic

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luveline · 1 year

Text

radio cure | steve harrington

an unhappy you meets steve harrington and his merry band of dorks. he shows you that some things are worth sticking around for.

5k words, fem!reader she/her used, tw mentioned/implied suicidal ideation please don’t read if that’s going to have a negative impact on you (no graphic imagery. but reader is passively suicidal and dealing with the other factors of that), robin steve + eddie chaotic trio, friends to lovers, multipart, swearing, friendly teasing, sarcasm, artist!steve, 90s au

.•° ✿ °•.

You're twenty two when you decide to kill yourself.

It's a warm day. The sun shines like a flower bud unfurling, a faint hint of golden yellow masked by cloud cover. You're savouring the brief moment of blessed cool as you walk around Lover's Lake, your ipod in one hand, headphones around your neck.

The flowing pants you're wearing help mitigate the heat around your legs, an itching, slick thing. Warmth feels like oil on your skin. You tip your head back and smell the grass, the lake water, the dry mud under your feet. You're thinking it's as nice a day as you're going to get this week, and you're forlorn, because it doesn't make one drop of difference.

You look up at the blue sky, squinting against the light, and you think it to yourself resolutely. This is going to be my last year. When your savings run out you're giving up.

It doesn't feel conclusive. It doesn't feel scary. It's just a decision.

You walk over dry grass until you reach the short pier on the leftmost side of the lake and sit down. You pull your headphones over your ears and bite your lip when the music isn't loud enough. The dock is rough. You're uncomfortable immediately. You want to go home, but you pull out your little craft sketchbook made of yellow paper and a pencil you've sharpened with a pen knife, staring out across the lake for something to strike you. A duck. A goose. Anything at all.

The thing is, you don't want to draw. You aren't some master, though you try, and you aren't a natural talent… You try sometimes. Nothing seems right. Most people have a style, charm, but you could draw a picture perfect copy of the day in front of you and still feel the lack; you have no idea what it is that makes other people's art beautiful, and that's the problem.

It doesn't matter. You put the sketchbook away. You have nobody to impress but yourself, and besides — you're not the first person in the world to feel uninspired. Thousands of people must feel it everyday, and they aren't throwing any pity parties. You peel off your cardigan, ball it up, and lay down with the fabric behind your head. You can hear the soft pant of a dog across the way, the happy chattering of a Frisbee game. Under the dock, little bodies thwack the planks, tiny green frogs that occasionally hop in the grass nearby.

You press your arm against your stomach and you fall asleep not long after that, your ipod playing music a few feet away.

—

Steve Harrington doesn't know why he stops to look at you. You're just a girl enjoying the summer sun, and he doesn't mean to be a creep. But you've left your stuff laying in small hills around you and your body's lax. You're asleep.

He kneels down next to you. Enough room to swing away if you try to stab him for perving. He isn't perving, he reasons. He wants to check if you're okay.

He tilts his ear toward you and holds his breath.

You're snoring.

Good, he thinks, crawling back to the far side of the dock, at least two feet between you. You're sleeping.

He sits down, knees up, hands between his thighs, and looks out across the lake. The sun shines high as the clouds shift to reveal it in full force, a burning yolk. It kisses every bit of green foliage it can find, dappled sunlight everywhere he looks. Steve is out today to draw whatever beauty he can find, and the light across the water riding the rippled waves of ducklings and brave human swimmers seems nice enough. He peers out of the corner of his eye at you, deems you still sleeping, and takes the pocket sized sketchbook out of his denim jeans.

His pencil is a stub folded between the pages. He lays down graphite in big sweeping lines, more focused on the impressions of shape than the specifics. It's hard to see a coloured world in black and white values. Steve isn't great — he's been drawing for two years now, and that feels like both a lifetime and a flicker. Every day he learns something new about making art, and every day he looks back and feels embarrassed at what he made before. The start of his sketchbooks make him cringe. This one is a mixture of pride and tepid reluctance.

Being bad at something is a stepping stone at getting better. Not every drawing he makes is good, but hopefully it's teaching his brain to be better. He doesn't know what he believes about art but he likes to draw, and he has gotten better.

The point isn't in being good, he'd told Robin. I just need something to do. Before I go crazy doing nothing.

He draws the lake. He loves the way it comes into being. Ten minutes can turn grey splotches into trees, and bluegrass, and the heat rising off of the water. He draws a duck when it swims really close, though he has to abandon it when it swims away, leaving a half formed lovecraftian creature to haunt the page. He draws the dock, and his shoes, and your shoes, and your hand curled weakly next to your ipod. He draws your wrist, though he stops quickly.

He looks at your sleeping face.

Steve thinks you don't look like anyone he's ever seen before. He notes your lashes, your brows, and your nose. The sun emphasises the fine hairs across your cheek, and the texture beneath them.

He wants to draw your face, but he thinks drawing your hand and your shoes might have been too much without permission. He lets you sleep for a while, and then when he realises the heat is making him dizzy, he can't leave you there to bake.

He rips a sheet of paper out of his sketchbook and shoves the small book back into his pocket. The dock groans as he stands, and he casts a shadow over your face and upper torso.

"Hey," he says.

You flinch awake.

"Don't panic," he says, which is something a pervert might say, so he amends, "don't freak out, I'm just worried you're gonna cook your brains. I didn't want you to get sick."

You sit up. You look kinda cooked already, blinking and disoriented.

"You okay?"

You don't look up. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you for waking me up."

"Yeah, sure. Here."

He holds out the drawing of your hand. He doesn't think it's good, doesn't want you to see it, but he already did it. Giving it to you will ease his guilty conscience.

It's unlike Steve to bail, but he bails. Your fingers are barely brushing the paper when he's wiping his palms on his thighs and stepping away.

"Bye," he says, uncertain. "Try not to fall asleep again!"

—

It's not so weird. Sure, he'd made your fingers skinnier than they really are, and he made your shoelaces look like spaghetti, but they're good drawings.

You're trying to read a book in the corner of Benny's when he finds you a second time. He hovers, and you're not cool, you aren't, you're working with what you've got. Not many people skills.

“Hi,” he says.

"They were good drawings," you say, in lieu of your own hello, thumbing at the pages of your book all full of jumpy nerves.

"Thank you, I'm… new to it. My best friend, she's– she's actually nicer than she should be about them, I can't lie. I was going to say she thinks I should be banned from picking up a pencil, because I wanted to make you laugh, but. She's nice when it matters."

You can't keep looking down, it wouldn't be polite. You dog ear your paperback and let it lie against the tabletop, greasy to touch but you doubt it'll make a difference. The book is old and had cost you 50 cents at Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's yard sale.

He's tall. Hair falls around his face and curls gently against his cheeks, a sandy brown. He's wearing a hat. He hadn't been wearing one the day he'd given you his drawings, but you can understand why he needs it. The sun is an inescapable force: sun stroke has half the town down for the count. The whole reason that you're in Benny's is because it's air-conditioned and shady.

"Do you want to come and eat with me and my friends?"

You say no automatically. "No, that's okay. I don't wanna," —you don't know what to say, so your voice hikes up awkwardly— "impose."

"You don't have to, but if you want to, you're not imposing." He twists at the waist and nods to a booth across the room, where a boy and girl sit. When they see you seeing them they look away. "Sorry, they're dorks. There's usually more of us, but Jon's in work and Nancy's in Emerson, so…" He seizes up.

You wonder why people are so afraid of being awkward. It terrifies you, to think one day you'll fuck up and be awkward and the other person will remember it and laugh, but looking at him now, you can't see why it matters. It actually makes you feel better, knowing he's worried too.

"I only brought enough for the milkshake," you say.

"I'll get you something."

"That's– no, that's okay."

He hesitates. "You'd be doing me a favour. I love them, really, but I can't stand it when they're together, they bully me."

It would probably be worse to reject his offer and sit here lonely while they laugh and talk. You'll worry they're talking about you.

"Okay," you mumble, picking up your book and your milkshake.

He grins at you and you follow him through the diner. It's not busy today, but there's still feet to fall over and backpack straps to tread on, so you watch the floor.

"My name is Steve, by the way."

You tell him your own name, which brings another quick smile to his face. He slows as he approaches the booth of his friends and beckons for you to slide into the empty side before following you in.

"Guys, this is– Eddie, what the fuck is that? We said no gross shit at the table."

"This, my friend," Eddie says, words rolling around his mouth grandly, "is a monster."

It's a little man made of coffee stirrers, sporks, and chewing gum seams. It's kind of gross, but it's cute. Grossly cute and cutely gross.

"We're about to eat."

"You're stepping on his artistic licence," says the girl, her voice distinctly pretty and a tiny bit hoarse.

"Disgusting," Steve says.

You shift on the leather chair underneath you and anxiety pulses in the bottom of your stomach. They're ignoring you, but not really. Both have lifted their eyes to look at you, and, in sync, they smile. The girl's smile is startling, lip gloss lips and white teeth. Eddie's is softer, less happy and more reassuring.

"I'm Eddie," Eddie says, though you'd figured it out. "That's Robin. Do you think my monster is gross in the gross way or gross in the sick way?"

"He's cute," you admit to thinking. "But the gum…"

"I didn't have any glue."

"Steve told us about his drawings. If he's holding you hostage right now, blink three times, okay?" Robin jokes.

Eddie and Robin lean their shoulders together and start a bit where they count your blinks. There's murmurings about shelters and how they can definitely throat punch Steve hard enough to make him mute. You're stunned at being the object of a joke and don't know how to react, feeling like you've been whacked and now there's cartoon birds flying around your head and they can all see them.

Steve grabs the menus out of the rack and slaps one down in front of everybody. "Alright, team. You know the drill. Last person to choose what they want has to buy drinks." He spares you a glance. "Except you. She's on me because hostages don't pay for themselves."

"I would make such a pretty hostage," Eddie says.

He is pretty, in fairness. Dark curls thick with baby hairs frizzed up in the summer heat frame a pale face. He has big brown eyes.

“And talented,” Robin adds, poking the gum man until he falls flat on his face. The head pops off and Eddie shrieks, not loudly but with a passionate upset about him that makes you laugh.

Steve leans over. “Please choose quickly so I don’t have to pay for Robin's lemonade addiction. No pressure.”

“I’ll just have what you have.”

“With a coke?”

“Sure.”

“Robin?” he asks.

“I want a cheeseburger with a lemonade and then, if you will, another lemonade.”

She dumps her menu in Eddie’s lap, who looks up from his decapitated figure with a look of defeat.

“Wh- hey, she cheated. She hurt my dude.”

“Rules are rules.”

Eddie sulks and accepts everybody’s money. He slinks up to the window like an annoyed cat. After he’s placed the order, he looks back to the table and flips the bird covertly.

“So, how old are you?” Robin asks.

“Twenty two.”

“How’s that?” she asks sympathetically.

“Robin.” Steve chides. “She’s twenty so she thinks she’s a baby.”

“I am a baby. This is my first year not being a teen, which means it’s my first year as an adult. I’m one.”

“We have this argument a lot,” Steve says, though not with any bravado. Simple explanation, his voice soft and warm. “When being an adult actually begins. It’s not the adult part that even matters, it’s the not having rules that fucks people up. Look at Eddie. He’s been out of school for a year and he’s been arrested three times.”

You frown, not because his getting arrested would bother you (depending on the charge), but because you’re surprised, and surprise is quick to appear as anger on your face. His shirt and rockstar rings, his nice smile, his gum man — you’d assumed he was a huge nerd. His arrests are a surprise.

“What for?” you ask, before you can remind yourself that invasive questions are rude.

“Once for indecent exposure– completely accidental. Once for trespassing, and the last time was because he chained himself to a tree outside of Tawny’s bar. They weren’t cutting the tree down,” Steve says. “He, and I quote, wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

“Don’t give away my RAP sheet when I’m not here,” Eddie says, placing a tray of drinks on the table carefully. Three cokes and two lemonades.

“It’s not a RAP sheet if you don’t actually get in trouble. They let him off ‘cause they know his uncle. And also ‘cause it’s Hawkins.” Robin slides her slice of lemon between her teeth, shepherding her two lemonades as far away from everybody as she can, looking extremely hedgy. “I’s a bitch sheet.”

Eddie feigns for her second lemon slice and snickers when Robin defends it, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

“I paid for it!” he says through laughs.

Your hands start to shake. You hide them under the lip of the table but it’s no use. Soon your legs are shaking, your arms, all of you. They’re minute tremors, both invisible and impossible to ignore. You glue a smile to your face and try to calm down. You’re overwhelmed and you don’t know why �� this isn’t a new feeling. You are not the first person to feel this feeling.

Then why does it feel like it?

Sometimes, everything gets so scary so quickly, and you sit there wondering why it isn’t scary for everybody else, and you wonder why they can’t see it on your face how scared you are, and they must see it? They must know you’re fucked.

You’re shot with thoughts. These people, you could be friends. All you have to do is make a good impression. But how should you go about that? How do you talk? What do you say?

“I draw too,” you say, hands clamped between your knees.

Steve’s eyebrows do this little dance. It’s adorable, and it makes you want to be his friend most of all.

“You do?”

“I do. I’m not good, I mean. I used to be better. I’m out of practice.”

“I draw,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Jonathan, too. God, you should see his shit. And he’s an even better photographer. But I draw shitty zine comics. And Robin does the typesetting for me.”

“Oh, wow,” you say genuinely.

“Nancy writes,” Robin says. “So we’re, like, a jerk circle of artists. She’s good, too.”

“She’s good,” Eddie imitates fondly. “I bet she is. Robin’s gonna be a great writer as well, once she gets all these private Nancy lessons.”

Steve puts a hand up and Eddie promptly shuts up. He takes a big, sheepish slurp of coke and you feel like you’ve said something wrong though you barely said anything at all, sipping at your own coke.

“What are you reading?” Robin asks.

You slide the book toward her so she can see for herself. “The Sea, The Sea,” you tell her. “It’s about, uh,” —you’ve only managed to read the first thirty pages, and that’s after reading the first ten five times straight— “this guy named Charles, he’s unique. He’s uh, annoying.”

“You know, Nancy used to have a book that looked just like that,” Steve says.

You laugh weakly. “It must be popular. I got it at a yard sale.”

“Can I open it?” Robin asks.

“Of course. It’s already pretty beat up, I don’t think there’s anything you could do—“

Robin opens the book with one hand, thumb and pinky fingertip pressed to either side, and tries to take a sip of her drink without looking, tipping her glass of lemonade straight into the pages of The Sea, The Sea. What doesn’t get soaked up by your book rushes down the length of the table and into her lap.

Steve reaches across the table to grab up the glass, but the damage is already done. Your lips part. Eddie gawps, throwing a hand over his slack-jawed face.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she says, looking at you with wide eyes. “I have the worst case of butterfingers ever, I’m sorry.”

It’s as if she can’t believe she did it. You fluster when you realise they’re all waiting for your reaction.

“It’s okay!” you say, as loud as you’ve ever spoken in public.

“You can be mad,” Steve assures you.

“No, it was an accident. I’m not mad, it cost fifty cents, and it was totally garbage anyway. I’m really not mad.”

Eddie stuffs napkins under the table and Robin shivers uncontrollably, dishing ice cubes from her lap and the seat. Steve, laughing now, says, “God dammit, Robs,” sounding like she might be the most golden person on the planet.

—

Steve works his hat over your hair the best that he can. “There. Now you won’t die from heat stroke.”

You bring both hands to the hat to encourage it down onto your head. “Steve,” you say, sounding unsure on how to continue.

“It’s on loan.”

You nod and look out over the lake, where Eddie stands at the edge of the dock. "It's getting way too fucking cold for this," he complains, in swim shorts and a shirt, gazing in distrust at the lake’s shimmering surface.

Lake is kind. It is technically a lake, but also technically a really, very pathetic lake that feeds from a pathetic tributary. If you stationed Steve on one side and you the other, he would strain to hear you talking. Likely infected with brain eating amoeba or tadpoles or leeches. Slimy things. It’s less disgusting than Lover’s Lake, a condom cesspit, so that’s a plus.

You aren’t looking any more eager about jumping in than you had been, thighs naked and kissed by the hem of an oversized, black t-shirt. It’s wrinkled. Steve kind of loves it.

"Just jump in, you big babies," Robin says.

She'd already jumped in, screamed at the cold, and now languishes in the chest height water in front of the small fishing dock with a smug smile on her face. "Not you," she says to you. Steve rolls his eyes.

You shake your head, hair slipping out of the hat. You sigh as you pull it off and readjust the sizing band.

"I guess I am being a baby,” you say to him quietly. “The sun’s been out all day, how cold can it be?” You’re not feeling confident. It seeps into your voice, to which Steve lends a placating smile.

"Really fucking cold."

"Eddie, shut up. Y/N, it's fine. You'll like it."

“I really don’t think she’ll like it.”

Steve doesn’t either, but he wants you to feel included, and less tense. Distract you from whatever it is that’s giving you such a big case of the frownies, and prove he and his friends aren’t just book-ruining hooligans.

Eddie finally jumps in over Robin’s head, disappearing into the not quite blue water with a cut-off curse. He appears again a few seconds later, black hair slicked to his face, neck and shoulders, wiping the water from his eyes as he splutters and giggles boyishly.

“Shit, Stevie,” he says. “Not that cold after all.”

“You don’t have to jump in, you can just ease off the dock, if that’s better,” Steve says.

“Frogspawn,” you murmur.

Steve does a bunch of flexing, throws in a jumping jack for good measure. “Alright,” he says, holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”

You shake your head gently.

Steve doesn’t wanna embarrass you further, or insist when you really don’t want to, so he nods and smiles and takes a running jump into the lake. Robin and Eddie both swear and dart away as his body collides with the surface of the water, and he sinks like a well-practised stone to near enough the lake bed, feet gracing slippery pond weed and things he’d rather not think about. The air shatters out of his lungs and the water, despite the summer sun, is cold. It feels amazing — he hadn’t realised how warm he was until the temperature abruptly shifted.

He rushes back up to the surface and shakes his hair out like a dog, water running down his face and shoulders in fast thick rivulets. He peels his eyes open and turns to find you still hesitating on the dock. Robin splashes at Steve in retaliation for his hair splatters and Eddie laughs evilly as he joins in.

“Come on!” he begs you. “I told you, they bully me! I need back up!”

You toss his hat on the dock. The jump you take into the lake is timid but enough to miss the frogspawn and not break your legs, a cold splash of water and you’re there. Luckily, your presence has Robin and Eddie both stopping in their cruel tracks, and you don’t have to save Steve after all.

Your happy laughter is stunning.

"It's so cold!" you squeal, water in your eyelashes.

Eddie takes one of your hands and together the four of your tread into deeper water.

"Now that all who can be present are present," he says, falling into his dungeon master drawl, "it's time we commence the The Tournament. Swimmers, take your stations."

Everyone falls into line. You don't know what you're falling into line for, raising your timid voice to ask, "What's the game?"

"The game is me and you dunk the ever-loving out of dumb and dumber," he says.

"Hey, what?" Robin asks. "How come you get her? She's a total wild card, she might win the game all by herself."

"Or she might really suck. We don't know, and so in the interest of fairness, I propose she swims with me." Eddie's wet sleeve sticks to your skin as he nudges you. "But you don't suck, do you?"

"Um…"

"Attagirl. On your marks, get set, go!"

You spend an hour like that. Steve and Co, they're stupid, but they aren't stupid stupid. The Tournament is a series of chasing and dunking (stupid but fun) wherein you get to throw yourself on the shoulders of the person you're chasing and submerge them (stupid again). You can't hold them down, though, they aren't trying to drown one another. Much.

The sun regretfully starts to set. If it's anything like the last few days, that means it's likely near 10PM, and they're all working tomorrow.

"Do you have work tomorrow?" Steve asks in concern, after he's heaved himself up onto one of the huge stones on the opposite side of the lake.

Cattails obscure you from view on your own stone. Across the lake, your possessions lay thankfully unscathed on the dock. Robin sits as close as she can to Steve on his rock, kicking water at Eddie every time he tries to approach.

"You fucking rat," he fumes, mouth full of lake water.

"I'm not really working right now,” you say.

"Do you need a job?" Eddie asks. "They're hiring— Harrington, restrain your creature! They're hiring at the Palace Arcade, aren't they?"

Steve nods voraciously. "Yeah! Hey, we can get you an interview no problem, they probably won't even ask you that many questions. I mean, Keith worked there."

"Don't be mean about Keith," Robin says, though she doesn't really like him. He thinks it's akin to defending your deadbeat older brother.

"I don't know, I think even a couple of questions might be too many," you worry.

"How come?"

You pull the fluff off of a cat tail, and it explodes in your hands. Steve yanks one down to do the same, watching the fibres float across the lake's disturbed surface with a cool breeze. Robin shivers beside him, sensitive to the cold in her wet clothes, the adrenaline of swimming and almost but not really dying wearing off.

"I'm bad at stuff like that."

"I don't think anyone's good at interviews at our age," Eddie says, nose wrinkled as cat tail floats toward him. "We're, like, babies."

"I always feel like I'm really old," you confess. You look down at your naked knees. "Like I wasted all the good years already."

"What, school?"

"And the four years since," you say.

Steve gets it, in a way. His high school years sucked, and he'd maybe thought he'd get out of Hawkins on a track or swim scholarship, basketball — anything. But he's here still, and at first that hadn't been what he wanted. Sure, he'd expected it, but in different ways.

Steve pushes back the cattails to see you clearly. "I didn't even get any real good years until just now," he says, as kindly as he can.

"I failed senior year twice," Eddie speaks up, "I kinda thought I was wasting my life too, but if I didn't, I wouldn't even know Robin, and she's, like, my best friend."

He throws his hands over his face before Steve can kick a huge wave of lake water into his eyes. "Get your own," Steve fumes. He's not really mad.

"Yeah, these are the good years," Robin says, "probably. I never had guys fighting over me in high school." She laughs and tucks her wet hair behind her ears, her freckled cheeks pale in the oranging light of the sunset.

You hold your hands out for Eddie and he finally climbs onto one of the rocks. From this side of the lake, you can watch the sun set behind the silhouettes of Hawkins town a half mile away. It dips slowly down, meandering almost, a pearl sinking through layers of raspberry pink and orange and, as Steve holds his breath, that sudden flash of electric green.

"I'm blind," Eddie mumbles, falling back into the rocks and grass.

"Shit, that was cool." Robin stands up and stretches. "I'm so cold I'm gonna die right here. Steve, do you still have a blanket in your car?"

Steve looks over at you again. You look shell-shocked, not quite awed. He doesn't know what emotion you're feeling, only that you're feeling it, eyes wide and set across the lake at the darkened sky, lights from the buildings like stars shimmering in your pupils.

He stands up and offers his hand to you. When you take it, he pulls you up without hesitation, not a flicker of doubt or an ounce of struggle.

"I'll get you that interview," he says, questioning, soft. If you want it.

Your fingers linger in his palm.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you."

"Come on!" Robin says, taking your other hand and tugging without apology, barefoot over the asphalt path surrounding the lake. "Before the gnats come out."

"We might see fireflies if we stick around," Eddie says.

They bicker. Steve lets go of your hand and you and Robin walk just ahead, your head bobbing between his two arguing friends like you're watching a quickfire tennis match.

You turn to the side and hide a smile. Steve sees it, and he figures it's a start.

"Munson," he hollers, "how about you stay and watch the fireflies and you tell us all about it? Me and the girls aren't gonna freeze out here so you can get back in touch with nature."

It's a bad joke, but it works. "Fuck you, Harrington. The ladies wanna see the lightning bugs, don't you?"

"I can't remember the last time I saw them," you say.

"Then we have to stay," Eddie says smugly.

You all crowd the back of Steve's car, the heaters on but not doing a lot, the blanket stretched over Robin's shoulders. She tucks it behind your back, and you all look out to the night and scout for bugs.

"There," you whisper, pointing.

Green dots of light rise from the dry grass like tiny lanterns, a handful at a time.

"Jonathan's gonna be sad he missed this," Robin murmurs.

You try to count them all. Four voices whispering bets into the night air, though the real number isn't possible to calculate. "Winner gets a new paperback on Robin," Eddie jokes, swiftly quietened by a barrage of elbows to his side.

They let you win.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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lipglossanon · 1 year

Text

I Can Be Your Thrill (Can I Be Yours?)

❀*̥˚─◌──◌──❀*̥˚❀*̥˚──◌──◌─❀*̥˚

subby steobro!Leon S. Kennedy x older fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, reader is only a few years older than Leon but everyone’s 18+ just fyi, subby Leon, needy Leon, lovesick Leon, big dick Leon 😌, bossy reader, kissing, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), cum eating, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, uhh that’s all I can remember 😆

slightly proofread for once 😯 😆

Title from Flowers by The Neighbourhood

❀*̥˚─◌──◌──❀*̥˚❀*̥˚──◌──◌─❀*̥˚

It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon and you find yourself at home alone, which is always nice. Your mom and stepdad left on some overnight gambling trip leaving you and your dorky stepbrother home. Dorky might be a little harsh you think. Leon’s sort of corny but in that endearing kind of way.

He tries so hard to be a doting little brother that you’ve developed a soft spot for him. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s probably the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s funny to you that for him to be so much bigger than you, you’re the eldest. You sigh out loud, mentally picturing your younger, tall, buff stepbrother; he doesn’t make it easy.

Once he and his dad moved in with you and your mom, you both ended up going to the same high school. Since you’re only a few years older, you and your friends used to tease the cute little brother you inherited with your mom’s new marriage.

Leon was a good sport about it when you look back on those times, he let you drag him everywhere; he even let you use him as a guinea pig for your lipgloss or nail polish testing. He’d sit on your bed while listening to the radio as you painted his nails whatever fun color you wanted to test out, not wanting to use your own cause where’s the fun in that?

You frown to yourself; you used to hang out with Leon a lot until you graduated. Now with a few years of college under your belt, taking online courses while working a part time job, you don’t really see him as much anymore. Your parents think it’s the best thing for you to stay at home, not wanting you to struggle when earning your degree, so at least you get to see Leon from time to time.

Speak of the devil, you can see from the couch as Leon comes through the front door, kicking his shoes off before he even notices you lounging in the living room.

You watch with a little smile as you see him get flustered at what you’re wearing; it’s nothing too crazy, but the shorts ride a little high and your shirt’s so thin that you can nearly see your nipples. If you needed, you could argue that you’re relaxing at home so it’s no biggie.

Also you just love to tease Leon. He’s so sweet to you that it kind of makes you want to pick on’em just a little bit.

“Welcome home,” you smile up at him as he walks closer to the couch.

“Thanks,” cheeks pink as he shyly replies, “you just hanging out here today?”

You hum in agreement and bring your legs up to criss cross them, patting the couch cushion next to you.

“Wanna join me?”

His eyes dart nervously to you then back to the spot before he nods.

“Sure.”

He sits down but you shift until you’re sitting side by side, thighs nearly brushing. You practically drape yourself on his arm as you throw your legs across his lap.

You hear him gasp a little as his posture stiffens. Smiling to yourself, you walk your fingers down his thick bicep to his forearm.

“What’d you get up to today, little bro?”

He shivers and clears his throat, “O-oh uh s-some of the guys wanted to c-chill.”

His little friends used to come all the time, and would always hit on you. You sort of egged it on just because it ticked Leon off. The last time they dropped by, the suave one, Luis, tried his damndest to get you to go out with him. You hammed it up with giggling and touching his arm, but really just kept it up for Leon.

Once Leon actually saw what was going on, he grabbed you and tossed you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He walked to your room and dropped you down onto the bed.

“Don’t talk to Luis,” Leon’s blue eyes narrowed at you, “he’s bad news.”

You raised up to sit crossed legged on your bed ignoring the wetness pooling in your panties.

“Aww, you worried about little old me?” You laughed, feeling excited at Leon’s attitude.

“I mean it, sis,” he pouted at you (pouted! ugh it makes you swoon to think back on), “please don’t go out with him.”

You smiled up at him and make grabby hands. A relieved smile crossed his face and he let you pull him down for a hug.

“Promise I won’t, Leon,” he sighed into your neck at your words, goosebumps racing across your skin.

“Thank you,” as he pulled back you saw a blush cross the bridge of his nose.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you ask, “Well did you have fun?”

“Y-yeah,” his voice is soft, “we met up with some girls from school.”

“Oh?” you press closer to him, squishing your breasts against his arm, “did you hit it off?”

You see his cheeks darken with a blush as he ducks his head down with a mumble.

“Hmm?” you press closer pushing your face next to his, feeling the heat of his blush.

“Kinda,” he pulls back, eyes watching you nervously, blush now reaching down to his neck.

“Kinda?” you tilt your head, baring your neck to Leon, drawing his gaze to your skin, “well did you get a cute girl’s number or what, little brother?”

He closes his eyes with a small shiver, before reopening them with darker pupils, “No, I-I didn’t. A few of the other guys did.”

“Aww,” you cluck your tongue, “better luck next time, Leon,” you reach up and ruffle his hair with a giggle.

He huffs a laugh, eyes soft as they watch you, “Yeah maybe next time.”

You both smile at each other, soft and sweet, the moment stretching between the two of you taffy thick.

He sways towards you and pauses so close your eyelashes brush. His chest hitches but before he can say anything there’s a knock followed by the doorbell chiming.

You’re both slow to pull away, Leon shaking his head as he pushes you to stay on the couch.

“I got it,” his eyes drop to your chest then legs before dragging back up to your face, eyes serious, “don’t move.”

You giggle and press your foot against his thigh, pushing him away from the couch.

“Okay, Mr. Man-of-the-house, go see who it is.”

He smiles at you, grabbing your ankle tugging it gently, “That’s right, so stay here.”

Butterflies light up your insides as he turns and walks over to the front door. He answers the door, but doesn’t move so you can’t even see who’s there. Nosiness getting the better of you, you move off of the couch and sneak over to the door.

“You cut out early, Leon,” a male voice gripes, “what am I gonna tell Ada? She’s been bitching at me for weeks to get you to show up to this group date and you blow us off?”

Leon shifts his weight to cross his arms as he leans against the door jamb. You bite your lip as you let yourself do a once over of his big biceps and muscled forearms.

“Yeah, so? I’ll tell you like I told Luis, I’m not interested. Ada and I went out one time and she ghosted me ever since. Why the hell would I want to see her again?”

You frown at Leon’s back. Ada.. Ada.. Ada… the name seems like it should ring a bell but you’re drawing a blank.

“You know that’s just how she is,” the voice bargains, “she likes playing hard to get, makes her mysterious or some shit. C’mon, if we head out now we can catch up with’em before the movie.”

Leon’s posture goes cold, “Then fuck off, Krauser. Ada can play hard to get all she wants but I’m not interested,” he shrugs, “I’m not going.”

You take a side step and the floor creaks loudly. Leon straightens up and gives a quick glance at you before turning back to Krauser.

“Oh, I see,” Krauser laughs, “you got plans with some hot little number, eh comrade?”

You roll your eyes and walk towards Leon, weaseling your way under his arm as he tries to block the door from you.

“Hi,” you pop up with a grin, pressing your side all against Leon’s, “it’s nice to meet you! I’m Leon’s sister.”

You come face to face with a ruggedly handsome guy who has an air of jock mentality. A slow grin overtakes his features.

“I didn’t know Leon had a sister,” he looks over at him, “shame that it must’ve slipped his mind.”

“Yep,” Leon grit out, trying to subtly pull you back in the house.

Krauser’s glacier colored eyes rake down your body salaciously, “Why don’t you come along with us? I was going stag tonight so you can be my date.”

You bat your eyelashes at him, “As appealing as that is sauerkraut, think I’m gonna pass.”

Leon’s lips twitch hard to stifle the laugh building in his chest as he finally tugs you back behind him.

“You heard the lady,” Leon grinned at Krauser’s dumbfounded expression, “have a nice night, Krauser.”

Shutting the door in his face, Leon loses it. He grabs you around the middle and buries his face in your neck as he laughs.

“I can’t believe you,” he wheezes, “god, he’s never gonna live this down.”

You giggle and rub your hands through Leon’s hair, “C’mon let’s go watch some shitty TV. I wanna hear about this group date you ditched.”

He groans but lifts his head up, pulling his arms back, “Yeah like that sounds appealing.”

You grab his hand and pull him until you’re both sitting on the couch, similar to earlier only now your back is against the arm rest as you practically sit on Leon’s lap while he faces the tv.

“Spill,” you wrap both arms around one of his and jostle him, “I wanna hear why you turned down a hot date with Ada,” you do a poor job waggling your eyebrows at him making him scoff.

He rolls his eyes, “You don’t even know who she is.”

“So?” you pout, “dish! I wanna know!”

His hands rest on your thighs, randomly massaging and tracing his fingers along the skin as he talks, “We met up and went out and then she completely ghosted me. Ignored my calls and texts, blocked me on all of her socials.”

You feel a flicker of annoyance that only ramps up as Leon talks, voice sounding resigned—matter of fact.

“I mean I guess she was out of my league. She was a new transfer, s’why you don’t know her,” he continues, “but everyone was chasing after her and I just lucked up on getting a date with her.”

“Leon,” you say his name softly, wanting him to feel better.

He keeps his gaze down on your legs as he keeps running his hands along them, “And we also hooked up that night, but then after she just ignored me so I kinda left it at that.”

You reach out with your fingertips and gently grab Leon’s chin, turning him so he faces you.

“You don’t need someone like that, Leon,” your eyes are heated, indignation making your voice clipped, “that was super shitty of her to do and you definitely deserve better. She sounds like a fuck boy,” you roll your eyes with an angry huff, “actually if you want, we can catch up with your sauerkraut friend and she can catch these hands.”

He laughs at you—with you, sea blue eyes soft and fond, “Mm I think she might kick your ass and then I’d have to kick her ass, which would result in definite jail time.”

You fake gasp, “The audacity Leon Scott Kennedy! I could totally kick ass. You’ve never even seen me fight!”

He laughs again, hands sliding up to your sides to graze your ribs, “Oh yes I have, you try to fight me every time I tickle you and you always lose.”

“I let you win, like a good big sister does,” you sniff haughtily, squirming as Leon’s fingers start to lightly dig into your sides, “you better not, Leon.”

“Or what?” he grins, fingers slowly walking their way down your ribs to dig into your hips.

You squeal and kick out your legs but Leon just grabs you and drops you into his lap so he can tickle and pinch your sides.

“Leon!” breathless laughter bubbles out of your throat, “stop! You’re so mean!”

“C’mon fight me off, show your little brother how tough you are,” he taunts, “c’mon, you said you could do it.”

You keep squirming, trying to catch your breath and failing as giggles escape your lips. You try to grab at Leon’s hands but he twists them out of your grip easily and he digs them back into the spots that make you squeal the loudest.

On one particular jab into your ribs, you rock your hips just right and feel how hard Leons gotten underneath you. He hisses, flushing red all over as he grabs your hips to hold you still—away from his half chubbed cock.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he looks off to the side, embarrassment and shame radiating off of him in waves, “just give me a minute and I’ll, uh, leave.”

“Leon,” you pull in a breath trying to regulate your breathing from all the laughing, “hey look at me, please.”

He slowly drags his attention back to you, a hang dogged expression on his face.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, hoping he can tell how much you mean it, “promise, okay? If anything, I’m kinda flattered.”

You smile at him and he gives you a weak one in return.

“Y-yeah? You’re not grossed out or anything?” his small voice makes your heart pang in your chest.

“Of course not,” you assure him, running your hands through his hair to soothe him, “you can’t help it when you have a warm body rubbing all over you, it’s just hormones at that point.”

His face drops further, “Sure.”

You stop petting his hair and let your hands settle on his shoulders, “Hey I mean it.”

“I know, just that—“ he clams up and looks away again.

“Leon,” you lightly shake him, “hey I promise it’s okay, it’s not me that—“

“But it is,” he blurts out, hands tightening their grip on your hips, “it is because you’re on my lap.”

“Oh.”

It comes out breathier than you intended but it does get Leon’s attention, eyes questioning and anxious.

He’s not expecting you to move again so you easily rock down on his thickening cock, making him grip you tighter and stilling your movement.

“What—“

You bite your lip, arousal at the situation making your clit throb and panties wet.

“Leon,” you sigh against him and grab one of his hands to move it down to your hot cunt, thin shorts already becoming damp with slick.

His pupils blow wide as you let go of his hand letting him touch you with his broad palm.

“This is— you’re so—“ he stutters, eyes darting from yours down to where he’s cupping your pussy, “can I?”

You giggle. He’s so adorable right now, so overwhelmed and nothing has even happened. You rock against his palm with another sigh.

“Mm should probably take this to your room,” you lean forward and whisper in his ear, “gonna get you all wet and messy, baby brother.”

He groans and shuffles to the edge of the couch.

“Grab my neck,” he directs, grabbing your ass and lifting himself up.

You gasp then laugh, “God you really are strong.”

He somehow blushes harder, “I guess.”

You kiss his warm cheek as he quickly carries you to his room.

“You are, Leon,” you murmur and kiss his ear, “you’re so kind and sweet,” you kiss his neck, “and handsome.”

He leaves the door open once he enters his room, kneeling on the floor to gently sit you on the bed. Your belly swoops to see him at your feet gazing up at you like you hung the moon.

“Should we be doing this?” he whispers in the quiet, “it seems..”

“Dirty?” you ask, watching as his eyes study your face, “but doesn’t that make it hotter?”

He whines and presses his face against your thighs, hiding his face, voice muffled as he whispers, “Yeah, ‘m so hard right now it hurts.”

“Poor baby,” you coo and pet his hair, nipples hard and pressing against your shirt as he whines again.

“Get up here and lay down for me, Leon,” you tug his hair making him lift his head with a moan, pupils dark.

“You don’t want me to..” he trails off, cheeks so flushed he looks feverish, “you don’t want me to do anything first?”

You smile at him, heat rushing over your body at his sweetness, his neediness.

“Maybe later, pretty boy,” his eyes flutter at the nickname, “want you up here first, okay? Can you do that? Be a good boy for me?”

He moans loudly, and nods jerkily as he crawls up onto the bed next to you.

“Yeah, wanna be a good boy for you,” he lays flat on his back, cock tenting his jeans obscenely making your mouth water.

“Shirt,” you gesture and he quickly takes it off.

You straddle one of his legs, tapping the button of his jeans with a fingernail, “Wanna get all the way undressed for me, baby brother?”

His hips buck up, “Can’t—can’t c-call me that,” another low moan as he slips his jeans and boxers off, cock slapping against his stomach precum drooling from the uncut tip.

You sigh in pleasure as you run your fingertips over his thick thighs, “Why not? I think we both know you like it.”

Your eyes finally shift from his bobbing erecting up to his blushing face, “I know I do, baby brother.”

His cock jerks and drips all over his stomach making you smile coyly at him, “Mm see? At least he agrees with me.”

Leon moans, hips humping the air, “Please.”

You move your hand from his thighs to feather your fingertips against his balls before wrapping around his dick. Your fingers close around him in a fist, making you drip once you see they aren’t even able to touch.

“Leon, you’re so big,” you whisper excitedly, slowly stroking down then back up.

“Y-you like it? Don’t think it’s too much?”

You drop a kiss to his sticky tip making him groan.

“Definitely not,” you bite your lip, eyes watching as he keeps oozing precum all over your knuckles, “you’re really big.. but I like it. Gonna stretch me out so good.”

He whines, back arching as his hips fuck your fist.

“S-she said it wasn’t— that it was too much, not good for—“

Your expression softens as you slow your fist, “Leon, she’s an idiot. Every girl I know would fucking love to sit on your dick.”

He moans brokenly, cock kicking hard in your hand.

“R-really?”

“Really,” you smile at him and he shakily returns it.

You go back to firm strokes, quickly picking up speed and tightening your fist around his dick.

“So good, so g—fuck,” he whines, eyes looking up into yours as you jerk him off.

“Yeah?” you’re smiling at him, voice sweet, “want you to feel good. You’ve been such a good boy, haven’t you? Such a good little brother.”

His hips jump up as his cock kicks and drools precum all over your fingers, making them stickier as you stroke him off.

“Wanna be your good boy, wanna be big sister’s best boy,” he pants, eyes dropping back to your hand that’s barely able to wrap around his fat dick.

You pull his foreskin down to tease the drippy tip of his cock with your other hand making his thighs twitch like crazy.

“F-fuck, fuck, so sensitive, ungh—“

“Leon,” you nip at his earlobe, “I really want to ride your face.”

His cock leaks all over your hand as he whines, “Please, please, wanna eat you out so bad. Sometimes it’s all I can think about.”

You squeeze your thighs together, “Tell me. Tell your big sister what you’ve thought about.”

He grinds his head back against his pillow, “Burying my face in your pussy, and not being able to stop til you’re satisfied, and you just ignoring how hard I am,” he shivers, dick weeping precum.

“What else?” you whisper, softly stroking his cock.

“J-just using me as your dildo,” he gasps, abs tightening when you squeeze his cock, “fuck. Yeah, you just using my dick as a toy, not letting me cum o-or making me cum in you and still ride my dick even though I’m too sensitive.”

You moan and kiss him, letting him sloppily lick into your mouth. Leon’s eagerness makes your cunt throb.

“You wanna nut in me, baby brother?” you moan, jerking him off faster, “cream your sister’s pussy? Mmm so dirty.”

His eyes roll back as you duck your head down to kitten lick the fat head of his cock.

“S-stop, I ungh, I’m gonna c-cum,” his hips jump up, pressing his cock against your mouth and smearing precum across your lips.

You pull completely away, not even touching him anymore, to watch his cock throb and kick against his stomach.

“T-thank you,” Leon’s tear filled eyes look at you with complete adoration, “don’t wanna cum too soon.”

You grin at him, “Even if you cum, I’m not stopping, little bro.”

He rocks his hips up with a low whine, “Not fair that you’re so hot, ‘m gonna blow my load before we start anything.”

You slip your shorts off, taking your panties and placing them around his head— making sure the gusset is right over his nose and mouth. He moans, hands clenching his sheets as his tongue laps up the slick puddled in your panties.

“Isn’t that better?” you coo, climbing into his lap.

You both moan as you drag your slick cunt over his cock, sandwiching him between your pussy lips so the head bumps your clit on every slow roll of your hips.

Leon’s hands grab your hips but only to hold you as you rub your pussy all over his cock.

“So good,” he moans, muffled behind the fabric, “you’re so wet.”

“What, you’ve never had a girl get this wet for you?” You laugh, “I find that hard to believe little brother.”

He shakes his head, “N-no, not like this. Not like you. Fuck, you’re so—“

You arch down, letting his dick catch the edge of your hole before pulling back.

“I’m so what?” you let your nails drag up from his stomach to his heaving chest, teasing across his nipples.

His back arches into the feeling, pink buds hardening under your fingertips.

“You’re so perfect,” he whines as you settle on his cock, “the perfect big sister. So smart and sexy a-and god now I know you have the best pussy.”

Warmth blooms in your chest at just how earnest he sounds, “Really? How many pussies have you actually seen, Leon?”

“A c-couple,” he stutters out nervously, “I’ve only slept with two people.”

“Aw,” you pout at him, leaning up to pull the panties off his face wanting to see his eyes, “I was hoping I could steal your first. Pop my little brother’s cherry.”

He blinks at you, dark eyes adjusting as he blurts out, “You can, I mean the other two times weren’t great to be honest. Just quickies in the backseat of a car.”

“Leon,” a smile stretches across your face, “are you saying we should pretend I’m your first?”

He nods, “Yes, yes that’s what I mean. Please. Never thought I’d get a chance with you,” he blushes all the way down his chest, “but always wished you were my first.”

“That’s.. so sweet, Leon,” the butterflies flare up in your chest again, making you feel bubbly, “did those other girls not wanna take their time with you?”

He grins sheepishly at you, “I guess not? They didn’t exactly call afterwards as you know, so guess it wasn’t any good.”

Your brows pinch, “Leon, you deserved a good first time. Someone should have taken you apart in a bed until you couldn’t move.”

He rocks his hips up against your pussy, sliding against your clit making you moan.

“Will you?” he pleads up at you, “I know you’d make it so good for me.”

You sigh acting put out but you can’t wipe the smile on your face, “I was going for a dirty quickie, but I guess we can make it sweet.”

“We can do both,” he grins at you trying for coy but landing on saccharine, rubbing his dick against your clit, “wouldn’t mind my big sister fucking me stupid.”

You whine and grind down on Leon, “Next time, you can fuck me wherever you want.”

“In the living room? Wait,” he groans, “wanna fuck you in the shower. Finger you while you jerk me off til everything’s all wet and slippery.”

“Yes,” you pant, grinding harder against him, “you better finger me til I squirt.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he whines up at you, “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep talking like that.”

You bounce on his lap so his cock wetly smacks against your pussy.

“Oh really?” You give him a teasing smile, “my pretty little brother gonna cum all over himself before he even puts it in?”

“P-probably,” he whines as you giggle at him.

“You’re so cute, Leon,” you sigh, stroking his nipples with your fingertips and watching his abs jump, “I wanna cum on your cock so you’ll have to wait on eating me out.”

He mewls, watery eyes fluttering, “But you said you were gonna sit on my face.”

Your cunt throbs, “Mmm save that for later, big boy.”

He bucks his hips, “Promise?”

You giggle and raise up on your knees, “Promise, baby brother.”

He moans, loud and open mouthed. While he’s distracted, you grab the base of his cock and center it over your dripping hole. He drags his eyes down to watch as you slowly sink down his throbbing dick.

“Fuck,” your brows pinch, “you’re so big, Leon.”

He moans again, hips humping up into your pussy making you squeal as he buries his cock halfway into your wet hole .

“So good,” he slurs up at you, “pussy s’fucking good.”

You give a strangled laugh, easing yourself inch by inch down the rest of Leon’s thick cock until you’re sitting flush against him. He’s so deep it feels like he’s in your throat.

“Fuck,” he whines, rubbing his hand over your belly where you can feel his dick throb, “I’m s-so deep.”

He can’t hold his head up from the overwhelming pleasure, letting it drop down onto his pillow with a low groan.

“Mmm yeah you are,” you dizzily reach down to feel him bulging your lower belly, “you’re gonna ruin my pussy, Leon.”

“Yeah?” he’s moaning as your fingers stroke over the bulge from his dick, “you like it? Feels good?”

Warmth buzzes in your chest at his sweet earnestness.

“Yeah, Leon,” you sigh softly, settling yourself down on him, letting you both get used to the feeling.

“Wanna be your good boy,” he’s grabbing at your hands to put them on his chest, “wanna be good for you, so good for my big sis.”

You push off of his pecs, raising up just a few inches to slide back down making him whine and buck up into your clenching heat.

“You are being so good, Leon, so pretty and sweet for me,” you coo, “got such a nice big cock for me to use.”

“Yes,” he hisses, “use it, use me whenever you want.”

“Mmm,” you moan, slowly riding him, dragging out the syrupy hot pleasure between you, “see? Such a good baby brother.”

“Can I play with your tits?” he asks, eyes dark and needy, “really wanna touch’em.”

“Yes,” you sigh sitting back on him to slip your shirt off, breasts bouncing with the motion.

“God fuck you’re so—“ he squeezes his eyes shut for a minute before heatedly looking back up at you, “god, you’re gorgeous. Lookit those fucking tits, ‘m just, you’re—“

He cuts himself off with a low whine as you grind down in his lap from the praise.

“Mm y’sure know how to flatter a girl, little brother,” you giggle at his panting moans.

“S’true,” he gets out, practically drooling as you slowly bounce on his cock, “can’t believe you’d let me fuck your perfect pussy.”

You whine and hump yourself down harder on his cock, splitting your pussy open on every thrust.

“Leon,” you moan at him, taking his hands and putting them on your breasts, “god, you’re gonna get me addicted at this rate.”

“Good,” he groans, “want you to use my dick anytime you want. Use me to cum whenever, fuck, wanna be your toy, just a dildo for your pretty pussy.”

“Yes!” you arch down, burying his cock deep in your guts, feeling as his fat tip kicks against your cervix making you clench repeatedly down on him.

“So good, Leon” you hold still driving you both crazy as your fluttering walls milk his cock, “want me to use your big fat cock as a dildo? F-fuck, Leon that’s so hot.”

“Want you so bad,” he gropes your breasts, thumbs swiping over the nipples, “I’ll be whatever you want, just tell me who to be.”

“Oh, Leon,” you clench around him as he tugs on your sensitive nipples, “I like you the way you are.”

Your eyes soften as he watches you with a heavy lidded gaze, “Let’s swap, want you to get on top. Set the pace you like.”

“Y’sure?” his hands keep caressing your chest making goosebumps cover your arms.

You pull off of his dick with a bitten off moan as Leon lets out a full on whine. Your legs shake a little and you laugh as you fall next to Leon on the bedspread. He turns to you, face light and happy.

You pull him in for a kiss, tossing your leg over his hip. You trade kisses and giggles, softly making out until the giggles turn into low pants and moans with hips rolling to grind into one another—Leon’s cock dragging across your slick coated pussy.

You finally drag your mouth away, clit pulsing from how fucked out Leon already looks, “You said you wanted to pretend it’s your first time?”

“Uh huh,” his dilated eyes, sweep over your body and back up to your face, still rutting his leaking cock over and over your cunt.

“Those other girls really don’t know what they’re missing out on, Leon,” you murmur against his swollen lips, “you’re so sweet for me.”

He grins at you, cute aggression making you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Is this really what you want?” you whisper, eyes searching his for any doubt, “promise I won’t be mad if you want to stop now.”

“I want to!” he assures you, grabbing your hip to press himself snug against your soaked pussy, dick bumping against your clit making you mewl.

“Promise, I want it,” he groans, letting you grind your sensitive bud up against his dripping cock, “honestly been imagining this for way too long.”

“Yeah?” you gasp as he lifts your leg higher until it’s wrapping around his ribs.

“Yeah, pretty much ever since I moved in,” he laughs derisively, “pathetic huh. There’s no way you thought of me that way.”

“Hey be nice,” you kiss his lips, biting his bottom one as you pull away, “you were too young for me then so you’re not wrong, but.. well you’ve gotten my attention in the last year.”

“No way,” he surged forward to kiss you hard, then move to your jaw down to your neck, tongue tasting your skin, “god I would’ve tried sooner then. Not wasted my time with Ada.”

“Good rule of thumb is to not mention previous conquests while in bed with another woman,” you pinch his hip, “and I wish you would have, too. But,” you squeeze him with the leg you have wrapped around his ribs, “now I have you all to myself.”

You rock your hips against him, gasping when the tip of his cock catches the rim of your hole.

“All yours,” he mumbles into your neck, “m all yours, your good boy.”

He ruts his cock upwards and breaches your needy pussy, sliding deeper and deeper into you until he finally bottoms out with a pained groan.

“S’good every time,” he bites your neck gently, making you hiss and clench around him.

He whines as he rocks his hips back and forth, cock slipping in and out of your wet clenching heat.

“Can we stay like this?” he wraps his arms completely around your body, tugging you until there’s no space to go anywhere, your head tucked into his neck.

You hum in agreement, “Sure, as long as you feel good.”

“It’s perfect,” he moans, bucking into your cunt harder a few times before going back to his softer thrusting.

“Good boy,” you coo in his ear, “my baby brother is so good for me, huh?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, grabbing your ass with both hands to hold you against his hips as he grinds deep into your spasming pussy.

“You serious about being my personal cock toy?” you nip his earlobe, “want me to tie you to my bed with pretty ropes and let me use you all night?”

“Please,” he chokes out, hips rabbiting into your squelching cunt, “I’ve fantasized about that so much. Just want you to boss me around, take what you want.”

You moan, biting the shell of his ear, “Then starting tonight I want you naked in my bed. You don’t get to touch until I say so. I’m gonna ride your face and if you’re good, I might let you jerk off.”

His back arches, a low groan from his chest slipping past his lips, “Anything, anything, please.”

You giggle, pussy walls fluttering and milking his dick, “Oh baby brother we’re gonna have so much fun.”

He whines a high airy note, sounding so pitiful, “M gonna cum soon, so close.”

You roll back, pulling him with you until you’re pinned under his bulky weight, “How do you want to finish?”

His eyes nervously look down your body to where he’s fucking you open, fat cock splitting you in two with each hard thrust.

Mouth panting, he looks back into your eyes, “C-can I put you in a mating press?”

Slick drips past his cock as you let out a mewling whine.

You’re nodding before you even answer, “Yes, that’s so hot, Leon. You want to breed your sister’s pussy that bad?”

He moans, “Y-yeah, want to pin you down and fuck my cum into you.”

“Mmm,” you smile up at him, “I’ll let you do that this time since it’s your first.”

He eagerly slips his cock out of your soaking wet pussy and grabs your thighs, pushing your legs up to you shoulders. You loop your arms around your calves to hold yourself open for him. Leon shuffles until he’s in a crouch, dick angled down tip pressing into your hole as your pussy tries to suck him in deeper.

“Fuck,” Leon whispers, eyes watching as he lowers himself into your greedy cunt, walls pulsing around his thick cock making him lose his composure and bottom out quickly.

Body shivering, you moan feeling too full. There’s no way you’ll ever recover from having Leon buried in your guts; you weren’t kidding when you told him he’s going to ruin your pussy— he already has.

“Move, please, Leon,” you finally gasp out, his cock feeling like it’s lodged in your throat, “s’too much.”

“Sorry,” his dark eyes gaze at you in worry, “I can sto—“

You clench down on him making yourself squeal before finally gritting out, “Don’t you finish that fucking sentence. Want you to fuck me, Leon. I like that it’s too much. I’ll tell you if I want to stop.”

He nods, pulling halfway out and rocking back down making you whine.

“Those stupid girls did a number on you,” you grab onto his shoulders, keeping your legs tilted up for him to fuck into you, “but I can fix that.”

“Uh huh,” Leon’s hazy unfocused eyes are trained on where your pussy is spread open, your hole obscenely stretched around his dick.

You smile at him, feeling warmth buzz through your body followed by white hot arousal as Leon rubs against your g-spot just right.

“There, there, oh fuck,” you pant, nails digging into his muscled shoulders, feeling as his tendons flex to hold himself up while pistoning into your sloppy sounding pussy, “fuck, fuck, oh f—Leon!”

He adjusts his arms, placing one above your shoulder to balance himself so he can slip the other one down to gently rub and tease your clit.

“Good boy, Leon, you’re soo good,” you grind your head back into the bed, feeling too much all at once making your thighs jump and toes curl.

Leon’s so pussydrunk he can’t even form words so he just whines and grunts as he fucks into you harder and harder, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

“Cum, g’nna cum, too good, fuck, gonna fill you up,” he babbles, brow furrowed as his hips chase his pleasure to completion, “can’t stop, sorry sis, can’t—g’nna cum in you,” he whines long and loud, “fuck ‘m about to cum in my big sister, fuck, gonna breed her pussy perfect fucking puss—“

He drops his weight down onto you making you scream as the fat head of his dick kisses your womb, pleasure-pain zinging from your cunt all through your body making your back bow off the bed. Your eyes are wide and unseeing, staring up at the ceiling as Leon stuffs you full of his cum. His cock kicks inside you as your pussy is completely filled with his hot sticky release. You dimly realize you’re cumming and have been since Leon fucked down into your cervix.

“You’re milking me so good,” he slurs, pushing his face into your neck, “can’t stop cumming.”

You whine, pussy walls pulsing around his fat cock as you feel thick spurts of jizz paint your insides white. Your hands move up from his shoulders to slip through his sweaty hair, petting him as you both try to catch your breath. Tugging his strands, he lifts his head and you surge up to kiss him, messy and wet. He sighs into the kiss, eagerly licking into your mouth letting spit drip down his chin making it a wet slide of lips and tongue.

He bucks forward making you moan into his mouth.

“God, wanna go again,” he pulls away, lips shiny and swollen eyes bright, “wanna fill you up again, please?”

“What?” your brows pinch in confusion, “what do you—ohh,” you moan as Leon fucks into your spent cunt, cock hard and throbbing again.

“Got me so bricked up, can’t help it,” he pants against your neck, hips picking up speed as he settles his weight down on you, wrapping your legs around his waist, “it’s a fucking wet dream I get to do this with you.”

“Leon,” you moan, tugging his hair but he stays lodged in your sensitive pussy, fucking you deep and fast, “you’re being so bad.”

“Noo,” he whines, not stopping as he fucks into you over and over and over, “just can’t help it, you feel too good, my hips won’t stop.”

“Bad boy,” you gasp as the tip of his dick knocks against your womb, making your eyes roll back in your head and toes curl, “gonna have to punish you.”

“Yes, yes, please, punish me,” he grunts into your neck, mouth open and sloppily licking at your skin, “just don’t make me stop, can’t help it.”

You can only pant and moan as Leon rails you into his bed again and again; your orgasm is slow and heavy making you cry out when it hits you, hips arching and spine curving to get Leon as deep in your cunt as possible.

“G’nna cum again, gonna breed you so good,” Leon sucks a bruise on your neck, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He kisses you sloppily as he cums inside your aching pussy, walls milking him until he’s spent. He finally pulls back, cock pulling out with a wet suctioning noise making you both moan. Leon watches in awe as his cum oozes from your fucked out hole, pussy lips fat and swollen.

You buck up into the wet heat of his mouth as he buries his face in your abused cunt.

“Leon!”

He hums in reply, grinding his face into your pussy and moaning as he eats the cum and slick from your oversensitive hole. You push him off of you with your feet, his face coated and messy.

“On your back,” you harden your tone, “now, Leon.”

He looks at you abashedly but does as you say. You quickly throw your leg over him and hover your cunt over his face.

“Since you need a lesson in listening,” you rock your clit down against his nose making him groan, “I’m gonna let you clean up the mess you made, baby brother. Then I’m gonna cum all over your pretty face. You don’t get to touch me anywhere else and you don’t get to touch yourself. Understood?”

He’s nodding before you even finish talking, “Yes, yes, ‘m sorry, I’ll be good, I swear.”

Your smile has bite as you reply, “You’ll be good if you want to keep tasting this pussy.”

He moans and you sit completely down on his face making his eyes roll back. His hot tongue greedily licks into your sore pussy.

“Clean it up, baby brother,” you coo down at him, “got my pussy all dirty.”

You feel as he groans low in his throat, rubbing his face deeper into your cunt, tongue fucking up into you. You grind down against his mouth, moaning as your clit rubs and bumps his nose.

“So needy, little brother,” you pet his hair, “gonna have to work for it though, pussy is a privilege.”

You’re jostled as he ruts his hips into the air. Giggling, you rock your hips further onto his tongue.

“Getting close,” you sigh, watching his eyes flutter, pupils completely swallowing the blue, “gonna make me cream your pretty face, baby brother.”

He growls up into your cunt making you mewl, bouncing down on him a little harder. He presses his tongue up just right as his nose catches and bumps your clit making you see stars as your orgasm washes over your body.

“Cumming, cumming, oh fuck,” you whine, riding his mouth as slick gushes from your cunt to fill Leon’s eager mouth.

You let him lap and suck at your pussy until overstimulation makes you raise up on shaky knees.

“Good boy,” you rub your hand down his face, fingers dancing over his red, swollen lips, “did so good for me, Leon.”

He nuzzles into your hand, eyes completely hazed over, “Mmm good. ‘M sorry.”

“I know you are,” you laugh softly, easing yourself up to lay down next to him, “you’re still getting punished though.”

He shivers, love sick eyes watching you, “‘kay.”

You look down your body and then at Leon, “We’re a mess.”

He dazedly looks at your creamy cum slicked thighs and groans, eyes slipping shut, “You’re gonna make me hard again.”

You giggle and push against his bicep, “Then let’s go take a shower. And only a shower.”

He smiles at you, all bubblegum sweet, “Sounds good.”

#subby stepbro!leon s kennedy #subby stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #subby stepbro!leon s kennedy x older fem!reader #stepbro leon s kennedy/you #stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #stepbro!leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #slightly older fem!reader

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luvfy0dor · 4 months

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“And I Need You Like a Heartbeat ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Nikolai Gogol, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Warnings: probably ooc, loosely proofread

Description: Valentine's drabbles with my fav BSD boys ♡⁠˖

A/n; HAPPY (technically early) VALENTINES DAYYYYY!!!! When I talk about chocolate I'm talking about Elmer's chocolate because it's literally so good, dare I say it rivals terrys oranges and I'm a ride or die for those. Also the pink theme is staying for a while bc i really love it.

⑅Nikolai Gogol⑅

→ Nikolai always made an attempt to truly 'woo' you on Valentine's day, he couldn't help himself! He had so much love to share with you, and how lucky he feels that there's an entire holiday just for going all out. He makes sure it's extra special, even though every other day of the year he showers you with his love for you.

Nikolai thought about all of your favorite things while he stood in a store picking out a card and gift for you. He wanted a silly but meaningful one, and that proved really difficult to find, so he decided to come back to it after grabbing you some chocolates. He wanted to get you the biggest box of chocolates possible, and if not that every single small box he could get his hands on. It either had to be comically large or a comically large amount. He grinned immediately when he saw the 72 piece heart shaped box of chocolates. He grabbed three of them excitedly, hoping you'd be ecstatic to receive 216 chocolates. He also wanted to get you flowers, so he made his way to the floral area of the store, picking out a beautiful bouquet of pink and red roses with some babies breath in between the flowers. He walked to self checkout and paid for his gifts for you, having decided to hand-make you a card out of card stock when he got home- that way he could make it as silly and genuine as he wanted.

Nikolai walked out of the store, his arms full until he opens his portal to set everything inside the car before he gets there. It allows him to reach into his pocket and unlock the car, quickly getting in and starting it while rubbing his arms to fend off the cold. He shivers before stretching out his arms and backing out of his parking spot, leaving the lot and heading home. He calmly hummed along to the radio until he reached your house, hopping out of the car and using his portal to gently set everything inside. Once he got inside, he immediately found the pens and papers, starting to write out his card to you. He drew intricate flowers on the white paper, coloring the organic shapes in with pink colored pencil. He wrote your name on it in scripty handwriting and used some red lip gloss to leave a kiss mark. He giggled with excitement and set up all of your gifts in a cutsey array before watching out the window for your car to pull into the driveway. When it finally did, he jumped up, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling from leaping so high. He walked to the door, unlocking it, opening it, and embracing you before you could even stick your key in the lock.

"Kolya, oh my gosh-!" You said, caught a little off guard by it, but you hugged him back. He kissed your cheek and pulled you inside, spinning you around and placing a proper kiss on your lips. "Happy Valentine's Day, darlin'!" He grinned as he spoke, his thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. "Thanks babe, you snatched me inside so quickly I couldn't even grab your gift that I put down-" you're cut off by Nikolais enthusiastic voice. "Oh, speaking of which! Sorry for cuttin' you off, but I've got a gift for you too!" He grabs your hand and leads you to the dining room where he had your array of things. He grabbed the flowers and held them out to you. You were a little stunned, but gratefully accepted them into your arms. "Kolya, those are so beautiful! Thank you, babe!" You hugged him tightly, noticing all the large heart shaped boxes of chocolate.

"And I also got you these and this card." He says, handing you the card and gesturing to the big boxes of chocolate. You immediately start to laugh. "Is something wrong?" He asks, a small amount of worry laced into his tone. You shook your head and walked to the door, opening it and grabbing the same box of chocolates off of the stairs. "I got the same ones for you!" You hand them to him. Nikolais laughter joins your own, but yours quiets down while you read the heartfelt card. Nikolai knew all the words to use to make your heart swoon. You set it down gently on the table and pulled Nikolai in for a kiss, his hands finding their way to your waist. "Mmn, thank you, Kolya. So much." You say, giving his pretty, pink lips one more peck and leaning your head in the crook of his neck. "Any time, sweetheart." He hums in satisfaction before a thought dawns on him. "Do you wanna watch movies and eat some of this chocolate for dinner instead of cooking?" You nod exasperatedly. "That sounds perfect right now." You extracted yourself from the hug and walked towards the couch, your boyfriend in tow with one of the boxes of chocolate. He put on a cheesy rom-com, the both of you laughing at the cheap jokes while snacking on the chocolates together- what a perfect Valentine's Day evening. ♡⁠˖

⑅Dazai Osamu⑅

→ Dazai gets really romantical, going as far as to cook a full meal for you. He puts his heart and soul into the dish, wanting you to come home to a relaxing and loving evening with the love of your life. He plates the food he spent oh so long on and lights the candles while waiting for you. He fixed his hair in one of the mirrors and hung up his apron that you gifted him in attempt to spark his culinary creativity more, and it surely did. He decided to really experiment tonight, after all, love was about taking chances, no?

His posture stiffened when he heard your keys in the apartment door right before you let yourself in. He walked out to greet you, noticing your tired demeanor. It all seemed to subside when you set eyes on him, though. "Hey, 'Samu. Happy Valentine's day." You said, your voice engaging rather than monotonous. You loosely draped your arms around his was and breathes in his scent. "Hey, babe." He greeted you, planting a kiss on the top of your head. "I made dinner for us. Filet mignon." He proudly says, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You raise an eyebrow but decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You didn't think Dazai was the worst cook because he definetly did have his moments, he was just a little... unpredictable, per say. You walked into the dining room with him and can immediately smell strong amounts of cinnamon. You raised an eyebrow, but chalked it up to the candle on the table. When you sat down and observed the food, though, you realized that the smell was not in fact the candle and Dazai had coated the steak in cinnamon.

You stared at it for a moment. "Oh wow, Osamu, that's really thoughtful of you. I appreciate the dinner." He smiled at your thanks, grabbing his fork and cutting a piece of it. "I know it looks a little interesting, but you gotta take risks and try new things in life, babe." He says matter of factly, bringing the cinnamon coated meat to his mouth and eating it. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you cut a piece off and brought it to your mouth. "'Samu, I'm sorry, I can't eat cinnamon on this." You say, reverting your attention back to him. You can't help but feel amused when you see his scrunched up nose and grimace. "Yeah, you know, I can't either. Oh, I'm sorry I ruined our romantic Valentine's Day dinner." He apologizes. "I got you some chocolates that I could feed you instead?" He proposes with a grin. His bony fingers hold up the heart shaped box of sweets while you nod in agreement. "That sounds great, actually, but you should probably brush your teeth first, that must taste disgusting."

It wasn't long before you were sitting on Dazais lap, your hands on his shoulder while he holds up a chocolate to your mouth, giggling with you while you talk with eachother about their memories and dates in the spirit of Valentine's Day. His other hand massaged your thigh while he listened to you talk, your voice like music to his ears. "That was a fun date, wasn't it?" He laughs, patting your thigh while you swallow a piece of chocolate. "Is it good?" He asks you, a small grin on his face. "Mhm, real good. Wanna try one?" You offer. Your arm extends over to the box of chocolates and you hold one up for your boyfriend to eat. He shakes his head and gently pushes your hand away, cupping your cheek with his own. "Oh no, babe, those are for you. If I really want to, I can taste one without eating one." He says, leaning in and kissing you. His lips were chapped but pleasantly familiar, and his tongue slipped into your mouth the first chance he got.

The both of you mutually pulled away for air after a hot second, Dazais cheeks red with blush and his hands on your hips. A small grin remained on his face and with a squeeze of your side, he opened his mouth to speak. "See? They taste great. I should buy some for myself. Or maybe I could just keep doing that- save some money, y'know?" He teases. You roll your eyes and peck his lips one more time, running your hands through his hair. "Save some money for us by not dumping a shit ton of cinnamon on filet mignon and wasting it." You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, your hand over his chest to feel his heartbeat.

⑅Fyodor Dostoevsky⑅

→ Fyodor decides that the perfect way to spend Valentine's Day with his beloved partner was by taking a bath with you. He filled the bath tub with warm water, watching the mirror fog up as the water rose. He even added some bubbles because he knew it would be to your liking, as well as some essential oils. His sleeves were rolled up from checking the waters temperature when he walked out to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine for both himself and you. He carried them to the bathroom with confidence where he found you digging through the drawers of the sink. "What are you looking for, Moya Lyubov?" He handed a cup to you and you sipped on it, letting out a satisfied hum at the familiar taste. "Mn-, nothing, just a face mask. Wanna do one with me when I find the stuff I need?" You ask, continuing your search him the next drawer down. "I don't see why not, just hurry up before out bath gets cold." He smiled and leaned down to kiss your cheek. He only removed his shirt before you stood back upright, facemask and applicator in hand. "Found it! Come here, Fedya, I wanna do you first."

You twist the cap off of the container and dip the applicator in, getting product on the silicone end. He complied with your words and stepped towards you, leaning you against the sink counter top with his hand on the small of your back. You gently applied the face mask to your lovers skin, watching his eyebrows furrow at the chill of the product with amusement. "Cold?" You lightly teased. His nose scrunched up and he hummed in response. "Mhm." He seemed like he was about to knock out standing there, very tired looking. You quickly finished the application and patted his shoulder. "Don't fall asleep yet, we haven't even got in the tub." You say. He laughs and takes the jar and applicator from your hands. "I was not sleeping." His grin was wide and he put the gel on your face, too. "Well you looked tired."

He finishes your mask and now both of your faces has a green tint to them with a tingly feeling on your skin. You both strip down and get into the tub, the warm water engulfing your bodies as you sit facing Fyodor, holding his hand under the water while the other hand held your glass. The both of you sipped on your drinks and talked about your dinner plans for the night. You decided to stay in and order cake out because brothers of you really wanted to cook. You spent thirty minutes in the tub together, switching from your position of facing each other to you sitting in between Fyodors legs with your back to his chest while you played with his hair. He enjoyed your touch, your fingertips gliding across his scalp felt better than anything else in the world at the moment. His hand went up and down your shoulder and arm lovingly, occasionally pressing kisses to the top of your head or grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips. He would murmur soft, accented 'i love you's and praises during soft moments like these.

Soon enough, the two of you stood up from the bath and stepped out of the tub, drying off and getting dressed again. Fyodor wore pajama pants and a sweatshirt while you wore some sweatpants and a tank top. You immediately ordered your food and laid down in bed with Fyodor while you waited. You were both watching some random rom-com that sounded only remotely interesting, but your boyfriend must have found it less than enthralling because within a few minutes, you could hear him snoring right behind you with his arm still draped over your waist. You giggled and rolled over to face him, sighing quietly. "I guess I'm gonna have to get up and get the food, huh?" You murmured to yourself, brushing his bangs out of his face while he snoozed. A smile formed on your face because of how cute Fyodor looked, unable to resist yourself from kissing his head a couple times. "I love you, Fedya. Happy Valentine's Day." You whispered.

A/n; Hiiii , I know I like, never post two days in a row, but it's Valentine's day so there's an exception.

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cardinalcheerio · 23 days

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I believe that while dick is a horrendous driver; so are the rest of the Batkids

I mean especially the ones who were robin/Batgirl wayyy before they could drive.

Examples:

Dicks driving and we all know he's trash. I mean. I haven't read many of the comics. But I can't imagine someone who grew up riding trains in the circus, then being chauffeured (thats hard to spell) around until hes old enough to move to a different city (I'm not from a city but most people walk right?) Then driving a police car which a guarantee nobody cares how he's driving in it. Ain't no way bro knows road rules/courtesy.

Jason was too poor for cars, then I suppose he knew how they work. But knowing how a car works and knowing how the road works especially in gotham are two very different things. He drives a motorcycle (badass) which has some different rules, and honestly there is no way he knows how to drive timeline wise. He died at 16, so no licence/learning (doubt he learned at 15 in gotham.) Came back as an adult after being in nanda par bat then traveled via motorcycle or roof. There is no time he would've learnt to drive a car.

Tim, honestly. I just think Tim would stare into the road and either cause 6 crashes or not even remember driving. He's very detail oriented, but also crazy busy so I'd see him speeding, thinking he could drift out of the way of a stopped car and realize, "oh shit. Not the batmobile this doesn't stop as well!". Also honestly, who would've taught Tim to drive? YouTube?

Steph, shed hit every curb in history. I have no reason to believe this, because steph is criminally underrepresented and i can't find any in depth stuff bout her. But i just think she'd be blasting music and some idiot would cut her off, she'd get pissed (as any gothamite would), cut him off and get hit. Bruce would be buying her a new car cause whats the point of having a billionaire be your pseudo father if he ain't gonna pay for shit?

Cass, i think she could drive if needed, but just a casual drive to get coffee or something? Road laws in America are confusing as shir cause rhey change everywhere you go. And it's gotham so nobody is gonna follow any, so pretty much anyone but Alfred is fucked. I think she'd be a good high speed driver tho

Damian, bros 12 (in my mind atleast), and has been chauffeured around his whole life. Ain't no way.

Duke, honestly. May be the only hope. Just cause he had a stable family for a bit that prob talked to him a bit about driving. Still wouldn't trust him driving me, though. Plus, Gotham is a city and most people prob walk cause of the traffic.

Could you imagine comming home from somewhere and turning on the radio to see why you're stuck, "we have reports that every road in gotham is shit again because of some second rate villian and batman. Those motherfuckers are the reason we have such high taxes. Just sell your car and move. Probably quicker to leave for metropolis than wait in this traffic.:

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my-own-walker · 1 year

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Hiya!!!! I was wondering if you do peter maximoff smut? 😅😅😅 If you do, I have a request-but if you don't maybe you could make it like Tate or Kyle? <3

I was wondering if you could do something like Peter (if you can) like using his vibrations and going down on the reader(fem!) while making her read her smutty diary entries about him after he read what was in it? :) THANK YOU BESTIE MWAHHH

I Warned You

note: forgive me if this sucks. my emotions have been all over the past few days and i burned the FUCK out of my hand last night.

warnings: sm*t, oral f receiving, peter being a slut, etc

+++

It was a rather oppressive day, heat-wise. One of those sticky hot, thighs chafing, greasy bangs days. The sun shined down in a hazy way on the neighborhood I lived in. As I sat there in my denim shorts and big t-shirt, I reminisced on the days of summer as a child. How I'd spend them with my best friend, Peter.

He was the first person I met when I moved here. I was two, to be fair, so I don't remember much of it all. He's always been a permanent fixture in my life. Someone who was just...always there.

He lived next door. Just like a cliche movie. We would ride bikes and draw on the ground with sidewalk chalk together. He was my second-grade boyfriend. He decided to ‘ask me out’ on the last day of school. He learned in school how to say 'I love you,' in sign language just before he asked to hold my hand on the playground on that day in June. He signed it any chance he could. When his mom drove us home in her minivan that day, he held up the sign. Our little secret.

That summer was pure childhood bliss. Innocence. We really didn't 'break up,' per se. When we entered the third grade that September it was just mutual that we had crushes on other kids. We still stayed friends. I'd hang out at his house after school every day until my parents got home. When the weather was warm, I'd sit outside on my porch waiting for him after dinner. Then, like clockwork, we'd find something to do.

As we got older our activities changed. He taught me how to skateboard. I taught him how to trespass on the baseball fields that were tucked down a back street in our neighborhood. We'd swing on this old tire swing over the stream that ran through our backyards.

In our sophomore year of high school, he bought an old car with dreams to fix it up. A 1965 Ford Mustang. It was rusty, beat up, and had no engine. The windshield was shattered and the inside wasn't upholstered. The only working part of it was its radio. When I walked out of my front door on the day he brought it home, he slapped it on its hood, proudly declaring, 'I'm gonna take you to prom in this thing, baby!' We sat in the old thing all afternoon listening to the radio.

I had known about his abilities the whole time. I never got into foot races with him as a kid for that reason. He would beat me every time. Peter had it under control, for the most part, but only when he wanted to. He started getting brazen with it as a teenager. He'd take me on these wild adventures where he'd steal things. The first time it was just some candy from a convenience store. By the time he got that damned car, he was stealing entire carburetors. These trips took all of 2 minutes. Just the two of us speeding off to create havoc.

Somewhere along the way I fell in love with him. Or maybe it wasn't even that. I can't remember a time when I didn't love him. It changed, though. I started to feel things toward him I'd never felt before. When he'd hold my head to prevent me from getting whiplash as we were making our hasty escapes from his escapades, I'd find chills would run up my spine.

Our beautiful little romance blossomed once he finally got his Mustang up and running. Not that he needed it, really. He was leagues faster than any car. He just wanted to be able to transport more things. And his new girlfriend. We started dating in junior year. He had just gotten his license and took me on a ride one night. We parked down a backstreet in our town and our lips finally met. At long last, his fast fingers were allowed to explore my body in a way I had never allowed him to before. It was wonderful, awkward, and hungry. Everything a teenage love affair should be.

He ended up taking me to the prom in that car, just as he'd promised. He looked so smart in his little tux. We spent that entire summer simply enraptured with each other. Our hangouts transformed from outdoor antics to being tangled in my bed, fan on max speed, windows open to hear the mourning doves sing outside. I can still smell the fresh summer air and the smell of him combining to make something all-encompassing and intoxicating.

It was the next summer on this very hot day. Peter and I had been dating for a year. He was away, hanging out with his friends or something. I was home alone. I sat there on my porch, diary resting lazily on my lap, staring off at the hanging 'FOR SALE,' sign on my yard in front of me . I switched between twirling my pen in my hands and chewing the end of it, deep in thought.

It was always the deal in my house. As soon as I graduated, as the youngest kid in my family, we'd move away again. My parents weren't happy with the town. They knew I had made my life there, but a deal was a deal. I couldn't imagine a life without Peter.

When the sign went up on my front lawn, I began a diary. I was never a writer. I was horrible at keeping up with writing entries in a tiny book. But knowing my life was about to change, I began scratching down every small detail about my life. My time in this house. My childhood. My life with Peter. It was a passion project. I wanted to document everything so I'd never forget.

Peter interrupted my deep inner turmoil. Well, not exactly him. His loud-ass car pulled up, parking in the driveway next door. He stepped out of the car singing, keys jingling in his hands. Like clockwork, his head turned to see if I was on my porch. Our routine since we were kids. In a flash, he was sitting next to me.

'Hey pretty,' he breathed, kissing me gently on my cheek.

'Hey Peter,' I smiled, looking up at him. Whenever he was near me I couldn't help but get wrapped up in him. Swept away in his deep brown eyes and sea of silver hair. There was a palpable feeling between the two of us. Dancing around the topic of me moving away, even though the signs were all around us, literally. It was a tension that colored every moment of our time together, yet we tried in earnest to ignore it.

'Whatcha got there?' he asked, half-taunting, as he usually did.

'Oh, haha,' I blushed, clapping the book shut and tucking the pen inside. 'It's nothing, just a planner.'

'A planner? Y/L/N, when have you ever been the type to schedule things?' he scoffed. 'Gimme that.' He lunged for the diary. I curled my body up tight into a ball, the book nestled safely between my lap and chest. My arms secured it even further.

'Peter! Stop it! I gotta get my shit together,' I whined. 'Like, plan out packing!'

'Packing for what?' he asked sarcastically, still trying in vain to pry the diary from my grasp. In his desperation, he attempted the only trick he had left to get me to let go. He started tickling my sides. It was a surefire way to piss me off, but also to get me to let go. The diary clattered to the ground as I stood up quickly to get away from his hands tickling me at light speed. He paused for a moment to grab the diary off the ground.

'Hey, thanks!' he exclaimed, taking off in a flash inside my house, leaving only the wind behind to prove he was there.

I clamored inside behind him, calling after him as I stumbled up the stairs. He was already laying on my bed, on his side, reading my diary entries when I got to my room.

‘DON’T read those!’ I panted in vain. ‘They’re so bad!’

‘Oh, these little stories?’ he smirked, looking up only with his eyes. ‘I think they’re pretty good.’

My cheeks burned hot. I stepped into the room and slammed the door shut. He held the book up closer to his face and squinted. ‘Peter, please, I’m warning you,’ I pleaded.

‘His tongue slid into me. All of my insides felt warm and tingly…’ he read out.

‘OH MY GOD NO!’ I rushed over to him, trying to pry my diary out of his hands. I was on the bed on my knees doing what I could to get my embarrassing writing back. He and his super speed, though, had other plans. I gave up after minutes of trying, tired of grabbing at a person that wasn’t even there by the time my hands reached him. He stopped his motion and was right back where he started on my bed.

‘I think I got what I needed,’ he smirked. ‘Let me review the highlights with you…’

He moved quickly, without using his super speed, to lay me down my my back. I didn’t object. He was always gentle with me, careful not to use his speed unless I asked him to. Peter hated anything that took a long time, but with me he always had patience. Well, unless it was taking my clothes off.

Peter worked quickly to get every inch of fabric off my body. His smooth hands rubbed all over my skin as he kissed me passionately. He stopped to pick up the diary that had been discarded to the side on my bed.

‘Let’s see…’ he muttered, pinning my shoulder down with one hand, his legs straddling my lap. ‘He spread my legs slowly…okay I can do that.’

The diary was once again dropped so he could part my thighs. His hot breath hovered over my weeping cunt.

‘Right, right, then the tongue part,’ he reminded himself. He kissed all along the insides of my thighs, eventually making contact with my middle. My toes curled and my breath hitched. I was ready for what he was about to do. He slipped his tongue into me and my eyes rolled back. He flicked his tongue over my clit, making me yelp out.

He separated himself from me to grab my diary again.

‘You’re gonna have to read this next part, Y/N, I’m a little preoccupied here,’ he instructed. He passed the book into my shaking hands. I didn’t even have the energy to protest. I just wanted to feel his warmth within me again. His mouth reconnected with my pussy.

‘H-his abilities came in handy when giving me head,’ I panted. ‘He can do this thing- thi- this thing where he vibrates.’ I could only choke out so much in my pleasure.

I felt him take a few deep breaths before beginning to vibrate at sonic speed. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The first time he did it, I thought I would just about die. He pulled away for a moment.

‘Keep reading,’ he breathed. I whimpered, shaking hands once again opening the diary. He reconnected with my middle again and I let out a loud moan.

‘He kn-knows how to make m-me purr like a kitten. There’s n-nothing like it,’ I sputtered out.

I didn’t have much left in me. He, acting as my own personal vibrator, brought me to my limit. I came with a loud yelp, laughing immediately after. Peter stopped vibrating and laid on top of me, his face meeting mine.

‘You are SUCH a dick, Maximoff,’ I giggled.

‘I thought it was sexy, how you write about me and all,’ Peter shrugged. He peppered kisses all over my face and neck as we both caught our breath. For a fleeting moment, nothing in the world mattered. All we cared about was each other. For a moment, I wasn’t moving away. It was us and us only. ‘You’re a million miles away, beautiful. What’s wrong?’

Snapping out of my trance, I planted a kiss on his lips. ‘Nothing at all, Peter. Just really ready for round two,’ I smirked.

+++

I really enjoyed this one. Thank you so much for this request! I promise I’ll write more this week. It’s been cray cray on my end.

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x y/n #evan peters x female reader #evan peters fic #evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters oneshot #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff smut

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luvrboydave · 10 months

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ur turning into one of my fav blogs omg omg… we need more dave content on here. rn i’m thinking abt slow and sensual sex w 1990s dave after the two of you have been crushing on each other for a while… maybe you grew up together n you’ve always had his back. kinda like the “it’s always been you” trope you feel me?

omg no way, your blog is literally the reason i made mine LMAO and i totally agree…there’s just not enough dave content on here!! no but listen…there’s something so sweet about 90s dave…he’s just got this happy, comforting aura to him, y’know what i mean? i love him sm

doing this in bullet point format because my brain is very messy and can’t structure a story rn...so this is just word vomit about the prompt

- dave has been infatuated with you since the two of you met in high school. you always supported him, no matter what he was going through. when he was kicked out of metallica, you were his shoulder to cry on, and when he formed megadeth, you were there to congratulate him

- bro fell for you SO HARD!!! he constantly buys you little gifts and tries to play it off as a friendly gesture…sayin things along the lines of “i saw this at the store earlier and i thought you’d like it” as he hands it to you. unfortunately, he’s oblivious to the fact that you also fell for him.

- one night in ‘92, dave drives you out to your guys’ fav hangout spot, and it’s definitely *not* a date. you both sit in his car, silently listening to some random led zeppelin song playing on the radio. out of the corner of your eye, you watch as dave takes a deep breath and turns towards you. “can i tell you something?” he asks, nervously running his fingers through his hair. You smile at him, “of course, what’s up?” “i’m in love with you,” he breathes out. your eyes go wide; you’re completely shocked by his confession. a short laugh escapes your lips, and you grab his hand, “well, i’m glad im not the only one that’s utterly in love with their best friend…”

- soon enough, dave has your back pressed into the cool leather of his backseat. he’s kissing you slowly and softly, ensuring you know how much he loves you. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. your shirt rides up slightly as you push your hips upwards, and dave’s hands are immediately on the newly exposed skin, hands coming to rub your waist. dave kisses down your neck, pausing to whisper, “love you so much…it’s always been you, sweetheart.”

- once he’s got you fully undressed, dave makes his way down to your cunt. he presses his cheek up against your thigh and looks up at you, “wanna eat you out so bad, baby…” you weave your fingers into his hair and push his face towards your pussy, and he gladly complies.

- you moan as he slides his tongue over your drenched slit, tightening your grip on his hair when he takes your clit into his mouth. dave uses his thumbs to spread your fold apart, licking a flat stripe over your cunt before he turns his attention to your clit again.

- he sinks his middle and ring fingers into your cunt, fucking you with them nice n slow as his mouth is still attached to your clit. His other hand is wrapped around your thigh, keeping one leg in place over his shoulder. “dave- gonna cum,” you gasp breathlessly, rolling your hips up into his mouth. dave coaxes the orgasm out of you slowly, fingers curling up into you and hitting just the right spot. your eyes flutter shut as you cum, hands scrambling for purchase on anything you can find. after dave cleans up your messy cunt, he kisses back up your body, planting a sweet kiss on your lips again.

- you watch as dave unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down just enough for him to slip his cock out. he wraps a hand around the back of your knee, pushing one of your legs up to your chest. his other hand guides his tip to your entrance, teasing it against your cunt before slowly pushing in. once he bottoms out, he begins to fuck into you slowly. his pace is steady, but his thrusts are deep; the head of his cock brushes against your cervix with every thrust. dave leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing his weight into you. “so fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. wanted you for so long, y’know…thought about this every day.” he grunts, pace faltering ever so slightly.

- dave brings snakes down to your cunt, thumb beginning to rub at your clit, adding to your already overwhelming pleasure. you can feel your orgasm swelling up again, one hand moving up to grip dave’s shoulder and the other pressing onto the foggy window. your pussy flutters around him, and you cry out, signalling to him that you’re cumming. he continues to fuck into you, helping you ride out your intense orgasm again. pulling out of you with a loud groan, dave wraps his hand around his cock and jerks himself off until he cums onto your cunt.

- dave smiles down at you, leaning in to steal another kiss from your lips before looking for something to clean you up with. after he wipes you down, you sit up and watch him tuck himself back into his jeans. He looks over to you, a bright smile on his face, “i meant all that shit i said, y’know…” you nod and return his smile, laughing slightly, “this was kind of a weird way to ask me to be your girlfriend, but the answer is yes.”

#dave mustaine smut #megadeth smut #metallica smut #dave mustaine x reader #asks and replies

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heyidkyay · 3 months

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Fifteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: Honestly loved writing this one! Lots of tension, so many emotions! First scene has a few flashbacks in italics so watch out! Hope you enjoy x

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

A list of things I remember about last night:

George buying a fan a bottle of champagne.. then four more for the table. He’d been six shots in and feeling more than a little generous.

Matty and I out in the smoking area, whispering back and forth, then giggling as we tried to knick a lighter from the back pocket of this big burly bloke trying to chat up the blonde beside us.

Hann leaving early but with smiles for all of us and the promise of seeing Adi and I again soon!

Finn’s text saying that Teddy was fast asleep and all fine- an utter reassurance not just to me, but seemingly Matty too, who’d cooed over the picture I’d received alongside it.

Matty dragging me out onto the dance floor when a certain song had come on, his hands on my waist, mine tangled in his hair, the lights bright, the music loud..

The last round of shots, or one of?

Ross standing on a table??

Adi then slipping out with Ross- note to self, text Adi!!

And then…

Then the cab ride home!

But, I supposed it wasn’t headed home, or at least not mine, because now that I thought about it, dizzying images of awkward fumbles in the dark, searching for a light switch, hastily turned into a terrible attempt at trying to scrounge up some food, only a little less drunk than what we’d been when we’d left the club. But then even those soon spun and fluttered away, moving onto heavy hands and heated looks…

I froze, taking in the unfamiliar feel of the bed sheets beneath me and the weight of an arm thrown around my waist. How suddenly the skin beneath it felt hot at the realisation of its touch. I allowed my wide eyes to wander, holding my breath, the remnants of sleep quickly slipping from me as worry overwhelmed it. I saw the cemented walls, the soft hues, the sunlight which flickered in through the far window.

I didn’t know this place, but at the same time I felt as though I did.

I let my eyes fall close again, only briefly, when I finally allowed myself a moment to breathe, inhaling slowly so as to not stir the man settled behind me.

Fuck.

And that was all that would come to mind because I was panicking now. It felt like I had been dropped into a black hole head first, or some other kind of alternate reality- or maybe even five years in the past! Because this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream.

But my thoughts kept on betraying me.

“Don’t run from me.” He whispered in the dim light of his kitchen as his fingers skittered over the length of my jaw, gently coercing me into meeting his gaze once again.

We’d been making toast, he’d only had a spoonful or so of butter left but had latched onto the idea the second we’d walked through the front door, the cab having not long left us. He’d pulled jams and spreads from high cupboards to goad me into it too, and I could do nothing but stand there and watch on, perfectly content and with a permanent smile etched into my face.

He’d patted the countertop beside him not long after finding a new loaf of white bread in the tin, gesturing me on round to sit on its top whilst he got to work.

“What do you fancy?” He’d asked me, plopping a slice into his sleek toaster, one which looked a decade newer than my own.

“You decide.” I had gambled, happy to just watch him laugh whilst he worked, licking his thumb free of chocolate and swearing under his breath when the butter finally ran dry.

On the plate I’d then been handed, sat four sections, each one a different spread to the other. He’d grinned up at me when he had passed it over and had watched on as I’d chuckled and picked a slice up.

“Blueberry, fine choice.” He’d hummed, his drawl deep and tinged with a faint hint of amusement. I’d shrugged, sheepish for some reason, and licked at the corner of my mouth to swipe the crumbs away from the bite I had just taken.

“Didn’t even know it existed.” I’d told him truthfully, taking another bite before reaching out to have him try.

His movements had been careful at that, as though he’d been surprised by the offer, but then he’d let me feed him and had grinned around the sweet taste.

“Good?” I’d asked him, already moving to withdraw my hand before his fingers caught around my wrist. I'd blinked, confused and slightly startled by the suddenness of the gesture, but his hold hadn’t been harsh or hurtful, merely just that, a hold.

He had nodded at me in answer to my question, but then he’d taken the bitten slice from my grasp to place down somewhere on the counter.

“Matty?” I'd heard myself say.

He’d merely stepped on closer, “You have something.” His voice gruff.

He had lifted his free hand up towards my face, the other still caught on mine, and let the pad of his thumb brush away the tiniest piece of jam my cheek had caught. I’d felt my breath catch at the motion, somewhere in the very back of my throat, and then swallowed thickly at the sight of him placing the same finger into his mouth, sucking it clean.

I’d looked away, feeling the fierce rush of alcohol and embarrassment heat my face.

“Don’t run from me.”

His fingers still touched me now, even as he slept on, completely oblivious to the chaos that was my mind, the world that had continued on around us.

What would they say? What would they think?

Slowly, I forced myself to start moving, unable to continue lying in a bed that wasn’t my own. I hated myself a little for the fact that it was his, something deep inside of me knowing that this would’ve been so much easier had it simply been a stranger.

I lifted his hand from around my waist first, ever so careful not to have him stir, then silently slipped from between the sheets, my legs sliding out first before I willed my torso to follow.

I picked up the first thing I saw from off of the floor, the white shirt he’d been wearing the night before, and pulled it on over my shoulders. My eyes skittered about the rest of the space, taking in everything that made up Matty’s room whilst simultaneously trying to find the dress I’d arrived in the night before.

“I don’t think anyone has ever made me feel like you do.” He murmured into the space between us, my legs pressed against the counter top and dangling either side of his hips, his fingers grasped my chin, mine cuffed somewhere around his wrist.

“It’s fucking maddening.” He continued on in the hushed tone he'd adopted, though no one was around to hear him had he spoken any louder, “I keep pulling away when I feel I get too close, scared you might push me away completely. ‘Cause what would I do then? Where would that leave me?”

I could feel the blood rushing in my ears and the way that my hands would surely shake if they weren’t already clinging to him. “I don’t understand, Matty.”

He smiled at me and I watched the way his eyes trailed their way across my face. I’d always liked his eyes. “I know. And that’s what kills me, ‘cause I don’t reckon you’ll ever think I’m enough.”

Enough.

It threw me.

“You’re enough, what on Earth are you on about? Of course you’re enough.”

He shook his head at me ever so softly, with a sad smile this time around, whilst I dipped my own head to be nearer to his, wanting him to believe me. Willing him to.

“Matty-”

I was ripped away from the memory by the shuffling of sheets and stood in horror, barefoot in the middle of his bedroom, as the bed creaked with a slight movement. I held my breath, hands clutching at the buttons of the gaping shirt.

He sniffed unhappily, hands searching as he turned, but then was lured back into sleep.

I gave a stuttered exhale, heart pounding so hard it should’ve surely hurt, before continuing on with my search. I didn’t get too far though, not with my shaking hands and laboured breaths, the anxiety of it all overwhelming me now.

I could feel the pricking of tears that welled in my eyes, the stinging tingle of my nose as I fought not to cry. Why? The only question worth repeating, over and over and over. Why the fuck had I gone and fucked this all up?

“Mouse?”

My head shot up, startled by the suddenness of his voice and the realisation that I’d cowered into the wooden chair sat on the wall nearest to the window. Matty shifted in the sheets, sleep clouding his mind before I choked on a questionable sob and he was all but tumbling his way on over to me, catching on bed linens and fumbling across the floor.

“I need you to know, okay?” He whispered to me in the quiet of the kitchen, his wary face now cradled in the palms of my hands whilst his soft eyes stared back at me, mirroring an emotion I felt but couldn’t quite recall. “‘Cause, I don’t reckon I could say this whilst sober.”

“Know what, Matty?”

My fingers dug into the skin of my arms.

“Mouse, you hearin’ me?”

His voice sounded so different now, laced with a gruff edge I’d only ever heard during late night phone calls when he’d stayed too late at the studio and wanted company. There was an urgency to his tone now.

“Squeaks, just lemme know what I can do.” Matty rushed out, his face wrinkled with worry whilst his hands faltered, unsure whether or not to touch. “Please.”

Another sob ripped its way through me.

“I’m sorry.” I told him in earnest, crying hard enough now that I had to have been gasping to breathe, “I’m sorry, I, I just- I don’t know what to do now. I’m sorry, Matty. So sorry.”

He didn’t reply, didn’t say a word actually. Just moved to cradle me close, wrapping his arms around my shoulders as though that would hold me together, his body shielding my head from the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Matty murmured, so much like he had the night before but only sadder now. “Nothing at all.”

–

She was embarrassed. That much he knew.

Could feel the way she shied away from him now that she had calmed, still hidden away in his arms. He hated himself for it. He wanted to hate what had gone down last night too, but couldn’t bring himself to. What good would it do him now? Hate, always so stuck on it.

“Mouse.” He called out to her softly, after the quiet had been stretched and pulled far too thin. He swallowed thickly, “Let’s make some tea, yeah?”

He must've surprised her with his response because she glanced up at him almost unconsciously, but as soon as their eyes met hers were quick to dart away again.

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, stare trained on the farthest wall. Matty licked at his bottom lip, still crouching in his position by the chair he had in the corner, moving his hands to now gently rest them by the knobs of her knees.

He’d never been good at shit like this. Comfort.

He always got stuck in this place between panic and unease, forced to commit to empathising with another person and suspending his own agenda. It made him feel like he needed to make things better then and there, if only to save himself the strain of dealing with emotions.

That, and his mind was still so bleary due to the abrupt wake up, his heart still clenched to the point of exertion due to the spear of anxiety she’d propelled right through him.

“We can talk there, alright? Just, don’t leave just yet. Please?”

He felt bad for even asking her to stay but he knew her far too well, could see how desperate she was to run now, to escape her feelings and everything that had brought this moment to an abrupt head.

“Please?” Matty repeated even softer than he had before and was thankful when she finally nodded, a small thing he might not have seen had he blinked, but a nod nonetheless. “Okay.” He breathed out, something in him settling now that he knew she wouldn’t be making a run for the hills, “Okay, I’ll get a start on it then. You can have a look through them drawers over there, yeah? Find something, whatever, I don’t mind.”

He saw the bob of her throat as she swallowed and lingered on the motion until she nodded again.

By the time he’d made it out into the kitchen he was all but kicking himself, cursing as he tried to keep his temper in check. Of all the things he could have fucking done last night, why did he have to go and fuck the one good thing in his life up? She’d never fucking forgive him for this, even if she realised what had actually gone down and not what she’d just conjured up in that pretty little head of hers.

Matty channelled his regret and sorrowful mood into hammering a pair of teabags into two empty mugs, figuring it to be the only way he could vent without banging everything about. He flicked on the kettle and moved to the fridge to pull the milk out, listening to it begin to boil instead of the stuttering of his pulse.

He only realised he’d been glaring a hole into the tiled wall when the thing finally whistled and the soft pad of shuffling feet echoed across the kitchen floor. Matty couldn’t help the way his head turned to find her.

“Hungry?” He asked, rubbing at his eyes, and although his voice was barely above a murmur it still felt too loud. She simply shook her head. Which was just as well really, he didn’t think he could even stomach this brew the way he was strung so tight.

He dipped his chin in retort, ringing the two tea bags out before turning back to face her again. He paused when he found that her eyes were locked on the counter she’d been sat on the night before, Matty’s mind immediately flashed back to the skin of her thighs beneath his hands, the dip of her waist, the gentleness she’d held his face with, both the longing and sadness in her eyes when she told him he was enough.

He had wanted to scoff then, now even, but he’d never do that to her. If she thought he was worth even a fraction of the attention she gave him, then he’d take it. He was selfish in that regard, and couldn’t afford to waste anything she gifted him.

Christ, he sounded like a proper nut. How’d he let himself get so fucking gone on this girl?

Truthfully, he hadn’t even realised the depth of it until right then.

And now he had to be an actual grown-up and sort out the mess he’d made of things before he even got a chance to try to riffle through his messy array of feelings and their slow rising alarm bells. Another time- another day, even.

Matty cleared his throat as gently he took the seat beside her on the trio of barstools he had lined up on one side of his kitchen island, then faltered slightly, “Um, you good here or you wanna like, move to the settee or somethin’?”

She shook her head, hands careful as she moved to cradle the mug he’d just slid on over to her. He noticed how she moved her gaze from the counter down to the milky brew when he sat.

“Right,” He muttered, “alright.”

It was stupid, to feel so fucking incompetent then. In a moment he really should have been able to find the right words. Because Matty, somehow, had run out of things to say. And it was an accomplishment in itself, that he had to note, he wasn’t one to ever really be at a loss for words. But then again, Mouse was the biggest anomaly he’d faced so far.

He cleared his throat again and decided to just sip at his tea, noting that it was nicer than the usual scalding hot coffee he’d gulp down on his way out each morning.

Mouse went to open her mouth again, he saw the movement just out of the corner of his eye, and Matty already knew what she was going to say.

“Don’t,” He rushed out, though not unkindly. “No need for sorries, yeah?”

Her jaw snapped swiftly shut and she huddled in on herself slightly, staring back into the swirl of her brew. Matty immediately felt guilty.

He licked at his lower lip, feeling a cut there beneath his tongue just as a silence settled once more, one that was all the more suffocating.

He figured he’d best just get it over with, because at least then he’d be put out of the itching longing he had to end the quiet.

“I just,” He immediately paused, noting the way she had tilted her chin towards him at the sound of his voice, he coughed lightly then tried again. “Last night,” She tensed, and God, he had to steel himself further at that, “Nothing happened, alright? Well, yeah, I mean, fuck. Shit happened, but like we didn’t have sex or anything, I wouldn’t do that to you, Squeaks. You were drunk. It’d be a shitty move, yeah? So, just, if that’s what you’ve been worrying about, then..”

Matty glanced over at her wearily, internally wincing at the fucking stumble he’d made of things there, he found that her head was better turned towards him now, although her eyes still remained low. He watched her lips part, then quiver as though she was unsure of her response.

He let her have a minute.

“You were drunk, too.”

It didn’t sound like an accusation but felt a little like one. Still, he kept his head. “Not enough to not remember.”

The skin between her brows knitted, Matty could practically see the whirl of her many moving thoughts.

“I was naked.”

It took all his strength not to splutter at that, because he’d been trying his fucking hardest not to linger too much on that fact. Or how the sight of her in his clothes, even now, sent something stirring through his gut.

“Yeah,” Once again clearing his throat, Matty took another stilted breath, “Though to be fair, you’d had a shower then fell asleep like that after I said I’d be quick about mine.”

His eyes flickered outwards, unable to look at her then, thinking back to the sight she’d made all sprawled out on his bed, face softened by sleep and the duvet pulled over most of her waist.

“I didn’t see much,” He felt the need to add, because she was obviously a little torn up about it from the way she was wringing her hands, and knew for a fact that Mouse had a shit fucking perception of herself too. The way she breezily commented on her body and the scars that marred her face gave way to that fact, although most wouldn’t pick up on it, and he had realised quite early on that she didn’t either. Matty supposed he must have his rehab therapist to thank for that little enlightenment.

He chuckled lightly when the image of her rippled to the forefront of his mind, clinging to the duvet with a strength no unconscious person should probably have. “You practically cocooned yourself in the covers anyway, threw a proper fit when I tried to steal some of it back.”

She smiled then, a tiny thing, mind, but a smile nonetheless. And that alone at least eased his mind a little bit.

“Thinking back, I probably should’ve just slept in the guest room but I was almost dead to the world. Sorry.” He was sincere in his apology, it’d been a misstep on his part, he just hadn’t been thinking. Hadn’t expected her to react so badly either.

“No need.” She said then, her voice a little more confident now as she mimicked his earlier words, “I shouldn’t, well, I shouldn’t have just assumed.”

Matty rolled his eyes and finally chanced a glance back over at her, so very pleased to see her looking back. Even then in that moment, after a right scare, fucking sobbing her heart out, and only just having woken up, she looked blinding.

He didn’t know if he had ever described a girl quite like that, or anyone really. But it felt too true to not shine a light to.

He internally chastised himself again- did ageing make you soppy or some shit? The fuck was he on.

“Yes, you should have. I’d’ve done the same, anyone would’ve.” He chuckled instead, loving the way her sheepish smile only curved up on the one side. “Least now we know you’d be fuckin’ mortified if I ever tried anything on.” He tried to joke, but it fell flat.

Squeaks swivelled her seat round to knock her knees against his own, then wrapped her cold feet around his ankle, “I was- I just haven’t, you know..” Matty arched a single brow, still rather pleased with their newfound position, his eyes lingering on the way her borrowed shirt slipped down to expose the majority of her collarbone. “.. slept with anyone in a while, and yeah, I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to go and ruin anything we have with a drunken mistake.”

Matty’s heart faltered. Felt it fucking implode and then shrivel up inside his chest. Mistake.

He fought hard to keep his mask in place, smiling away. He sipped at his brew to keep the sudden sickness that jilted his stomach at bay then patched his bleeding heart back up. “How long’s a while?” He teased, smirking felt easier than a smile anyway.

It was her turn to roll her eyes at him then, laughing softly when she retracted her gaze, though their legs stayed intertwined.

“I don’t really know.”

“Yes, you do.” Matty laughed, having none of it, “Come on, a couple months?” She kept quiet, “A year?”

He frowned when she began to chew on her bottom lip, fighting the urge to reach out and stop her. “Two?”

“Six.” She answered him, probably tired of the guessing game.

“Six.” Matty murmured, reeling at the information. Six years. He’d fucking explode, “Is that even healthy?”

Squeaks was so quick in the way her hand shot out to swat him, “It’s fine, you dickhead! And besides, I just meant properly, you know? Like, there’s been a few quick passings but nothing, nothing like that.”

“Wow.”

“Don’t be a prick about it!” She immediately retorted to his breathy reply, obviously a little embarrassed and annoyed. “I have a toddler! And I’m always so fucking busy! I don’t even have the time to think about it!”

“Sounds like what you need is to get laid, babe.”

He snorted when she wacked him again, purposely ignoring the thoughts of her and him, drunken mistake.

“Leave off!”

“Fine then, I will for now.” Matty laughed, rubbing at his bicep, she continued to glare. “You want breakfast then? Or lunch now, I ‘spose. Can order in.”

Her knee knocked against his once more. Goosebumps trailed the length of his skin.

“Need to be back to pick up Teds from the nursery but yeah, lunch sounds nice.” She smiled, and for a second Matty was frozen in that very moment, content to just watch her smile at him like that forever.

Nice nice nice.

–

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” I said, my tone almost scolding, but I’d been unable to flat out deny Matty of his request to come and help me pick Teddy up from school. I’d spent the rest of the day at his place, been given an actual tour, eaten some good food, and thankfully had been able to avoid any more awkward conversations pertaining to our wake up call that morning.

“What? You said I could!” He sounded almost petulant. “Besides, it’ll be lowkey, I have my hat, a hood. No one will know! Also, I’m not that important. Don’t reckon many four year olds are listening to Sex on the drive home.”

I snorted but my mind still flashed to memories of only hours earlier. My cheeks pinked. “First- lowkey, really? Aren’t we too old to be saying that? And second, that hat is the same fucking hat you haven’t taken off since Christmas!”

“Before Christmas, actually.” Matty said snidely, smirking all the while, even as he ducked to avoid the swat of my hand. “And anyway, I love this hat, so kindly fuck off.”

“Charmin’.”

Matty spent the rest of the walk to Teddy’s nursery singing This Charming Man whilst my mind lingered on his words. Claims of how he loved the small, insignificant gift Teddy and I had handed him.

By the time we made it past the school gates, we’d been nudging shoulders and grazing hands most of the walk, so wrapped up in one another that I didn’t even realise I’d forgotten my phone somewhere until I patted down my pockets in the playground.

“Shit.” I muttered.

Matty, still blissfully unaware of my sudden circumstance and humming softly, kept on surveying the small school. “Yeah, the mural could use a bit of work but I think it’s meant to look shit, you know. Reckon the kids probably did it.”

Furrowing my forehead at his words, I then peered up at him, “No, I forgot my phone.”

Realisation dawned but then he shrugged, as if it were no big deal, “It’s probably still at mine, you use it this morning?”

I shook my head, feeling panicked now, which was stupid because it was just a phone. But, it also housed most of the things I considered important in my life; my work contacts, documents, notes, and To Do’s; Teddy’s doctors and dentist and school’s numbers; all the memories I’d made in the last few months that I had yet to save onto my icloud or hard drive; and pictures of Matty and I, as well as the rest of the guys too, but also our texts and little messages on Twitter and Instagram.

Losing it? I hated the very thought.

“No, I haven't touched it since last night. Could’ve left it at the club, or in the cab, or the-”

Matty’s hands came to cradle my shoulders, making me pause, and I realised he’d moved to stand before me, looking down at my pinched expression with a small smile. “You’re stressing, just take a breath. Alright? We’ll find it, ‘cause I’m sure it's back at mine anyway, but if not, then we can get it blocked and whatnot, try to get a new one before tomorrow.”

I forced myself to suck in a breath, still reeling from the feeling of my heart dropping to my arse. “Yeah, yeah I know, it’s just-”

“One of them things.” He finished with a knowing smile, hands squeezing my shoulders briefly before he wrapped me up in a hug. “Stressin’ won’t help and will only have Teds all wound up when he sees, yeah? We’ll sort it.”

His words ebbed my every worry just for a moment, I took another breath and let my arms find his waist, returning the hug and enjoying the way he settled his chin atop my head.

“Okay.” I whispered into the edge of his coat, smiling when he squeezed me tight and then pulled away, “Sorry.”

Matty rolled his eyes at me, “Shut up.”

I chuckled to myself, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out again and instead glanced about the rest of the playground. Most of the mums were here now and that panic that had subsided only a second ago almost came back in full force when I noticed how intensely they were watching me, or rather, Matty and I.

Carefully, I pivoted behind Matty, keeping my back to the gated fence which enclosed the school, but also forcing Matty to turn confusedly after me, his own back now facing the rest of the watchers.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He snorted with a bemused sort of frown, “Hiding?”

“Maybe.”

That had been the wrong thing to say because Matty nearly turned to glance back around, I reached out to stop him, hand encasing his elbow. “Don’t, alright? There’s a shit ton of mums just watching us. Got eyes like hawks or something.”

Matty merely blinked back at me before laughing, “You’re for real? Come on, they can’t be that bad.”

He went to turn again, only this time I couldn’t stop him. “Matty!” I called in a hissed whisper and he was quick to spin back around, face a little shocked.

“You reckon they’ll close in on us? I dunno if I can outrun them.”

I spluttered out an unexpected laugh, “I hope not. They usually hate me.”

Matty’s frown was quick to make a reappearance, “What, why?”

Shrugging, I glanced over his right shoulder, “You want a list? I’m a young mum, single, my kid doesn’t know his dad, I look like this, I don’t have a normal job or stay at home to take care of him, and sometimes Teds gets picked up by Finn or Adi, I don’t attend their stupid little-”

“Fuckin’ hell, alright I get it.” Matty said, his hand reaching out for my elbow just to slow me on my rant. “What a bunch of cunts.”

I forced a smile, “Yeah, well. Just another part of my life.”

Matty pulled a strange face at that, but before I could begin to decipher it, the classroom doors were opening and I was quick to step forward. Matty lingered behind me, keeping his hood up.

A few kids were called when Miss Sparks spotted certain parents and she did the same for Teddy when she saw me and smiled. “Teddy, your mum’s here!”

It only took a minute or so before Teddy came stumbling out with his backpack thrown over one shoulder and his hair a messy mass of curls. I grinned at the sight of him and picked him up when he hurried to grab at my legs, “Heya, little man. Good day?”

Teddy nodded in my arms, opening his mouth to tell me all about it when he peered over my shoulder and paused, his eyes lit up at the face he found there. “Matty!” Teddy all but squealed, immediately wriggling in my hold to make an escape towards the man.

Matty laughed, his eyes wide and dancing with warmth as he held out his arms for Teddy to jump on into. I rolled my eyes at the exchange but couldn’t help the way my whole being radiated with the beaming smile I wore.

“Alright, monster?” Matty greeted him, settling Teddy on his hip once he was done playfully swinging him about a bit. “How was nursery, hey?”

Teddy was still so awed by Matty’s appearance at his school, of all places, that he was eager to tell the man literally everything about his day. It was only once we’d managed to make a quick exit out of one of the side gates, that Teddy finally asked, “How’d you get here, Matty?”

Matty merely grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at the boy, “Magic.”

With a wrinkled nose, Teddy giggled, “Matty!”

“Alright, alright, jheeze.” Matty relented, all too easily, “I annoyed your mum into letting me come pick you up, didn’t I?”

Teddy looked at me with that, as though I’d gone and put all of the stars into the night sky. “Ta, mama!”

I shook my head at him fondly, leaning in to press a kiss to my baby’s cheek. “You hungry?” I asked him, instead of focusing on the entire scenario at hand, how Teddy seemed to cling to Matty and how entirely charmed Matty was by the boy. They appeared so close in that moment, it made me notice just how different Teddy’s reactions to Matty were to that of Finn’s, a man who had always been a constant in Teddy’s life.

The thought sent me spiralling down a rabbit hole, but thankfully before I could fall any further Teddy was nodding happily and Matty was making a suggestion, “Dinner at mine then?”

Teddy seemed thrilled with the idea but I merely raised a brow at Matty, “What ever will we make with your one egg and half a dozen jams?”

“Toast?” Matty grinned, enjoying the eye roll he received in return as he leaned in to laugh with Teddy. He looked back to me after a moment, “Could head to the shops if you wanna cook, or just order in.”

I pursed my lips, “Would you be able to?”

“To what?” Matty frowned.

I looked ahead as I clarified, “Get some shopping.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes then, nudging his elbow against mine, “Yes, you muppet.” He shook his head when he glanced back at Teddy, feigning a huff that made the toddler giggle, “What do you want then, little man?”

“Ghetti.”

Matty could only blink.

–

By the time we’d made a quick whip around the local Waitrose (because Matty lives in an affluent area and not because he’s ‘pretentious’, he’d like to claim) and back to his, we’d been pictured more than a dozen times.

Although, we’d only found this out when I’d finally caught sight of my phone, wedged between Matty’s bed-frame and the mattress, and managed to charge it. In between then and now, I had roped Matty into helping me cook whilst Teddy worked at the counter doing today’s reading.

“B-ah.” Matty carefully sounded out, still wearing one of the mock aprons Ross had apparently gifted him one Christmas, it was frilly, pink and had ‘This girl loves meat’ written in a pretty font. My own was of a similar fashion, only the words ‘Always use protection’ were warped across its front. “B-ah-guh.” He said once more, leaning up against the counter by Teddy.

“Bag!” Teddy exclaimed excitedly and looked practically giddy when Matty loudly cheered for him.

“Go on, mate! Knew you could do it.” Matty complimented, grinning down at Teddy before ruffling his hair and pulling him into a one armed hug. “Let’s see if we can get the next one before your mum’s done with the spaghetti, yeah?”

Teddy was all too happy to agree, something I slightly resented seeing as he whinged and moaned whenever I asked. But it was nice to see him enjoying his homework for once, a concept that was still so mad to me considering the kid was four.

“‘Bout five minutes to boil now,” I told them as I wiped my hands on a nearby tea towel. My phone finally powered on then and so I moved about the counter to grab at it, not wanting to miss any important notifications. Adi and I had a guest on the show this week and had yet to be filled in on the requirements needed.

Only, before I could even pick the thing up, it started buzzing like mad with hundreds of notifications.

With wide eyes I turned to glance over at Matty, who had paused in his helping of Teddy and was already staring back at me. I blinked and then went to pick the thing up, even as it continued to buzz, but Matty was now moving too, “No, wait.”

I shook my head, wanting to know what the hell was happening, but Matty had been closer, quicker, and was already reaching out to grab it. “Let me look first.”

“Matty.” I huffed, annoyed, but the man didn’t relent. Actually his expression only worsened as he scrolled through the thousands of alerts on my phone. “Matty! What’s the fucks going on?”

“Bad word!”

I winced, then turned to look over my shoulder, “Sorry, Teds, won’t do it again. No chocolate for me tonight, yeah?” My toddler nodded sternly, it made me smile before I glanced back at Matty who’s mood had obviously soured. He tossed the phone back down onto the counter and went to leave the kitchen, I could only assume to look for his own, “Oi!” I admonished, but he just shook his head, seemingly muddled.

“Sorry. Just- gimme a sec.”

I watched as he left, Teddy eyes latched onto him too before he turned back to face me, “Sad Matty?” He asked and I gave him another small smile.

“Not sure, baby. But he’ll be okay in a second.” Or at least I hoped. Teddy took it though and nodded, already going back to his work, though he kept looking over at the door every few seconds.

I forced my shoulders to drop, knowing the tension would only wreak havoc on my back come bed tonight, and took a careful step towards my phone.

It had stopped pinging so incessantly now, but the odd notification still came through.

[HOMESCREEN] 17:18 Twitter now Trending.. Notifications.. Instagram now Open to view News 1m Matty Healy's new budding romance?

My heart stopped. It was all there, us dancing at the club, getting into the cab, Matty at his front gate this morning with the food delivery driver, us walking to pick up Teddy, the hug we'd shared in the playground, Matty holding a bundle that could have only been Teddy in an aisle at the shops- thankfully his face was hidden, the only saving grace of it all. But still, it all looked so convincing.

We were definitely in deep shit.

“Squeaks?”

My head snapped up to find Matty standing over by the counter, his body tense but a gentle hand holding Teddy’s own, the horror I felt must’ve shown on my face because he winced.

“We’ve gotta talk.”

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