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wedonthaveawhile · 4 months

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Baby, it's cold outside.

Garreth Weasley x MC (18+ only)

MC finds herself in Garreth's apothecary on Christmas Eve, and testing lust potion is on the agenda.

Tags: NSFW, smut with plot, aged-up characters, oral sex male receiving, lust potion sex, one bed trope, voice kink, praise kink, hurt/comfort, violence and gore.

AO3 // Wordcount: 5.5k

Muttering obscenities under her breath, the agitated witch half-hopped but mostly stumbled over another tomcat feasting on discarded street food. In the wake of Christmas, the tapering pavements of Hogsmeade were crammed with last-minute panic buyers laden with shopping bags.

One obstacle away from losing her footing on the mushy snow, she slipped into a familiar backstreet and pushed open the door to G.W. Potions.

The owner had his chin propped in a knotgrass-stained hand, scribbling in an overflowing notebook. Glancing up as the door chime announced her arrival, he broke into a wide smile.

"You're a lifesaver, you know that?"

“I know, I got your message,” Her eyes scanned the clusters of wax-sealed phials, the timber shelves much less packed than usual. "It sounded urgent, I believe your exact words were 'dire need’?"

"I might have been a little dramatic, I’m just running low on stock," Garreth admitted sheepishly. His mop of copper hair tumbled over his brow and he attempted to tame it with his cleanest hand. "I hope I haven’t disrupted your Christmas Eve? I wasn't sure if Friday was the last of your rounds."

"No, no you're fine. I was heading through to Gladrags for a delivery,” she lied.

She'd exchanged firm words with a few demanding clients who assumed she'd be available over the holidays but couldn't bring herself to impose the 'no-deliveries' rule on Garreth—a choice that felt counterproductive to the crush she'd been attempting to curb for months.

She justified it as a reciprocation of the kindness he’d shown her on previous deliveries—slipping tonics in her satchel whenever she offhandedly grumbled about a sleepless night with an orphaned thestral, or an inflamed laceration from a scrappy kneazle. He’d refuse payment, only asking she mark his map with shrubberies of ingredients she spotted while out raiding poacher camps.

She assumed this raised their relationship from business associates to something that resembled a friendship, and friends could bend the rules for each other without ulterior motives.

"Sorry, this time of year isn’t the best for shedding" she explained, sliding a folded cloth over the countertop. Pulling the edge back, she unveiled a modest bouquet of dense black fur. “Though Remi felt somewhat generous after I bribed him with the promise of coins.”

“So, you’re the middleman between me and a niffler?” His face lit up with one of those heart-stopping smiles, and she prayed that the twist in her gut wasn't reflected on her face. “What’s in it for you?”

"I figured having you owe me a favour couldn't hurt.”

"Favours are quickly becoming our preferred method of currency." He pivoted towards the excessive collection of potion stations, gathered beneath a 'staff only' sign swinging from a crooked nail. The cauldrons rattled on their supports, releasing densely packed bubbles that burst with trapped steam.

The witch slipped a finger in the weave of her scarf, easing it slightly to allow a breath of fresh air to caress her neck, “Are you rebranding as a sauna?”

"Sorry, I know it's sweltering back here," Garreth's eyes skimmed down the curve of her neck as she discarded the scrap of fabric. Stealthy enough, but stoking her hope nonetheless.

Clearing his throat, he shifted his focus to transfer a trio of niffler hairs into his mortar, along with a few drops of mallowsweet oil. "Any guesses today?"

She inhaled the spiralling vapour rising from the cauldron as he wafted the fog in her direction—there was a botanic scent of mandrake, tangy undertones of mint, and berries.

Wiggenweld? ...No, wrong colour, but it’s definitely medicinal.

“What kind of health tonic needs fur?” She eyed him accusingly. "Is this a trick question again, one of your experiments?"

His eyebrows lifted faintly, and a wave of pride washed over her when appeared impressed with her deduction. "I’ve sold out, and the snowstorm wiped out most of the dittany. I'm trying to brew a healing potion without it. Hence the..." He motioned toward the array of vessels stacked on his workstation, covered in a thick layer of curdled gunge. "I've almost cracked it... I'm pretty sure."

"It's interesting that healing potions are so in demand when everyone's spending extended time with their families."

"If everyone's relatives are like mine, I’d say it makes sense." Garreth rolled up his garish crimson sleeves to cool down, inadvertently warming her up with his toned forearms. He was the only wizard in a hundred-mile radius who could wear such a hideous Christmas jumper and still manage to attract several double-takes from captivated passersby. "When I dominate my niece at Pictionary, I always end up with a black eye."

"How old is your niece?"

"Three."

He gnawed on the inside of his lip, restraining a grin the way he typically did when having made her laugh. “What about your family, will you need medical assistance over Christmas?"

The herbology cabinet groaned in protest as the pair leaned against it, "The odds are high, but only because I’m spending my Christmas with a teenage hippogriff. Someone's got to stay at the sanctuary, and I drew the short straw this year”.

"Well, aside from a few hours at my folks tomorrow, I'll be here restocking. I won't be open to the public, but if... you know, if you need anything..."

His eyes lifted to meet hers, and tension coiled in her gut, shooting south at the thought of being alone with him in the locked store.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Yeah... of course," Garreth severed the eye contact, redirecting his attention to pick at the corroded hinges of the cabinet. "Sirona’s open over the holidays too."

“Oh... is she?”

He dove into a thorough breakdown of the Three Broomsticks festive menu. She nodded in amusement as he unnecessarily mimed the dimensions of the portions. She tucked away the knowledge that he worshipped turkey and cranberry burgers to the collection of other useless but endearing facts she'd gathered about him.

His cocktail of choice was red currant rum - She’d bumped into him on Halloween thoroughly intoxicated on the stuff. He’d feigned firing a toy arrow in her direction before proudly proclaiming he was Robin Hood, enunciating all the wrong words with the goofiest grin.

He outright denied being allergic to cats, inspecting the collar of each feline that decided to nap in a sunbeam on the steps of his shop, cooing their name before inevitably succumbing to three consecutive sneezes.

His family tree had long branches. On his opening weekend, she'd waded through a sea of proud redheads to reach the kiosk and hand over her business card.

"...Anyway, I wanted to mention it because, you know, if you’re alone for... well, not alone, but if you'll be around..."

Heat flared at the bottom of her spine, cautiously optimistic his rambling was veering toward an invitation.

A blast of glacial wind burst through the doorway as a customer wrenched it open. A light dusting of snow clung to his robes as he crossed the shop floor to the cabinet housing the erotic potions, taking a moment to tuck stray wisps of silvery hair into his hood.

Garreth's lips tightened into a taut line as he observed the elderly wizard pulling the entire supply of lust potion vials from the rack.

His thumb brushed his upper lip as he leaned in close, his elbow jostling her arm. "Do you reckon he takes them all in one go?"

"He'd orgasm from a pat on the head."

"Orgasm? My guy would be flung into the astral plane.”

She butted her forehead against his shoulder, struggling to transform her snort into an ill-concealed cough.

"I should get going, give you two some privacy."

"Attraction has to be in the fold for those potions to do their thing, and he's not my type," Garreth's eyes flitted to her lips, but the tinkling of thirteen phials skidding across the kiosk drew them away.

She reluctantly bundled back up into her scarf while Garreth seamlessly transitioned back into storekeeper mode.

"Have a great Christmas."

"You too, see you next time," he waved at her, turning his attention to the eager customer.

The witch spent her evening re-stitching the ruptured wound of an adolescent Hippogriff, the beast fluctuated between snapping at lacewing flies and charging aggressively toward its caretaker.

Collecting the fallen feathers from the creature's wings, she updated the ledger with the newfound stock, clucking her teeth disapprovingly at the sight of the diminishing list.

What did Garreth say was in short supply? Dittany?

During last week's Hippogriff rescue, she recalled noticing shrubs nestled in the mouth of a cave. It was a harsh winter, finances were stretched, and adding dittany to the stock during a surge in demand would ensure the creatures' comfort for the remaining winter months. Not to mention, it provided a convenient excuse to take Garreth up on his offer of dropping by.

After feeding the remaining beasts and wrapping them snug in warming charms she headed off to investigate.

Her destination wasn't far—a short ride up a shallow mountain. However, the wind thrashed against her broom. The bristles and handle careened in wildly opposing directions as she blundered through the dense forest, with a lumos scarcely penetrating two feet of the blistering snowstorm.

She sought refuge by the wreckage of a stone cottage, navigating through twisted roots and debris until she reached the cavern. Her nose wrinkled at the musty stench emanating from the path ahead, barely visible through a shroud of thick cobwebs. With a silent prayer that this was the right spot, she ignited the tangled web with a tap of her wand, the smouldering strands lit the passage and in the fleeting light, she saw a twitch in the shadows.

She’d barely uttered the Lumos incantation before a force erupted from the shadows, striking her face and propelling her into a bank of tightly packed snow. She desperately palmed the moisture flooding her vision, pale fingers smothering in the warmth of her blood. The forest whirled around her as she was hoisted into the air and slammed back to the ground.

She blindly blasted the acromantula into crumbling ruins with a frenzied swish of her wand. The arachnid recoiled from the thunderous blow, sprawling onto the ground before burrowing beneath the earth.

Scouring the terrain for any indication of the beast, a trail of crimson droplets stained the snow as she backed away, a ferocious blast of icy wind lashing at her throbbing wound.

Wiggenweld, I need wiggenweld.

The invasive thought tore through her mental image of the sanctuary farmhouse as she apparated.

Ploughing shoulder-first into a weathered door, the impact reverberated through her bones, pinging her brain around in her skull.

The skunky stench of wizzenweed curled into her nostrils, mingling with the sharp reek of spilt beer she'd stomped into and splattered up her ankles.

She swiped her hand across her eyes to smear away the blood and the harsh click of a lock snapped her back to reality—back to Hogsmeade.

Mellow candlelight exploded like a flashbang as a door creaked open, and a broad figure silhouetted against the orange glow said her name.

"Garreth?"

Humiliation struck her chest like a knife—a solid blow between her lungs. Tacky blood clung from her eyebrow to the corner of her mouth, pulling at her skin as she fought to articulate an explanation.

“What happened to you?”

"I'm so sorry, I tried apparating home, but the… it was a mistake. I needed wiggenweld… but the shortage, that’s what you told me, so I thought of you, and, I could've splinched…”

"Whoa, take a breath, you're talking a mile a minute.”

Garreth’s hands were firm on her shoulders as he steered her towards the counter and settled her on his chair. Flames from the brewing station twinkled in and out of focus as she tried to hone in on him dragging an extra stool across the floorboards, taking a seat in front of her.

"This doesn’t look like a hippogriff wound. Did someone do this to you?"

“N-no, no I was just being reckless… I did this to myself.”

She quivered as the crook of his warm finger tipped her chin up, assessing the cut with suspicious emerald eyes.

"I'm sorry," she momentarily forgot how to breathe as his thumb traced a slow path up her cheekbone. "I didn't mean to bother you. I probably have some healing tonic in a drawer at home..."

"Stop with the apologies, I told you to drop by if you needed anything, didn't I?"

A stack of flannels rested beside a simmering cauldron. He reached for one, tilting her face as he dabbed at the coagulated blood.

"It’s not as bad as it looks,” he declared, slinging the cloth over his shoulder. He scratched his forehead, a streak of crimson smearing across his freckles. "It's not too deep. If you'll let me, I could stitch some of the shallower parts back together?"

She nodded, fighting back a soft sound when he applied the tiniest bit of pressure to her throat to keep her steady. The flesh throbbed as the tip of his wand traced down the wound, his copper lashes fluttering with concentration.

It felt glaringly obvious she was intentionally avoiding eye contact. She studied the awkward, rigid dance of the misshapen reindeer on his jumper as a distraction, scattered patches of burnt fabric lay strewn in their path. Some splashes of the corrosive substance had scorched through completely, frayed fibers exposing freckles scattered across his breastbone like tiny constellations.

“You shouldn’t be wearing this.”

He quirked an eyebrow, "What would you prefer me in?”

Her complexion transitioned from deathly pale to a fiery red in seconds, "No, I just mean... the stains. They look like they’re irritating your skin," she said, reaching out instinctively. Her fingertip traced around an exposed patch of inflamed skin, causing Garreth to inhale sharply.

The atmosphere shifted. His dilated eyes locked onto hers as she glanced up and tension rippled between them, her freezing hand poised on his chest while he cradled her jaw.

Tender fingertips brushed aside strands of wet hair that clung to her cheek. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Spider," her voice barely rose above a whisper before she cleared her throat lightly. "Set its house on fire."

"Rescuing a beast?"

She responded with a noncommittal hum.

I flew up a mountain in a storm and set an acromantula on fire to find Dittany because you mentioned it briefly.

She'd be carrying that one to the grave. Or reserving the tale for their grandkids—hinging on whether the trauma scrambled her brain enough to ask him out for a drink on New Year's.

The hold on her lungs slackened as Garreth rose to his feet and fetched a trio of potions from a lofty shelf, "Murtlap essence for minor skin abrasions and it will stop you from bruising, a calming draught for shock, and this one’s for internal damage. You don't seem to have a concussion, but just in case." He arranged them on the desk alongside a clean glass before adding "They're not renowned for their flavour, you're better off taking them all at once."

With a weak expression of gratitude, she swallowed the amalgamated concoctions. The blend curdled on her tongue, flopping into her stomach like a sodden lump of wet cement.

Garreth chuckled at her attempt to conceal a grimace. "You should recover fairly quickly, but just in case, is there someone back home who can make sure you're taken care of tonight?"

"No, I run the sanctuary with a friend, but she's at her Gran's for Christmas," she fidgeted with the hem of her coat. If she had been seriously hurt, nobody would have had a clue where to find her, let alone bother looking. "It's just me.”

Garreth nodded, twirling his pestle in circles inside his mortar. She sensed his question might have been an indirect hint for her to leave.

Swallowing down her disappointment, she rose to her feet. "Well, thank you for coming to my rescue. I’ll—"

“You should stay here tonight,” he interrupted before she could finish her sentence, pivoting towards her with hands on his hips. "I just… I don't think you should be left alone after something like this."

"Here?” She stared at her mud-splattered work boots to try and conceal the blood swarming her cheeks. “Are we supposed to top and tail on your brewing station?"

"I live above the shop. You can take the bed, I sleep on the sofa most nights anyway – I can grab you some dry clothes too."

Her overactive imagination slashed through the depths of her mind leaving behind tattered shreds of unadulterated filth. Sleeping in his bed, swaddled in one of his knitted pullovers – was he trying to kill her?

"Didn't know you were such a night owl," she deflected, anxiously nibbling on her lip as the storm screamed past the window.

If he’d detected her brain being filthy, he wasn't letting on. Swinging open a cabinet door, he produced a bottle of billowing crimson liquor, suspending it between two fingers. "I got some red currant rum from a customer. Given that it's technically Christmas Day, perhaps we should celebrate?"

"Is it that late?" She craned her neck to check the time—twelve o’ twelve. "Was this whole white knight act just a way to lure me into keeping you company on Christmas?"

"Act? Come on now, are we just going to pretend you didn't think of me on your deathbed?"

The calming draught had worked too well, eclipsing any hint of shame she might have felt from that comment with the flicker of bad intentions in his eyes.

"You seem more than happy to receive me."

The cupboard beneath the potion station emitted a groan from its corroded joints as Garreth began searching for a pair of untarnished glasses. "What can I say? I have a thing for women covered in blood," he paused, peeking over the door, "I swear I’m not going to murder you, that joke came out wrong."

She laughed as he polished water spots from the vessels with his gaudy jumper and placed them next to his replenished stock—rows of incandescent fuchsia spiralling in heart-shaped containers.

"Luxtentia," she read aloud from the label, a scrap of parchment detailing the trial-and-error process tucked alongside it. "Did I catch you in the middle of trialling new potions?"

“Lust potion,” Garreth clarified, allowing the scarlet alcohol to flow liberally into their cups. "Believe me, you'd be noticing some side effects if I had been testing that."

Tugging at the loose threads of his words felt almost instinctual.

"...Attraction has to be in the fold for lust potions to work," she tilted her head innocently, quoting his earlier words, "Doesn’t it?"

Handing her a brimming glass of the berry-infused cocktail, Garreth took a sip of his own while studying her over the rim. "Did I say that?" He appeared wholly unruffled, and a twist of arousal lit her up at the fact.

"Word for word."

He tapped a finger against his drink thoughtfully, "Would it work both ways?"

She let the back of her head thump against the barren shelf, half-hoping the collision might knock some virtue into her. No such luck. "Do you want to take me upstairs and find out?"

His grin was blinding, and a delicious anticipation blasted into her. An unspoken dare hung in the air, both silently challenging the other to make a move. He gave in first, reaching out to collect two vials of the blushing potion and pressing them into her palm.

"Your move."

She feigned a thoughtful pause before digging her nails into the stoppers and pouring a vial into each of their beverages.

Raising his glass with a wild glint in his eyes, she tapped hers against it before they knocked back the entire drink in perfect unison.

Sparks charged down her oesophagus as she set down the glass, and her clothes clung to her skin like she'd been dunked in honey. Was that the potion? What an insufferable side effect —though the logic became apparent as the urge to strip away every layer waged war against a rapidly declining sigh of restraint.

“Do you feel anything?”

Garreth’s voice burrowed under her skin – Was it always that deep-rooted and husky? If his voice was making her wet, actual sex might ruin her.

His face swam when she glanced up at him, features swirling like the post outside Madam Snelling's Tress Emporium. She couldn’t feel anything except how her skin was so tight she might rip out of herself. “I… feel drunk.”

His hand crept towards her in excruciatingly slow motion, each passing second punctuated by a thousand splintering cracks of her heart against her ribcage.

The warmth of his fingers on her wrist seeped through her clothes and scattered like white-hot stars beneath her skin. In her mind's eye, she watched those fingers tugging at the roots of her hair, tightening around her throat, satisfying the desire swirling between her thighs – Oh, she was fucked.

"Look at me," Garreth crooned, oblivious to the fact that his words were licking at her like flames. He kept talking, something about a rose, but his words were swallowed by the ringing in her ears.

"What?" she asked, dumbfounded by the cascade of words pouring from his lips.

“Your cheeks are all rosy, are you warm?”

His voice. His fucking voice.

She thrust the heel of her palms into her eyes, but his scent clawed into her lungs— Mallowsweet and shrivelfig fruit, blending with the smokiness from the ever-burning stove. She wanted to bury her face in the crook of his neck, to trace her tongue along his pulse until she could taste it too.

“Sweetheart?”

He had never said that before, only ever referring to her by name. When she cracked open her eyes, she saw that his were feral, locking onto her like a predator sizing up its prey. His pupils were blown out, the vibrant emerald engulfed by black.

Her uneasy laughter cut through the fog, hands instinctively reaching out until she found herself pulling him closer by the fabric of his sweater. "Garreth, what the hell is this?"

"I didn't know it was this... intense." His fingers pressed into the burning flesh of her cheeks, unsure whether they were pulling her closer or attempting to keep her at bay. Her tongue chased the pad of his thumb as he swept it across her parted lips. "Do you want me to take you to bed?"

"Apparate us.”

His hands descended to her neck as he drew her to his lips.

A fierce tug deep in her belly wrenched her in every direction as they plummeted into a disorderly pit of tangled blankets. The overpowering scent of his bedroom had her in a chokehold. Her greedy attempt to inhale the air was cut off as he took her lips again, his thigh sliding between hers.

She scraped her nails through his gorgeous hair, tugging the locks at his nape to lick along the sheen of his throat. The salty tang of his restraint was the single most delicious thing she had ever tasted. The groan he let escape reverberated against her lips and she imagined him moaning like that against her ear, his hips grinding into hers.

“Fuck, do that again.”

“I knew it,” her breathy laugh dispersed across his skin as she gave the sleek strands another tug. “You like that?”

"You often think about what turns me on?"

He buried his face in the curve of her throat, seeking out her pulse point. The unexpected pleasure of his bite triggered a sultry whine—she’d never made that sound before, but the potion had flushed out any ounce of indignity. He sucked a bruise into her skin, grinning as she grasped at his clothes in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Take this off, please," she scrambled with the hem. His rock-hard arousal was digging into her stomach and the fabric barriers were driving her insane.

"Don’t bother begging," his words rumbled against her neck as they both shed the constraints of their clothes, "I'll give you everything." His voice was twitchy, cracking apart with lust. An eternity passed before fabric was dragged down her thighs and found a home somewhere in the mountain of blankets.

She could barely feel his fingers—just an explosive shockwave blasting across her body. His other hand gripped the base of her skull, coaxing her mouth open, telling her how wet she was.

"Hear how pretty you sound?"

He added another finger, and stars streaked across her vision as she arched into his touch. Her body responded on pure instinct, thrusting helplessly as he mimicked with his hand what she was almost delirious for.

"My mouth sounds better."

Coarse hairs tickled her skin as she slid her fingers under the waistband of his trousers with the hope that touching him back might appease the hunger.

He thrust into her palm with a needy gasp, and it knocked her breathing shallow. In an instant, she'd pushed him onto his back, running her tongue up the entire length of his swollen cock, before swirling around the head.

The man reclining under her was almost unrecognisable, his untamed hair spilling into his black, wild eyes. Unnatural, jerky shudders wracked through his chest.

Sticking out her tongue, Garreth responded with a primal snarl, seizing the invitation to take control.

"There you go, is that what you want?" he whispered, sliding himself between her lips.

Her eyes welled up at the imposing size of him gliding across her tongue, but she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was how he was gazing at her like she was the answer to everything—Water in the desert.

She took in as much of him as she could, her wrist twisting around what she couldn't. He was ramming into her too hard, but the potion smoothed out the rough edges, turning it passionate.

Gravelly snippets of praise were spilling from his mouth, and the ruined edge to his voice threatened to make her come from his words alone. A particularly greedy thrust pounded the back of her throat at the wrong angle, and she jerked back with a rasping cough.

In less than a second, she was caged under a warm body. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be treating you like this."

"Don't be sorry, make me take it."

"Fucking hell," he groaned, descending her body and parting her legs with his palms.

She latched onto his hair, pulling him towards her lips. "No, not your mouth, I need more."

She knew she was being demanding, he just wanted to reciprocate what she had done for him, but the distance between them felt like too much, and she needed it annihilated.

“You need it?"

He taunted her clit with the head of his dick. She didn't want to waste time, he could go down on her in round two because she was so turned on by him fucking her mouth that she was shaking.

He gently nudged at her entrance, and not a single discernible word occupied her mind. She relied on her needy whining to convey what words couldn't, her nails scraping against his broad shoulders as she desperately sought an anchor.

“I don’t think I can go slow.”

"I don't want slow."

The air was squeezed from her lungs as he sank into her, bottoming out with one stroke. An orgasm struck her instantly but being so overstimulated it scarcely penetrated the fog—just a fleeting flash of lightning between her thighs.

Garreth froze as the aftereffects pulsed around him, whimpers fracturing through his voice as he strained to remain still. "Do you need me to stop?"

"No," she squirmed in an attempt to coax his hips back into action. He twitched inside her, and she gasped, "I want more." Hardly had the words left her lips when he thrust into her with such force that it sent her eyes rolling back.

“Pull my hair again."

“Make me come again.”

The speed he set was almost inhuman as her nails clawed across his scalp and down his neck. She planted her heels on the mattress to gain some control and push back into him, but he grabbed the backs of her thighs, holding her in place—spreading her open under him.

"Is this what you wanted every time you pulled out an excuse to drop by?" His hips stuttered when he looked down at the point where they were connected. She was drenched, dripping with how badly she needed him. Taking a deep breath, he started meticulously inspecting the Gryffindor Quidditch flag above his headboard, resisting the urge to finish before her.

Her heart sped up at his words and she could hear herself producing feathery noises as he extracted pleasure from her, "What took you so long to give it to me?"

"You're too cute, made me nervous," he grinned, seizing her nipple in his teeth, and pulling on it until she whimpered. "Push into me, let me have you."

His restraint oscillated, the tender kisses on her neck escalating into gnawing at her throat. The persistent pounding of his hips matched the increasing intensity, delving into the deepest parts of her with each blissful drag of his cock.

"Moan for me, those beautiful sounds are driving me insane."

This wasn't the Christmas she expected: Garreth Weasley's fingers splayed across her throat, conjuring ethereal pleasure with every precise thrust of his hips.

“Garreth...”

“I know, sweetheart." He withdrew his hand from where he was holding her legs apart, using his thumb to trail a lopsided circle around her bundle of nerves. “Come on, give me one more.”

His voice thrust her over the edge and she felt every part of her orgasm splinter through her body.

"Where do you want me to come?" he asked desperately. She was still in the throes of ecstasy, shivering uncontrollably from the high of watching him falling apart. "Tell me.”

"Come inside me," she said hoarsely. Her body was exhausted and hypersensitive, the only reason she forced herself to stay conscious was to witness him unravel.

An aftershock pulsated around him, and he shoved his face into the crook of her neck as he released deep inside her. His fingers clamped onto her thighs so tightly they throbbed, but she was too drained to muster the strength to push them off.

He lazily circled his hips into hers, as if he couldn’t bear to stop. Interlocking their fingers, he planted kisses across her knuckles. The sweet gesture made her heart stutter, and as her head nestled into a soft pile of pillows, sleep quickly claimed her.

She had a hazy memory of stirring in the night with a heavy arm over her waist and knees nestled into the crook of hers. There was something hard and insistent digging into the small of her back and when she shifted to relieve the pressure, he had whined—fucking whined.

His lips navigated her skin until they found that sweet spot under her ear, and she arched back. He accepted the invitation and slid into her. Reaching around to grip his hair, she tugged hard enough for him to reciprocate the pressure with his teeth on her shoulder. Her chest thrummed against his palm as he held her tightly, murmuring sweet nothings while fucking her slowly. He was half-asleep, but he was himself.

The daylight streamed in, too bright, with flakes purring against the window as they cascaded from the skies. Garreth’s bedroom was snug, nothing more than a bed and a chaotic pile of thumbed potion books scattered across the floor. Rolling over, she discovered a mess of red hair protruding from the green blankets.

“Merry Christmaaaaas,” he groaned, his words muffled by the bedding.

"You should've woken me up and kicked me out. Don't you have plans?"

"Guess how many are over at my folks' for Christmas?" He emerged squinting. "Uncles, aunties, cousins, nephews, nieces, girlfriends, boyfriends— What’s the headcount?"

She flung an arm across her eyes, shrugging. His ability to nosedive straight into a conversation after just waking up baffled her. "Twenty-two?"

"Thirty-eight. They won't notice if one is late," he started kissing her, slow, sweet, and sinful. "And they won't notice if there's one more?"

She huffed out a laugh at his fearless invitation, "I can't gatecrash, the last thing I want to do on Christmas day is piss off thirty-eight Weasleys."

“My aunt Matilda will be more upset if I turn up alone for yet another year. It's your decision, but I'm impatient. Waiting a whole year to flaunt you doesn't sit right with me."

Definitely a far cry from the Christmas she had imagined.

“I’d love to.”

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gglitch1dd · 10 months

Text

You Know your Work

Teacher Aizawa x Student Reader

Request: @camilosimping: Hi! Sry if it's too much for you to take another request, I saw you took a lot of them. I was wondering if you could do professor aizawa x fem student, who just got a pretty bad grade.

A/N: Hey babes! I can't tell how much I wanted to cry writing this. Sorry for the long wait. I had to do some other things and my IRL was getting a bit hectic but its better now. I really hope you like it!!

Warning: This is NOT romantic or sexual in anyways so don't get that idea. This is a comfort piece. Also, Reader cries and its okay to cry.

Aizawa was walking around handing back papers. You were silent as your leg moved up and down underneath your table. You had studied so hard for this test and yet when you were writing it felt as if it handed your ass back to you. You were so worried. You really did your best, you tried doing everything you could, taking breaks and not cramming in last minute so you really hoped for the best.

You swallowed down hard as Mr Aizawa walked over to your desk. He placed the paper face down in front of you before moving on to Midoriya who sat behind you. You closed your eyes as you slowly touched the paper. You prayed hard to the heavens hoping that they were in your favour. Carefully you turned the paper around.

48%

You paused as you stared down at the number in front of you, hoping that the longer you looked at it, the numbers would swop themselves. You felt your heart sink as you looked at the number. You instantly felt numb as you weren’t even sure you could breathe nor make a sound.

“Sero,” Denki said outloud turning to one of his best friends as he held his paper. He shook his head with a laugh. “How’s it looking?” He said.

The dark-haired hero in training put a grimace on his face. He shook his head. “Not looking good.”

Denki nodded his head as he looked at his paper. “Yah, not looking good.”

Momo let out a displeased hum as she nodded her head. “Yah.” She spoke as she turned her paper back around with a disappointed look. “I was really hoping for a 95 this time. I can’t believe I got an 85.” She stated almost as if it was the worst thing in the world.

Denki and Sero widened their eyes as they looked at one another. He looked back down at their papers. They grimaced.

You felt yourself shrink into your blazer as you forced yourself not to cry. Everything and everyone around you felt almost as if they were too loud or too quiet. It was all too much for you. How could you have failed? You tried so hard this time. You really did. You tried your best. Of course, you weren’t perfect and maybe if you spent a bit less time on your phone you could have gotten more hours in, but you tried.

You really tried.

You bit your lip forcing yourself not to cry as you opted just to look out the window and silence out the rest of the class.

Soon the lessons came to an end, and you all had an hour before training at the end of the day. You were slow and the last one to pack away your things. You swallowed down hard, trying to think what you would tell your parents. You closed your eyes, willing yourself not to cry as you stared at the ground heading out of class.

“L/N.” You paused at the use of your family name. You turned back to see Mr Aizawa standing with his arms crossed as he looked at you. You swallowed down hard as you turned around fully, forcing yourself not to frown at the sight of him. Of course it wasn’t Aizawa’s fault you failed, but you really didn’t want to see the teacher of the subject that you fail right now. He motioned for you to come forward and that is what you did. You swallowed down hard, willing yourself to try and stay as stoic as you could be. He let out a breath.

You knew what he was going to say.

Try harder. Do more exercises. Read more. Focus.

The same shit everybody tells you.

“You know your work.” You froze at the statement as you looked at him with wide eyes. He turned to the stack of papers he had and shuffled through them before finding yours. “Your answers… when I was marking them, they showed that you know your work.” He stated truthfully as he took a step forward, his dark eyes on you as he spoke. Although he looked as stoic as ever, borderline emotionless, you could tell there was genuine appreciation behind his words. “I can see when a student knows their work. You just need a bit of an extra push with your answers. Its almost like you know the answer but you’re only giving half of it.” He explained putting your paper back down.

He put his hands in his pockets and let out a breath. He could see you weren’t totally convinced. He didn’t blame you. He saw how you reacted in class and he noticed it throughout the day as you barely interacted with the class or the activities. He frowned slightly, dark eyebrows pushed together for a moment before easing.

“How about you start doing the extra exercises at the back of the textbook and you send your answers to me. We can work through them together and help get your answers to where they need to be. Hm?” He put on a smidge of a smile, more than you would ever get from him. “You’re a good student, L/N. It’s important you know that this exam doesn’t change that.”

You scowled, your jaw vibrating as you tried to stop yourself from crying. You lower your head in front of him, biting back whimpers and sobs. You quickly wiped your eyes as you couldn’t stop the tears no matter how hard you tried. “I’m sorry.” You let out with sniffs. You knew that Aizawa would hate you for crying. You were to become a future hero, you didn’t need to cry. You sniffed as you couldn’t stop the sobs. You couldn’t stop the tears as they came bubbling out of you.

You felt a hand on your shoulder making you suck in a breath. You looked up to see Mr Aizawa, as serious as he always was, with his arms open, offering you a hug. You paused for a second taking it in, before feeling your emotions overcome you once more.

You walked into the hug with a sullen look, looping your arms around him as you clutched onto his black shirt and tried to stop the only intensifying sobs that racked through you. Aizawa wrapped his arms around you as he rubbed your back. You cried only harder. “I-I… I-”

“Breathe.” He reminded you calmly. His hair smelt like jasmine shampoo and you were pretty sure that you were letting tears into his hair but he didn’t seem to mind.

You took a deep breath to stop your hiccupping, letting it out again. You took another breath. “I-I really tried th-this time, Sensei. I promise.”

He rubbed your back soothingly. “I know, kid. I know. You did your best and for that, I’m proud.” He reminded you. Aizawa stood there and let you cry into his chest. Let you cry until you weren’t even sure where you were. Together he would help you get to where you wanted to go. But right now…

Now you just needed him to be there with you.

-Glitch1d

#mha x y/n #bnha #aizawa headcanons #aizawa x reader #shota aizawa #aizawa sensei #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa x student reader #aizawa comfort #aizawa fluff #dadzawa #aizawa x you #aizawa shota x reader #mha aizawa #mha comfort

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multi-fandomfuckboy · 8 months

Text

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 24: Tension

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 24, Part 25 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Hope you guys like this one! Word Count: 5,112 Warnings: Language, Suggestive themes, panic attacks

Friday morning you wake up with the violent urge to vomit. You move on autopilot, cooking, dressing, brushing your teeth, kissing your mom goodnight. You can’t bring yourself to eat anything, not trusting your stomach to hold it down with the way it's doing somersaults.

It doesn't help that when you got home last night all you could think about was Billy. You had to force yourself to strip off his clothes and take a shower, hoping it would calm you down. It didn’t. Everytime you closed your eyes you saw him, how he had looked lying next to you, how he had felt under you, his body against yours, his arms around you, his smell, his taste…

Needless to say, you didn't get much sleep. But somewhere in the night your thoughts shift from Billy to the upcoming exam. You know that you’re not ready. You’ve been studying constantly but you have the sinking feeling that it’s not going to be enough.

When Steve picks you up he’s all smiles, excited for the last day before winter break. He tells you about the ski trip he and his family take every year to Colorado, but everything he says goes in one ear and out the other. Your mind swirls as all the information Billy has crammed into your mind over the past week tries to organize itself. The twisting in your stomach only gets worse when Steve pulls into the school parking lot, you can feel the panic growing, humming in the back of your mind that just won't settle.

“Hey, I’ve got to head to the bathroom before class, I don’t feel good.” You say, unintentionally cutting Steve off. His eyes turn to you, looking you over, his happy expression quickly shifting into one of worry.

“Oh, okay. Are you alright?” He asks, clearly concerned.

“I’m fine. I just need a minute.” you tell him, not even able to give him a fake smile as you quickly open your door. You climb out of the car taking a deep breath, letting the cold air penetrate your lungs, before you start towards the school. Steve follows after you, rushing to catch up. The two of you enter the school, other students rushing around you, idle chatter filling the air, only adding to your growing anxiety.

“You sure? Do you need anything? I can run to Malvald’s really quick and get you something.” He offers, gently grabbing your arm. For some reason the touch feels suffocating to you, and without thinking you rip your arm out of his grasp whipping around to face him.

“Jesus! I’m fine Steve! I just need a minute, alone!” You snap. Steve’s eyes initially widen in surprise at your outburst but he quickly ducks his head, trying to hide the hurt you know is clearly written on his face. You immediately wish you could take it back.

“Right. I’m- uh- I’m sorry.” Steve says, taking a slight step back, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Steve, no. I’m just-” you try to explain, taking a step towards him. He takes another step back.

“It’s okay, really. I’m going to get to class.” Steve says, taking a step around you. He gives you a small smile that looks so forced in your eyes. “I hope you feel better.” He says, before turning fully and walking away.

You watch him retreat down the hall, you don't miss how he hangs his head rubbing at the back of his neck as he goes. You feel like such a jerk. Steve was just trying to help and you bit his head off. You groan, heading towards the gym you ignore the few pairs of eyes that follow you as you go, having seen the interaction. You didn’t mean to get upset like that, it’s just that this test feels like it’s life or death. To make matters worse you should have been spending every last second studying instead of daydreaming about Billy.

You pace back and forth in front of the lockers between the bathrooms outside the gym, anxiously running your fingers through your hair.

You’re going to fail this exam, and then history all together. No college is going to want you with grades like that. Then on top of all that, you just pushed away one of your only friends because you couldn’t get a grip. You feel like a psycho. The anxiety and shame mix forming a pit in your gut, all of it bubbling up inside of you causing your hands to shake. This is ridiculous! You’ve helped save the world twice, nearly dying in the process multiple times, but a history test is what threatens to send you into a spiraling panic.

“Fuck!” You yell, a burst of anger shooting though you. Turning you slam your foot into the metal lockers, filling the empty hallway with a loud bang. It hurts your foot but you kick out again, denting the metal.

“Whoa there, loca! Angry and destructive are my things.” Billy’s lilting voice calls from your left. You don’t respond, taking off your bag and pulling out his food for the day. He comes to a stop in front of you. “Don't tell me I’ve been a bad influence on you.” He teases, his white teeth flashing in his usual smug grin.

You keep your eyes down, not wanting him to see the tears of frustration that threaten to blur your vision. You’ve heard his thoughts on feeling sorry for yourself and are not in the mood for another rant about how useless it is.

When you don't respond, Billy’s smile fades. You can feel his eyes scrutinizing your every breath.

“You okay?” he asks, the teasing tone in his voice gone.

“I’m fine.” you say, keeping your voice firm trying to even out your rapid breathing. “Just take the food, I have to get to class.” you say, holding out the containers to him, fighting to stop the shaking in your hands.

Billy takes a step forward, reaching out to take the food. Instead of grabbing the containers he grabs your wrist tugging you towards him, causing you to stumble forward almost running into him.

“Hey!” You protest, getting your feet under you again. Before you can say anything else Billy’s hand is on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes are narrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, looking over your face with such intensity you could almost confuse it with anger. But you’ve seen him angry and this is not that.

“What’s going on? Why do you look like you’re about to be sick or burst into tears any second?” He asks. You’re surprised by the lack of judgment in his question but still you open your mouth to tell him that you’re fine. He cuts you off. “And don't give me any of that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit. We both know it’s a fucking lie so don’t even try it.” he tells you firmly.

You hate that your body's response to him looking at you like this, asking if you’re okay, demanding that you tell him if something is wrong, isn't anger. Instead more tears fill your eyes, blinking once they finally spill down your cheeks.

Billy’s eyes widen momentarily. He lets go of your wrist and chin, using both of his hands to hold your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“I’m going to fail history!” You blurt out, pulling his hands away from you and taking a step back, wiping furiously at your face.

“Is that what this is about?” Billy asks, disbelievingly. He shakes his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m serious Billy!” you groan, glaring at him. “I’m going to fail history because my brain is fucking broken or something!”

“Hey! Listen to me crazy, you’re not going to fail.” Billy says firmly, stepping towards you again, placing both of his hands on your shoulders. He keeps his eyes leveled on you, his voice steady. “You’ve got this. Do you really think I would have put as much time and effort into teaching you if I thought you couldn’t nail this thing?” he asks, lifting a brow. “You’re cooking may be good but I value my time more than anything.” he tells you seriously. You keep your eyes on him, searching his face for the lie.

“You’re going to pass.” he says with such conviction, you almost believe him. “But you can’t do anything until you calm down.” He tells you, his hands tightening slightly on your shoulders. “Take a deep breath, count to ten, and keep telling yourself ‘I’ve got this’. Okay?” he instructs. “Confidence is 90% mental. Let me see you do it.” You know his eyes are on you even as you close your eyes, filling your lungs with air, counting silently in your mind repeating the affirmation.

“Do it again.” he orders. You repeat the process, slowly feeling your pulse regulate and the panic slither back from your mind. You hear Billy chuckle.

“Good. I think oxygen is finally getting to your brain.” Billy says, causing you to open your eyes and immediately roll them. But part of you thinks he must be right, you are still nervous but the paralyzing fear you felt is nearly gone. You wonder where he learned that. If he has ever had to use it himself?

“Thank you, Billy.” You say, hoping he can see how much you mean it.

“Don’t thank me yet, loca. You can do that after you ace this test.” he says, another smirk flashing his perfect teeth. Letting go of your shoulders with one more reassuring squeeze he takes the containers of food from your hands. Without another word, the warning bell rings, both of you head to your respective classes.

The rest of the day you continue to repeat Billy’s calming routine whenever you start to feel your panic rising up. You practice all through lunch while you study, unable to find Steve who must still be upset about this morning. You know you will have to see him after basketball practice, there is no way he is going to leave you without a ride home.

You are actively counting to ten as you walk towards history. You don’t notice Billy fall into step beside you only glancing at him when you feel his hand slip into yours. It’s subtle and in the bustling hallway it would look like he simply brushed against you. Neither of you stop walking as he leans in slightly.

“You’ve got this.” he says firmly, giving your hand a squeeze before letting it fall, both of you entering the class.

During the exam you focus on remembering all the stories Billy told you. All the long nights of putting the pieces into a cohesive plot. You recognize a lot of the material even though there are a few questions that stump you. You have to take a few deep breaths when your classmates begin to rise one at a time as they finish. You're not even halfway done as they set their completed tests on Mr. Willson’s desk, exiting the classroom. Billy is among the first to leave. You watch him confidently swagger to the front setting his test down. His eyes meet yours as he walks to the door, he gives you a nod and a quick wink before exiting.

You don’t finish until the last minute of class, reading and rereading every question checking your answers. It’s only you left in the classroom as you rise taking a deep breath walking to the front. Mr. Willson watches you, one brow raised as you place your test in front of him.

“Grades will be posted by the end of the day.” he says stoically, taking your test and placing it on the large stack to his right. You exit quickly, the urge to snatch your test back just to check one more thing is overwhelming.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder you exit into the busy hallway. You notice the palpable energy that fills the air, everyone excited for the last class before winter break officially starts.

You spot Billy leaning against the lockers ahead of you, casually scanning the hallway with his practiced indifference. You wonder if he’s been waiting all this time for you. You start towards him, hoping to talk about the questions on the test you weren't sure about. His eyes meet yours but before you can reach him someone steps directly into your path. You stop short, nearly running directly into Steve’s chest.

“Hey.” he greets you, a hesitant smile already in place.

“Hey.” you respond, taking a small step back. You aren't sure how to act after what happened this morning. You want to apologize but the words are escaping you. There is a pause as both of you look at eachother, students hurry past, breaking around you like a rock in a stream.

“About this morning, I-”

“I’m sorry about this mo-” you both say at the same time. It manages to break the tension, causing both of you to chuckle. It lightens your heart seeing a more genuine smile on his face.

“Sorry, you go first.” Steve says, gesturing for you to continue.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened this morning. I know that you were just trying to help.” You say, keeping your eyes on him despite the urge to look at your shoes. You have lost friends by not saying what needs to be said, and you would be damned if you let it happen again. “I’m sorry I snapped at you like that.” you say earnestly. Steve shakes his head at your words.

“No, I’m sorry too. I know I can be a bit much sometimes. I didn’t mean to smother you or anything. I just want you to know if you ever need space I’m cool with that, I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me everything.” He apologies, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You smile slightly, feeling all the tension between the two of you dissipate.

“Apology accepted.” you say extending your hand. “Friends?” you ask, lifting a brow. Steve glances at your offered hand, his smile growing.

“Friends.” Steve confirms, taking your hand and giving it a firm shake. You both smile at each other and despite the crowded hallway you let him pull you into a tight hug. He squeezes you tightly, lifting you off the ground for a moment causing you to laugh. “Does this mean you’ll go to the Christmas party with me tonight?” he asks, smiling brightly down at you. You scoff, pushing him away to look squarely up at him.

“Really Steve?” you ask, lifting a brow. You had told him ‘no’ weeks ago when he first invited you to the big party taking place at Bobby Mathers house. “Are you seriously using my apology as leverage to get me to go with you?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Steve laughs, holding his hands up.

“I would never do something like that.” he protests, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s just, everyone is going to be there.” he tells you, his smile no longer reaching his eyes. You know he’s been self conscious about going to parties like this since everything with Nancy and Jonathan happened. Especially when it became public knowledge in the small highschool. “Don’t make me go alone.” he begs, giving you his best puppy eyes.

Damn those brown eyes.

“Maybe.” you say. Steve’s grins ear to ear pumping his fist in the air in victory.

“Yes!” He cheers.

“I didn’t say ‘yes’, Steve!” you say, shaking your head, reluctantly smiling as he backs away from you still grinning brightly.

“I’ll pick you up at 8!” He calls, pointing at you before turning to jog down the hall. It’s less crowded now and you look around for Billy. He’s gone.

The rest of the day passes quickly, hardly anyone paying attention to the last class of the day. When the final bell rings you can hear the cheers erupt around you, everyone rushing from their seats to the parking lot. You take your time packing your bag, instead of heading to the library to meet Nancy you head back to Mr. Willson’s room. You can’t leave until you know, for better or worse.

When you reach his room, the door is open and you can see him seated at his desk, working through another stack of tests. You knock gently on his door, causing him to look up. He doesn't look surprised to see you standing there, setting down his pen as he watches you enter the room.

“I thought you would be back for this.” He says, picking up one of the exams set aside. You hear him sigh as he looks over the front of the test. “I can tell you put a lot of effort into this.” he says, rising from his chair. Your stomach twists at his words. He looks so serious. Fuck. You failed. You knew it. You failed and he feels bad for you. You hold your breath as he extends the test out to you. Taking it, you slowly turn it over.

Your heart stops.

“Keep up whatever you’ve been doing and you might actually pass my class.” he says, a small smile almost imperceptible on his face. You could scream. You can't believe what you’re seeing, but right there, next to your name, in green ink, is a big ‘B-’.

You fucking did it.

Your grin is so big it actually hurts your face.

“Thank you!” you exclaim, beaming up at him. You have to find Billy. Turning to leave you practically run for the door.

“Hey! I still need that!” Mr. Willson yells. You stop, quickly rushing back to hand him the test before hurrying out.

You’re absolutely buzzing with excitement. You rush through the halls, heading towards the gym. You feel the need to tell someone, anyone, about the test but there is one person in particular you want to share the news with. Reaching the gym you skid to a halt outside the double doors. Looking through the glass you see the basketball team scattered across the court getting warmed up for practice. You spot Billy’s curly blonde mullet almost instantly. You go to push through the doors but stop, seeing Steve stretching on the side of the court.

If you go in there now to talk to Billy, Steve will freak out and knowing the two of them it will likely end in a fight. Your eyes turn back to Billy, he bends a knee tying his sneakers. Seeming to feel your gaze, he glances up. He looks somewhat surprised to see you standing there, his brows pulling together in confusion a beat later.

You glance at Steve to make sure he hasn’t seen you at the doors before quickly gesturing for Billy to come outside. He nods once, confirming that he understands. He stands, saying something to one of his teammates before jogging across the gym towards you.

You duck out of view moving to stand next to the bathrooms where you and Billy normally meet in the mornings. A minute later Billy exits the gym doors, he glances around a moment before spotting you and heading over.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, looking you over, clearly confused by your presence. You’re practically bouncing with excitement, struggling to contain your smile.

“I went by Mr. Willsons to see my grade, and guess what?” You prompt, biting your lower lip, losing the fight to keep your grin hidden. Billy’s expression loosens, rolling his eyes.

“You finally caught him shedding his lizard skin?” Billy asks, a small smile ghosting over his lips. The excitement bubbles over and you laugh.

“I passed!” You exclaim, your smile overtaking your face, impossible to hold back. Billy’s smile grows as he watches you bounce on the balls of your feet, the energy inside you needing a way out. “I mean I got a B minus but still!” you elaborate.

“You say that like it’s a surprise, loca.” Billy says. “Not to be that guy but, I told you so.” He teases. You laugh again, shoving his shoulder lightly. He catches your hand as you pull back, holding it in his.

“One B minus doesn't mean you’re off the hook you nutjob.” He says. “You still have to pass the class and that means passing every other quiz and test before the end of the school year.” He reminds you. You nod, only letting that dampen your mood slightly. “There were a few things on this exam we didn’t get to cover, so tonight we’ll-” Your smile falters, causing him to stop short. “What?” He asks.

“I won’t be able to come over tonight.” you tell him. It’s subtle but you see his smile fade, though he hides his feelings well. “Steve is dragging me to this party and-” The sound of voices approaching the gym doors cuts you off. More specifically, the sound of Steve’s voice.

Without thinking you grip Billy’s hand and pull him into the bathroom to hide. You hear a group come through the gym doors a moment later. You look around for a place to hide hearing the conversation grow closer.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I don't know, he said he would be right back.”

“Check to see if he’s taking a piss.”

“I’ll go check the bathroom, you guys look around.”

You mentally curse yourself. Of course they were just coming to get Billy. Why did you drag him in here with you? You turn to tell Billy to go but he drags you forward, ushering you into a bathroom stall.

“Stand on the toilet seat.” He orders. You do as he says, stepping up onto the toilet, bracing your hands against the wall for support. Billy stands in front of you, his hands hovering near your waist in case you fall.

He doesn't look at you though. He keeps his gaze narrowed at the ground, his lips pressed into a firm line. The tension in his shoulders is obvious and from where you are positioned above him, you see the muscle in his jaw flutter as he clenches his teeth together.

He’s pissed.

Looking at this objectively, you see why. You’ve just made it clear that you don't want to be seen close to him. And it’s glaringly obvious that you are hiding your connection with Billy from Steve. Your face burns. He knows you're hiding him. You try to tell yourself it’s for the best but part of you still wants to apologize.

The bathroom door swings open, banging against the wall.

“Hargrove, are you in here?” you recognize Steve’s voice. You see the muscle in Billy’s jaw tick again before he responds.

“Fuck off Harrington!” He bites back. You hear Steve scoff, his sneakers squeaking as he walks further into the bathroom.

“Trust me, I wish I could. But coach has us running plays and apparently you need to be there.” Steve explains, the irritation in his tone clear. Your pulse quickens as Steve’s sneakers come into view under the stall door.

“Fuck.” Billy curses under his breath, shaking his head. You couldn’t have said it better yourself. When Billy doesn't respond after a moment, Steve only grows more irritated.

“I swear to god if you're taking a shit! Hurry up!” Steve yells, pounding his fist on the stall door. The sudden sound makes you jump, your foot slipping from where you’re perched on the toilet seat, sending you careening towards the floor. Your arms flail out, banging loudly against the stall, as you try to catch yourself.

Billy rushes forward, wrapping his arms around you to stop you from crashing to the floor. Your sudden weight threatens to take him down as well forcing him to pivot, pinning your body against the stall wall with his to keep you both upright. Your head collides with the metal, a pained sound escaping you, cut off by Billy's palm over your mouth. You inhale deeply through your nose, the throbbing in your head matching up with the pounding of your heart.

“Jesus christ, Do you have someone else in there?” Steve yells pounding on the door again. Billy’s eyes meet yours. You can barely breathe with how his body has you pressed into the wall. Your legs are loosely wrapped around his waist, keeping your feet off the floor. The hand that's not covering your mouth is wrapped around your waist helping hold you upright. Your hands automatically clutch Billy’s shoulders, and from this position you are eye level with him.

His eyes search yours for a moment then you see something click. He leans in, whispering in your ear, low enough that Steve can’t hear.

“Moan. Loud. Make it sound real.” He orders. Your eyes widen at the implication of his plan. You shake your head against his hand, your mind racing to come up with a different plan. You’ve never even kissed a boy! You don’t know how to moan like that, there is no way you can believably imitate-

Billy moves his hand from your mouth, sliding it over to gently cup the side of your face. You shake your head again, mouthing ‘I can’t, I don’t know how.” Hoping he understands.

He grits his teeth again, his eyes falling to your neck, you see his gaze darken. Before you can protest, Billy lowers his head, pressing his mouth to your throat.

You can’t help the gasp of surprise at the sudden sensation. His mouth is open as he kisses down your neck. Your grip tightens on his shoulders as his tongue presses over your thundering pulse.

This is so different from the small kisses you gave him last night. This feels so much more intense, his touch spreading fire over your skin making your breaths come in short gasps. It’s like he’s going to devour you, and you want him to. You tilt your head into the hand that holds the side of your face. You feel his fingers slide into your hair, pulling it slightly, earning another gasp

Your body feels like it's vibrating, heat pulsing through your veins. His body presses you harder into the wall, his arm tightening around your waist as if he could pull you closer than you already are. When his mouth moves lower Billy sinks his teeth gently into the sensitive flesh of your neck. It’s all too much. Then using his tongue and teeth he pulls a bit of skin into his mouth sucking on it hard enough that it stings but in a way that makes your brain go fuzzy. A moan erupts from deep within your chest, your hands flying to his hair, either to pull him away or keep him there, you’re not sure.

“Jesus christ.” you hear Steve grumble. You had almost forgotten what a precarious situation you’re in. To be fair, you can barely form a coherent thought as Billy finally pulls his lips off of you.

“You going to stick around and listen to the finale, Stevie boy?! I didn’t think you were into that!” Billy taunts, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Alright, whatever! Just… hurry up!” Steve says, finally taking a step away. You listen as he quickly exits the bathroom.

When he’s gone, the only sounds in the room are yours and Billy’s ragged breathing. His eyes search your face, his expression filled with something you can't quite place, but it stirs something deep in your gut.

What just happened?

His gaze flickers to your parted lips, the hand in your hair sliding down to hold the side of your neck. His tumb glides over the portion of your neck he had bitten into, you can feel him smear the remnants of his saliva as he moves over the spot, sending a shiver down your spine.

Then he blinks a few times, rapidly, like he's just waking up. He takes a step back, his hands moving to your waist to steady you as your feet lower back to the ground. You keep your hands on his shoulders, not trusting your legs to hold you up with how they currently feel like jello. The darkness in his eyes is gone, replaced by something eerily close to fear as he scans your face. You know that you must be blushing like crazy but that’s the least of your worries given the circumstances.

“That's all I could think of. Sex tends to make people uncomfortable enough to leave you the fuck alone, so I thought-” Billy explains.

“No, no. It was a good idea.” You say, finally finding your voice again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fake it, I’ve just never-” You stop yourself from saying more. You feel his hands flex slightly where they hold your waist.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his eyes still searching your face closely. You note how tense he seems, concern still clear in his eyes. You get the sickening sense that he’s getting ready for you to snap at him.

How could you possibly be upset? You did the same thing to him not 24 hours ago, and the only reason he had to do that was because you dragged him in here because you were worried about what Steve would think. If anyone should be upset, it’s him. All you can really think about is the way his mouth felt against you and his teeth-

“I’m… good.” You lie. Every instinct inside you is screaming at you to press him against the wall and find out what else his mouth can do. You shake your head, like that will clear the thoughts from filling your mind. You lower your hands from his shoulders, resting them on his forearms, his hands still on your waist.

His eyes bore into yours, still searching, still waiting. After a moment he must see what he needs because he nods.

“Alright, I’ll go out first and make sure your guard dog is gone, then wait 5 minutes to be sure the coast is clear before you come out.” He tells you. You only nod.

Then, like he has to force himself, Billy pulls his hands away from you, yours falling away from him as well. He turns to the door, opening it slightly and peering out to make sure it’s empty before quickly ducking out of the stall. Leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

What just happened?

AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this one! Let me know what you thought of it, it's kind of new for me to write intimacy like this so please let me know what you think! Leave a like or a comment and you'll hear form me soon!

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apollyonsdarksecrets · 6 months

Text

The Lead Up And The Follow Through

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five , Part Six, Part Seven

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

Warning: 18+ Only MDNI SMUT. Language, BDSM, Dom Aaron, emotionally detached reader, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive father figure, age gap (reader 25 Aaron 40) doesn’t line up with a specific time line, use of Y/n because story is set in 3rd person for the first half then switches POV, last name for reader is Smith,

Specific Chapter Warnings: more sugar daddy Aaron, collaring (squeeeee) Aaron being a tease, reader getting dressed up, Haley and Jack mentioned, mentions of eating, alcohol, spanking, fingering (f receiving), orgasm ( f receiving) crying, after care, Let me know if I missed anything!

AN: There is a lot to unpack in this chapter obviously! The story will have about one to two more parts, I seriously can’t thank y’all enough for the support and love thrown my way, y’all make a girl cry 😭💜

4 Years Ago.

She stares down at the book in her hand, after hours of studying she can barely keep the words from swimming around the pages. It’s late, or rather early, her final tests in the afternoon and she’s cramming whatever she can in. Her anxiety peaking with each tick of the clock on the wall.

The last few years have all worked up to this point, graduating with her masters in child psychology and becoming an FBI agent. Years she has spent isolated yet focused on her one goal, her one chance to become more than what everyone thought she could be.

Y/n rubs at her eyes, taking a steadying breath as she leans back into the wooden chair.

‘I can do this, I can do this, I can-.’

A shrill noise interrupts her thoughts, her entire body jolting in a brief moment of fear as the telephone on the night stand continues to ring. Her eyebrows come together in confused annoyance, wondering who could be calling her at such a ridiculous hour. Stretching out of her chair she’s able to grab the receiver, barely registering the wobble of her chair as she settles back in.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” A deep scratchy voice comes through, noises beyond the man’s voice making him a little muffled but utterly recognizable. Y/n feels her throat constrict, everything stopping around her, as her heart begins to pound. “Y/n, is dad. I need help. I’ve gotten myself in some trouble.”

She stairs ahead at the wall, unable to focus on whatever is being said as the blood rushes through her ears. Her hands begin to shake, the tremors going from light to violent in a matter of seconds as her father continues to ramble on.

“- I’m at the police station now, they aren’t letting me bail myself I just need you-.”

Y/n doesn’t remember standing, all she realizes is that she is slamming the receiver down with concerning force. Her chest rises and falls quickly, the room spinning around her as she stands rooted to her spot on the dingy hard wood floor of her cheap little apartment.

A million questions will bombard her later. How did he find her? Who tipped him off? When will he call again? But she can’t think of those things now, she can’t dwell on the unknown when the path of her future will be forged in just a few short hours.

Y/n forces her legs to move back to her desk, planting herself in her chair and picking up the book once more. The room doesn’t stop spinning.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Y/n taps her food against the polished floor, her lip worried between her teeth, her eyes darting to the door to the administrator’s office every few minutes. Not unlike the rest of the young adults in the hall along with her.

Some are playing it calmer than she is, then there are some who are practically in tears. A certain brunette is sitting across from Y/n with a wide smile plastered to her face.

“It’s okay, you know.” Melissa Pharway, the girl who peaked in high school and never grew out of her Queen-Bee phase, looks pointedly to Y/n, her shoulders back and her head held high. Y/n only glances her way, not bothering to entice Melissa on because she will do so herself. “Things like this are hard for people with your… background.”

Y/n’s jaw ticks, but she doesn’t respond. Only a few months into school had a rumor spread about where Y/n was from, then it had escalated into how Y/n was able to get into the schools, and things only got hectic from there.

She always thought things couldn’t get any worse after high school. Melissa has proven her wrong.

“It’s sweet, how hard you have tried, but as it’s been said before.” Melissa snorts at her own thoughts, crossing her long legs and leaning back against the cement brick wall. “Some people just aren’t mean to be here. And hey? If you fail? There’s always next year.”

“Y/n Smith?”

Y/n’s head jerks up, the admin, a very short round woman, stands by the door. Y/n stands, wiping her clammy hands down her pants legs before following the woman into her office. The name on the door reading, Suzan Mitchel.

Mrs. Mitchel takes a seat at her large desk, gesturing for Y/n to sit in one of the green wing backed chairs. Her office is decorated with nicknacks from the woman’s life, the walls a deep green and the hardwood floors stained nearly black. The room is honestly cozy, the walls lined with books, and photos.

“Now… You’ve had quite a go these past few years. Making near perfect scores in all of your classes, balancing training for the agency along with your doctoral degree in Psychology.”

Y/n nods her head, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes trained on the stacks of papers in front of her. Mrs. Mitchel adjusts the glasses resting on her nose before grabbing the first paper on the stack, her steely eye glancing up at the young woman in front of her.

“I’m pleased say it has payed off. You have made valedictorian.”

Y/n’s jaw drops, the first real sense of accomplishment rushing over her. She feels her eyes sting, and she forces herself to take slow breaths to control her emotions.

Mrs. Mitches laughs lightly, passing Y/n’s tests to her with a large smile. “It’s okay to celebrate dear. You deserve it.”

Y/n give her a stoic smile, her lower lip wobbling ever so slightly. “Thank you, ma’am, but the hard work is only just beginning.”

She thanks Mrs. Mitchel as she leaves the office, a confidence in her walk that she has never felt before as she passes the still smug smiling girl from earlier. A moment of bravado steals through her as she slows to a stop, leaning close to Melissa making the girls face scrunch in confusion. “There’s always next year.”

Melissa’s face falls completely, watching as Y/n straightens and marches off, her shoulders thrown back and chin lifted.

*~*~*~*~*~*

3 and 1/2 years ago

Derek Morgan scrubs at his face, staring at the screen in front of him with evident frustration. “I don’t get it.” His voice suddenly so loud beside Y/n makes her eyes flick up, but she says nothing as she continues to scan through her reports. “Strauss wants us doing all of this paper work for what? We never did any of this before.”

Y/n smiles slightly, leaning back in her chair as Prentiss chimes in. “What? Turned off by a little typing? Not enough action for ya?”

Morgan gives you a halfhearted glare, locking his hands behind his head as he mimics Y/n’s relaxed posture. “Now you know damn well I am a man of words.”

“And such big game.” The moment the words slip free of Y/n’s lips her face flushes a dark shade, Morgan’s mouth falling open as Prentiss cackles, slapping her hand over her mouth to muffle the noise. “I’m… I’m sorry that-.”

Before she can say anything else her cellphone rings and Morgan shakes his finger at her sheepish face. “Saved by the bell, girl.”

Y/n flips open her phone without glancing at the screen, pressing it to her ear. “Smith.”

“Y/n, oh thank God.”

Her eyes widen, Morgan’s easy smile falling as they lock eyes. Y/n quickly looks away but it’s too late, the man across from her has noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“I know you’re there look… I need you to listen to me, you dad needs a little help.” Dread drops hard in her stomach like a ball of lead, sending acid up her throat. Her skin is suddenly white as if she’d seen a ghost and Prentiss comes around the desk a the worry etched on Morgan’s face.

“Help?” Y/n’s voice doesn’t sound right to her own ears, distance and hallow.

“I need money, girl. I’m going to lose the house, you’re making it big now. I know you are, you can help your father after all the years I’ve spent helping you.”

Rage. Y/n feels her blood boil, her heart hammering in different parts of her body. She lowers her phone, holding it tight between her hands before snapping it at the hinges. Prentiss jumps slightly at the sudden action, Morgan’s eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

Y/n stands on surprisingly sturdy legs, dropping the remnants off her phone into the black waste basket beside her desk before rushing off, leaving her coworkers dumbfounded.

Present Day

You’re up well before Aaron calls you, folding your clothes into neat stacks, trying to decide what will fit into your go bag, and what you will have to carry in the bags from the store. The ringer goes off, a short simple melody playing repeatedly until you pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Good morning.” His voice sounds thick with sleep. “Would you like to go get some coffee with me?” The thought of caffeine after being up most of the night, bulling through what was left of your work, and going back to Aaron’s text more times than you would like to count; sounds like heaven to your tired body.

“Uh yeah, I could go for a pick me up.”

There’s shuffling on the other end. “Be there in 15.” The phone goes quiet with a soft beep and you glance at the stacks on your bed. Disrupting your organization, you quickly find a pair of black leggings and a long merlot colored sweater. You change from your night gown, throwing your hair into a messy bun right as his knuckles connect with your door. You snatch your phone and wallet from the table before shoving your sock clad feet into your boots and pulling the door open.

The sight of Aaron looking down at you as soon as you open the door is begging to feel too routine. You close your door firmly then square your shoulders with a deep breath as you turn to face him. “Morning.”

Aaron chuckles and reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Sounds like your reporting to a firing squad.” You don’t want to say he is wrong.

“I just… I didn’t get a lot of sleep.” Aaron’s raised eyebrow makes you cringe inwardly, realizing you should have used another excuse that wasn’t breaking one of your new rules.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Just… I’ve been doing a lot of work.” You turn away, fidgeting with your phone and Aaron gives you a small grunt of disapproval, your shoulders tightening. “I’m going to go ahead and assume that’s three?”

“You’re catching on.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Despite the shine of the sun peaking through the clouds it’s still miserably frigid. You both pile into the car as quickly as possible, the first few minutes spent in shivering silence as you wait for the heat to kick in.

Aaron begins pulling out of the parking spot, navigating the parking deck onto the street, his hand resting on the center console close to your thigh. “What was it like where you grew up?” His question snaps your attention away from his long fingers and you scold yourself mentally, turning your gaze to the grey dashboard.

“Pretty quiet I suppose. I’m from a small town in Mississippi, so there were a lot of woods, creeks, things of that sort. My street was pretty sparse, house wise… could shout to your neighbor if you really needed them.” The memories that came along with thinking of your rule little farming town were a mixture of good and bad. Good things being the long days playing in creek beds catching frogs, hiking a little to far into the woods when the leaves changed colors; winter time wondering if snow would fall.

All sunshine before the storm.

Aaron hums beside you. “My home was very suburban. White House’s with white fences.” You look over, he’s smiling faintly and you can’t help studying the sharp angles of his face, the lines around his lips and the crows feet by his eyes. “My brother and I use to get into a lot of trouble, the big city just a half our away, always had our mother on edge.”

“That sounds nice, I guess where I live now is pretty much the low end version of that. There is a back yard for Bruce though, and that’s what really matters in the end.” You say with a shrug, watching the streetlights change. A wave of people cross in front of the car, some on their phones, some talking to others, but most of them with their heads down just trying to get where they are going.

“So you’ve had him since he was a puppy?” Aaron throws on his turn signal as the light changes, pulling onto a busy street.

“I found him when he was maybe two months old. There’s this park I use to go to back home, he came running out of the bushes at me, he looked awful and there was no way I was leaving him as the weather was starting to get cold. Took him straight to the vet and he’s been my boy ever since.”

Aaron glances over at you, catching your eye with a smile. “I’ve never owned any animals, unless you count Jack’s goldfish.”

The thought of SSA Aaron Hotchner leaning over a small fishbowl, shaking a container of food has you smiling. “Depends… have you taught him any tricks?”

Aaron laughs, the noise filling up the space pulling your own chuckle from you as he navigates the street, pulling over as a cozy little coffee shop comes into view.

Inside the air is warm and smells heavily of coffee beans and syrups, there’s a small line and behind the bar are workers hurting to and fro with smiles. The menu is above the register, the different selections printed in colorful chalk making both you and Aaron squint to read it.

“What are you thinking?” He asks, placing his hand on your lower back to usher you forward as the line dwindles. “And don’t just say black coffee.” Your glare is met with a sideways smile.

“Um… well something hot.” You can feel his thumb rubbing slow circles through your sweater, and you wonder if he realizes he’s doing it. “Caramel mocha, extra caramel.”

Aaron grins, pressing in closer to your side. “Sound sweet, like you.”

You scoff loudly looking up into his brown eyes. “Sweet like me? That’s like saying your a bag of sunshine and kittens, doesn’t fit does it?”

Aaron’s grin turns devilish, he dips his head to your ear, warm breath scattering across your cheek as he whispers. “Who said I was talking about your attitude?”

Blood pools in your cheeks, your eyes widening as Aaron straightens and nudges you to the counter. He graciously orders for the both of you, your tongue tied and thoughts boiling, but by the time you both sit at a small table all you can manage is; “That was low.”

“Low? Honey that was just me telling the truth.” He smirks at your glare, enjoying the stain on your skin and the way you squirm in your seat.

You fidget with your hands under the table, eyes dipping away. “That wasn’t supposed to happen…”

“The part where you slapped me or the part where we kissed?”

You gape, leaning across the table to whisper vehemently. “We didn’t kiss, you kissed me. And I didn’t slap you on purpose it was just… instinct. You startled me.”

Aaron scoffs light, his gaze flicking to the pick up counter as a young woman calls out another name. “Glad you didn’t have your gun then.” Before you can snap back Aaron’s name is being called and he’s leaving the table. Letting you stew in your anger as he grabs your drinks. When he returns you look up at him, simmering.

“You’re a jerk.”

“I’ve been called much worse, come on let’s go.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Why are we at a shoe store?” Your annoyance leaks into your words as Aaron leads you a few stores down from the coffee shop.

“You need shoes for your dress.” He murmurs, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I have some nice heels at home that would go great with the dress, I don’t need anything else.” You protest, spinning to face him. The street is pretty empty given its a Thursday morning, and you don’t have to fear someone over hearing any potentially scandalous comments.

“Those are at home, you need shoes for dinner tonight… unless you plan on wearing those?” He gives your warn in boots a pointed look, your eyebrows curling in confusion and annoyance.

“When did we agree to go to dinner?”

“When I bought you that dress.”

“That was never brought up!” You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.

Aaron snags your elbow, leading you towards the doors. “Well it has been now. We are eating at 7.”

Silently you are screaming every foul name you know at him as the doors close behind you both. A happy voice greats you making your head swivel in the direction of the counters. “Good morning! How can I help you?” A young man, possibly a few year older than you leans on the counter with a toothy grin, his dark skin glowing under the fluorescent lights.

Aaron squeezes your elbow, encouraging you to speak. “I’m looking for a pair of heels is all.” The man’s smile doesn’t waver in the slightest as he stands up straight, beckoning you with a long arm.

“Right this way ma’am.”

“You go ahead, I need to run next door and pick something up for tonight.” Aaron turns away from you and you spin around, your hand resting on your hip as you point your coffee at him.

“First you surprise me with a dinner date and now you’re being secretive?”

Aaron throws you a wink over his shoulder as he leaves the store, the mental image of you hurling your drink at the back of his head leaving your hands trembling.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The store clerk, Donavan, was more than happy to show you the different types of heels he had in stock. He was sweet and genuine, if a little too talkative. You’re sure he wins over every customer that comes in with his charming attitude.

By the time Aaron has made it back you’ve settled on a pair of black strapped heels, nothing too over the top and you can wear them with anything. Aaron meets you at the register, wallet in one hand and a small white bag in the other. Your eyebrows raise.

You thank Donavan again as you both leave, stepping back out into the cold. You can’t take your eyes off of the white plastic bag, your curiosity to enticed. “What is it?”

“Hmm?” Aaron replies, pretending not to notice your obvious stare.

Rolling your eyes you drop your empty cup into a trash can as you walk by, moving the shoe bag to your free hand as you gesture to him. “The bag. What is it?” Aaron ignores you as he fishes for the keys in his oversized coat, your annoyance flaring. “Aaron?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know?” The cars alarm beeps once as he unlocks it, walking around to pull your door open.

“Satisfaction brought it back.” You finish pointedly, climbing into the passenger seat. Aaron grins down at you before dropping the bag into your lap. He shuts the door and you wait tensely until he’s in the driver seat to open the gift.

Inside is a large red velvet box, the kind only used for jewelry. Tentatively your fingers trace over the lid before you glance up to Aaron, he’s leaning casually against the center consul, but something is swimming in those dark irises. “Go ahead.”

You stuck in a breath and flip the lid, only to have the air stolen from your lungs entirely. A beautiful silver necklace lays atop white fabric, a circular pendant in the center, encrusted with black gems. Looking closer you can see the chain is weaved with black as well. Your finger traces the cool mental in awe.

“Aaron… this is…”

“I hoped you would like it.” His voice is warm and thick as he watches you pluck the necklace from the box and lay it out in your hand.

“I do… I mean it’s so pretty…” You didn’t own jewelry, not that you didn’t find things pretty, it just was never a for thought with the line or work you did. “Thank you.” You go for the clasp and your eyebrows draw up, an even smaller circle is at the back, a hexagon pressed in it and you turn it over. “How do I unclasp it?”

Aaron reaches over, taking it from you gently along with the box. “You’re welcome, you unclasp it with… this” He pulls out a small tool, and your confusion only grows at the sight of the Allen Wrench. “When most Doms and Subs get into a relationship, or a contract, the sub will usually wear something that signifies that, along with other things. Some wear bracelets or anklets. Some have more prominent pieces like leather collars. This though, is plain enough that no one will question it, but still hold that same significance.”

Aaron unscrews the small bolt, laying it in his large palm, his eyes swirling with something that makes every never in your body fire all at once. “You’re… collaring me?” The disbelief in your voice doesn’t waver him for a second, he simply nods. Your face scrunches up, ready to reject the idea.

“Think of it this way. It will help remind you that I am here for you, you have someone to lean on, to trust in, to go to when you need it. It’s just as much for you as it is for me.”

Your heart pounds in your ears, your attention hyper focused on the delicate chain as he holds it up, the metal catching the sunlight. You don’t say anything in response, you know you’re supposed to be compliant, this is what you’ve agreed to after all; but you can’t stop the feeling of your mouth going dry and your hands beginning to shake.

“So… you want me to wear this all the time?” He nods again, watching you closely. “But I mean… it’s delicate, what if it breaks? And-and everyone knows that I don’t wear jewelry, what if they start asking questions?”

Aaron suddenly squeezes your hand gently, the anxious look on your face pulling at his heart. “You can always lie, say it came from somewhere different, and as this relationship grows we will find things that are more appropriate… but for now, it would make me very happy to see you wear it.”

You mule it over, wagging a silent war in your head as you stare up at him. Slowly you turn away, tilting your head down to make it easier. Aaron slips the chain around your neck, goosebumps rising along your flesh as he fiddles with the lock. A moment later the pendant rests against the base of your throat, a little heavier than you expected.

“Let me see.” When you turn back you fight the urge to shy away from his stare, his eyes molten and turning with lust as his gaze travels from the necklace to your face. “It suits you.” Aaron whispers.

“Yeah well… You have good taste is all.” You mumble, fiddling with the bag in your hands, unsure of what you do with yourself. Warm fingertips press into the sides of your jaw, turning your gaze back to his. Aarons even closer now, practically leaning across the console, the tilt of his lips challenging and dangerous.

“Gonna be my good girl tonight and wear it for me? Give me the chance to show you off.” The drawl of his voice makes your breath hitch, arousal suddenly racing down your spine to settle between your hips. Aaron watches the way your eyes suddenly dilate, the inky blackness expending over the pretty color of your irises. You’re unable to explain the affect of those two simple words as your thoughts slow, your head becoming a little heavier in his palm, but Aaron does. “What do you say?” He prompts with amusement.

“Yes… I mean, no… wait-.” You mentally kick yourself, squeezing your eyes shut to block out your distraction as your gather your scattered thoughts. Aaron chuckles and you wonder if your skin feels as hot under his fingertips as you think it does. “I’ll… I’ll wear it.”

Aaron’s smile only widens, pulling you in across those few mere inches that separate you, pressing a chaff kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun has started to set outside the windows when Aaron knocks on your door. You’re already standing on the other side, have been for minutes, trying to gain the nerve to actually go through with this. A part of you wants to run and hide under the covers, but you reach for the doorknob anyways.

Aaron glances up from his watch, his eyes widening as he takes you in. You’re radiant, decadent, beautiful, bewitching. Ever name he could possibly think off wouldn’t even come close. Your hair is swept up, a few strands framing your face and showing off the necklace, the only piece of jewelry you have on. The dress is more beautiful now than in the store, the sunset from behind you casting you in a golden glow as you look up at him from beneath long lashes.

“Breathtaking.” His voice is deep and warm as he extends his hand for you. He’s wearing a fitted black suit with a white shirt, classic but striking on him, his raven hair brushed back but the stands at his hairline have slipped forward.

“Thank you.” You place your hand in his, letting him pull you into the hall, where anyone and everyone can now see you. The butterfly’s in your stomach haven’t stopped since you got dressed, and they are only getting worse now that you will be seen in public. Apart of you knows that there isn’t a soul in Boston who knows what is going on, but every time you have stepped out of your hotel you feel as though everyone is privy to your dirty little secret.

“Let’s go eat.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Like everywhere else Aaron has taken you the last few days, the restaurant he choose is upscale and beautiful. Deep red walls, with golden candelabras and sconces, white table clothes adorned with flickering candles and small vases of lovely flowers. The chairs are comfortable as Aaron helps you sit, your eyes roaming the room in amazement.

The restaurant isn’t crowded, having just opened its doors for the evening, but even then the tables are set far enough apart that there’s no fear of being over heard or disrupted. Aaron smiles as he watches the awe struck look on your face, your gaze fixated on the glass dome ceiling you’re seated under.

“This is… wow…” you laugh breathlessly, unable to find the right words to describe what you are seeing.

“It is… It’s one of my favorite restaurants, actually.” You finally pull your attention from the stars beginning to pepper the night sky, catching Aaron staring unabashedly.

You feel your skin heat under his gaze. “So you come here often then?”

“Any time I am in Boston.”

A man in a dashing suit suddenly appears at your side, a smile on his face and two large black menus in hand. “Good evening, sir and madam. Welcome to Deuxave, my name is James and I will be your server for this evening. May I get other of you started with a drink?”

Aaron gestures for you to go ahead. “Water, please, with lemon.” You smile up at the blond man who nods in return before turning to Aaron.

“I’ll have the same, and a bottle of Chardonnay, please.” James dips his head again, placing your menus down before swiftly turning on his heel. Aaron pauses for a moment, almost looking sheepish. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask if you liked wine.”

You laugh lightly, a noice Aaron savors. “Well, luckily for you, I do enjoy a good white wine. Mainly, though, I stick with water and teas.”

He grins, the flames from the small candle casting shadows across his face, deepening the rugged look he already has. “Good to know.”

A short pause follows as you both regard each other, both of you looking like you are ready to ask a million different questions, and you’re the first to break the ice. “So… how many… relationships have you been in like… this?”

Aaron opens his menu and you follow suit, trying to force down the knot of nerves in your chest. “Three, but I was much younger, and they were already into the lifestyle I was.”

You nod thoughtfully. “Is that… Is that how you meet Haley?” You purposefully keep your gaze glued to the menu, staring at the words but not comprehending anything they say. The knot only growing heavier with your bold questioning.

“No, actually when I meet Haley I completely erased that part of my life. She wasn’t comfortable or understanding of it.”

“Oh.” You dare a glance his way, his expression impassive as he stares at his own menu. “That must of been difficult then. Just getting rid of that part of yourself.”

“It was, but that’s what you do for people.” That you love.

You chew on your lip, needing to change the subject. “What made you decide that you wanted back into it? And why me?”

Aaron licks his lips, contemplating, and your gaze follows the movement. “Because of you. When I saw you that morning on the plane, I only knew you from your file and background records, but watching you squirm and fidget seated between two men when you were so much more lively alone with JJ… something drove me to figure it out. The longer I got to know you, I began to realize you were struggling. You hardly showed emotion but fought to include yourself in the conversation because you feel you have to. Cases with children hit you hard because you’ve had some form of child hood trauma you aren’t willing to unpack, making your soul focus be the case and you neglect yourself. The darkrooms, the hesitation to request something from someone that could be seen as inconvenient-.”

“Okay, okay.” You breath, waving your hands before dropping them into your lap, picking at your already too short nails. “I get it… I didn’t realize I was so easy to read.”

“You aren’t but it’s my job to look for the inobvious. Once I did that it just started to fall into place, I wanted to help you and I could only think of one way how.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your stomach tumble but before you can reply James has returned with your drinks in hand. Once everything is situated on the table he pulls out a little note pad and pen. “Have we looked over the menu or do we need some more time?”

“Oh um…”

“May I?” Aaron asks, and you look up surprised before nodding. “We will have one Spiced Long Island Duck Breast and one Cast Iron New York Strip, medium rare please.”

“Excellent choices.” Once James takes the menus Aaron gives you a sheepish smile.

“I figured we could share.” Your own smile creeps up and you nod. “So… may I ask you some questions now that you have asked a few?”

You knew this was going to happen eventually, but no matter how much you thought you prepared yourself you still feel your heart drop. “Well, it’s only fair.”

“What makes you afraid of the dark?”

‘Oof, okay right to it.’

“Well… it’s not a fear so much now… it’s just very suffocating.” You answer evasively, watching as Aaron pours you both a glass. You swirl the golden liquid before taking a sip, the flavor bursting across your tongue.

“How long has it made you uncomfortable then?”

“Since I was a child.” You shrug a shoulder. “I don’t let it impede on my job though, that’s all that matters.”

“Deflecting isn’t the way to deal with things, Y/n.” He chastises gently. “I won’t judge you, you should know this.”

You stare at the liquor in your hand, watching the low lighting bounce through the glass with the small twists and turns of your wrist. You can feel heat crawling up your neck, as a sickening feeling tears at your stomach, setting you on edge as memories wash over you.

“I was… I was locked into a very small dark space when I was a child…” You don’t need to look at Aaron to know his eyebrows have creased, his eyes squinting in concern. “Ever since then I just found it to be-.”

“Suffocating.” He finishes, his voice soft yet deep, your eyes refusing to meet his intense stare, but you can feel it on your skin. Assessing, calculating, piecing together more about you than you would like.

Before either of you can speak again, James is back, carrying to steaming plates along with his chipper attitude. “I hope you enjoy.”

The next hour is spent talking about much milder topics, picking off of each others plates, sharing old stories and genuinely getting to know one another. You find yourself smiling easier, listening to him talk about his home, his son, his life before the BAU. You share stories of school, the couple down the street that are like your adoptive grandparents, and the books you are currently reading. It’s nice and slow and easy, something you never expected.

“Do you want to get any dessert?”

“Oh, if I take another bite I’ll pop.” You sigh, setting down your third empty glass of wine, feeling the alcohol in your system.

Aaron smiles, standing from his chair with a slight groan. “I’ll be right back, then.” You watch Aaron as he leaves, your eyes again dipping down to his ass and you have to giggle a little at the inappropriate thoughts filling your head.

“Here you are, miss.” James is suddenly beside you, laying the bill book on the table.

“Oh thank you so much. Everything has been wonderful.” You give the man your best smile and he grins back before ducking away. Your eyes go to the little book, your curiosity getting the better of you. Pulling it to you you flip it open and your stomach plummets. ‘$155’ not including tip.

You feel panicky, despite the reassurance of Aaron telling you money isn’t an issue, all you can think about is how much he has spent already. On you none the less. You want to show him you can contribute too.

Mind made up you reach for your wallet, unzipping it to look for your card when suddenly someone is clearing their throat, making you jump in your seat.

Aaron is looking down at you, eyebrows pinched and feature’s suddenly stormy and you really feel your stomach drop out, unease curling in your guts. “What excuse would you like to give me this time?” The rough edge of his voice drags along your skin and you feel suddenly very small sitting below him.

“I… I wanted to repay you for… the clothes and…” Your fingers flutter to your necklace absently at the disappointed look he gives you.

“Up. We’ll pay and then talk about this in private.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aaron doesn’t speak on the way back to the hotel, though his face and body are relaxed his hands are white-knuckles on the steering wheel. You fidget in the passenger seat, brushing away loose strands of hair, or plucking at the necklace the longer the silence stretches on. By the time he pulls into the parking deck you feel like your on the verge of a conniption, the fun bubbly feeling of the night dissipated into cramping dread.

He still walks around to your door to help you out after the car has been parked, but as you start to speak he holds up his hand, silencing you. Regret swims through your belly as he leads you inside and to the elevators. He presses the button for the sixth floor, two above your own, your eyebrows creasing.

Lacing his fingers through your own, he pulls you down the hall, stopping in front of a door reading 112. “Aaron?” He doesn’t give you a reply, fishing for his keycard then pulling you inside when the light flickers from red to green with a little beep. You quickly scan the room, the layout the exact same as your own, as Aaron leaves you by the door, shrugging out of his suit coat.

“Are we- are we going to talk?” You can’t tune out the nerves rattling your voice, he glances at you briefly over his shoulder as he undoes his tie, pulling it over his head.

“We are.” He finally faces you once again, his expression hard to read. “We’re going to talk about what will be the appropriate punishment for how you have acted, thus far.”

You didn’t think it was possible for your muscles to tense any further, your heart picking up speed as the thought of running passes through your head. “But… I’m new to this. Doesn’t that allot for some leeway?” Aaron cocks a dark eyebrow, maybe a little stunned, or annoyed, by your bold suggestion.

“Leeway? Darling, I don’t think you understand.” He stalks forward and your fight or flight kicks in, irrationally you move farther into the room, avoiding his advance, your eyes never leaving his. “If I don’t hold up my end, then who’s to say you won’t continue to just break the rules? Act out? You have to be reminded that what you do effects not only yourself but the others around you.”

“Okay, I understand that I messed up, I just… I wanted to return the favor, I’m not use to this.” You gesture in the air between the two of you as you continue to circle away from him as he advances. Aaron’s expression doesn’t change, only setting you more on edge, a cold sweat building under your clothes. “I’ll listen better, I promise.”

Aaron chuckles, a deep dark sound that chills your bones and yet sends a twisted thrill down your spine. “Oh baby girl, that’s not how this works.” He moves closer and you back up, jumping when your back brushes the curtains to the window. “Come here and we will talk.” He cocks a finger in your direction, beckoning you, and you feel the air in your body stand still at the gleam in his eye.

“J-just talk?” You take one tentatively trusting step forward and it’s all the opportunity he needs. Aaron leans forward, snagging your wrist and pulls you between his thighs as he sits on the edge of the bed, steadying you as you wobble in your heels.

“As much as I would like to disagree, you aren’t wrong, being new to all of this does grant you a little leeway.” Then suddenly your view is flipped entirely, you’re no longer staring down at chocolate brown eyes speaker with gold, and hard set features. Instead your hips are pressed into his large thigh, your face smushed against the comforter. “So I will go easy on you.”

That’s when your struggle commences, the adrenaline in your veins kicking you into gear as you plant your hands and push against the bed, desperate in your attempt to get up. But Aaron’s hand is suddenly planted against the back of your neck, his free leg thrown over yours, caging you in and you feel the wild thump of your heart rocket into over time.

“Aaron, let me up!”

“I plan to, but you’re going to listen to me first.” His other hand smooths over the curve of your ass, paralyzing you as the foreign feeling washes over your fraying nerves. “Good girl, just calm down and listen to me.” His honey dipped voice combined with the simple nickname makes your thighs squeeze, your thoughts scatter, and Aaron doesn’t miss a second of it.

“O-okay.”

Aaron stays quiet for a moment longer, watching his own hand brush up and down the swell of your ass, need unfurling in his belly. “You’ve broken a few of your rules, and then there’s the matter of you slapping me.”

“I really didn’t mean to…” You whisper meekly, staring at the curtains across from you, trying to shift your head where he has you pinned at.

“Yes but you never apologized either.”

“Oh.”

“So I think you will find this fair. We will keep it simple, your first punishment is that I will choose your clothing for the next week, starting tomorrow. Deal?” Your face burns, much like the area between your legs is starting to. You squirm against his thigh before nodding your understanding. “I need to hear your voice, little one.”

“Y-yes.”

He squeezes your thigh in approval, resuming the slow stroke. “That will cover all of the minor mistakes you have made. As for the slap, and you trying to pay for dinner… I’m going to spank you.”

Your panic explodes in your chest, your fight returning with a vengeance only to have Aaron’s grip tighten, his leg pressing down heavier. You knew Aaron was strong, had witnessed it many times, but this felt inhumane as you squirm and kick what little you can. “Don’t you dare-.”

“Your safe word is red. Say it at any point and everything stops.”

“W-what?” You don’t have time to process what he said before a sharp slap is delivered to your ass. You yelp, your hand finding his knee and crushing his pants leg in your fist as you jolt with the shock of it.

“Aaron!”

Two more are delivered in quick succession, pain growing quickly as your skin stings and burns through your dress. “I don’t make these rules passively, they are for your benefit and mine. What I say goes.” Three more follow his reprimand, and you twist your face into the bedspread, whining loudly as tears collect behind your eyelids.

“Q-quit!” You gasp as he lands a particularly painful spank to your right cheek, the burn of it traveling up your spine making you feel ditzy, then back down again to pool in your panties. “It hurts!”

“That’s the point, baby.” You shake against him, squirming relentlessly only causing his fingers to travel into the hairs at the base of your skull, twisting there and pulling your head up, immobilizing you. “Keep fighting me and I’ll double it, do you understand me?” Three more follow and you can’t help but to cry out, the noise bouncing off the walls and you wonder briefly if there’s anyone who can hear you through them.

His threat breaks through the frenzied mess in your head, your body going slack and he eases his grip on your hair, letting your head rest against the comforter. “Shh, good girl. You’re doing good baby.” The praise in his sultry tone makes a moan well up in your throat, and your helpless to stop it. Aaron grins, his hand trailing down to your thigh, slipping into the slit of your dress, pulling the material up to pool around your waist.

“N-no, wait…” Your protest is weak, but you don’t move to cover yourself from his steady gaze, embarrassment settling in your belly as his hand glides over your bare skin. Aaron groans softly, watching your leg twitch slightly as he brushes his hand again over your tender skin.

Aaron lands another forceful smack to the cup of your ass, and you squeal. You press your hand against your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut as the warm feeling in your stomach slowly grows into a blaze. “Let me hear you sweetheart, you only have a few more to go.”

You shake your head, defiant and unyielding, but only until his palm connects with your skin once more. Your hand does a poor job of muddling your shrill cry, pressure forming in your throat and behind your eyes as the first tear finds its way through your closed eyelids, trailing down your cheek. Your thoughts are pulled into a thousand different directions, the pain tugging them one way, while the throbbing of your clit sends them the other. Your arousal is slick against the inside of your thighs, and you squirm at the feeling.

“Easy baby, you’re taking your punishment so well.” Two more follow and you sob into your palm, the noise unmistakably in the otherwise quiet room. “I know baby, just one more and we’re done.” Aaron’s own palm stings, but his gaze is fixated on the shape of his hand print forming on your once creamy cheeks, with each shudder and twitch of your hips he can feel his cock hardening to the point it’s almost painful.

His promise though does little to quell you anticipation, your body tensing to the point it hurts, fingers having lost their feeling minutes ago from your iron like grip on his pants. Aaron drags it out, brushing his knuckles along the back of your thigh, his fingers scratching softly at your neck where his grip has loosened; your struggle having died to nothing.

The last smack is the most painful, his arm having been drawn back, putting more of his weight into it and you nearly scream, his hand landing more on your thigh. Tears rush down your cheeks, trailing dark streaks of mascara and eyeliner, your embarrassment consuming you like a fire, because as much as it hurts, your body is humming with need.

Aaron makes a sound that is more akee to a growl, his fingertips brushing the growing pool of arousal on the soft skin of your thighs. “Oh baby… you’re absolutely soaked.”

You shake your head aggressively in denial. “No… no it’s not what you think… I’m not-.” Aaron only shushes you, fingers slipping further between your shaking thighs, trailing over your damp panties right along your slit. You gasp, the soft sound followed by a deeper moan, as the pad of his middle finger circles your clit.

“I told you some people like this, baby.” His voice is octaves deeper, your hips bucking at the sound as he continues drawing slow, tight circles over your bundle of nerves. “And you really like this, don’t you?” His question is left unanswered as he add another finger, your jaw falling open with another needy moan.

Aaron’s movements are steady and precise, never faltering as his thumb scrapes down the edge of your thong, easily moving it to the side. The new view has his mouth salivating, your pussy glistening with arousal in the low light, and as he presses the solo digit against your puffy lips you moan louder. Your hips rock back subconsciously, your hands flexing where your anchored to; and all Aaron can think is that he will do anything to hear those pretty sounds for the rest of his life.

“Oh fuck… Aaron…” You gasp as his thumb dips in and out, the pace of his fingers speeding up. It’s shameful, sinful even how quickly you feel your body coming to its peak just from his expert fingers. Quicker than you’ve ever gotten yourself off and under the mushy part of your thoughts that are too far gone you wonder how he knows your body so well.

“That’s it, take what you need baby.” His cock twitches in his slacks, your hip rubbing across him with each twitch and jolt of your thighs as you rock yourself against his hand. He can feel the clench of your cunt more frequently, your orgasm right there. “I want to see you cum for me, you can do that can’t you? Cum for me, baby.”

You physically feel yourself topple over the edge, you body going still with a whimpering cry as your orgasm floods you like a tidal wave. Aaron’s praising you from above but you’re too far gone to recognize what he’s saying as his fingers haven’t stopped, making you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible.

It’s only when you start to plead with him, your voice wispy and tired, does he ease off. He gently moves your panties back into place, before he leans over you, tugging your shoes off and letting them land to the floor with a soft thud. “Do you think you you can stand up?”

Your brain hasn’t caught up yet, your thoughts empty from your head, but you let Aaron guide you to your feet, your knees wobbling and he holds you still for as long as you need. He rubs your hip with one hand, the other resting on your waist as he looks up at you. Your eyes are red and glassy, your makeup ruined, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

Aaron takes you into the small restroom, letting you lean against the doorframe as you watch him absently. He wets a rag and adds a little soap before gently wiping away your makeup, one hand holding your chin as he works. You don’t say anything, there’s nothing you can conjure up so you both sit in silence, the only sound is the small sniffles you give.

He throws the rag into the sink when he’s done, pulling you off the wall and turning you around. He unzips the back of your dress, laying a kiss to the exposed skin of your shoulder before he steps out of the restroom, returning moments later with a big white t-shirt. He hands it to you, stepping out again to let you change in private. Your body goes through all the motions but your mind is left far behind as Aaron guides you out of the bathroom and to the bed.

Gingerly you climb in, not realizing how exhausted you truly are until you settle against the cool pillows, your eyes falling shut with a heavy sigh. Soon the other side of the bed dips, a warm body pressing against your back and an arm wrapping around your waist, securing you against him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I know this took absolutely forever please don’t crucify me 😂 thank you once again for all the love and support that has been shown for this series! Please if you’d like to be tagged you can comment below or message me directly 💜💜 much love and appreciation

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lilacmingi · 2 months

Text

POLYJUICE POTION

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Ravenclaw!Hongjoong x Ravenclaw!fem reader

Word count: 2,800

Note: These Hogwarts imagines are from my Wattpad from 2022, so keep in mind that there will not be any continuations or extra parts. Imagines for the other members will be posted in the following weeks!

"Man, I didn't study." San dropped his head onto the dining hall table with a soft thump.

"Again." Hongjoong added, causing the Slytherin to pout in response.

You chuckled, watching the two.

"You never study, San." Hongjoong pointed out.

"He's right." You added.

"I do sometimes." San argued.

"Not this time."

San frowned. "What am I gonna do? I have a herbology test in fifteen minutes and my grades are horrible."

"Cram, I guess." Hongjoong shrugged.

"You know, some people do better when they cram last minute." You supplied, trying to cheer your close friend up a little.

"I'm doomed either way." The Slytherin dropped his head in defeat.

"Don't be like that." Hongjoong told him.

"Hongjoong is right. If you think about it, a little studying is better than no studying at all."

"She has a point." Your fellow Ravenclaw agreed.

"Well, I'd love to stay here and see where this goes, but I have a transfiguration class to get to. Good luck, San."

"Yeah." He grumbled discouragingly.

"See you after potions, Hongjoong." You waved, walking off to class.

You were actually hoping to talk to San without Hongjoong around, but seeing as your poor Slytherin friend was in a predicament, and not alone, you chose to wait and chat later.

Once you left the dining hall, San continued to mope, muttering to himself about how he was going to totally fail.

"Wait. I got it!" San lifted his head, his eyes brightening as an idea popped into his mind. "You have a free period, right Hongjoong?"

"Yes."

"Could you do me a favor?"

"That depends."

"Can you use a Polyjuice potion and take my herbology test for me?"

Hongjoong's eyes widened at the absurd idea.

"You want me to pretend to be you?"

San nodded vigorously with hopeful eyes.

"No way." The Ravenclaw shook his head.

"Please?"

"No. Do you know how hard it'll be to get it done in time?"

"I have everything." He quickly supplied.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes in speculation.

San clasped his hands together, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout as he begged the older wizard. "Hongjoong, please. Just this once and I'll never ever ask again."

"What do I get in return?" He quirked a brow, his arms crossed expectantly over his chest.

"I'll buy you whatever you want from Honeydukes."

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want."

"Alright. Deal."

San and Hongjoong left the dining hall and made their way down the long corridors of the school, the younger Hogwarts student practically vibrating with excitement. He—Hongjoong was totally going to ace this test for him. He swears he'll study next time, promising himself to make an attempt to do better with his academic work.

"Just let me go into my dormitory and get the stuff. I'll be out before you can say Honeydukes."

Hongjoong hated how chipper San was about this situation. He just gets to hide out while Hongjoong does the dirty work. It hardly seems fair. At least he would be getting sweets out of this deal. Hongjoong smiled at the thought, practically tasting the Cauldron Cake and Fizzing Whizbees.

San returned with a small burlap bag clutched in his hand and a small cauldron hidden under his robes, gesturing for the two to make their way to the bathrooms. Maneuvering around the many students lingering in the hallway, San and Hongjoong snuck off to the boys restrooms to prepare the potion.

"You know once finals roll around you can't cheat, right? They charm the writing quills and parchment." Hongjoong mentioned as he dropped in a small cluster of knotgrass, watching it melt into the thick liquid inside the cauldron.

"I know, I know." San muttered, playing with a loose string on his robes.

The oldest stirred the substance that began to slowly bubble and thicken, tossing in the last few ingredients.

"Ugh. That smells awful." San commented as he pinched his nose.

"You're not the one that has to drink it." Hongjoong pointed out bitterly. "Now come here."

San moved closer to the Ravenclaw who grabbed a strand of his hair, yanking it from his head.

"Ouch!" He whimpered, rubbing his scalp.

"Payback." Hongjoong commented, dropping the wisp into the roiling substance.

Plucking one measly hair from San's head wasn't nearly the amount of payback he deserved for putting Hongjoong in this situation, but it was enough for the moment. Hongjoong would decide if his younger friend needed further punishment after this situation plays out. If all goes well, then all San lost was a strand of hair.

"You're doing me a huge favor." San told his friend, noticing the bitter expression etched on his face. "I promise I'll study more."

"You'd better." Muttered Hongjoong as he stared at the icky substance in the ladle, his stomach churning in response. "Remember, you owe me." He reminded the Slytherin.

"Of course." San nodded.

And with that, Hongjoong downed the mixture, cringing immediately at the taste. He then started coughing, feeling the potion take effect.

After a few agonizing moments, he stumbled over to the bathroom mirror to see if the concoction worked the way it was supposed to. Polyjuice potions can sometimes go awry if you don't pay attention to what you're putting in it.

"Heyyy, you look handsome." San grinned at Hongjoong's reflection, which now showed an exact replica of the dark-haired and dimpled wizard.

Hongjoong glared at San through the mirror, clearly unamused by his antics. His cheeky grin fell from his face. It was only then that he realized how much time was left for Hongjoong to get to class.

"You have to hurry. You've got less than five minutes." He shoved a small satchel into the Ravenclaw's chest. "Here's all my stuff."

"Yeah, yeah." Hongjoong waved San off, hurrying out of the bathroom.

The Ravenclaw disguised as a Slytherin grumbled to himself, suddenly regretting doing this "favor" for his friend.

It's completely foolish.

Why did he let himself be swayed by sweets?

Stepping into San's herbology class, Hongjoong moved towards a seat near the back of the room. This wasn't his first time using a Polyjuice potion. He had done so for practice in potions class a year prior, but he had never used it for real life circumstances such as this one. What if someone tried to talk to him? He would have to pretend to be San. What would San even say? Probably something stupid.

Please don't let anyone try and talk to me.

He wished you were there. You'd help calm him down and tell him everything would be okay. No. You would have turned the whole idea down in an instant. If San had brought up this half-baked idea moments earlier while you were still in the dining hall, you would have shut him down.

"No way is Hongjoong going to do that. San, you're my friend, but you've gotta tough this one out. Plus, it's just one test."

That's what he imagined you would say.

"Alright class, get your quills and parchment ready. The quiz is about to start."

Letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, Hongjoong retrieved the items from San's satchel and began the test.

An hour and a half later, class had ended, the rather stressed Ravenclaw feeling like he could breathe a sigh of relief. The test wasn't all that difficult. He was a year above San, so he remembered some of the material from when he had taken herbology his sixth year. At the very least, he got San a high B, which was probably much better than the forgetful Slytherin could have done.

Hongjoong stepped out of the classroom, planning to make a beeline for the bathrooms before the potion wore off. He zipped past students, weaving his way through the flurry of witches and wizards. When the sign for the boys' bathroom was in his line of sight, he picked up his pace, wanting to get there quickly. Until...

"San!"

You had just gotten out of your potions class that let out a little early for the day. Spotting a familiar head of dark hair hurrying down the hall, you called out to him, finally having found the opportunity to speak to San alone.

"There you are." You ran over to him.

"Hey, Y/n." He greeted with a smile, seeming a little off.

"How'd your test go?"

"I think I did alright." He responded.

"That's good to hear. Cramming works sometimes." You gave him a light slap on the back. "Listen, I really wanted to talk to you earlier, but Hongjoong was around so I couldn't. Do you have time?"

This caught his attention.

Something you couldn't say around him? Was there something you and San knew that he didn't?

"Of course. What is it?"

He could see you were a bit nervous, maybe even a little hesitant, but waited for you to speak.

"I'm finally gonna confess to him."

"San's" eyes widened upon hearing that as it clicked into place instantly.

"To Hongjoong?" He questioned, just to make things a bit clearer.

"Yes, to Hongjoong. Why do you seem so surprised? You know I've been crushing on him for two years."

"Two—" He paused, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather himself. "Y-Yeah. Of course."

Your face fell a bit in realization.

"Oh. You're not surprised... you think it's a bad idea. Don't you?"

"No!" He spoke up abruptly, being a bit louder than he intended. "I mean... I think you should go for it."

"Really?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

You chuckled. "You're a bit enthusiastic about it. It's almost like you know he'll say yes or something." Your expression was then replaced with horror. "You didn't say anything to him, did you?"

"No. I didn't. I just have a feeling that he probably feels the same as you. I'm a guy. We know these things about each other."

He cringed internally at that last part, but it seemed like something San would say, so he went with it.

"Ah." You nodded, taking in deep breath. "Okay. Well, if you see Hongjoong, could you tell him to meet me at the Marble Staircase Tower on the top floor, you know, the one that overlooks the Quad?"

"Yes! I'll be sure to tell him."

"Thank you. I'm so nervous."

"You'll do f—" Hongjoong had reached a hand out to place on you shoulder, pausing when he saw his polished pinkie.

The potion was beginning to wear off. He needed to get out of there fast.

Noticing the expression on "San's" face, you spoke up, asking if he was alright.

"I'm fine! Good luck with Hongjoong. I have to go."

You didn't have time to reply as San hurried off, bumping into people as he headed down the corridor.

"Choi San!" Hongjoong shouted, storming into the bathroom.

The wizard in question jumped in response to his name being called so loudly. Stepping out from a stall, he was met with Hongjoong, who seemed to have already returned to normal.

"Ah. You're done. How did it—" He couldn't even finish his sentence for Hongjoong blowing up.

"Y/n has had a crush on me for two years and you didn't say anything?" He exploded.

San's eyes became wide before he tilted his head in confusion.

"How did you know?"

"She stopped me in the hallway to tell me she was finally going to confess. She thought I was you."

San's mouth formed an O shape as he realized the cat had been let out of the bag.

"I can't believe you didn't say anything." Hongjoong went on.

"I promised her I wouldn't. How would you feel if someone told your crush you liked them and they didn't feel the same?"

"San, that's the issue. I like her."

The Slytherin's eyes widened in surprise.

"How was I supposed to know?"

Hongjoong sighed, realizing he had no reason to be upset. "You weren't, because I never said anything."

"Well, she said she was going to confess to you. Did she tell you anything else?" San asked.

"She wants me to meet her at the Marble Staircase Tower."

The Slytherin's jaw dropped.

"Then, what are you doing standing here? You have to go meet her." He rushed.

"But... what would I say?"

"Just act casual. Think about it as if you don't know why she wants to meet with you."

"But I do know why she wants to meet with me."

"Pretend you don't." With one, final shove, San pushed Hongjoong out of the bathroom. "Now, go get your girl, loverboy!"

"San!" He whisper yelled.

"Go! Go!"

Hongjoong sighed and started down the corridor, heading in the direction of the Marble Staircase Tower, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest.

By the time he arrived at the bottom of the tower steps, he was out of breath, but his determination overpowered his exhaustion as he continued on. He hurried up the stairs, sometimes skipping one in an attempt to reach the top faster.

The opening for the highest floor came into view and as Hongjoong reached the top, he spotted you waiting for him, fiddling anxiously with the sleeves of your robe. His heart fluttered nervously as he approached you.

"Y/n?"

You turned, your face lighting up at the sight of him. He wouldn't have noticed this had he not known your feelings for him.

"Hongjoong. You made it."

"Of course I did. What did you want to see me for?"

He could see the way your shoulders raised as you took in a deep breath in preparation for what you were about to say.

"There's something important I want to say to you before I chicken out." Your eyes met his, as if to get confirmation to continue.

"Yes. Anything. Tell me anything." He nodded, his round eyes watching you with anticipation, waiting to hear your confession fall from your pretty lips.

"Hongjoong, I've had a crush on you for two years. I know this is abrupt and you probably don't feel th—"

"I like you too." He cut you off.

"Wh-" You paused. "What?"

"I have a confession too. It wasn't San you talked to in the hallway."

Your expression dropped immediately.

"San asked me to take his test for him and I agreed."

"Polyjuice potion." You muttered under your breath as everything clicked into place.

"Right."

"So, I practically confessed to you right there." It was a question, but it came out as more of a statement.

Hongjoong nodded wordlessly, confirming your fears. But wait... he said he liked you too, did he not? You were too busy being surprised that Hongjoong used a Polyjuice potion to pose as San that you completely glossed over his confession.

"You said you liked me too?" You asked.

"I do. A lot."

He bravely took a step forward, his eyes briefly flicking down to your lips. The feeling of his palm brushing against your cheek as he cupped it made you realize what was about to happen, and you most certainly weren't against it. You watched with bated breath as Hongjoong inched closer to you, the space between your faces diminishing until you could feel his lips ghost against your own. You didn't wait for him to initiate the kiss, instead you leaned forward, being the one to close the sliver of space that was between your mouths.

Hongjoong's eyes fluttered closed at the contact, his hand that cupped your cheek moved to the back of your neck to pull you in closer, needing more of you.

Your body felt like it was on fire, as if someone had cast an incendio spell on you. Your fellow Ravenclaw was feeling very similar, his body rushing with warmth as he held your bodies flush against each other. Your fingers clung to the collar of his robe, tugging in an almost desperate manner as you pressed your mouth closer to his, a blissful sigh escaping you. It didn't take long for things to get heated, the both of you kissing each other with such ferocity that you wondered if anyone could hear you.

As much as he didn't want to, Hongjoong pulled away, both of you huffing breathlessly. You glanced up at him with half-lidded eyes, your brain still foggy from such an intense kiss.

"I hate to put a stop to this, but we've got a transfiguration class in seven minutes." He mentioned hoarsely.

You groaned in disappointment, dropping your head onto his shoulder. "I totally forgot."

"We can always continue in the Ravenclaw common room after classes are over."

You lifted your head at that and Hongjoong could see a glam in your eye that made him chuckle.

"We should go." He mentioned, smoothing your hair out. "Don't want to be late."

Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

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bedsyandco · 25 days

Note

Vi would absolutely be annoyed about Luke always being late

stop she would !!

“hughes. luke hughes,” the math supply calls out and violet side eyes the empty desk next to her. she closes her eyes and lets out an annoyed little sigh before raising her hand slightly

“he’s gonna be here, he’s just running a little late,” violet says, knowing how much of a hassle it’ll be for luke to go down to the office to change his attendance.

about 15 minutes later luke shuffles his way into class, sending one of his friends a grin before taking his seat next to her.

“tardiness isn’t sexy hughes,” violet whispers, continuing to write on her worksheet

“my apologies ms. monroe. it won’t happen again,” luke teases and violet sends him a deadpan look

she just hands him the sheet she took for him and he sends her a little grin.

“thanks V. you’re like my little guardian angel,” luke whispers, leaning close enough to steal her bottle of gum out of her bag, knowing she won’t mind, and he pops one in his mouth before putting it back.

violet ignores luke most of the class, not wanting to get in trouble with the supply but also not impressed that he was late. again.

he hurries after her in the hallway, catching up to her and pulling her to the side gently.

“c’mon are you really mad that I was late?” luke asks, adjusting his backpack and violet sighs

“I’m not mad I’m just-“

“don’t say disappointed,” luke pleads and she smiles slightly

“it’s not a good look for you. always being late. the teachers notice it,” violet says

“the teachers know my main focus is hockey. I’m not here to be an honour roll student, I just need to pass. and my grades are way above the passing mark. cut me some slack vi, I had a game last night. I’m exhausted,” luke says and violet notices the way he’s slightly hunched over, dark circles under his eyes.

“here you can take my notes. but don’t just copy it actually know what you’re doing. and don’t just stuff it in your bag cause it’s gonna get all rumpled up, put it in your binder,” violet says handing him the papers

“just come over after school. help me study math,” luke asks, a slight pout as he looks at her

“I can’t. I have a big history test wednesday and I need to study for it,” violet argues

“world history? what test is it? I had that class last semester,” luke responds

“world war one,”

“It’s your lucky day cause I know everything about world war one,” luke says wiggling his eyebrows at her and she shakes her head

“no lu, I’m serious. we’re not gonna study if I come over. we always end up getting distracted and talking for hours and then I have to cram for this test,” violet argues and luke frowns

“I promise we’ll study. pinky promise. please, my mom’s been asking me when you’re coming over again, it would make her day,” luke says, knowing he’s playing a little dirty by bringing his mom into it but if it gets her to spend more time with him, he’ll do it

“you’re evil,” violet says and luke smiles in victory

“text your parents that you’re coming home with me and I’ll have you home by eight. look at you, making me late for class. you’re a bad influence violet,” luke teases when the second bell rings and he flashes her a grin, dropping a kiss to her cheek before scurrying down the hallway.

#ᡣ𐭩 violet x luke

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semisgroupie · 1 year

Text

A LITTLE DISTRACTION

hanma shuji x fem. reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: college au, public sex, fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, unprotected sex, finger sucking, creampie, denied orgasm (once), dubcon, tears, reader is called “sweetheart”, threat of getting caught, he’s very condescending and a big tease

synopsis: your boyfriend thinks you’ve been studying too much

a/n: this is my first time venturing into the world of present tense writing, don’t judge

Finals are the worst time to be on campus, everyone is cramming for all their exams and staying at the library at ungodly hours since it worked as an optimal studying space.

Everyone inside is cramming for their finals except your boyfriend, who decided to join you for moral support. He just didn’t know how long this moral support had to go on for.

He is seated next to you, watching you as your eyes scan over the text of your notes before you pick up your pen and write down what’s important to remember in your study guide. He lifts his arm to check the time then sets it down, “you’ve been studying nonstop for the past three hours.” His observation falls on deaf ears as you continue your movements, he lets out a sigh and places his hand on top of yours, halting your movements for a brief second.

“Shuji, this exam will be 35% of my grade. I wasn’t lucky enough to be in classes like yours where the final was a presentation during the semester.” You lift your eyes from your notebook and look at him, deep pools of gold are calling you in but you can’t afford to let yourself drown in them, not yet. “If you want to go back to the apartment then you should go without me, I’ll meet you back there once I’m done.”

“Like hell, there’s no way I’d let you walk back to the apartment alone this late at night. I’m staying here with you for however long it takes, I was just saying that because you haven’t touched anything I bought you from the vending machines downstairs.” He points to the untouched snacks and water he bought when you first walked into the library. You frown at the sight of them then turn your attention back to him, “I’m not hungry.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose then reaches over to grab the granola bar, he opens the packaging and holds it to your mouth. “Take a bite. If you don’t, I won’t leave you alone and I’ll get us kicked out. I’ll scream really loudly.” You raise an eyebrow at his threat but you don’t want to take the chance to determine if he’ll follow through or not. You lean in and take a bite of it then pull back as you chew it and swallow. “Good girl, now I’ll leave you alone.”

As the time passes he busies himself with games on his phone, watching some episodes of a show he downloaded and stealing your snacks. As each minute passes he also takes note of how empty the floor of the library you’re in is getting. He watches the last person leave then looks over at you, still writing down little notes in your study guide. He leans in close to your ear and places his hand on your leg, “sweetheart, everyone has gone home or back to their dorms. Don’t you think you need to do the same? Your test isn’t happening until next week so you can finish the study guide tomorrow.”

You force yourself to ignore the warm feeling of his hand on your leg and shake your head. “I can’t, this exam has some repeated questions from our midterm so I have to go over all my notes, all over again. We’ll go home soon, I promise.” You offer him a small smile, hoping that it’s enough to distract him while you stretch your fingers and hands to relieve the ache that’s building in them. But it’s not enough. His eyes travel to your hands and he watches how you massage them.

“Your hands are cramping, you’re writing too much. You need to take a break from this and just give your hands a rest.” You open your mouth to protest, to try to give him whatever excuse you can conjure on the fly but he beats you to the punch. His hand that had so conveniently rested itself on your leg has now moved up your thigh and is now grazing your slit over your panties. “If you won’t take a break yourself, I’ll just have to force you myself.”

He pulls your dampening panties to the side and lets his fingers explore your slit, collecting the juices that gather along his slender digits. Your shaky hand grabs your pen and your mind tries to focus on the words on the pages of your notebook. His fingers slide up and down your glistening slit and you can faintly hear the wet noises his movements make. You try your hardest to focus but the task is becoming nearly impossible as he slips his fingers inside you. A shaky breath leaves your lips as you feel the slight stretch and as his fingers start moving, you both curse and thank yourself for wearing a skirt.

He leans in close as he starts pumping his fingers faster, “seems like you just needed this all along, sweetheart. Why would you deny yourself when I’m right here? You know I’ll help you whenever you need it.” He coos mockingly in your ear as his palm presses against your clit. You cover your mouth with one of your hands to keep your moans to a minimum and you finally turn away from your notes to look at him. You can finally allow yourself to drown in the golden pools that have been waiting for you.

You silently plead for him to continue, to let you cum as the feeling builds in the pit of your stomach. You feel slightly light-headed from how skilled his fingers are, the warmth spreads throughout your entire body as it waits for that release you’re craving. “Are you gonna cum for me? Oh I feel it sweetheart, poor thing you’re just so close, aren’t you?” You nod as best as you can at his words, you don’t trust your voice enough to actually vocalize your want and desire. He continues his movements, curling his fingers up to touch the sweet spot that makes your toes curl.

You can feel it, you can taste the orgasm on your tongue. You’re so close, like a runner that sees the finish line after a marathon. All you need to do is cross it, you’re right there. Just a few more steps and it’s gone? It’s gone, the sensation, the feeling of his fingers, it’s no longer there. Your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath you take and you look at your boyfriend with big pitiful eyes. A smirk dances along his lips before he brings his wet fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“What? Are you gonna cry for me just because of a denied orgasm? Look at the tattoo on my hand sweetheart, this is your punishment. But don’t worry, I’m not that mean, I’ll give you what you need, okay?” You have to blink away your tears before he starts teasing you about that some more and then you watch how he undoes his pants. His movements are swift and his cock quickly springs out, all hard and leaking precum. You lick your lips at the sight of it but your boyfriend has other plans.

His hands grip your hips and he pulls you onto his lap. He moves one hand from you to grip the base of his cock while the other guides you to sit down on his aching length. “There we go.” He groans as he watches you take his cock and once you’re seated on it completely you can’t help the moan of pleasure that leaves your lips. But it’s a little too loud for his liking. His left hand with sin tattooed on it goes up to your mouth and he pushes two of his fingers inside, pressing down against your tongue.

“I know you can’t help it but I need you to be quiet, I know you don’t want the librarian to see what a needy little slut you are, do you?” You shake your head and let out a muffled “no” in response.

“Good girl, now get to bouncing.” You lean forward and grip the table in front of you as you start bouncing. You have to force yourself to fight against your natural instinct of slamming down on him so you don’t end up making too much noise. His other hand flips your skirt up so he can watch his cock disappear inside you. “Fuck, I love when you ride me like this sweetheart, your ass looks even more perfect than usual. You just drive me insane.” His hand smooths over your ass while he presses down on your tongue more to muffle all your sounds that threaten to escape.

You feel the burn in your legs as you continue bouncing on his cock but it’s all worth it once you get what you need. You need to cum, you feel the sensation building again, your body is getting even hotter than the last time and you shut your eyes to savor it. His hand moves from your ass to grip your waist as he thrusts up into you. You’re pushed over the edge, diving headfirst into the sweet bliss of your orgasm. He pushes his fingers further into your mouth, making you gag on them so he could keep you quiet. He grits his teeth as he thrusts up a few more times until he reaches the precipice of his own orgasm. His cum fills you up as he pulls you back against him.

Both of your bodies twitch against each other as you both come down from the highs of your orgasms. Heavy breaths leave you both and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth. Once he feels you’ve relaxed around him enough, he pulls you off his cock and quickly covers your cum filled pussy with your panties. He helps you fix yourself up a bit before tucking his cock back into his pants.

“Now let’s put all these away and head back to the apartment. We’re not done yet.” Your eyes widen a bit at his words and you let out a breathy laugh. “You’re insatiable Shuji.”

He helps you gather your papers and leans down to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, “what I should be hearing is, ‘thank you for the distraction’.” You turn your head to face him and press your lips to his for a short moment before pulling away.

“Thank you for the distraction, Shuji.”

taglist: @litepowee @suyacho @satmitsuplanet @benkeibear @watyousayin

#hanma smut #hanma shuji smut #tr smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev smut #tw:exhibitionism #tw:unprotected sex #tw:creampie #tw:dubcon

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queenimmadolla · 2 years

Text

TO PIECES

(eddie munson x reader angst)

series masterlist

summary: . . . all you want to do after the school testing season is spend some time with your boyfriend. unfortunately for you, all he wants do is smash your heart to pieces, why else would he cheat on you?

warnings: infidelity, fluff and angst. so sad, very sad. no happy ending. good luck.

a/n: based on this request, cheese and crackers did it hurt to write. once more, everyone lives in hawkins bc i can’t stand them not doing that and of course, beta’d by the talented @kitmon (who also writes eddie stuff that everyone in the whole world should read). happy sad reading and sorry in advance.

You almost didn’t notice it, at first.

School testing season had just come to an end and you’d been thoroughly invested in it; spending every spare second you could cramming your brain full of information. You didn’t test all that well;whatever knowledge you had regarding a subject usually flew right out of your head the second a scantron was placed in front of you, so that meant you were forced to try twice as hard as people who could actually retain academic information like that, which also meant you couldn’t let your boyfriend drag you into janitors closets or meet up with him outside of school like you normally would.

Of course, you didn’t want Eddie to think you’d be avoiding him, so you had let him know in advance that you’d be focused on your studies until testing was over and while he hadn’t been pleased about not getting to spend time with you, he’d agreed to go along with it. The SATs had passed though, and you were eager to finally jump your boyfriend’s bones.

But you couldn’t.

It started with Robin, who always seemed to be around the minute the last school bell rang. Despite her last class having been on the other side of the school, for the past week she’d somehow managed to beat you to the doors leading to the parking lot. Her skin was always clammy with sweat, hair disheveled and breathing like she’d just run the mile. She always complained about being athletically challenged; specifically, being allergic to running in any way, shape, or form yet you were positive she was doing exactly that.

She’d force you to hang out with her for the rest of the day and despite how much you tried to get out of it (nothing against her, you just wanted to do a couple of other things. Eddie, to be specific. You wanted to do Eddie) she always ended up looping her arm through yours and dragging you in the direction of your car. You figured it was because she didn’t know how to drive, didn’t have a ride and was too afraid to just ask for one so she was doing it under the pretense of wanting to spend time with you.

Then, Steve started up. That was bizarre in and of itself. You didn’t really hang out with him one on one— didn’t want to give Eddie a reason to be jealous, he already hated Thad Schneider and that was only because the poor guy was in your math class and group so he had to communicate with you— so it surprised you when he started stopping by the movie theater after your shifts to ask you if you wanted to get food or head over to Family Video to help him keep Robin company during the remainder of her shift.

You’d been nice the first couple of times, didn’t want to blow him off considering he was still a friend but usually you drove over to Eddie’s trailer to hang out with him for the rest of the night. You figured your boyfriend would be upset at you for not showing up, but when he didn’t seem to mind all that much when you called to let him know Steve had asked to hang out, you thought he’d gotten over his jealousy. So, where was the harm?

When you thought you were FINALLY going to be able to see Eddie— outside of the kisses you stole in the school hallways that were becoming more brief with each passing day— Nancy had pulled you aside with some bogus story about how she wanted to do a piece on the Color Guard Team, of which you were one of the Captains.

You loved Nancy, but what the fuck could she write about a bunch of teenagers twirling flags and tossing batons, sabres, and riffles around? Sure, it was stupid cool to watch (and felt even more cool to actually be able to do) but who wanted to read about that? You sure didn’t. And why couldn’t she ask you this when you weren’t trying to get to the cafeteria so you could sit on your boyfriend’s lap and smother his face in kisses?

“Yeah, sure,” you mumbled, eyeing the door of the newsroom she was currently obstructing. “I’d be more than happy to answer your questions— hey, why don’t we do this a little later though? I’m starving, so I’m just gonna go grab a bite.”

You made a run for it and something inside of you flared up when you saw her move to step in front of you; she was purposely keeping you from something.

You were faster, easily able to dodge her as you yanked on the handle, pushing the door open.

Much to your annoyance, Robin and a guilty looking Jonathan were waiting on the other side. Robin looked filled with tension but was trying to appear nonchalant while Jonathan stared down at his shoes, almost slumped in on himself.

“Hey, you! We were just looking for you, you wanna go off campus for lunch? I’m thinking pizza and not the cardboard kind the cafeteria ladies serve. Talk about flat bread,” Robin rambled, moving to loop her arms through your’s like she always did and, just like you did Nancy, finally fed up with whatever was going on, you side stepped away.

“No, I’ll pass. I’m gonna go find Eddie.” You didn’t give her time to respond, taking off down the hall.

You could hear the sounds of hurried footsteps following behind you but you were focused on beating them to the cafeteria instead. It was becoming increasingly clear that they were trying to distract you from something and you didn’t like that one bit.

Dread began to pull in the pit of your stomach as you pushed the cafeteria doors open, glancing around fervently for a sign of Eddie. When your eyes fell on the Hellfire table, your shoulders slumped at the lack of the Metalhead.

The dread didn’t go away though, if anything, it worsened.

Nancy, Jonathan and Robin had caught up to you with Robin eagerly surveying the cafeteria before you. You watched as she appeared relieved when her eyes also fell on the Hellfire table before she began biting her lip.

“Well, he’s not here. Let’s go off campus now. I’m sure he’ll find you later.” There was something about the way she said the latter sentence, like she was unhappy with that even being a possibility.

“Yeah, I’m hungry, too. We’ve got like thirty minutes left, we can make it back in time if we leave now.” Nancy supplied, but you noticed the tension in her, too. She was stiff, mouth set into a forced smile.

You stayed silent, digging your nails into the palms of your hands as your fingers curled into fists at your sides. Steve, Nancy and Robin might be able to hide this from you, but you knew one person who simply didn’t have it in him to keep you in the dark.

Your eyes turned to Jonathan, he’d been quietly observing you with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. The look on his face spoke volumes.

Whatever it was they were trying to keep from you, it had to do with Eddie.

“Do you know where he’s at?” You asked, eyes tearing up for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. Anxiety weighed heavy on your chest but you were correct to assume he wouldn’t lie to you, Jonathan’s eyes flashed to the windows along the back wall and your eyes followed.

Outside.

You darted past them and made a run for the gym. Once you’d made it outside, you slowed to a speed walk, aware of them chasing after you but you couldn’t stop your feet from taking you to where you knew Eddie would be; the old picnic table behind the school.

You almost tripped several times, but you refused to slow your pace anymore, fearing they’d catch you and stop you before you could find Eddie.

Once you did find him though, you realized exactly why your friends had been trying to keep you from him.

Oh. You thought, the beating of your heart drumming loud in your ears as it broke.

Eddie was at the old picnic table, all right, Chrissy Cunningham sat on top of it as he stood between her legs, hands at the sides of her face as he kissed her.

At the sound of Robin shouting your name, they pulled apart, Eddie taking you in with something akin to horror written on his face.

Nancy, Robin and Jonathan stood a little ways behind you, waiting for your reaction.You didn’t know how to react, but your body seemed to make up your mind for you, the warm trail of tears could be felt cascading down your cheeks as your eyes stung with the promise of more.

Eddie’s head kept twisting from you to Chrissy and then he started backing away from her, looking immensely pained as he started towards you, hands held out like he was approaching some dangerous animal ready to attack.

You wanted to slap that pained look right off his fucking face. What gave him the right to look like he was the one who walked in on the person he thought he was gonna marry one day kissing someone else?

He called your name and you could hear the tears on the edge of his voice, the quiver in it.

“Don’t,” you warned as soon as he was alarmingly close. You began taking steps back, shaking your head in protest at the sight before you; the fucker was crying. You noticed the glossy layer over his eyes, the panic on his face. It disgusted you. He disgusted you.

Eddie made the mistake of trying to reach for you and that’s when you broke.

“Don’t you ever touch me again.”

You whirled around, walking briskly past your friends and towards the school parking lot. You could hear Nancy and Robin start to berate Eddie but you were much too focused on getting out of there instead of crumbling to the ground.

You bypassed the gym building, not sparing the wide open doors a second glance. Fuck school, you couldn’t deal with existing right then.

Your hands shook as you attempted to unlock your car, cursing when your clammy fingers fumbled with your keys, the suddenly daunting objects slipping from your grasp to the ground. Instead of picking them up, you dropped with them; slowly easing yourself to the ground as your mind began to race with time, somehow, also managing to still. Your world was coming to a screeching halt as your arms curled around your knees and you buried your face in them, paying no mind to the pebbles and dirt ingraining themselves into the bottom of your jeans.

You started hyperventilating, unable to breathe in enough air in-between your wracking sobs.

“Will you let me drive you home?” You gathered all of the strength you could muster to turn your head to the voice, red, wet eyes taking in Jonathan’s kind face and gentle voice as he crouched down beside you. For some reason, it made you cry harder and you found yourself nodding as he wrapped an arm around you to pull you to your feet and into his chest for a much needed hug.

You sobbed into his shirt, the reality of what you’d seen and your situation setting in. He held you tight, squeezing the shoulder his hand was gripping.

“I’m not going to say it’s going to be okay, that you’ll be okay, because we both know you won’t be. But, I promise, you’re not gonna go through this alone,” he mumbled, giving you one last comforting squeeze before he led you to his car.

Jonathan opened the passenger door for you and you climbed in with his guidance. He leant over you to pull the seatbelt across your chest and buckle you in. Nancy emerged from the woods, jogging over to the car as Jonathan closed the door. They were talking, but you didn’t care to listen, eyes unfocused as you stared out of the front windshield, face wet from continuous stream of tears that couldn’t seem to stop. You couldn’t even think, mind full of static. And your stomach hurt, you’d always heard heart break could make you sick to your stomach, but you’d never experienced it until then.

Eventually, you heard Jonathan get in and then the rock of the car as it started moving. You lifted your hands to wipe at your face, but all it did was smear the wetness around.

“Nancy’s gonna drive your car to your house, okay?”

You didn’t respond and he was silent as you cried, only reaching over to take one of your hands in his. He didn’t complain about your tear stained palm as he held it, trying to offer you some kind of grounding to the world because nothing felt real to you anymore, it was as if gravity had released you, no longer bounding you to the earth. There was nothing freeing about it, though. It was as if space was sucking you away into the abyss of the unknown; a blackhole, regardless of Jonathan’s hold on you.

When the car rolled to a stop, you were in front of your home and relief flooded you when you noticed your parents�� cars weren’t parked in the driveway. They wouldn’t see the mess you were and berate you with questions you couldn’t answer. They loved Eddie, what would you tell them?

Despite that, you couldn’t find it in you to even get out of the car, too absorbed in your pain to move. Jonathan ended up having to carry you inside, trudging towards your room and laying you on your bed where you curled into a ball and muffled your loud cries into a stuffed animal Eddie had given you. When you realized exactly what it was you had pressed against your face, you stopped crying long enough to sit up and yank it from its place, staring down at it with a mixture of emotions.

You bid your parents a hasty goodbye, door slamming shut as you yanked the knob behind you. Wincing, you shouted a quick apology that you were sure they’d heard before you ran across the lawn, towards the van parked alongside the street and nearly jumped into the already open door.

Eddie wasted no time, his body already twisted around to face you as he cupped the sides of your face, bringing you in for a kiss. You melted into it, eyelids fluttering shut as your lips moved in tandem with his. When his tongue rolled along yours you nearly went slack, just about moaning as you tasted the cherry slurpee he’d consumed at some point. You’d seen him last night, he’d snuck over, distracted you from the paper you were attempting to finish and then you spent a good fifteen minutes making out with him while he lurked on the other side of your window, body supported by the large and sturdy tree branch before he had to leave but here he was, kissing you like it’d been months since he’d last gotten the opportunity. Once he was satisfied, having been properly greeted, he pulled a hair’s breadth away.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you chirped, eyes glowing with affection for the diamond in the rough before you.

Eddie couldn’t resist going in for another kiss— not with the way you were looking at him— though it couldn’t even be called a proper kiss; you were smiling too hard and he laughed against your grin.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, forcing the grin away despite how happy you were, so you could smash your lips to his. Eddie rested a hand on the back of your head, using it to angle you so he could deepen the kiss.

You reached to grip the lapel of his jacket, desperate to keep him close. Eddie loved it when you did that. He wasn’t going a n y w h e r e, but it made him feel good, relieved to know you wanted him this close to you, wanted him to stay. He wanted you this close, too. Preferably forever.

You only parted when you felt eyes on you, head moving in the direction of your home just in time to see your father hastily move the curtains back into place.

You blushed, willing your body to cool itself as Eddie admired the dark tinge of your cheeks. The hand that had been on the back of your head moved to caress your cheek. He leaned forward to press a single, tender kiss to it, clearing his throat as he reached for the seatbelt to the side of the passenger door and pulled it across your chest, securing it in its buckle before he finally pulled himself off you.

You smirked, pleased with your ability to leave him equally flustered, if not more, judging by the bulge pressed against the zipper of his pants.

He ran his hands through his hair as he collected himself, a hand reaching forward to twist the key already in the ignition. You’d already gotten used to the roar of his engine, he sort of missed how it had caused you to jump the first couple of times you’d been in the van for actual driving purposes.

“Oh!” You watched as his eyes widened before he turned in his seat, nearly diving into the back of the van. When Eddie emerged, he had a stuffed animal in his grasp. Not just any animal; an adorable, cutesy looking beaver.

He held it out to you, trying not to seem like he was scrutinizing your reaction to his gift for future purposes, “Wayne sent me out to pick up a few things and I saw this— who would think to make a stuffed beaver, by the way— and it made me think of you, so I got it."

You were just touched that he’d gotten you anything at all, taken with the fact that he thought of you when you weren’t even with him as you admired the stuffy, turning it this way and that way in your hands before it was crushed to your chest as you hugged it,“Eddie, I love him!”

Then you processed exactly what he had said, “Wait— why did you think of me when you saw a beaver?”

He stared at you like the answer should have been obvious, “When we were watching Lady in the Tramp last week, and it got to the part where they met up with the beaver, you said that they mated for life.”

Once again, he nearly had you melting in your seat, “Are you saying you want to mate with me for life?”

Eddie turned shy, ducking his head to stare at you from under his lashes. “I wouldn’t be opposed. I mean— yeah. Yes. I would very much like to mate with you for life.”

“Then it looks like you’re saddled with me and Eddie Jr.”

You snorted at the brief look of shock on his face, holding up the stuffed animal when it looked like he was going to pass out, “The beaver, Eddie! I’m not pregnant.”

He ran a hand down his face, glaring playfully over at you, “You are gonna be the death of me, you better knock on wood when we get to the trailer or your dad is gonna skin me alive. How on earth did you come up with a name for it already, it’s been like two minutes!”

“Him, Eddie. God, he’s our child, don’t refer to him as an ‘it’.”

Eddie regarded you with a tender look, brown eyes warming you to the bone.“Our child, huh?"

“Mhm,” your head bobbed once as you secured Eddie Jr. under the lower half of your seatbelt. “A placeholder, if you will.”

“Oh, I will,” you laughed as Eddie buckled himself in, finally pulling the van away from the sidewalk and your dad’s spying eyes. “Since we’re mates for life, you can’t move on after I die. Just making sure you know. It’s the law.”

“There’s no moving on from you, Munson.”

Your fingers indented into the faux fur of the stuffed animal as you gripped it, grasp tightening in fury at the memory. Before, you’d affectionately referred to it as your shared son, now it was just a painful reminder of everything he’d thrown away, a reminder of how he’d thrown you away. So, you threw it away; chucking it as hard as you could at your farthest bedroom wall. Despite how soft and cuddly it’d been, it gave away to the wall with a dull thud, falling to rest against the carpet of your bedroom.

Your chest heaved with your breaths, teeth gritted as tears rushed past your waterline once more; this time, tears of anger mingled with those of your anguish and you collapsed back into your bed.

Jonathan sat faithfully beside you, saying nothing about your momentary fit as his hand rubbed along your back and you wanted to scream because it should have been Eddie offering you comfort.

The exhaustion of the day's events wore you down and you slipped into a restless slumber.

You weren’t safe from your emotions even as you slept; you dreamt of the last time you were with Eddie, the final carefree moment before it all went down the drain.

“Eat your own!” You laughed, trying to pry your dripping ice cream cone away from Eddie. That only made him try harder, hand winding around your wrist to pull both you and the cone closer to him.

“It’s not fair, yours always tastes better.” It was a poor excuse and you both knew it, he got the same exact flavor as you.

Despite your earlier statement, you let him drag you over, watching his tongue dart out to lick the mint ice cream. The eye contact Eddie held with you while doing so was surprisingly intense and what he was attempting to do finally dawned on you.

“Eddie, are you trying to seduce me?”

He licked his lips, teeth nipping playfully at your fingers as he kept you in his hold, “Is it working?”

A snort sounded from you and you both started laughing, though yours quickly turned into a squeal when the ice cream began to trickle down over your knuckles. Eddie made quick work of it, though, tongue skillfully gliding over your fingers to gather the sweet, runny liquid.

“Well, if you’re not gonna eat it, I might as well.”

Your nose wrinkled as you yanked your wrist and cone out of his grasp, tongue swiping over your ice cream to show him that you were in fact eating it.

“You will do no such thing. Keep your hands and that tongue to yourself.”

Eddie’s grin was downright sinister, he hadn’t even replied and your face was already growing hot at its implication.

“Didn’t hear you saying that last night.”

You hummed, pursing your lips as you feigned indifference.

“That’s on me. I set myself up for that one. I’ve been with you all this time, I should’ve known better.”

“You really should have but it’s okay, you’re gonna be with me forever so it’s bound to happen again,” he mumbled, dropping his own cone in favor of throwing himself at you; smacking wet, cold kisses against your cheek with exaggerated smooching sounds. You were helpless to do anything but hold your own ice cream safely out of the way as he gently gripped your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, smooshing your face while he planted kiss after kiss.

“Mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah…”

You awoke, when it was slightly darker outside, to the sound of yelling coming from outside your window. Jonathan was gone, too.

You sat up and climbed out of bed, peeking through your tear-swollen lids outside of your curtains.

Steve, Robin and Nancy were standing on the walkway leading to your front porch; the three of them facing down Eddie, who looked disheveled and desperate. While you couldn’t make out what was being said, it was clear they were keeping him out of your home and away from you.

Steve said something to Eddie and he ran a hand through his wild, curly hair, gripping at the roots of it in frustration as he screamed something back at him.

While your nap hadn’t provided you any relief, it had allowed your emotions to subside into a numbness. You turned away from your window and made your way out of your room, down the stairs, to slip past Jonathan who was watching the ordeal from the open doorway.

All eyes turned towards you when you emerged from your house, a mixture of relief and fear slipping over Eddie’s expression as he tried to move around Steve to reach you, croaking out your name through his dry throat.

You only had one thing to say to him, voice cold.

“Leave me alone.”

Eddie’s face crumpled further into something resembling despondence but he wasn’t quite done begging just yet.

“Please, baby, let me explain! I didn’t mean for it to happen! I can’t even figure out why I did it because I’m so fucking in love with you, I swear, I only want you. I am so, so sorry.”

It’s not what you wanted to hear. You began to shake your head, hands reaching up to cover your ears. You couldn’t listen to his excuses, his lies.

You’d never been in love before, until you met Eddie, but you knew you’d never in your life hurt him like he’d hurt you because you loved him. People don’t cheat on the people they love, they don’t break the people they love. And that’s exactly what Eddie had done to you. He’d crushed you, the first moment you weren’t available to him.

Still. There is one thing you needed to know, despite the amount of power it had to destroy you.

“Was that the first time?”

You wanted to throw up as soon as the words left your mouth, it made you sick that there was even a possibility of there being a second occurrence, in a hypothetical future— that would never exist— in which you took him back.

You saw the way his eyebrows pinched together, the way his lips parted and the regret in his eyes.

That was the only answer you needed.

You ran back into the house, only aware that he had tried to follow by the commotion you heard in your wake, Steve physically preventing him from doing so. That was all left behind when Jonathan closed the door behind you, jogging up the stairs after you.

He found you in the same position he had left you in earlier. This time, you were silent as the tears fell.

Despite her role in it, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to hate Chrissy. You two weren’t friends, but you weren’t enemies either. You came from two different social circles and simply lacked interactions, you doubted she was even aware of your relationship with Eddie. Or at least, you hoped that was the case.

As you lay there in your bed, allowing the heavy weight that was the end of your relationship to bury you further in your blankets— a soft, makeshift coffin to you at that point— you could only hate one person.

In that moment, you truly hoped you’d never see or hear from him ever again.

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rubywonu · 8 months

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𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿

summary: in which your boyfriend assured you and comforted you after having a rough day.

pairing: xu minghao x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, angst, fluff, comfort.

warnings: a LOT of anxiety, panic attacks, breakdowns, emotions are haywire, kisses, hugs, reader hurts herself.

w/c: 1.1k

nia’s notes: just a little fic on my current status except i dont have a hao. its probably rushed af. tagging some moots at the bottom, to help spread this fic.

you slammed the door shut as panic settled into your body. you removed your shoes and walked into the living room in search of your boyfriend. you just had written a test and it was needless to say it was not your best performance.

you had prepared for it a month before and you entered the exam hall with so much confidence. but you left the hall with tears on the brim of your eyes and a slow-settling panic attack.

on the couch rested your boyfriend. minghao was reading a book, his headphones strapped on his ears. he put his book down and hao's eyes glistened when he saw you. but that didn't last very long when he saw the lone tear gliding down your face.

immediately ditching his headphones and book, hao ran over to you. his hands grabbed your shoulder lightly and he pulled you into a hug while rubbing his hand over your back.

the comfort of being next to hao was your safe space when you cried your heart out. your eyes burned and your throat ached at the intensity of your breakdown.

and for a second you felt ok. but then you felt your heart drop. you asked yourself a question that lingered in your mind. did you deserve to cry? the answer, well you didn't have that.

your entire life you were set on high expectations to do amazing in your tests and you did. exam after exam you pumped out excellent grades like a robot, leaving no time for you to enjoy life. people praised you and you were the ideal daughter in the eyes of your parents.

but that all stopped when you started to live your life. you went out to parties with your friends and went on dates, where you met your boyfriend. that's when your grades dropped a little, although it didn't make a difference in your final grade, the way your parents saw you changed remarkably.

you were a disappointment in their eyes and the constant screaming made you believe every insult that was thrown at you. so you cut down on your enjoyment and went back to being a 3.9 gpa student. thankfully, you had hao by your side.

minghao reminded you to eat, he supported you through the times when you felt like a mistake. he stayed awake on the nights when you spent cramming. minghao was a ray of sunshine in your dark life, and you thanked the gods for that.

after a hectic month of staring into a book like a mad woman, you would've expected to do way better in the test than it turned out to be. the questions were hard and the time was insufficient, and the worst part was it was all your fault. at least that's what you told yourself.

you should've studied harder and practiced time management. you should have, no, you had to do better. otherwise, everything you worked hard for was useless.

minghao noticed your quiet behavior and pulled away from the hug, his knitted eyebrows screaming concern. "are you ok, my love?"

and for a minute, you just stared at the wall in front of you, you were numb. were you sad? were you disappointed? or angry? you just didn't know. it felt as if you had fallen into a void of nothing, and for the first time in your life, you couldn't breathe.

it started with your body shaking silently, as you felt another breakdown washing over you. then, it escalated to you clawing at your neck for some comfort. you needed air, you needed to breathe but just couldn't.

tears welled up in your eyes, you tried to speak but no sound exited your mouth. you sat there like a statue. you didn't move but your body and your mind were running a thousand miles an hour.

minghao seemed familiar with what was happening and immediately pulled your hands away from your neck, which was red. "breath. breathe for me." he helped you stabilize your breathing by rubbing your back and guiding you. "that's it, my love. you're doing amazing."

you got your breathing back but the void-like state didn't leave. but an emotion struck you and it struck hard. anger. you were angry at yourself for not trying hard enough.

you furiously wiped your tears and abruptly stood up. minghao followed your movement with curiosity. "why?" you asked yourself meekly. it was so small, your boyfriend almost didn't catch it.

"why what darling?" hao walked in front of you, his eyes held adoration and love when he looked at you.

"why didn't i try better? the exam was so easy. but i couldn't answer a single question." you grabbed your hair and shook your head violently. you started to hyperventilate. you sunk to the floor again, as your knees gave up and the strength at which you hit yourself became more aggressive.

minghao struggled to pry your hands off, he wasn't afraid of getting hit in the process. "yn. my love, you tried your best. you did everything you could. and i know you will do amazing the next test. don't beat yourself over this."

"no, hao, you don't understand. i can't dance or sing like the others do." your voice broke as you started to speak. "i can't cook or paint. i have no artistic or athletic talent, minghao. my grades are all i have. without them, who am i?" you confronted the real reason you tried so hard for your education, while all your friends were getting medals and trophies for competitions when you were younger, the only thing you had were your grades.

"you're the most wonderful person i've ever met. that's who you are." you felt a tear hit your shirt and realized it was minghao's. "you make me laugh in ways no one else had ever done before. when i see you, i become happy. i wish time slowed down when we are together because you make each minute special."

at this point, you were sobbing and for a whole other reason. "you make me a better person, and that is a major accomplishment. yn, you changed my life." minghao cupped your cheeks and made eye contact with you. "just because you can't sing or dance, doesn't mean you're nothing. it means there's something you're better at. and you know that."

you didn't notice it but you were smiling. you felt completed, you felt comforted. and for the first time that day, you felt okay. no words were exchanged further, but it was clear.

minghao loved you no matter your flaws, and you trusted him so much, that from that day onwards, you loved yourself no matter your flaws.

tagging: @kflixnet . @caratsland . @pixieskie . @xomingyu . @etherealyoungk . @fairyhaos . @kyeomyun . @wheeboo . @ylliris-hanniehae . @bangchansbae . @slytherinshua . @blue-jisungs .

#nia's writing!#nia's fics!#minghao scenarios #minghao fluff #minghao comfort #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #minghao imagines #minghao x reader #minghao x you #minghao drabbles #minghao seventeen #minghao au

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pastel-charm-14 · 2 months

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remembering what you learn

we've all been there—cramming for exams, memorizing facts and figures, only to forget it all as soon as the test is over. but fear not, because there are some tried-and-true strategies to help you actually retain what you learn.

engage actively: instead of passively reading or listening to lectures, actively engage with the material. take notes, ask questions, and participate in class discussions. the more actively you engage with the material, the more likely you are to remember it.

space out your studying: instead of cramming all your studying into one marathon session, spread it out over time. this allows for better retention and comprehension of the material. try to review your notes and study a little bit each day, rather than waiting until the last minute.

use multiple study methods: mix things up by using a variety of study methods, such as flashcards, practice problems, diagrams, and mnemonics. different study techniques activate different parts of your brain, making it easier to remember the material.

teach it to someone else: one of the best ways to really understand and retain material is to teach it to someone else. whether it's explaining a concept to a friend, tutoring a classmate, or even just talking through it with yourself, teaching forces you to think critically about the material and reinforces your understanding.

test yourself regularly: testing yourself is a highly effective way to reinforce learning and identify areas where you need to focus more attention. quiz yourself with flashcards, practice exams, or create your own test questions based on the material.

get enough sleep: sleep plays a crucial role in memory consolidation, so make sure you're getting enough rest each night. aim for 7-9 hours of sleep per night to help solidify what you've learned.

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sortagaysortahigh · 2 years

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Sex Education P.3 | Steve Harrington

a/n: yall posting this shit was the most annoying experience ever and tumblr and I have genuine beef, but its okay because hopefully she’ll post <3. Also I decided that this series is going to be 5 parts, and this is the longest part thus far because it’s the “turning point” in the series :)

Summary: No one ever assumes they’d develop feelings for their childhood best friend who also happened to be their friend with benefits, nor do they expect to end up jealous over mindless flirting.

Warnings: SMUT, cussing, spelling and grammar errors, talks about kinks, mentions of: bondage, handcuffs, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, and gagging, actual P in V unprotected smut, creampie, rough sex, spanking, fingering, oral (f receiving, m giving), spitting, hair pulling, back shots, missionary, jealous sex, degradation, praise kinks, choking, overstimulation, Dom!Steve, Sub!(ish)Reader

Word Count: 12k

Series Masterlist

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

(I just really like this gif honestly, like it gives bestfriend steve vibes)

Friday came faster than expected, and of course, something had to go wrong the day of Y/n’s big exam. She’d made it to the college early-leaving thirty minutes prior to when she usually left. The forty-five minute drive filled with her loud sing-a-long to Blondie’s The Hunter album as she sped down the highway. Then she got to school, parking outside of her academic building then rushing inside-hoping to get some kind of last minute cramming in as she found herself running up two flights of steps-anxiety fueling her swift steps.

By the time she’d sat in her usual classroom she was slightly out of breath, opting to sit in the front row to the left side of the room. Immediately going through her bag-then realizing that the flashcards Steve helped her make-flashcards which included important vocabulary, structures, authors, and anything else she found essential from the past half-semester-were still sitting at home on her nightstand-right next to a sleeping Steve Harrington.

The same Steve Harrington that had spent the past two days at her house, granted the two went to work together yesterday-then he found himself back at her house, helping her study until he decided that she deserved some ‘stress relief’ which in turn led to his head between her thighs for nearly two hours. Her thighs and calves were still store from the feeling of both curling her toes constantly and Steve holding her in place while she begged and whined for more.

She was currently in a state of panic, looking down at his watch that he insisted she take for good luck today-seeing that she had twenty minutes before the class started-then she rushed out, finding the nearest phone and dialing her home number-praying Steve would answer.

“Hello?” She tried to ignore the deep rasp in his voice-he was clearly still sleeping-but it still sent a small shiver down her spine. It’s been happening a lot lately, he’d say things or give her certain looks and they’d somehow make her heart race. But now wasn’t a time to focus on whatever that meant.

“Steve! I left the stupid flashcards there and I’m taking this test in-” she glanced down at the watch “-in seventeen minutes and I’m literally about to vomit because I was gonna try and cram before but now I don’t even know what I’m gonna do or if I’m gonna pass-this class literally determines if I have to extend or not because the class I’m taking next semester is only offered in the spring and this midterm is worth more of my grade than the final which is total bullshit but holy shit-”

As she rambled Steve sat up in her bed-phone in his right hand held up to his face while he ran a hand through his hair-the comforter now sinking past his bare chest to his waist.

“Y/n! Y/n!” the silence on the other end of the line caused him to let out a sigh of relief “you’re gonna do great okay? You know everything from this class-you need to stop doubting yourself. Cramming was never going to help you because it doesn’t ever work for you-it hasn’t worked since like freshman year of high school. You need to take a deep breath-” he paused for a second-his gaze now focused on her messy desk-alongside the few photos pinned to her corkboard above it-a small smile on his face when he spotted a photo strip of the two of them from the fair in tenth grade.

She took a deep breath, leaning against the wall next to the phone-a hand on her forehead-thumb and index finger massaging her temples while she stared at the ceiling.

“This is a big deal Steve-I can’t just relax-I’m like a ball of anxiety and nerves and-” he cut her off mid-sentence “-and nothing. It’s okay to be nervous about your exam but you can’t dwell on something like flashcards-you’ve been studying for this for like two weeks-you color coded all of your textbooks and notes Y/n-you know everything already-you’re overthinking it”

She groaned, and on the other end of the phone Steve smiled, shaking his head while rolling his eyes-she’d always done this. Everytime a big test was coming up she’d panic about it and rush to sit and study until there was nothing left-then she’d panic more until the day of the test when she usually aced it-occasionally getting a B-but even then she’d never failed.

That was something he admired about Y/n, she’d go through hell and back if it meant being successful-and her version of success was always her own. She never compared her successes to other people’s because as she always said ‘Steve success isn’t measured by other assholes-it’s measured by you. How the hell are you supposed to be your dad’s version of successful when you don’t even like your dad-you’ll never live up to whatever he wants you to be because that’s not what you wanna be’.

He found himself biting his bottom lip and smiling while she spoke to him.

“Okay-sure you’re right I might be overthinking it-but this shit is genuinely so stressful and what if my professor thinks my answers sound stupid? Then what? I can’t sit here and look stupid-God I’m gonna barf” he laughed at her, all the while she groaned again, staring down at his watch, seventeen minutes turned into ten and now she was biting her thumb nail-the leather band slightly slipping along her wrist.

“You won’t sound stupid, now go drink some water and kick your tests ass.” she sighed “if you say so Harrington” he nodded his head-the same dopey smile on his face “what time are you coming home?”

His words made her smile, both eyebrows raised and she was positive if she’d been anywhere but here-or even if she was sitting down-she’d be kicking her feet back and forth. She felt like a thirteen year old getting called pretty by a boy for the first time.

“Home? So now you live with me?” he scoffed, of course she couldn’t see the blush on his face-thankfully “I mean this is your house isn’t it-and considering your parents don’t get back til Monday-I’ll stick around. Besides it’s better than Casa Harrington-home of the assholes”

She smiled, nodding her head while twirling the metallic curly phone cable in her hand “Guess you aren't asshole after all. Anyways, my class ends in two hours-then I’m meeting with my advisor so like another half hour-plus the drive back home-basically three or four hours”

“You’re gonna crush your test, now hang up the phone Y/l/n” she scoffed, holding in a giggle-who the hell was she becoming. “Uh huh Harrington, I’ll see you when I get back” she bit her bottom lip “Drive safe baby, bye” with that the two hung up the phone. She couldn’t stop the heat enveloping her features at the pet name-of course she was used to it when they had sex-but outside of that-he’d never really casually called her that. But it made her heart race and she couldn’t stop her smile as she walked back to her classroom.

Steve however hung up the phone then groaned-two hands covering his face at the realization that he’d let the ‘baby’ slip out. Of course he started to overthink it the second he said it-mostly because she had no reaction to it-and of course it wasn’t like he could see her through the phone. Hopefully in the future they’d invent video calls or something for people.

He laid back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling decorated in small stars-the same stars he’d called childish the first time he’d gone over to her house when they were twelve. His parents had been late picking him up from swim practice-of course he said he’d just take the bus home or figure something out-but her mother insisted he came over and she’d call his parents for him.

By the time he got to their house he’d realized two things-Y/n’s mom was a lot cooler than he’d thought-granted she always showed up on time for practices, never missed a meet, and of course encouraged her daughter to speak her mind-which in turn led to a few altercations with other teams during the season. However she was genuinely nice to him and even as she drove-she still listened to him as he spoke-occasionally making eye contact through the rear view mirror and nodding her head.

The second thing he realized was that Y/n was really pretty-he’d never really gotten to see her sit in silence and just listen before that point-and as the golden hues from the sun outside hit her skin while she sat in the back seat with Steve-he found himself staring at her-the two holding eye contact while he spoke. He just assumed she’d always been confident in herself and a good listener based on the way she looked so relaxed and invested in his story-but even as a twelve year old she made him blush.

When they got to the house her mother called his mother’s office-leaving a message with their home address alongside the fact that Steve was there hanging out with Y/n and staying for dinner. She was quick to drag Steve down the hall to her room, forcing him to sit on her bed while she blow dried his hair-which she’d been wanting to do for some time-he even argued with her before she started. However, at the mention of Y/n’s mother making him dinner-he agreed.

Even at twelve he had great hair, his father always forcing the need to look presentable down his throat. She stood on her knees behind him-the bright pink blow drier in her right hand while she ran her left hand through his hair as she dried it-giggling at the way he protested. Then as she finished and turned off the blow dryer he laid back-purposefully pushing her backwards-nearly knocking her off the bed-which only made the both of them burst into laughter.

“Are you afraid of the dark? What's up with the baby stickers” she scoffed, sitting up and shoving him over while rolling her eyes “oh shut it poodle” with that she stood up, grabbing a compact off of her dresser-throwing it at him with a smirk on her face-which in turn led to his jaw dropping as he stared at his reflection-his hair overly voluminous and framing his head like a bad bowl cut.

The memory made Steve smile, eyes tracing each star formation-after she’d shoved him she eventually told him that she’d placed them in the shape of constellations-showing all of them to him before her mother called the two for dinner. That was the day he realized that he wanted to be her friend for a long time. She was caring, smart, she was honest-overly honest sometimes, she definitely had a nerdy side to her, her family genuinely cared for him, and she was the only person he knew he could be himself around.

After that day he started coming around more and more, her mother offering him rides home sometimes-the first time he slept over was during their eighth grade school year. The two had to do their science fair project together and once it hit nine o’clock her mother insisted he just spent the night-so he did. The both of them eventually fell asleep on the living room sofa after watching Star Trek-which Y/n had to explain to him.

He had no idea why he was reminiscing about their friendship-he also had no idea why calling her baby just felt right-granted when they had sex he knew she liked the pet names-a smile on her face while she bit her lip-the thought made his cock stir which only led to him groaning again. He’s her best friend, granted their relationship was starting to shift-he knew it was there and maybe she just didn’t notice it-or maybe she didn’t care-but there was something different now.

At first he summed it up to ‘well she’s seen my dick and I’ve fucked her so that must be it’ but the more he thought about it-the more he realized this wasn’t just about sex-actually it wasn’t about sex at all. She made his heart race in ways it hadn’t before-well ways it hadn’t in a long time.

He admittedly had a crush on her when they were in middle school, of course by freshman year he claimed it was gone-and then as he rose up the ranks in popularity because of sports-he dragged her along with him. Then by their junior year he was King Steve-he could get with any girl he wanted-so the crush on Y/n was long forgotten. She still argued with him in the hallways, constantly cursing him out and telling him to ‘humble yourself Harrington! High Schools not the real world jackass!.

She always stuck around though, she was there during his first genuine heartbreak-when Nancy Wheeler cheated on him after telling him she didn’t love him. He was at the Y/l/n household crying-which he would never tell anyone else about-and Y/n was holding him-rubbing circles into his back while making small sarcastic jokes and remarks to cheer him up.

Ironically that’s around the time that a very broken and bloody Steve later showed up at her doorstep surrounded by Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Max Mayfield, and Lucas Sinclair-kids she thought he was babysitting-and as she was patching Steve up they all explained everything.

Of course the girl didn’t believe them-even when Steve told her that it was all true she simply scoffed and mumbled something along the lines of ‘Hargrove really beat the shit out of you huh?’ However, when they all took her to meet El a few days later-the girl with supposed ‘super powers’ and after seeing Nancy’s tape-she quickly learned that they were all telling the truth. The entire drive back to her house she kept rambling to Steve and asking him questions even he couldn’t answer.

She always did that, the girl had little to no filter-so anything that came to mind would be said. If it was a question, a comment, a concern, a rude statement, or an obnoxious opinion-she’d let it be heard. A lot of people hated that about her-it was the reason she’d gotten into so many arguments with Carol Perkins, always telling the girl that she was ‘an airhead with Daddy’s money’ alongside comments like ‘don’t be upset because you didn’t make the cheer squad Carol, I’m sure you can shake your ass for some dumb jock and he’ll pay attention to you’.

Yeah, she was brutal. But he loved that about her.

Then it all dawned upon him-he had a thing for his best friend-of course it broke the final rule of their ‘contract’ but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. As he stared at her ceiling he decided he’d just ignore it, hoping that things would be fine between the two-and that she wouldn’t catch on.

He spent the next few hours getting ready to face her-hell he’d even cleaned her room and did her laundry-blushing as he fumbled her panties into the washer and dryer, then he all but moaned at the sight of her vibrator in the back of her panty drawer-a rosy blush overtaking his features while he stared at the baby blue bullet-then at the sound of a car pulling up and parking he slammed the drawer shut-fumbling to fold the rest of her clothes.

She whistled as she walked into the house, a triumphant smile on her face because not only did she complete her exam early-her professor spoke to her after she’d turned it in-stating that she had the highest grade in the class. Then she met with her advisor who said she was on track to graduate a semester early-and traffic on the way home wasn’t bad whatsoever.

He walked out of her room, standing in the hallway with a clean shirt thrown over his shoulder while he held her basket-once she glanced at him she couldn’t stop the laugh.

“You look so domestic Stevie-it’s adorable. You’re just missing your six kids” he scoffed at that, rolling his eyes while walking back into her room once he realized she was heading in that direction.

“For your information-I got bored” she nodded her head as she placed her backpack onto her desk chair-glancing around at the now neatly organized room-her bed was even made-Blueberry sat in the very front. “So you cleaned my room? And did my laundry? Are you pursuing a career in housekeeping?” He rolled his eyes at her, watching as she pulled out the notebook their ‘contract’ was written in-followed by her pink pen.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something serious though” he nodded his head slowly, taking her folded shirt off his shoulder-tossing it in the basket before placing it on the floor then sitting down. His eyes never left her as she kicked her shoes off then sat on the bed criss-crossed across from him. She then turned the pages to the back of their contract page, placing the notebook on one of her knees as she uncapped the pen-his gaze shifting to her bare legs-spotting the bite mark on her right inner thigh from last night-he tried to hold in a groan at the way her skirt rode up.

“You look nervous-loosen up Harrington it’s not like I’m breaking up with you” he scoffed, craning his neck back slightly “as if you’d ever want to break up with me” she glanced up at him, brows raised “aren’t you just a catch” then the two started laughing at one another, Y/n reaching over and shoving him lightly before focusing on the notebook.

He watched as she wrote out ‘Kinks’ then two categories titled ‘Y/n’ and ‘Steve’, he blinked a few times, clearing his throat while licking his lips, catching her attention again.

“Steve-if we’re actually gonna do the whole ‘trying new things out’ part of this then we have to talk about everything prior to y’know having sex” he nodded his head, scratching the back of his neck-visibly tensing up at her words. “Can you stop overthinking for five seconds Harrington! You look so stiff, relax”

“That’s easy for you to say-you’re you!” she scoffed “and what’s that supposed to mean Steve?” he shrugged “this doesn’t bother you-like you don’t have any reactions to us having sex-or like changes or anything” she placed the notebook to the side, getting on her knees and practically waddling towards steve before grabbing his face in both of her hands-his lips parted while he stared at her in awe.

“Just because I don’t act like weird or whatever because we have sex doesn’t mean I don’t have any reactions or whatever to it Steve-I clearly understand that our friendship is gonna slightly change because of the sex-you’re still my best friend jackass” she spoke slightly slower than usual, eyes widening just the smallest bit to emphasize her point while she held eye contact with him. “Now stop being a weirdo so we can talk about our kinks mister I wanna do anal”

He blinked a few times, shoving her back slightly-causing her to let out a small ‘yelp’ as she fell backwards-her body hitting the mattress and a series of loud laughs and giggles left her lips as her head slightly hung off the bed. She was thankful that she had a Queen sized bed-otherwise even at the diagonal angle she was in-she’d probably fallen off the bed.

He was blushing, his entire neck was on fire-and he was blushing the same way that Dustin used to blush when Y/n would talk to him-the boys crush on Y/n was almost adorable, but eventually he told Steve that he’d gotten over ‘his girl’-which of course had Steve questioning everything the younger boy was saying in the moment-however now when he thought about it he knew that Y/n was inevitably going to look like his girl to everyone who didn’t understand their friendship.

But he liked that, he wanted her to be his girl-but that wasn’t happening any time soon, so instead of sitting like a statue he moved-placing his hands on her knees which were nearly eye level with him-then he parted her legs-looking at her while she awkwardly strained her neck to look at him-a goofy smile still on her face.

“You’re a weirdo Harrington-now help me up” he nodded his head, grabbing her outstretched hands then pulling her upwards. After she got situated-scooching closer to Steve this time-she grabbed the notebook and her pen.

“So what exactly are your kinks?” she scoffed, glancing at him “uh uh-you can go first” he rolled his eyes, pursing his lips slightly “after I did all of this cleaning for you? I still have to spill my deepest secrets first?” she smacked his arm lightly “I already know your deepest darkest secrets-now tell me your kinks! Other than butt stuff-I already know that one” he rolled his eyes, stifling a laugh.

“Are you ever gonna get over that?” she shook her head “nope, I think it’s funny-as childish as that is” she now glanced at him, raising a brow expectantly “choking” she nodded, writing it down and in turn she wrote it down on her side too, earning a curious look from him.

“That’s good to know” she scoffed “shush-what’s next pretty boy?” he bit his lip “uh being complimented?” she rolled her eyes “it’s called a praise kink” he nodded slowly-watching as she wrote it on both sides-then she followed that with degradation before elbowing him-motioning for him to continue.

“Uh-well I er-I like to spit” she blinked a few times, brows knit together while glancing at him “elaborate” he bit his bottom lip for a second-feeling the familiar heat in his face “Like in girls mouths-and uh-on them” she slowly nodded her head, slightly confused but also intrigued “so like, you just do it? Is it like a heat of the moment thing? Or do you just-do it?” he shrugged.

“I guess it depends on the girl-you into that?” she shrugged “I dunno? Never really thought about it until now-I guess I’m always down to try something new?” he bit his bottom look-the two holding eye contact-his eyes flickering to her lips for a second before moving back up. Then he shifted his body slightly-to face her before bringing a hand to her cheek-gently caressing it before placing his thumb on her bottom lip-tugging at it.

“You wanna try it?” she felt heat rushing through her face-and she knew he’d be able to feel it radiating from her cheeks-his voice slightly dropped as his gaze was held on her lips. “Y-yeah” he smirked at her stuttering, moving his hand to her chin-tilting her head up slightly.

“Open up for me princess” the pet name sent a shiver down her spine as she obeyed him, parting her lips “tongue out-good girl” his praises went straight to her core-she was positive he knew exactly what he was doing-and truth be told-he did. He then leaned over her slightly-spitting in her mouth-and it was almost an instinct for him to lean closer-tongue against hers as he pulled her into a sloppy kiss.

As much as she wanted to keep kissing him she pulled away for air first-she knew she was blushing-the heat enveloping her face had her biting her lip and looking away from Steve-staring down at the notebook. He smirked at her reaction, moving back the smallest bit-still in her personal space as he watched her write it on the paper-on his side she simply wrote ‘spitting’, on her side she wrote it with a few question marks.

“You okay?” she shushed him “you know what you’re doing Harrington-quit it” he couldn’t hold in his laugh at her reaction “I just had to test a theory is all” she shushed him again, this time smacking his chest without looking up at him while she wrote ‘hair pulling’ on her side-and based on what she’d learned from their past experiences-it reflected on his too. She then followed her side with ‘overstimulation’

“So you’re into being fucked til you cry?” she choked slightly, her eyes widening and as she finished writing the ‘n’ she accidentally extended the ending of the letter. “Jesus Christ Steve” he nudged her slightly “oh c’mon you won’t even look at me? Really? Are you embarrassed again?” she scoffed.

“Shut up! Just tell me what to add to the list Harrington” he hummed, raising a brow “Finish your side first” the slight dominance in his tone made her eyes widened-and she finally looked at him-processing how close their faces were “Quit it Harrington” he bit his lip, tilting his head in faux confusion “quit what princess?” she clenched her jaw.

“You know what you’re doing!” he smiled “is it working” she shoved him back-pointing a singular finger at him while squinting her eyes slightly “we need to finish this you horndog!” he smirked, nodding his head “so it is working?” she scoffed “list first, then maybe if we have time we can fuck okay? Shit you’re such a perv!” he smiled “but you like it don’t you” she shushed him again-rolling her eyes while trying to hold in a smile.

“I was serious though, finish your side so I know what I’m working with” she scoffed “confident much? A little humility would benefit you” he nodded his head “you’ve been saying that for years at this point” she scoffed “maybe if you listened then I wouldn’t have to repeat it so often” he slowly nodded his head, a singular brow raised at that “eh-you’re right, now get to writing princess”

“Quit it!” she shoved him again “that one wasn’t even that sexual!” she scoffed, glancing at him “really? That sexual? You ass” he shrugged, pointing to the notebook with an expectant look on his face. She groaned, shifting away from him-trying to block his view-the entire time he moved behind her-glancing over her shoulders as she wrote ‘mirrors, rough sex (situational), breeding??, voyeurism, bondage??, spanking, edging??’.

“You have a breeding kink? That’s hot” her eyes widened at his question, heart practically beating out of her chest “shut up!” he laughed at her tensing up “You have to get comfortable saying things out loud y’know-that’s the whole point of us having sex” she groaned “that’s easy for you to say-you aren’t the one feeling like a whore writing this shit down” he laughed at her embarrassed tone.

“I mean-I’m gonna fuck you like a whore apparently-so it’s not far off?” she elbowed him “Steve!” he rolled his eyes “okay, okay I’ll cut it out” she nodded her head, before adding more things to the list-which only made Steve groan as he read them ‘gagging, crying??’ she shoved him back while she rushed to scribble the next one down ‘thighs’, although he still read it, his brows raised at that one-and he had to admit his cock was twitching in his pants.

“Finished?” she nodded her head, handing him the notebook-too embarrassed to actually face him. He quickly scribbled down ‘breeding, masterbating together, edging, blindfolds, handcuffs?? (sounds hot), biting, pussy eating’ he paused for a second “what’s voyeurism?” she groaned “when you like watching” his brows raised in surprise “learn something new about you every day Y/n” then he wrote it down on his side followed by ‘being in charge’, then ‘submissive shit’.

With that he handed her the notebook-watching as she read through the list, brows raising and eyes widening.

“So can we have sex now? Wait-first how was your exam” she placed the notebook on the bed between them-alongside her pen-her face now in her hands as she tried to calm herself down-she was both nervous and really turned on. He shifted on the bed, now sitting in front of her-gently grabbing her wrists and pulling them away from her face “you okay?” she nodded her head, avoiding eye contact.

“What’s wrong?” she scoffed “that’s my line Harrington” he nodded his head “I’m not the one nervous and stiff-y’know we don’t have to do it all at once-take it day by day-or week by week if you want” she bit her bottom lip, lightly gnawing on it “I’ve just never told anyone that stuff-y’know” he nodded slowly “not even Ryan?” she rolled her eyes “Ryan couldn’t even make me cum, and he was such an egocentric asshole-just cause he was decent at football”

“So you're just into sleeping with assholes then?” he wiggled his brows when she glanced at him, she was quick to roll her eyes-smiling at his words “are you implying you’re an asshole Steve?” he shrugged “seems that way sometimes” she laughed at him “you’re not an asshole-anymore at least” he smiled at that.

“Okay now, we can focus on this-” he grabbed the notebook and closed it “-later, tell me about your exam pretty girl” she rolled her eyes, her smile evident while he stood up from the bed-placing her notebook on her desk before making it back to his original spot on the bed-scooting back against her iron wire headboard-which had pillows in front of it-then he extended his arms out-waiting for her to slide into them.

She grabbed her stuffed animal, holding it as she moved back-leaning against Steve’s side.

“I’m pretty sure I passed it?, found out I have the highest grade in the class-which was kind of shocking because I’ve been struggling my ass off.”

She spent the next hour telling Steve everything about her exam, then about her conversation with her advisor and going into detail on her entire morning, all the while he nodded his head, listening to each and every word she said, free hand rubbing circles into her right thigh-which ended up being draped over his left leg.

Then her alarm clock went off at one-thirty, signaling that the both of them had to be at work in half an hour-which only made Y/n groan, rolling her eyes while Steve reached over and turned it off.

“I hate our job” he nodded his head “I mean-after we get off-we could always-y’know revisit the book” she bit her lip, glancing over at him “okay” with that he nodded his head-and without a second thought he leaned in-placing a gentle kiss to her lips-and when she kissed him back he felt like his heart was doing backflips in his chest-their moment cut short when she moved away, placing Blueberry down on the bed.

“Can you drive today Steve? I really hate driving on days I have class” he nodded his head “that’s uh-fine-yeah totally fine” she smiled, grabbing her tote bag from her desk chair-switchin her wallet and keys from her backpack into that bag-all the while he stared at her, eyes tracing along her figure-staring like a lovesick puppy.

Well that was until she put her vans back on, then turned to look at him, an expectant expression on her face “c’mon Harrington, shoes on-I wanna grab Robin something on the way since she’s been working the morning shift” he furrowed his brows “since when am I your taxi?” she shrugged “since you started eating my pussy on a regular basis” he choked on air at her comment-it was clear her confidence was back-but he hadn’t expected that one.

“Vulgar!” she scoffed “coming from you? You’re a literal perv, now hurry up!” he groaned, getting out of her bed. The two of them scrambled around the house for a few more minutes, then they were off. Y/n now sat in his passenger seat as she went through the different tapes in his glove compartment, raising a brow at the Madonna one while holding it up.

“Are you a material girl, Harrington?” he rolled his eyes “I got that for you y’know” she furrowed her brows, glancing at the tape-then back at him. “You always hum the songs on that album-and you always criticize what I play in the car-so I got that one to play when you’re here” she blinked a few times, trying to ignore the warm feeling in her chest while she popped it out of its case-then replaced the tape in his stereo with it.

He smiled when she played the tape, the upbeat tune of ‘Material Girl’ playing through the car while she looked out the window-based on her posture he knew she was trying to hide her smile-she always did that when people remember small things about her. It was practically the girl’s love language-granted he didn’t really understand the whole love language thing-but he knew nothing made her happier than that.

He was falling deeper and deeper into his ‘thing’ for her, and he just wanted to push it away but the more he thought about it-the worse it got. So he opted to simply ignore it.

Which he later found was a lot harder than he thought.

Several hours had passed since they’d gotten to work, the two worked until close at nine tonight-close used to mean ten-however after a lot of arguing with their manager-they’d gotten it to nine. It was now closer to seven thirty and the traffic within the store started to pick up, Y/n worked the register while Robin worked on helping people with recommendations and going to the back to find any extra copies of tapes, and Steve worked on reshelving and talking to customers around the store.

It was their usual system-dividing and conquering as they went.

However when one of her ex-boyfriend's friends walked through the front door Steve immediately stiffened up-eyeing him as he wandered through the new releases section-then the tall blonde made his way to the front desk where Y/n was currently on the phone.

He waited until she hung up, then from what Steve could see he started flirting with her-and he was laying it on thick-he was too irritated to even acknowledge the guy’s lame pick up lines and overused compliments-all he could focus on was the way Y/n laughed and smiled, rolling her eyes in a playful manner, twirling a piece of her blown out hair around her finger.

She had a wide smile on her face as she rolled her eyes-clearly falling for his shitty flirting. Then he leaned across the counter slightly, closer to her-now twirling one of his fingers around a strand of her hair-the motion lighting a fire of jealousy in Steve’s entire body-to the point that he was completely ignoring a woman asking him for his help-too focused on the way Y/n let that douchebag touch her.

He finally recognized him-Richard Miles-it made sense that his name was Richard, he was a real dickhead. Steve mumbled under his breath about standards while gripping the tape in his hand so hard that his knuckles were whitening-the sound of snapping and a hand being waved in his face finally breaking his trance.

“Uh sorry-ya how can I help you ma’am?” the older woman nodded her head, a tight lipped smile on her face as she glanced over towards Y/n-then back at Steve “I understand that young love can be complicated, but please focus on your job kid-can you help me find a copy of Back to the Future? My grandson has been asking about seeing it” he nodded his head, motioning for her to follow behind him.

Meanwhile Y/n was still giggling at Rich’s jokes, gently swatting his hand away from her hair before leaning back, her hands now on the edge of the counter.

“Sorry Rich-no can do-Robin’s off limits” he scoffed, raising both brows “seriously? I’ve been trying to ask her out forever-she just doesn’t notice. Y’know I have English with her? She doesn’t even acknowledge me half the time-and we sit right next to each other!” she laughed at that, rolling her eyes, shaking her head.

“I can’t help you Rich, the heart wants what it wants-but sometimes it’s just not in the cards” he knit his brows together, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “I’m gonna act like I got that card thing-but you really can’t help me-not even for the sake of old times?” she sighed, pursing her lips inward while shaking her head-she knew why Robin didn’t pay him any mind-and it was never her place to tell anyone that. When Robin wanted to let her truth be known-she would. For now Y/n would be a supportive friend.

“Not even for old times” he sighed, leaning over again-toying with her hair. He’d always been a flirt-that was just Rich, he was a natural flirt and it was simply a part of his personality. She didn’t mind it, the two were actually good friends prior to her messy breakup-then he had to let her know that for the sake of his spot on the team-he had to distance himself from her. At first she was angry that her ex managed to break her friendships apart, but she knew how much playing football actually meant to the blonde so she simply accepted the fate of her friendship.

However when Ryan went off to play football at some D3 school across the country she easily found her way back to her old social circles, when she wasn’t with Steve, Robin, and the kids-she was with them. No one ever really questioned it because she didn’t give them the chance to.

“Alright sweetheart-thanks for trying though” she nodded her head as he let go of her hair, offering a small smile-his gaze finding Robin as she walked around the store “you think if I go talk to her-she’ll listen” Y/n laughed at that, shaking her head “I don’t think so man-sorry” he nodded his head a few times, letting out a groan before handing her the copy of Risky Business

“Interesting choice” he shrugged “what can I say, my sister loves Tom Cruise” she laughed while scanning his membership card, then scanning the barcode of the movie with her hand scanner, typing a few things into the system. “That’ll be four-forty seven and it’s back in three days” he nodded his head, handing her a five dollar bill.

“Keep the change pretty girl” she scoffed, laughing at his terrible joke, however before Y/n could respond Steve was standing next to her behind the front desk, smacking a hand against the counter while grabbing his receipt and shoving it in his direction “have a great day Rich” the blonde slowly nodded while taking his receipt, walking away then turning back to wave at Y/n.

She glanced over at Steve-who was visibly annoyed “what the hell was that Harrington?” he clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath, now meeting her stare “nothing-just figured you could use a break from flirting with every guy within a ten foot radius” she blinked a few times, brows knit together-a wave of anger coursing through her entire body.

“Excuse me? What the fuck is your problem?” he rolled his eyes, nodding his head a few times “my problem? You-” before he could finish Robin cut them both off with a loud “Woah, woah, woah! Both of you calm down and go back to what you were doing! Argue later-we actually have to do our job today!” Y/n clenched her jaw-eyes slightly squinted as she stared at Steve-a look of pure anger on her face while he licked his lips, then offered Robin a tight lipped smile, his hands on his hips while he nodded his head again.

“Yeah-you heard that Y/l/n-we have a job to do so maybe don’t eye fuck any of our other customers” she scoffed “Are you serious? Fuck you Harrington” but before they could keep arguing Robin dragged Steve away-by his ear as if she was his mother. She smiled at some of the customers staring at the two while she dragged him to the far back corner near the Adult section partition.

She immediately smacked his arm “what is wrong with you?!” he rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders “nothing-nothings wrong” she raised both brows, staring expectantly at Steve “you’re joking right? You basically just called Y/n a whore? In the middle of our job?” he blinked a few times, finally unclenching his jaw and rolling his shoulders back.

“I didn’t call her a whore” Robin gave him a confused look “yes you did, you literally said she was eye fucking every male within a ten foot radius-your words not mine” she glanced back over at Y/n, who now forced a smile, but Robin easily noticed the way she angrily typed-fingers practically bashing into the keys-then she basically slammed the scanner down onto the counter while smacking the register shut.

“Yeah-she’s pissed.” he looked over at her, now feeling a pang of guilt in his chest-he didn’t know where that came from-he was angry at her-or maybe at Rich-he didn’t really know.

“I just-I dunno” Robin scoffed “you got jealous didn’t you! Oh my god I knew it!” he knit his brows together, glancing back at Robin “knew what?” she rolled her eyes “you have a thing for her! I knew people couldn’t just have sex and not be into each other” he shushed her, blinking rapidly-tilting his head slightly before glancing at the customers around the store. “I don’t have a thing for her”

Robin slowly nodded her head “so why’d you get jealous when Rich was flirting with her-by the way he flirts with everyone-that’s literally just how he acts. He flirts with our English teacher-and she’s like fifty Steve!” he blinked a few times, a dumbfounded look on his face as he opened and closed his lips a few times trying to figure out something to say-he couldn’t just outwardly admit that Robin was right-and he also felt bad for calling Y/n a whore-granted he’d definitely call her a whore in a different context.

“Are you gonna tell her?” he scoffed “Tell her what Rob? I-I don’t have a thing for her-she’s my friend okay-I just-I dunno” Robin slowly nodded, her brows still raised “well-whatever that was-figure your shit out because we have a job to do and I just wanna go home soon” he nodded his head.

For the next two hours Y/n ignored Steve-and even as the three of them were finishing closing she completely ignored him, walking right past him-taking the extra step away from him so their shoulders didn’t brush, taking the register key from his hands without even looking in his direction, organizing the desk while whistling to drown out the sounds of his forced apologies, and once Steve mumbled something about dropping Robin off she simply nodded her head.

She’d gone as far as to sit in the backseat-shimmying away from his line of vision, only saying bye to Robin and blowing her a kiss before staying seated in his back seat. He tried to convince her to move to the front-however she simply stared out of the window-an emotionless expression on her face which remained the same as he drove towards her house.

Once he parked the car she was quick to get out-slamming the door as hard as possible.

“Seriously y/n!” She flipped him off while she walked to her front door-pulling her keys out of her bag and unlocking it-she was planning on slamming the door in Steve’s face-however he managed to hold it open from behind her-following her inside despite her silent protest.

It was clear that she was still pissed.

“Can you at least let me apologize?” she scoffed, walking down the hallway and into her bedroom, kicking off her shoes and placing her bag on her desk before turning to face him. “Apologize? For which part? Being a total asshole to Rich for no fucking reason? Calling me a whore? Or maybe arguing with me at our fucking job? Hmm how about accusing me of eye fucking random fucking people?”

He blinked a few times-trying to ignore the way her irritation was turning him on, she spoke with an almost venomous tone-she hadn’t been this angry with him since their junior year homecoming-but good God was it doing things to him. He licked his lips while nodding his head.

“Maybe if you’d let me explain” she scoffed “explain what? Your bullshit fit of jealousy because oh wow I’m gonna go fuck any guy that pays any attention to me? What do you think I’m just fucking easy?” He tried to stay calm, but as she walked closer to him-her voice getting louder-he found it harder to keep himself calm and collected. He clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath.

“What the fuck do you even have to be jealous of? And don’t even try to lie to me Steve-I know you like the back of my fucking hand! You’re acting like I’m some precious little ‘off limits’ doll-you fucking asshole!” he scoffed, mumbling “you are off limits”-which only made her tilt her head, fists clenched at her sides as she stopped in her tracks-only a few steps away from him now.

“Excuse me?” he nodded his head “last time I checked, you’re not supposed to be fucking other people in the first place Princess” he walked right past her-grabbing the notebook off her desk-flipping it open “Huh-wow even wrote it yourself-what a smart girl you are” his sarcasm was pissing her off even more.

“I never even said I was gonna fuck him, you just assume that I whore myself out to anyone and everyone-huh maybe that’s why I even agreed to fuck you in the first place! How about I just call this off and go fuck Rich and everyone else in Hawkins over the age of eighteen” that caught his attention-now staring at her-the pit of jealousy ignited again.

“Since I’m such a fucking easy whore, maybe I’ll start with all of my exes team mates-let them pass me around for fun!” Her sarcasm was actually irritating him now, and truth be told, the thought of her with anyone but him set off a fire in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. She shook her head, rolling her eyes at his silence.

“Get the fuck out Steve” he licked his lips at her words “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” she scoffed “excuse me?” he nodded his head, “I said, do-you-ever-shut-the-fuck-up” he paused between each word, the evident shift in his tone brought heat to her cheeks-but she ignored it-she was mad at him and she had to remember that as she stood her ground.

“You’re such a fucking asshole Steve!” he bit his lip, nodding his head twice “yeah? I’m the asshole-course I am pretty girl-or would you like it better if Rich called you that-maybe I should just keep calling you a whore-I know how much you like that” his dominant tone was evident while he stared at her-glancing down at the notebook in his hands before flipping a page-looking at the list they’d made earlier for a few seconds before meeting her stare again.

“Maybe I should fuck you like a whore-maybe then you’d shut the fuck up” she swallowed, trying to ignore the heat traveling through her body, forcing a scoff “your ego isn’t helping the situation Harrington” he licked his lips again-a smirk on his face at the way her thighs slightly clenched together-the black miniskirt she wore did nothing to hide that. His eyes slowly trailed her figure-and she was trying her best not to buckle under pressure-she was mad at him-she needed to remember that she was mad at him.

He took a few steps towards her until they were inches apart, the same smirk on his face “you can’t even hide it can you” he tried to place a hand on her cheek-but she immediately smacked it away while rolling her eyes “you can’t fuck your way out of everything Steve” he nodded his head “you’re right, but I can fuck you so good you stop entertaining every asshole that looks your way” his confidence sent shivers down her spine while he held eye contact with her.

“Why can’t you just admit that you’re a jealous asshole” he nodded his head “yea would that make my girl happy? If I said watching that blonde dickhead flirt you-and touch you-made me jealous? That I don’t like people touching what’s not theirs” her face was on fire at this point-and as he placed his hand on her jaw-she let him-her heart practically beating out of it’s chest-her anger slowly fading into need.

“If it’s too much-I want you to say peaches-cause they’re your favorite, isn’t that right princess” she nodded her head, lips parted as she stared at him-slowly forgetting why she was angry in the first place. The look he was giving her was enough to send her spiraling.

Steve on the other hand had a fire of jealousy running through his entire body-he was committed to making his point and solidifying it. He didn’t hesitate to pull her into a kiss, lips crashing together, Y/n easily melting against him-one of his hands now on the back of her head-hand in her hair while the other was holding onto her waist-pulling her even closer to him.

She moaned into the kiss when he lightly tugged on her hair-giving him the chance to slide his tongue into her mouth-and as he deepened the kiss she gripped his sides-tongue moving against his while she felt herself getting pushed into that familiar pool of Steve Harrington. The hand on her waist slipped down-and when he opted to bunch up her skirt-his hand grasping her ass before landing a hard smack to her skin she whimpered.

He didn’t stop there-as he kissed her he repeated the motion, massaging the soft flesh, harshly grasping it, then smacking it-earning a moan as she pulled away from the kiss-eyes still shut-forehead against his-lips parted with heavy breaths falling from them.

“Already desperate? Haven’t even gotten to the good part yet princess” she kept her eyes shut, now biting down on her bottom lip-she didn’t want to look at him-she felt the very familiar flush across her skin-heat enveloping her figure. Her resolve was so easily broken down it was as if she’d never even been mad at him.

“Open your eyes” she listened to him-her gaze focused on anything but his face as she pulled back slightly-she was embarrassed by how easily he could wrap her around his finger-then he smacked her ass again “Look at me princess” she did as told, now meeting his stare-his eyes were usually dark-but they looked almost black-lust overtaking them as he stared at her-his cocky smirk evident.

“You’re such a desperate slut y’know that?” she nodded her head “You just need attention is all” as he spoke he trailed the hand that was on the back of her head along her cheek-tugging at her bottom lip for a second before he harshly gripped her chin-cheeks slightly smushed together-lips parted as rushed breaths left them. “You’re usually such a good girl for me, perfect little princess, all As, studying so hard, never late for anything, always so focused, so helpful, so eager, keeps those legs nice and wide for me, so sweet-but look at you now-a bitchy little whore” his degrading tone had her panties practically soaked, her thighs pressed together, her grip on his sides tightening.

“Is’ okay, m’ gonna take care of my little slut-remind you that you’re my girl-remind you of your fucking place” she tried to nod her head-his hand keeping her still. “You understand me?” she whimpered “y-yes” he gave her an almost sadistic smile “good girl”

With that he all but threw her onto her bed, her back hitting the mattress-a loud creak from her bed heard as it hit the wall. He was quick to pull off his crew neck-tossing it aside then kicking off his shoes-all the while she stared at him, chest rapidly rising and falling while she pressed her thighs together-trying to get some type of friction-some type of relief.

“So pretty like that-” he spoke as he got onto the bed-making his way between her thighs-easily spreading her legs wide open-a smirk on his face when he noticed the evident wet spot on her black panties. Her thighs still covered in marks he’d left the night before-she was his and it made him go crazy. She just needed to be reminded of that.

He was quick to start rubbing her clit above her panties-the friction and much needed relief had her head rolling back, whimpers leaving her lips as her hands gripped the sheets below her-bucking her hips into Steve’s hand-on the verge of begging him for more. The tension between the two had gotten so thick-so palpable-that she was positive it was only making things so much worse for herself.

“Haven’t even really touched you yet and look at you-” he finally slid her panties to the side-not bothering to remove them as his middle and ring finger found their place against her clit while he rubbed harsh circles against the sensitive pearl. “-Don’t think I forgot that you like it rough-you want me to fuck you like a desperate, whiney, whore? Make you cry?” she nodded her head-finally looking at him.

“Use your words princess” she moaned “y-yes” he smirked, fingers moving faster along her clit-the feeling had her whimpering-hooded eyes staring at him while she moved one of her hands-grasping his wrist “you’re already gonna cum aren’t you? That needy?” she moaned as he shifted his hand slightly, two fingers slipping right into her-his thumb against her clit. It was like he memorized her body-to be fair he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since the first time they slept together.

Her loud moans and whimpers only motivated him to move his fingers faster within her, curling them against her g-spot over and over again-the motion making her toes curl-the familiar coil in her abdomen tight. As the walls of her cunt fluttered around his fingers he knew she was close-he loved it when he made her cum-she looked so pretty under him-face scrunched up slightly, lips forming a perfect ‘o’ while needy whines and moans left her swollen lips.

“Aw are you already gonna cum? That quick-can’t even hold it can you?” she shook her head, brows knit together while she bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to nearly draw blood. “Fuck look at you-so fuckin desperate-fuck.” he groaned as he spoke, his eyes trailing her entire figure-her shirt rolling up slightly-skirt bunched up at her waist as her legs were spread wide-glistening cunt on full display just for him.

“So pretty like this, spread wide open just for me” she nodded her head, head rolling back again, rushed whimpers leaving her lips while her back arched off the bed slightly “that’s it princess-cum for me like the needy bitch you are” that sent her right over the edge-hips bucking into his hand while her eyes were squeezed shut-loud moans leaving her lips.

“St-Steve! Oh fuck-Steve” her words dragged as she moaned, breaths slightly choked, her head felt like it was spinning-because the second she felt like she was coming down-she opened her eyes and Steve was already laying between her thighs-fingers still rapidly fucking into her.

“Love how your pussy tastes-fuck can’t get enough of it” with that his tongue trailed along her folds-teasing her-and right as she let out a loud strung out whine-he started lapping at her clit then bringing it into his mouth. He sucked on it like a man starved, her hands now gripping his hair-tugging at the soft brown locks while her back arched off the bed-eyes screwed shut-loud moans, whimpers, and cries constantly falling from her lips.

When she tried bucking her hips into his face he moved his free hand-wrapping it around one of her thighs-holding it against his shoulder-using that as leverage to pin her in place. He moved back for a second “stay fuckin still” she moaned a slurred “yes sir” which only made him groan-mouth back on her pussy-sliding a third finger into her sopping hole-smirking at the way she gasped-his gaze now held on her face-watching as she tried to look at him-her eyes falling shut each and every time.

“Steve-oh my god-Steve-please-please-please” her begging had him moaning against her clit, his hips rutting against her bed-as he kept his motions up, slightly grinding his teeth against her clit-tugging at it-the motion pushing her right over the edge again-the overstimulation setting as she nearly screamed his name. Her whole body tensed, her hands tugging his hair harder and harder while he lapped at her cunt-sliding his fingers out of her-only to replace them with his tongue.

“T-too much-fuck, fuck, fuck” he licked one final flat stripe against her cunt before sitting up on his knees “Yeah? Too much? Pretty girls all fucked out already?” she whimpered “that’s too fuckin bad” with that he grasped her waist “you’ve got on too much clothes baby, take it off my smart girl” she nodded her head, vision slightly hazy as she sat up slightly-pulling off her sweater-tossing it elsewhere before she unclasped her bra-Steve pulling it right off-taking a second to drag his fingers along her arms-the soft motion a direct contrast from the way he was about to ruin her.

“So perfect-look at you-my perfect little fuck toy” she moaned at his words, her heart beating against her chest while his hungry eyes scanned her figure-and as she tried to close her legs-he pinned them down-holding them open-his stare held on her cunt-wet panties pushed to the side-leaving her open the way he liked. “This cunts all mine-all fuckin mine-you understand me?” she nodded her head. “Use your words”

“All yours-fuck Steve-all yours” he smirked, her raspy voice made him blush, but more importantly-her words lit a different fire in him-one that was consuming his entire being-he needed more of her-he needed to fuck her. He landed a harsh smack to her center-the motion earning a whimper from her while she stared at him. “Hands and knees-gonna fuck you like a whore since you love to act like one”

The way he degraded her made her mind hazy, all she could do was nod her head-and with his help she managed to roll over-now on her hands and knees-head slightly hung. He groaned at the sight-but it wasn’t good enough for him-he pressed a singular hand to her lower back-his other hand holding her hip-pushing against her-deepening her arch until she groaned-the new stretch oddly satisfying while Steve worked at his jeans-the sound of his belt unbuckling sent heat through her core.

She was positive that her cunt was leaking along her thighs-she’d never been this turned on in her life-her mind lost in the haze of Steve Harrington’s dominant side. She’d never been a fan of jealous sex in the past-but right now-she’d flirt with half of Hawkins if it meant he’d fuck her like this more often.

He stroked his cock a few times-moaning at the sight of her on all fours-face down ass up just for him-god he’d fantasized about this moment for what felt like years. She wiggled her ass slighty-swaying her hips and whining “Steve-please-fuck me” he moaned at that-smacking her ass twice “shut the fuck up and wait princess” with that he lined himself up with her cunt-sliding the tip of his cock along her slit-gathering her wetness while teasing her.

“Gonna fuck you so good, make you forget all about that fuckin asshole from earlier-remind you that I’m the only one allowed in this tight little cunt-only one allowed to have you like this-only one allowed to hear your desperate whines while I fuck you like a bitch in heat” she whimpered-looking back over her shoulder-craning her neck trying to see him-watching as he stared down at her cunt-gliding his cock along her slit until he found her hole.

“Oh and princess-I’d never assume you’d whore yourself out to anyone who looked your way” with that he slammed into her-bottoming out in one fast stroke-then he repeated the motion building a rhythm. Her arms practically collapsed-back arching a little bit more as her cheek hit the mattress, hands gripping the sheets below her while she moaned his name-over and over-in a chant. She didn’t even care about the burn of the stretch-she loved the way he was pounding into her.

“F-fuck Steve-so good-so so good fuck” he smirked, smacking her ass again-then placing one hand on her waist-holding her bunched up skirt in place as he fucked into her. She was a moaning, whining mess under him as he fucked her-his head thrown back slightly while he kept his movements up. He couldn’t get enough of her-and the way she felt around him-he was thankful she forced him into going to the clinic-the feeling of her warm, tight, wet cunt swallowing him raw was a feeling he wouldn’t trade for the world.

“So fuckin tight-fuck feels so good baby” she whimpered, biting her bottom lip-the overstimulation making her body burn “too much-fuck Steve” her words had a continuos slur to them, all dragging together. It felt too good, she knew she was close again-her body melting into him-she really was his fuck toy-and she loved every second of it.

He leaned forward, snaking a hand around her figure-gripping her throat-the feeling made her whimper as he pulled her back slightly-her head leaned back into his shoulder while he pinned her to the bed-cock fucking into her sopping cunt-the squelching sounds alongside the sounds of skin slapping practically echoing in the room.

Then he started licking and sucking marks into her shoulder blade, leaving a bite mark along her soft skin-earning another loud moan from her.

“Taking my cock so well-fuck feels like you’re swallowing me-so fuckin good for me Y/n-always so fuckin good-even when you have that fuckin attitude. Just needed to get fucked good huh? That it?” she nodded her head, moaning incoherent words and sounds, he felt her walls flutter around him-he knew how close she was-and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t teetering on that edge as well.

“M-more, n-need m-more Steve” he smirked “yeah? You need more? My smart girl needs more?” she whimpered “y-yes” which led to him moving the hand on her hip-sliding it under her body-between her thighs-two fingers tracing crescent moons into her swollen clit, her jaw dropping at that-a long low moan of his name slipping out of her lips, tears sliding down her cheeks from the intense pleasure coursing through her.

“Gonna let me cum in you? Fill you up? Make this cunt mine?” she moaned a quick “y-yes” while nodding her head, one of her hands moving from the bed below her to his wrist-holding on to him while he fucked her over the edge-a loud scream of his name fell past her lips, her eyes squeezed shut as she arched into him.

“Just like that pretty girl, fuck just like that” he moaned as he spoke, keeping his rhythm up-fucking her through her orgasm before pulling out of her, taking a second to press a gentle kiss to her cheek before moving back. “Roll over for me baby” she lazily nodded her head-laying down then slowly rolling onto her back-the second Steve noticed the tears on her face he swiped a few away with his thumb before holding her chin “you’re so pretty when you cry” his words were almost sweet-but the degrading tone behind them made her whimper.

The way she stared at him made his heart race-she looked so cock drunk, her eyes hooded, tears along her cheeks, a layer of sweat covering her skin, lips swollen and parted with a small smile on her face. “Can you handle another one?” she nodded her head “words”

“Yeah-please Stevie” her voice was strained and raspy, she moved one of her hands to grip his forearm-pulling his hand from her chin to her throat all the while holding eye contact with him-and he lost all of his composure at the motion. Her mind was a haze, she was so high on pleasure that she’d practically let him do anything to her right now and it was driving him crazy.

He stared at her for a few moments, taking every part of her in before moving, now leaning above her, perfectly slotted between her thighs while he traced the tip of his cock along her dripping slit-and in one quick motion he was thrusting into her, her head falling back slightly-a loud moan of his name leaving her lips while her hands easily found their way to his back-gripping against his shoulder blades as he pounded relentlessly into her.

“So-so good, fuck-swallowing me whole-taking it so well” she nodded her head at his praise, brows knit together in pleasure while her nails dug into his skin-scratching long marks into his back while she moaned below him-the tears still falling from her eyes as she felt herself practically drowning-it was so overwhelming. She knew she was close, it wouldn’t take much to push her back over the edge-her fucked out cunt and swollen clit so sensitive that the moment his fingers glided against the bud she was gasping and arching into him.

“C’mon princess, cum all over my cock-show me it’s all yours” His head now in the crook of her neck, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. her heart was racing for a different reason now-his words sending a shiver down her spine and even through the ocean of pleasure she was in-she still felt the butterflies in her stomach. He was so close that his shoulder was slightly brushing against her chin-his body enveloping hers.

“Good girl, just like that-squeezin me so good” she moaned again, and as her orgasm hit her-she bit down on his shoulder-earning a loud groan from him-the motion surprising him but also sending heat waves through his entire figure. “F-fuck, gonna cum-I’m gonna fill you up princess” his words were strained and all she could do was moan-too caught up in her orgasm to speak coherently.

Then as she felt herself start coming down from her high-he kept fucking into her-hips slamming against hers for a few seconds before his warmth filled her-the motion feeling almost euphoric as she whined his name-all the while he was moaning incoherent phrases into her ear.

As they both came down from their state of euphoria he rested his head against her shoulder-both of them catching their breath as he slowly pulled out of her-mumbling apologies when she whimpered and gripped his skin again. Then he rolled off of her-ignoring the feeling of his pants around his hips-tucking his cock back into his briefs while he stared at her ceiling. The two laying in complete silence-the only sounds heard were their harsh breaths.

“Steve” he swallowed “yeah?” “Rich is into Robin not me” his eyes widened at that, brows knit together while he processed her words-then he finally sat up-looking over at her-watching as she pulled one of her bunched up sheets over her chest-gaze still held on the ceiling above them.

“What? She’s gay-” Y/n rolled her eyes “we’re literally the only people in Hawkins who know that you moron” he blinked even more, an evident flush on his skin now because he had to bullshit some excuse about the way he just fucked her-or why he said the things he said-he couldn’t just outwardly say he was jealous because he wanted her to be his-in every aspect. No he couldn’t, so what was he supposed to say.

“Oh-uh-shit” she finally looked at him, shifting her body slightly-laying on her side as she met his stare. “Have you always been the jealous type?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes-the real answer was no-he’d been confident in most of his relationships and endeavors-of course his ex girlfriend did cheat on him but even before that he’d never been outwardly jealous when someone looked her way-so why was it different with Y/n.

“Uh yeah-guess so” she knit her brows together at his rushed response, but she didn’t want to press anything else out of him given the fact that it was late and her entire body was sore-and all she wanted to do was take off her soaked panties, take the skirt off, then lay down.

“Help me with my skirt?” he nodded his head, gently pulling the sheet back-a loud audible moan leaving his lips at the sight of her fucked out pussy dripping with his cum-a wave of heat rushing through his entire body as he found himself struggling to pull her skirt off alongside her panties. His gaze focused on her cunt-and as she squeezed her legs shut-angling them slightly-just enough that he could see her leaking pussy he had to fight the urge to finger it all back into her.

She hadn’t even noticed-her eyes fluttering shut while he pulled her clothes off, however as his fingers gently grazed her inner thigh she whimpered-looking at him-realizing his gaze was directly on her center. “Harrington-quit it” he raised a brow-blinking a few times before looking back at her face “huh-what?” she pursed her lips slightly “stop staring at my pussy” he groaned “I can’t help it, looks so good with my cum dripping from it”

She ignored the rush of heat to her face, opting to roll her eyes instead “take your pants off and lay down with me you jealous douchebag-and I still want that apology” he bit his lip, holding back a smile while nodding her head.

Then after a few minutes he was back next to her-pulling her into his chest.

“Sorry for flipping out earlier-I just-I dunno I didn’t like how he was flirting with you-then you kept giggling and I just-” she scoffed “you just what? Assumed I’d spread my legs for him in the middle of the store?” she was teasing him now, her light hearted tone made him roll his eyes, a smile on his face. “I mean-Rich isn’t exactly ugly-for all I know he could be my competition” she rolled her eyes “I agreed to have sex with you and literally said I wouldn’t have sex with anyone else-also if I wanted to fuck Rich I would’ve done it months ago. He’s a cool guy but he’s such an airhead, maybe if I was like you he’d be my type”

He scoffed “like me?-I’ll have you know my type is very diverse!” she rolled her eyes “pretty bimbos with big tits” he scoffed again “and what about you?” she raised a brow, now leaning up, looking down at him “so you’re saying i’m your type?” he started blushing-eyes widening at her words.

“It’s okay Harrington-you just might be my type too. Don’t think too deep into it-might actually hurt that pretty little head” he rolled his eyes “just because you have a nice ass doesn’t mean you have to act like an ass” she nodded her head “who knows-maybe next time you fuck me like that I’ll let you eat it-and don’t forget I have a great rack too”

With that she let out a few giggles, laying back down and shushing him as he tried to respond.

The both of them knew they were more than friends-however they’d do their best to avoid the conversation about that. For now they’d simply pretend nothing had changed-pretend that their sex mean’t nothing-that Steve’s jealousy was just a spur of the moment thing, and that Y/n’s heart didn’t race everytime he looked her way.

What’s the worst that would happen? They’d fall in love? As if.

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months

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more sassy/flirty matt, possibly college era/study setting ?

//as someone dealing with college right now.... absolutely, i love college era matt. he's my one and only.

You have been studying for twelve hours.

You started your studying around one in the afternoon, and kept working on various assignments until around four, and then you locked in for your hardest class of the semester, American Judiciary Systems. It was just an intense amount of memorization, and you were going crazy.

When you started working, you were doing a good job; You made sure to keep drinking water, you were taking breaks! But somewhere along the way you started to slip on those habits. Maybe it happened after grabbing dinner with your boyfriend and his roommate, but before you got too comfortable on their dorm room floor.

And Matt was mad at you for it.

Okay, mad is a strong word.

But he's frustrated that you won't take care of yourself. He's a hypocrite for it, but he is. So, around one thirty in the morning, he pulls the textbook you're taking notes from out from beneath your heavy arms.

"Hey!" You whine, and Foggy, studying for the same midterm, picks his head up, and in his desirously tired state, tilts his head in confusion.

"You need to sleep." Matt tells you, and you scoff, before reaching for the book. Matt easily pulls it out of your way.

"That's easy for you to say! You took the midterm this morning and probably did amazing!"

"No, I took the midterm yesterday. And you both need to sleep, because if you don't, you'll fail the midterm anyways."

You roll your eyes and reach to your left to grab an unopened energy drink. Matt is quicker than you and snatches it away. In your sleep deprived state, you don't question how a blind man knew where the drink was.

"And no more energy drinks!" he demands. "It'll cause you to crash eventually. Then you'll sleep right through your alarm, and again, fail the midterm anyways." He reminds.

He would never let you or Foggy sleep through your alarm and miss the test, but right now his quest is to get you to sleep.

"Fine, no more energy drinks, but Matt, seriously, I need to--"

"You need to sleep!"

"Ugh!" You groan. You'd be embarrassed of yourself if you weren't so tired. Then, your head tilts back a bit and a yawn escapes your list.

"See! You yawned! Come on, sweetheart, let's go to bed." He demands. You shake your head.

"Can't." You yawn again. "Professor Aelwyn will have my ass." You hum. Matt moves around you and sits behind you, so your back is against his chest. His hands rub up and down your arms as he begins to speak,

"I'll wake you up early enough to grab breakfast, and then I'll help you guys do your last-minute cramming. But I'm serious, I'm worried you'll push yourself over the edge." Then, Matthew plays dirty. "Come on, baby," He begins to kiss your shoulders, and then your neck. "Come to bed."

"You two are gross." Foggy declares as he stands up, stretching out. He takes one last glance over his notes and then begins to clean up. "But unfortunately, dude is right. There's nothing we're gonna learn in the next half hour before we fall asleep that we can't learn tomorrow."

"My point exactly!" Matt hums. You sigh deeply, your hands coming up to your face and rubbing your eyes. Bed does sound nice... And Matt is always super warm.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning forward to clean up your notes. Then, Matt gets up and holds his hands out for you, and you take them, before he pulls you up off his floor. You groan at the pain from sitting on that damned floor and he sighs.

"I know, baby." He hums, and then leads you over to his bed. You hear Foggy's snores from behind you but you just barely manage to change into pajamas.

Then, you crawl into bed, cuddling up to Matt. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, legs laid over his. Then, you sit up to double check that you've set three alarms, and that Matt's is also set.

He pushes your head back so that your face is against his neck again.

"Get some sleep, sweetheart."

"G'night, Matty."

He presses a kiss to your head, knowing you already have this text in the bag. He only falls asleep when he hears your breathing study and your heartbeat slow. His fingers gently comb through your hair, and as he drifts off, you begin to dream of running away from College, New York and everything else with your boyfriend, the first person who has ever truly loved you without any familial or platonic obligation.

You won't. You'll pass the midterm with him, pass all your finals, graduate and pass the bar together.

But it's nice to dream about for a moment. Luckily for you, Matt always makes reality just as lovely as your dreams.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock blurbs

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horseshoegirl · 9 months

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Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 15 - Have You Ever Seen The Rain

📖I need to make two apologies. First, I am so sorry for the long delay. While work was beating my ass, I actually received a rude comment on my Wattpad account for the last chapter that triggered a horrible writer's block. It was taken care of, and it didn't bother me at the time, but I didn't realize how much it affected me until I started to write. Then I decided to use it for inspiration!

Secondly, I'm so sorry for what is about to unfold. This one was planned from the get-go (which is also probably why I struggled because this is the one chapter I dreaded having to write).

(I'll be running from the pitchforks as they come, Woot Woot!)

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child, Shitty family dynamics, Angst, verbal fights, sexist implications, one slap across the face, and Jake being Hangman.

#6k words

Part 14 | Masterlist | Part 16

The story behind how you started ego-checking some of the cocksure pilots at Hard Deck is less interesting than one might think.

It all started with a game.

You weren't kidding when you told Jake you were a library, loving geek who'd rather spend her time deep in the stacks. That was the plot of your entire post-secondary experience. You didn't know how to flirt. You stayed clear of frat parties and cliquey groups. And if a guy tried to flirt with you, you ran for the freaking hills without a backward glance.

You only decided to take that bartending job in building H's damp, dark basement because you were dead-ass broke. But the thing about being a bartender on a University campus, there were moments when you had nothing but time on your hands.

You had to get creative.

Looking back, you would blame the writer-orientated part of your mind that decided to create that little game of making up stories for the people who regularly visited the miserable bar.

The quiet girl, always sitting in the back corner, cramming for a test or writing a paper. Did she like the ambience, or was she avoiding the library? Or was she trying to work up the nerve to ask out one of the bussers, waiting for the perfect meet cute?

Maybe the nerds who gathered every Friday at the arcade-style game consoles playing Pac-Man needed to leave their dorm because Friday nights tended to be the one night everyone liked to party.

Those popular girls sitting around a table with their $5 cocktails, lowcut tanktops, and jean shorts, always on their phones gossiping over the latest social media post from their favourite celebrities. Did they have Regina George in their ranks? Which one was sleeping with the other's boyfriend? How much blackmail did they have on each other?

Which one would murder the other first?

That little game you invented for yourself got you out of your shell. It also made it easier to deal with the persistent football jocks who'd try to flirt with you for a free shot.

Ridley would always get a kick out of it whenever you told her. You'd always imagined her curling up in a ball and kicking her feet back and forth while she squealed in laughter over the phone.

"Be a character in one of your freaking stories. Or better yet, act it out! You're a damn writer, Lizzie."

She was right. So you did.

You'd never forget the laughter of that football jock when your rejection of his flirting attempts to weasel a free drink out of you resulted in his childish reply of, "Well, nobody's perfect, Sweetheart, least of all you."

"I never said I was," you had said with a smile.

You must have said something right because a few minutes later, Penny was introducing herself and chatting you up, asking if you wanted a better job bartending.

You were all too happy to leave. But nothing could have prepared you for the hotshot, ego-driven, and stupidly horny Top Gun pilots who frequented the Hard Deck.

Between remembering their drink order or what side of the room they tended to gravitate towards, you needed more than your little guessing game to figure out their tells. You did pick up little things about them, though.

The WSOs were the kindest; ironically, they stood out in the crowds. Always a kind smile, never a bad thing to say about anyone.

The female pilots were always badass. At least, you thought so. Strong. Always commandeering the room the second they walked in. Always nice, no question about it. But mess with them; you got schooled hard.

They were the literal definition behind the saying, 'Do no harm, but take no shit.'

And with each new group that came in, the male pilots, the single flyers you had called them, paled compared to those jocks. They never changed. A pair constantly vied for first place with each new group that came through the Top Gun program.

Always a pair of males. Women always knew there was more at stake than a freaking trophy.

Those guys talked to you. Well... properly flirted at you.

That's where your little game came in handy. Picking out the little things about them, letting your mind do the creative parts next. It's how you turned Jake down so quickly that first time.

But the guy currently approaching the bar? He did not fit the bill of any regular customer you had seen in a while.

Tourists came and went without question. They stood out like a pack of flies, unsure where to go, with friendly faces and always asking what the best places were. They tipped great, and they never returned.

This guy?

Not a tourist.

He was from out of town. The plaid shirt, jeans and cowboy boots were unusual for a California bar. It was also how he gaped at the walls and ceiling, taking in all the Navy memorabilia Penny had collected over the years. If you hadn't been paying attention, you could have sworn there was a look of distaste on his face with each new item he saw.

But what irked you was the sense of familiarity you couldn't place while looking at him. Blonde hair and a sharp face. Something in how he carried that toothpick between his teeth, not in the way god forbid fucking Tyler had, but as if it was a piece of grass. Also, in the way he walked.

Then he openly leered at a woman's ass as she walked by, and it all made sense.

Ah, a Wham, Bam, Thank You, Mam.

He sat in the empty chair directly in front of you, still watching the women's retreating form. You didn't want to serve him, but a tiny part of you hoped your assumption had been wrong.

It had been a while since you had to rebuff flirty advances; the newer pilots going through the Top Gun Program hardly said anything to you except smile and relay their order.

You suspected Jake was behind it.

"What can I get you?" you smiled at the guy. He slowly pulled his eyes away with a sly grin. The second he caught sight of your face, his mouth stretched even wider as he leaned forward on the bar.

"Your number and the name of a good hotel."

You should have known better.

If it looked like a duck, it quacked like a duck too.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you straightened the line of shot glasses under the bar, not once looking up as you answered him. "Well, I can answer one out of two of those questions, but I'm afraid the only hotels around here are resorts. There is a bed and breakfast about ten minutes down the road that will give you a good deal."

"Will they give me a good deal if I mention your name?"

"Only my friends know my name, and you are simply a customer sitting at my bar wanting a drink?" you raised your eyebrow, tapping your finger against the bar.

He made a show of thinking about it, rocking his shoulders back and forth. He finally nodded, leaning forward to answer you.

"Whiskey. Straight."

You recognized his accent as you reached beneath the bar to grab the bottle. It was more pronounced and slightly more profound, but without a doubt, he sounded like Jake.

Good old southern Texas Charm.

Normally you'd engage in small talk, but you wanted nothing more than to leave this asshole alone. Thinking he'd leave it be after you poured him his drink, you slid the glass forward, then made your way over to the other side of the bar.

The words he called out after you made you stop in your tracks.

"You must get attention all the time. Having your pick of the litter each year."

You whipped around, offended. " Are you calling me easy?!"

He shrugged. "I'm just saying a good-looking woman like yourself, in this place... you clearly aren't sticking around because of the pay."

Oh, you wanted this guy gone. That could have been one of the most double-standard comments you had ever received. Old Liz would have sputtered, maybe run into the back fridge and asked one of the other bartenders to handle it.

You now? No chance in hell. If he were going to give it, you would give it right back. You weren't going to play the boyfriend card. You could fight your own battles, and something told you even if you told him you had a boyfriend, he'd think you were lying. He seemed like the type that wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You've got some nerve." You crossed your arms, matching back to him from the other side of the bar. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not here because I'm looking for attention or have trouble finding a date. You've spent all of two minutes sitting at this bar, talking shit, while I've been fighting the urge to point out your confusion regarding basic anatomy."

He raised his eyebrows at your reply. "My confusion?"

You leaned forward, resting your arms upon the bar, eyeing him sourly. "Is your mouth your asshole, or are you just one?"

It was one of the more cruder remarks you had ever responded with. But this guy was trying to go for gold. Unphased, he leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up. "Hey, no need to be aggressive. You should take it as a compliment. I never called you anything derogatory."

You huffed, pushing yourself away from him, rolling your eyes. "Calling me good-looking, then proceeding to say I'm only working here because it's 'easy to access' is still calling a woman a slut. You don't need to say the word to imply the meaning."

You ripped the dishrag from your shoulder, running it under the tap, muttering more to yourself, "There's no way that shit works on women."

"It does on the women back home," he answered you.

"Oh, so are you staying? Don't tell me you're a new pilot at Top Gun."

They'll beat that attitude right out of you.

"Oh, I'm just passing through. I figured I'd scout out the area. I heard this was a Navy bar. Don't understand what all the fuss is about."

You didn't answer him. Opening your mouth only led to him replying, and the quicker he finished his drink, the faster he'd leave. He took your silence as a means to continue.

"Still playing hard to get?"

"You ask me a question. I might choose not to answer."

"Wow. Subtle."

You turned, a hand on your hip. "You can't honestly expect me to speak to you, a complete stranger, after the way you just undermined my job because I'm not giving to your attempts. There is nothing to get."

He smiled, holding out his hand. "George Seresin. There, not a stranger."

Well, shit.

You wanted to hang your mouth open like a fish. You were staring down Jake's brother.

Now you understood Jake's reaction to Janet's warning. His anxious behaviour in the back of his truck. His lost-in-thought stares or the way he couldn't stop looking at you and Sadie when he came home from work this week.

George Seresin was a very unwelcome, uninvited and long-awaited guest.

Something snapped in your stomach, a twinge of weariness that Jake didn't confide in you. Then again, your slight disappointment was overshadowed by something greater.

Clearly, you were fated to ego-check both Seresin brothers while standing behind this bar. Because the idea came without warning, without doubt, or any sense of hesitancy.

George Seresin was at the Hard Deck.

He was right in front of you, trying to flirt with you without any idea who you were.

And he was sitting in the best spot in the entire place.

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

You stepped backwards, turning to lean up against the bar. As you did with Jake all those months ago, you took the rag and started to wipe.

"So let me get this straight," you said, dragging the damp cloth around his glass, not once looking up. "I tell you my name in some effort to prove we are not strangers. I'm supposed to forget about your 'comments,' so you can use that good old Texas charm to woo me into your bed with a promise of a good time?"

You finally looked up, George only staring back at you with a heated smoulder.

"Something tells me none of those loose cannons cannot even promise you a good time. A quick roll in the sheets before they let some brass monkey in a fancy suit tell them where to shoot. You look like you could let loose for once in your life."

You froze, losing your grip on the rag and fingers twitching. Scanning Jake’s brother, you leaned against the bar, resting your weight on your elbows, throwing the fabric over your shoulder as you got inside his bubble. You never once broke eye contact as you pinned him down.

George bought it, hook, line and sinker. He was so focused on you and your face that he was oblivious to everything and everyone around him, including how your hand slowly reached up toward the rope hanging from the top of the bar.

The second he looked at your lips, you tugged.

Cheers and music flooded the Hard Deck when everyone heard the distinct ring of the barbell. You guessed the song right away, old habits dying hard. Slow Ride, its distinct beat letting you know Jake was here and he had seen the whole thing.

George reeled back, shocked as a few people came up and slapped him on the back, thanking him. You laughed softly at his reaction, pushing yourself away to help the few customers you knew who would take advantage of the free drink.

You had never rang the bell for someone like him. George Seresin would be the only exception.

"What the hell just happened?" he called after you. You didn't bother turning around, flinging your hand to gesture over your head, "Read the sign!"

George followed the direction of your hand, landing on the piece of wood dangling by the silver chain.

You disrespect a lady, the navy, or you put your cell phone on the bar, you buy a round.

You had already helped a few customers when he managed to tear his eyes away to glare at you heatedly. You turned to face him with a gleeful grin. Instead of asking him which one he thought you rang him out for, you started teasingly singing along to the chorus.

You hadn't done that in a while. It felt good.

"What did he do to warrant that?"

You smiled up at Jake as he approached the bar. He never took his eyes off you as he leaned on his elbow against the top of the bar beside George.

"What do you think?" you laughed at him.

Jake smirked. "I'd say he didn't take no for an answer."

"He did a little more than that. Tell him to put his cell phone on the bar, and he'd get three out of three."

"Ouch," Jake dramatically drawled. He finally turned his head, nodding once in his brother's direction. "Hi, Georgie."

You stiffed a giggle.

George huffed, jutting his chin out in your direction. "This one is trouble."

"Don't I know it," Jake said, looking back at you. "Pulled the same trick on me the first time I met her. Only she didn't ring the bell. Guess I did something right, considering she let me come back."

George glanced between you and Jake several times, and you could see the gears grinding in his head.

"Hi," you beamed at him, walking over and holding out your hand. "Elizabeth Beck. Your brother's girlfriend. I guess we aren't strangers after all."

George stared down at your hand, then gritting his teeth, knocking back another gulp of whiskey. He spat out his following words with the glass still to his lips, "So you are real. Jake, there's no way you're dating her."

You didn't try to hide the snark from your voice as you lowered your hand. "You thought I was imaginary? Sorry to disappoint."

George still chose to ignore you. "What's the matter, little brother? Need your girlfriend to speak for you?"

Jake stiffened, and it took everything in you not to ring the bell once more. Cause you knew if you did, Jake would be the one to help throw George out, and you didn't know what repercussions he could face.

"At least he has a girlfriend," you scoffed. "I can't imagine you've ever had a meaningful relationship with how you treat women."

You spied his empty whiskey glass, grabbing it firmly.

"Wham."

Sliding it across the bar's smooth surface, you caught it in the palm of your other hand.

"Bam."

Reaching into the pocket of your apron with your free hand, you slapped his bill down in front of him, rounds and all, attempting your best version of a Texan accent.

"Thank you, Mam."

Not wanting to waste more time on him, you turned to Jake, slightly worried. Some of you didn't know how to act around Jake when he was like this. When he was so... Hangman.

You gently touched his wrist, murmuring softly, "I'll see you in a half hour?"

He twisted his arm in your grasp, sliding his hand down so he could gently squeeze yours. But his eyes screamed a different, intense, unsettling story. As if he was assessing you for any threat.

"Sure."

You tried not to let it bother you, his non-chalent reply. Trying not to frown, you let go of his wrist to serve another customer, calling out as you walked away, "It was nice meeting you, Georgie!"

Jake watched you go with a slight turn of his head, proud you one-upped his brother but wishing you didn't leave him alone.

He knew why George was here. What he wanted him to do. No amount of smirk, cockiness, or even Hangman, could save Jake from this. George was the grave reminder that no matter where the Navy sent him, whether in California or on the other side of the world, there was no end to the metaphorical leash the 'hell bringer' had on both of his sons.

George scraped his chair back to stand. "Come on, little brother," he gruffed out, tossing his credit card onto the bar. "We need to have a chat."

—-

With Ridley's Jean jacket in hand and your bag, you placed them on the bar as you greeted Jimmy after finishing your shift. "Can you watch these for a second, Jimmy? I'm just going to the bathroom before I find Jake. We're going to pick Sadie up from Penny's and take her out for dinner."

The older man smiled. "She's feeling better?"

You nodded. "Mild concussion. She was okay after a few days and back at school. Bummed about not being able to play in soccer playoffs, though. Hence the trip."

"That girl loves her soccer. What a shame."

"Jake's is making it easier on her. I don't know what I would do without him."

He tilted his head towards the bathroom hall with a knowing grin. "Go get ready for your date."

You blushed, walking away, calling over your shoulder, "It's not a date!"

After freshening yourself up, you took a few moments to stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You saw the famous callsign board hanging on the wall behind you. You scanned the names from the mirror, looking for Jake's, doing a double take when you couldn’t find it. You turned, properly facing the wall.

Like the sign in the bar, it was a piece of wood with the words engraved into the top, “Ladies Beware: Navigate the Hard Deck with Care!” and underneath that, “Pilots who fly solo.” Several metal slots were glued to the surface, designed so she could easily slide plastic slate with a pilot’s callsign into place.

You recognized a few, even Rooster's, though his was listed way further down, out of harm’s way. But Jake's was nowhere to be found.

Then you realized - Penny had taken his name off.

She didn't do that for a lot of people. You could only recall one other instance when she removed a pilot's callsign from that board. She prided herself on it, so much so she never removed Maverick's at the top of the list, even after they got back together.

You needed to tell Jake.

With a hint of a smile, you eagerly walked out of the bathroom to find him. He was standing with George at the pool table, the elder Seresin brother lining up a shot as he spoke. As you approached them, you honed in on Jake, realizing he looked uncomfortable. Stiff, shoulders square, and his fists were clenched tight.

The closer you got, the more you heard of their conversation, and when you heard Sadie's name fall from George's mouth, you froze. Hearing him utter her name, especially in that hardened tone, was a punch to the gut. The urge to hide behind one of the support pillars in the middle of the room at the last second was too great to ignore, and you made yourself as small as possible.

You had stumbled upon a conversation you weren’t supposed to hear. George’s voice accompanied the sound of the eight-ball scattering the balls across the table.

"Come on, man," he said, his tone laced with arrogance. "Think about it. She threw her whole life away for her niece. She's tied down now, and you deserve someone who can give you more than that."

Jake remained silent. George continued, encouraged by his lack of protest. "You're a Navy pilot, for crying out loud. You could have anyone you want. Why settle for a girl with so much baggage?"

You weren’t stupid. You knew enough about George to realize he was the golden child, the favourite used to getting his way. George would only see you as Jake’s attempt to one-up him on something.

“You know why I'm here,” you heard him say firmly. “Dad doesn’t approve. He wants you to know if you continue on with her, you will never be welcomed back home.”

You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your stomach. There would never be a time when you asked Jake to choose you over his family, even with what you knew. You wanted to go out there, but this was Jake’s battle. Storming out to threaten anything but a kick to the balls was out of the question.

But when Jake finally spoke, his words were like shards of ice piercing your skin.

"Yeah, you're right."

A strangled noise escaped from you, a sound of raw pain and disbelief. You clapped your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the sob threatening to escape. George’s reply triggered the blood rushing through your ears, the pain in your forearm from your nails biting hard into the skin.

“You know I am,” he laughed, another clack of the pool balls sounding out. “

There was only one way you saw this - Jake played you like he played those other bartenders.

You couldn’t hide any longer. You pushed yourself away from the pillar, swerving around to confront them.

“So Sadie and I were just a game to you?”

Jake turned sharply, shock in his eyes. “Liz,” he held his hands out in front of him. “It’s not what…”

“Not what?” you said heatedly, tears streaming from your eyes. “I heard plenty!”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat, confronted with your beat red face and tears. You were not supposed to hear all that.

The shock on his face was not enough to erase the sting of his words.

"Come on, Liz. You don't understand... it's..."

"What's there to understand, Jake?" you interjected, your voice seething with a volatile mix of pain and anger. "That I'm just another one of your bartenders?"

“Liz, don’t.”

“Enlighten me, Jake.” You crossed your arms. “Tell me all the reasons why. That bringing me flowers wasn’t a game. That getting close to my niece wasn’t a game. Asking me to give you a chance, taking me out on a date.”

You sobbed. “Taking me up in that damn plane.”

The thought was erupt, tearing itself from the deepest part of your mind. You couldn’t help it, the words spilling out in blinded anger. “Was my grief an opportunity for you to get into my pants? Telling me it would be alright so you could leave me high and dry? Telling me it was going to be okay?”

There was a sudden shift in his expression, his gaze hardening. As if a switch had been flipped, the warm, understanding man you knew disappeared, replaced by a stranger draped in defensiveness and sarcasm.

"Oh, excuse me," he declared. "I didn't realize I was your knight in shining armour, rushing to your rescue the second you need all your problems fixed. The girl who never had a relationship, thinking a man would solve all her issues."

The words hit you like a physical blow, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. Jake's harsh gaze didn't match his usual soft and protective demeanour. It was like looking at a stranger, someone you didn't recognize. The man before you was not the Jake you'd fallen for.

This man reminded you of your father.

Was this his plan all along? You racked your mind, searching for any indication this had been coming. But what only stood out was Rooster's words echoing in your head where you found none.

Did you really only add your name to the list of women Hangman had pursued?

Because here and now, those months of working through the trauma of losing Ridley didn't matter.

Was anything about this past year even worth it? The moments you worked through when you would avoid anyone mentioning her because acknowledging her in the past tense was too much. Avoiding the things that reminded you of her. Till helped you through it.

She would know what to say right now. She would be the one beating his ass with verbiage and scathing remarks. She would nail the moment and get it right.

It hit you, the hidden weight of how desperately you missed her.

Suddenly, you were that girl again, starting her first shift in that basement bar, wondering what to say to the students who saw you as a mere bookworm with no character or class - because you couldn't compare to the girl sitting in the corner writing her paper, actually having the courage to ask that busboy out.

Or the geeks in the corner cheering as hard as they did when they beat their high score on the console, uncaring of strange looks. Or that girl, finally standing up to her 'so-called friends' when one had been spreading rumours and crude remarks about her to the others behind her back.

He really did leave you out to dry.

"Stay the fuck away from my niece," you managed to gasp through your tears. "And stay the fuck away from me."

You wanted to believe your assumption that Jake was merely putting on a front. Hangman, his alternate self, was his attempt at protecting himself.

You had a hard time doing so.

There, plain as day, across his face was the most condensing grin you had ever seen as he dramatically drawled out slowly, "No fucking problem, sweetheart."

You didn't believe in thinking about everything you regretted throughout your life. Ridley was the only exception; if you had done more, moved back home after school, or gone to the police the day you kicked Tyler out, maybe she'd still be here. You couldn't change what had happened in your life, so spending time thinking about it in the present wouldn't do you much good.

So it was no surprise to you when you followed through with your knee-deep reaction, your hand coming up out of nowhere, open and firm, slapping Jake hard enough across the side of his face, his head turning with the force of it.

You knew you shouldn't have. You weren't a violent person by any means. Next to Tyler, you never had raised a hand to anyone. You were too hurt to care you just slapped him.

That should have scared you shitless.

Rather than voice the obvious, you remained silent, allowing every repressed thought, every buried emotion to resurface.

Ridley - dead.

Sadie - hurt.

Tyler - lurking.

Bradley - damaging.

It was all too much.

George's figure stood out from behind Jake amongst your blurry vision, tears creating a vignette in your line of sight. You tore past Jake, sticking your finger out only to push George square in his chest. He stepped back at the force, hand shooting out to balance himself against the pool table.

Jake wouldn't have done that had George not shown up. Had he not played with Jake's emotions.

"You need a fucking ego check and to grow the fuck up," you seethed at him. "I don't know whose got your balls on a very tight leash, but you have no right to go around and fucking up other people's relationships."

George didn't answer you, taking his hand off the table to stand properly. You pressed him again. "Does it give you some sick fucking pleasure to hurt your brother? Dad loves me best, so I'm going to remind everyone just cause I can?"

George was still avoiding your heated glare, fixating on his football ring, twisting the piece of metal back and forth. It only pissed you off further.

"My eyes are over here, Jackass! Have the decency to look me in the fucking eyes when I'm talking to you."

If nobody had been watching when you slapped Jake, you clearly had their attention now. Even with the music blasting from the speakers, every conversation in the Hard deck had gone quiet. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, but you couldn't care less.

You were too far gone.

George slowly cocked his head to face you. Your breath was harsh, your body jolting with each gasp as you gave in to the anger. "My sister died, and I took in my niece. What's so fucking wrong about that? That I threw my life away, that I have no future?"

He shifted on his feet, about to transfer the pool stick into his other hand, when you reached out and snatched it out of his grasp, tossing it behind you with a clack.

"You're damn right I did! That's what you do for people you love. I would sacrifice my entire life so she could have hers. And I would do it again in a fucking heartbeat. I will stay on the other side of that bar for the rest of my so-called miserable life, getting catcalled and dealing with assholes like you if it gives her the best shot with the shitty hand she's dealt. You, George Seresin, have no right to judge the choices I've made in my life."

Your breathing was harsh, ribs aching with effort. Every vein, every pore, was consumed with pure white rage. And yet, you still found yourself growling out, "You have no right judging your brothers either."

Even after breaking your heart, you still stood up for Jake.

"He risks his life every single time he goes up in that jet just so the whole world can fucking survive. So you can go on day in and day out and let your father control what you want to do with your life. So you can gallant around letting someone who has lived their life decide what you do with the rest of yours? So Jake’s here for you to bully and control every time he comes home? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The burning sensation in your cheeks mirrored the fire in your eyes, unshed tears making them shine brighter. The salty sting of tears blurring your vision did little to diminish the searing gaze you levelled at George.

"My sister believed everyone deserved a chance. That people cared, regardless of what they did or who they were. I had forgotten that until my niece invited Jake to a barbeque, till she invited him on a hike because he was being treated differently. Despite what I heard and everyone telling me otherwise, listing off why I shouldn’t. That he will hurt me and my niece, and I still gave him a chance.”

Squaring your shoulders and balling your hands to fists at your side, you take a step forward, a dangerous glint in your eyes. You lean towards him, your face close enough to feel his breath, your jaw clenched and muscles tight.

"You are the first person ever to prove my sister wrong,” your voice is dangerously low, underlying anger accompanying each word. “You sure as hell don't deserve that sentiment."

As you stepped away, George lifted his head to glance around the room, everyone's eyes pinning him down. The older Top Gun instructors had stood at their tables and chairs, arms crossed. Some of the current students in the program also stood, the others sending him the most scathing glares they could manage. Even some regulars who weren't aviators were casting him a scornful glance.

You spun, ready to leave him in embarrassment and escape this literal fucking mess, when you caught Jake's bewildered gaze, his mouth hanging open in slight shock.

You weren't sure whether it was that look or the dying embers of your outburst that made you spin back around to snarl, "So, leave your brother the fuck alone! Live your own goddamn life without judging others for the choices they make! Cause you sure as hell don't know what it means to sacrifice something for those you love. If you need an example, look around this goddamn room."

Jake reached for your wrist as you charged toward the front door. The second you felt his touch, you shook your hand loose, a wrenching sob tearing through your chest.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

You didn't bother seeing his reaction to your remark, rushing to grab your bag and Ridley's jean jacket off the bar.

The skin around your wrist burned from his touch, the rough callouses once a comfort but now felt like coarse sandpaper. You wanted to get under a shower or jump in the sea, hoping to remove the feeling of every memory, kiss, and word.

God, you let him touch you. Do things with you.

You were going to throw up.

God forbid you didn't want to walk home. But you needed to go, be anywhere but here, and you didn't have your car. Barely keeping it together as you took off toward the door, you had half a mind to look up to watch where you were going, deaf to Jake's shouts of your name.

There was Bradley, sitting in the first booth by the door. His brow furrowed as you made your way over to him, probably having witnessed the ordeal. You were too upset even to question why he wasn't marching across the bar, ready to knock Jake to next Sunday.

It had been weeks since the fight, with no communication in between. But it was a distant memory compared to this.

It didn't matter what he implied. It didn't matter what happened in your hallway.

It didn't matter.

You just needed your friend.

With each step you took toward him, your shame only grew greater. You couldn't even look him in the eye when you stopped, standing next to his side of the booth, hugging yourself tighter.

"Can you take me home, Bradley? I don't want to be here anymore."

Bradley's opportunity to act smug had finally arrived. But he didn't do anything other than frown. Standing up from his booth, he threw a few bills onto the table before blocking everyone's view of you. He placed a comforting hand on your back, gently pressing you forward as he uttered quietly, "Of course I can, Liz."

You kept your head down as you stepped towards the door, but Bradley, so willing to help you without so much of an 'I told you so,' made whatever resolve you had, crumble. Your knees wobbled, and your heart dropped into your stomach. You fell, and Bradley's arm whipped out, gripping your hip and pulling you tight to his side to support your weight.

Burying your head into Bradley's shoulder, you hid your face. You didn't want to see the looks of everyone in the Hard Deck, whether pity, concern, or applause, as another wave of tears wrecked your body.

Closing your eyes seemed better than reliving the truth.

And because you kept them shut, you didn't see George place a hand on Jake's shoulder, preventing him from going after you. Nor did you see the look of devastation wreck his face; the weight of every wrong decision he had ever made coming back to haunt him.

Whether Jake turned on a dime to punch George square in the jaw, you heard none of it. You hadn't even bothered to turn back to look as Bradley carried you out the front door.

.... So... Who is going to pitchfork me first? 👀

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Part 16 - In the Blood coming soon

Wickett ;)

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grippingbeskar · 10 months

Text

unearthed

chapter eight - tested

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of death, a few heated moments, swearing

a/n: let’s ride let’s ride. sorry for last chapter, i’m trying to build tension as best i can. but, alas, a lady can only be edged so much, so. enjoy this lil hint at what’s to come. also a few people have messaged me, YES WE ARE GOING TO FUCK MANDO OKAY look who you’re talking to. but my God You heathens 🤺 GET BACK 🤺 we must first have our plot before we have our spice. WE MUST 🤺 just trust me okay. i love y’all. I WILL NOT LET YOU STARVE. lots of smut planned for this fic hehehehehehehehehe.

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This planet didn’t even have a name in the system it was crammed in. Just a bunch of numbers based on its jumbled coordinates. That’s how abandoned it was. As soon as you stepped out of the Crests hull, there was just… nothing. As far as you could squint and see, there was just broken-down ships and old junkyards covered in dust. Your arm covers the bright suns from your eyes, and you hear Dins’ heavy steps coming up behind you.

The holo-pad beeping in your hand is the perfect distraction from the quiet that settles between the two of you. You don’t look up when he comes next to you, grinding your teeth to stop from saying something stupid.

“Lead the way.” He says cooly, tucking the baby into his pod and pressing it closed before shutting Grogu safely into the Razor Crest.

“We’re leaving him here?” You ask, still squinting into the horizon. Din nods.

“A planet like this isn’t safe for him.” You feel his eyes on you, then his helmet tilts further to the holo-pad in your hands. “And the location isn’t too far out. We made good time.”

“Thanks to my flying?” You try, the tension following the two of you out of the Crest and hovering in the planet’s heated atmosphere. To your relief, he puffs out a breath a bit quicker than normal— he laughed. Thank the stars.

“Sure.” You smile at his reply, and then look away quickly back to the blinking holo-pad. He was right— it wasn’t too far away, maybe a twenty minute walk from where you’d landed. You’d have to leave the ship behind because the planets surface was too full of debris to land any closer, and it looked like there’d be a bit of climbing to do.

“It says it’s up three elevations. Look.” You hand him the pad, full of grids and flashing numbers displaying the exact coordinates, including levels above and below sea level. According to the increasingly annoying beeping, the closer you got, the higher the droids you were tracking.

Din nods, and continues to follow the blinking in silence. You swallow hard, and will yourself to keep up a steady front, not willing to let a little awkward moment phase your entire trip. You were doing something good— tracking this tech could lead you to your parents killers, and in turn prevent another attack on Mandalore, or your own planet. You needed focus, which is exactly what you didn’t have when you were fucking around and letting Dins hands wander your skin like a kid at a candy store.

It was just… a nice feeling. For a second there, you thought he might have enjoyed it, too. It had been longer than you were willing to admit since someone had touched you like…that. Your body practically sung to him the second he laid a finger on you. He made you feel things that no one, not even ex-partners, had made you feel. He was exciting. Exhilarating. He was the thing you shouldn’t have, but at the same time the thing you wanted the most. It would only complicate things to get… involved with someone like him, especially considering your unique situation.

But then again, it would make perfect sense. You were married to the man. What’s a few stolen touches between business partners, when you were also one day expected to have the man’s children?

As soon as the thought popped into your mind, Din froze, and you had the ridiculous thought that he might be reading your mind.

“It’s says the dump site is up there.” Din gestures to the towering form of a broken down cruiser.

This entire planet seems full of broken parts. Half ships, piles of service droids and random parts litter the ashy red surface, ruble expanding far out along the horizon. There were few planets like this anymore, but with the catastrophic consequences of the Clone Wars, all those remains had to end up somewhere. The Empire stashed them on uninhabited planets until they could figure out what to do with them, but when the New Republic took over, they had bigger fish to fry.

Therefore, now there were ‘junket’ planets, and if you could navigate to them, it was a free-for-all for parts.

You stand in front of what would have been a control cruiser— something used to deploy large squadrons of battle droids, maybe even move AT’s around back in the day. It was massive, even if it was in half. It looked like it had been dumped right on its nose, the giant expanse of it stretching up into the frosted clouds, making you squint again.

Your heart sinks a little at the thought. The entire ship was full of tiny piles of droids and broken down mechanics… and your fathers life work was just lumped in here. Like it meant nothing. All his free time was spend pulling apart these droids and learning them inside out, and now they were just a drop in the ocean of fading memories.

“We’ll have to fly up.” He says, and you laugh until you see him ready the jet pack on his back.

“You can’t be serious.” You dead pan, but he’s better at it. “We can’t just…”

“You see a ladder around here?” You stare back up at the massive cruiser— even if there was a manual way up, it’s a hell of a climb. This thing was huge. “If you don’t want to, I can go myself—“

“No. I want to.” You cut in. He takes a step towards you, and even though you burn with the earlier rejection, you don't move away.

He says nothing, but when he wraps his solid arm around you, he doesn’t need to.

He pulls you close— so close that every part of you presses and aches against him. Instead of looking where he’s supposed to be taking you, the black visor tilts down, and he looks just at you. You think about what he would be like under there. If his eyes would be on yours, or if they’d look lower, to where your skin touches his armour. He must like that, the way you look against him. You… you hope he doesn’t mind it.

“Hold on.” He says lowly, and you ever so slowly wrap your arms around his neck. He dips down to let you reach, and as soon as you have a grip, he takes off.

Your feet leave the ground and suddenly you’re flying— like, really flying, drifting higher and higher along the ruins of the transporter ship. You try not to squeak and fail when he picks up speed and turns slightly, your legs wrapping around him and head burying into his neck. You weren’t afraid— but shit, this was higher than it looked.

“It’s okay.” He soothes, and your head shakes from its sealed position. “Hey, look up.”

“No!” You scream almost in his ear, and he laughs.

“It’s okay… do you trust me?” He asks it so smoothly, as if he wasn’t holding you a hundred meters in the air on nothing but a jet back the size of a baby. But— you do. You do trust him.

So, you look.

By the time you open your eyes, he’s slowing down, dropping the two of you onto a jagged platform that looks like an old control room. In the broken centre, there are several piles of droids stacked and discarded, some still in their full form, others pulled apart. It was clear you weren’t the first ones here.

Din doesn’t let go of you right away. His arm remains tightly wrapped behind the small of your back, and he takes three or four steps away from the edge to pull you further into the wreckage. You can feel every step, every twist of his muscles against you, and your eyes finally look back up to him, watching as he inhales deeply. You feel it too, how hard his chest is against yours, almost like he’s taking you in to his lungs.

Then he quickly lets go, stepping back away from you.

The holo pad beeps wildy, a sound you hadn’t picked up on when Din had been holding you. You manage to look at it, seeing the bright red dots point you somewhere deeper into the cavern of ruins. Din looks at you, then down the darkened hallway, and clearly makes a decision as he takes a few calculated steps in the right direction. You follow close behind, but when you go to reach down into the pile and investigate, a gloved hand catches yours.

“Careful.” He says, and guides your hand back to your side. “There’s all kinds of junk in here. I’ll do it.”

Speechless, you just nod, and watch as he digs with none of the care he guided your hands with. It’s embarrassing how mesmerised you get watching him do just about anything, but you also feel a twinge of guilt at the earlier events.

Who did he think he was, leading you on with that fake ‘pilot lesson’, letting you get all close and personal only to pull away when you made a move? It wasn’t even a move, really. You’d just— grabbed him.

Okay, yeah, maybe it was a move.

But he’d started it. With those longing stares, poetic words and fucking hands— the same hands now yanking on the end of a familiar looking droid. Very familiar.

“Oh, shit. That’s— that’s it!” You say, your eyes wide as the Mandalorian pulls free a dull silver battle droid with red crosses over where it’s ‘eyes’ would be. “That’s the lazer one!”

Din promptly dropped it, angling it’s face away from you and toward him.

You feel your heart soar. A real lead— a tangible piece of your fathers history, however crushed and mangled it was, is really here. You were on the right track. You were on a track! You couldn’t help but sprint faster, mind already firing at a mile a minute.

“Okay— so we’re here. It’s here. Now what?” You say, bending down to look closer at the lifeless droid. It was bent out of shape now, clearly moved with zero care when it was taken from your planet. Or maybe in a rush. “You know anything about the rest of this stuff? Who would have dropped it here?”

Din carefully walks around the edge of the wreckage, keeping his back to you as he examines the rest of the stuff. To your knowledge, it’s all from the years just before the fall of the Empire. A lot of it is unfinished, made in a rush, and he’s right— it would all be extremely temperamental. Your dad used to keep it well away from the main part of the castle, knowing how fast it could turn into a mess.

Just like it did.

“Look at this.” He calls you over, still keeping his back to you and eyes over the top of the wreck. He’s standing a little too close to the edge for your liking, so you take to standing behind him, attempting to peak over his shoulder.

“It’s… a tank.” You say, looking up at him, slightly confused why this would be a noteworthy discovery. There’s crashed ships and tanks all over this planet. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“Look behind it. A clear line, nothing for miles. The entire planet is covered in junk— but it’s clear behind it. Enough room for it to turn around and back out.” You… hadn’t put that together, actually. He’s right again. The tank is pretty big, but there’s tracks in the sand, and you can only see them because, conveniently, nothing is in its path. It’s moved. Recently. “They’ve been using it to haul their loot in and out.”

“Who’s they?” Din looks back at you, and you hadn’t realised how close you’d gotten to him. It always seemed to happen like that— an unconscious magnetic force drawing you closer to him when you needed to feel safe. You step back, now that you think about it.

“Those used to be Imperial Assault hover tanks. Before your time.”

“You are not old enough to say ‘before my time’.” He laughs, and you feel drawn closer.

“It looks like the back of them have been cleaned out for storage. The hollow dip at the back—“ He points, shuffling back so your eye-line is in line with his hand. You were tracking him anyways. “None of that would be open. It’s all closed in, full of weapons or extra troopers. They needed at least three to drive the thing— now, it’d only fit the commander. The driver. The only people who know those tanks well enough to cut out the wiring and hollow them out would be—“

“Yeah.” You breathe out. Of course the Empire was involved, but this looked like a far bigger operation than just your fathers old projects. “So, we know the Empire, or a smaller force of what used to be them, is gathering old, experimental technology and tossing it on an abandoned planet. But, we don’t know who’s running that operation, or why.”

Din wraps his arm around your back and pulls you to him again, knocking the wind out of you. Before you can say anything, process the tightness of his body against yours, your feet leave the panel and you’re airborne again.

“Shit—“ You nearly shout, words muffled into the crook of Dins neck, and you feel him laugh as you bury your face further into the warmth of him. He doesn’t take off particularly fast, and you are pretty sure he’s flying you back down at half the pace he took you up, but your stomach still drops, and your arms pull his head so close your surprised he can see where he’s going. “Warning next time, please.”

“It’s better this way.” He says, the smile in his voice trilling through you, the slow descent nearing a close. As much as you aren’t a fan of flying in the air like this, having him this close is something you’d sacrifice pretty much anything for. “Stop thinking about it.”

“The jetpack is tiny. I don’t know how it holds you up, let alone me.” His other arm wraps around you now, fingers splayed along your ribcage, pressing hard against your skin.

“It’s okay. You’re fine. I promise.” It’s strange, how his words manage to calm you so easily, even with the tension between you.

Before you know it, there’s sand under your feet, and Din is stepping away again.

“We’ll move the ship up, find a place to stake out here for the night. The tracks were fresh, so they probably make regular rounds. If we stay hidden, we should have them by the time the sun rises.” Your eyes widen.

“Have them?”

“You’ll stay on the ship, and I’ll bring them in.” You roll your eyes, walking behind him as you both head back towards the ship. “We need to be quiet, in and out before the notice us. I’ll pick someone off for questioning.”

“I’m not helpless. I can come with you.”

“I didn’t say you were. But you’re staying in the ship anyways.” He slows his pace so you can catch up, his large frame brushing against your arm with every step. “If I need a quick exit, I’ll call you. You’ll have to fly to me.”

You burst out in a short, truncated laugh. You. Fly the Razor Crest. Unattended. In an emergency situation.

“That is hilarious. When they said Mandalorians’ don’t joke, Your voice flattens, and he… wait. He isn’t kidding. “Din. You’re joking, right?”

He laughs when you shove him, still staring straight out towards the horizon. This feels better— this is… better.

You berate him all the way back to the ship, and he keeps laughing.

She was ethereal, almost. Din had seen a thousand skies, watched a million suns set on planets that never etched into his mind— but this was memorable. He would remember this until the end of his days.

You, face nearly pressed to the cold glass of the Crest, watching in wonder as the fourteen suns all set in a simultaneous, almost domino effect behind the horizon. Din admitted it was a sight to watch, but if he were anywhere else, if he were with anyone else who didn’t capture his attention so fully like you did, he doubted he would have noticed.

You haven’t turned back to him in a while. Not since you walked quietly through the hatch, settling yourself pointedly into the co pilots chair. He doesn’t know why you doubt your ability— he hardly had to help you fly through one of the most complicated asteroid belts in the galaxy. You could fly to him with your eyes closed.

He trusts you.

He finds himself waiting for it. Waiting for you to turn back around, focus your steeled eyes on him and smile or make fun of him. He hangs on every word— only managing to hide the way you wrap him in conversation because he was hidden from you. He nearly wishes he wasn’t— that he was more transparent. Maybe then he wouldn’t send so many of the wrong signals.

The truth was he wanted you. He let some other part of him take over during the flight here— spending so much time caring for you, locked away in closed rooms, watching you take slow, shallow breaths, unsure if you’d wake up or not. It did something to him. And then, your hand in his, driving his ship through open space… there was something old and nearly primal in that feeling in his chest. That all of the rest of this was his— and that you could be.

If you could see his face, you’d know.

Instead, you looked crushed when he pulled away. He knew what you’d said before— that you wanted this to be business. You probably had someone waiting for you back home, someone kind and warm, someone who could share moments like this morning with you and not have to pull away. Someone who could kiss you when they wanted, show you how bad they needed you whenever they wanted.

Most of all, someone else could have you tied to them in a way you chose— not by some contract.

Still, it always comes back to your eyes. That look you got, how disappointed you were when he pulled away. It gave him a horrible feeling in his gut, but also hope. There was a spark there, and he couldn’t stifle it any longer.

If you gave him the chance, he was going to let it burn him to the ground.

“Hey.” Din calls to you, voice as soft as melted butter. “We should get set up. It’ll be a long night.”

Your eyes draw away from the fading blasts of orange across the sky, settling on his ink black visor. Sometimes, if he stood in direct sunlight like right now, and he looked up just a little, you swore you could see his eyes. Maybe just an outline, but there was something under there. Maybe it was bad to try and look, but you couldn’t help it. There was a flutter of eyelashes, a glint of the whites of his eyes. One time you think he was smiling, because you swore the hardly-there outline crinkled together.

You, instead of sharing any of these findings, just nod and follow him. When he turns, the light goes with him, and it’s nearly pitch black in the locked down Crest. The baby is hidden away, tucked tightly into his crib after a long day of wandering around and stuffing his face, and now that the Crest is hidden behind a large pile of garbage, it gives you the perfect vantage point on the tank. If it so much as creaks, you and Din will have eyes on it.

When the two of you go back upstairs to the cockpit, Din locks the doors behind you.

“So, who’s taking the first shift?” You hang your legs over the armrest and lean your back against the other side of the chair. “I vote me. I think I’ve slept more in the past two days than I have since I was coronated.”

“We both should stay awake. You watch the south.” He nods to the far side of where the Crest is parked. It’s dark, and you have to lean forward to make out the shapes. If anything moves, hopefully the calm of the sandy surface will be disturbed and make it obvious. “Okay?”

“Sounds good.” You reply, and shift in your seat. For the first time since you’ve met him, the silence is somewhat unpleasant. What happened only a few hours before— that short but intense moment of… intimacy? Something like that. Whatever it was, it still hangs in the air, draping heavily over your shoulders making you want to sink into the floor.

The hum of the ship ceases, and holy stars— it’s so silent. He was quiet by design, by trade, but you were used to filling the gaps. Finding topics that even the advisors and rulers you were least interested in could chat about, but filling this silence right now with Din? You have nothing. Nothing. Maybe you should of taken those talking points Correll offered you before you left—

Being honest with yourself, you could have all the talking points in the world and you’d still only want to ask him one thing.

“Can I ask you a question?” You blurt out, and he turns to you slowly, nodding and then return to watching his side of the planet. “What was that? This morning?”

“What was… what.” His voice is so calculated and calm. It’s… fuck, it’s hot. You shouldn’t think about it at all— but you analysed every word out of his mouth.

“That whole thing. Was that— I know we’ve been stuck together for while, and maybe we’re getting stir crazy or whatever. Was it just a… blip?”

“A blip?”

“Yeah. Like— when you lock two people in a storage closet, somethings bound to happen if they’re stuck there long enough.” Your heart was in your throat, and this was probably the most uncomfortable moment you’ve had in your entire life. Ever. “I know a lot has happened in the past few weeks, and you saved my life, and we’re on this really important trip right now— it’s a lot. I just… I’ve never been good at leaving things how they are—“

“I can tell.”

“And I don’t want anything uncomfortable between us. We’re partners. Good ones. I don’t want to mess that up.” He’s now staring at you, the steady rise and fall of the beskar across his chest giving you nothing. You finally manage to stop rambling when you watch his hands tighten around the armrests. The leather strains under the pull.

“You were uncomfortable?” Your eyes go wide, and a scoff-like laugh bubbles out before you can stop it.

“No. Stars, no, I wasn’t saying that—“ Okay, you tell yourself. Dial it back. “I just know that you are… you know, you. And you don’t want— that. And we’re married, but we aren’t. Married. Really. Plus the whole ‘only business!’ thing we— I said. Well, I said it, but you— you kind of agreed but then there was the whole ‘oh, let me teach you to fly’ as if that wasn’t some kind of move—“

“Hey. It’s okay.” He manages to get in between your insufferable rambling. You were clambering to try and get a lid on your fucking mouth but all it took was three words from him and your mind went blank. Fuzzy, even. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“What? No. I’m not—“ You swallow hard. Twelve years of training as a Queen, and you’re fumbling the minute he looks at you different. Fucking perfect. “You’re just… a lot to handle right now. And it’s late and I’m confused and a little terrified that I’m actually going to have to fly this ship without guidance and crash, stranding us on an abandoned planet no one knows about.”

You look back out to the completely silent planet, and suddenly have the urge to stand up. You get as close to the glass as possible, no longer able to bear the thought of looking at him.

“What are you trying to say?” He tries, the modulator making you shiver at the low, rough tone.

“I’m saying you’re hard to read. I thought I had it down, had you figured out but it’s… more confusing than I thought.” Words are less rambled— you’re more put together when you aren’t staring at him. Yeah, he definitely makes your brain fuzzy.

“I think you have me figured out.” Dins’ boots are loud as they take two steps, telling you he’s stood up. The cockpit is small, and two more will mean he’d be right behind you.

You keep staring out at the desolate planet, ignoring his looming figure over your shoulder.

You laugh dryly at his comment. “You think?”

“I do.” Your eyes shut for a moment, eyelashes fluttering.

“How do you figure that?” You’re out of breath, tired from everything that’s happened today and your rambling outburst, but then he does something that wakes up everything in your body.

You feel his hand, just the tips of his gloved fingers, graze along the back of your forearm.

“You read right through me. I wouldn’t let just anyone bang up my ship like that.” You let out a soft laugh.

“That’s your move, huh? Nearly killing us in the middle of nowhere?” The ship is so quiet, his soft little ‘mhmm’ nearly lost in the still cockpit. It’s gotten darker, too. The suns fully settled for the night on the opposite side of the planet, shrouding the ship so dark that you can only see the outlines of the little red and green buttons on the control pads. “I guess it worked.”

“Did it?” His fingers on your forearm get bolder, leaving goosebumps where they drift a little higher. “Because it seems like I’ve only made you more confused.”

“We can’t— you said it yourself. This… we can’t afford to be distracted.” Your words are hard, but your tone is so, so unconvincing.

“You’re right.” You go to spin around, but his hand wraps around your arm. You’re so shocked by the move that you freeze. “I said that.”

“Yeah…” The air in your lungs evaporates when his hand loosens and travels higher. His fingers trail up past your shoulder, slowly tracing your outline until he brushes past your collarbone.

“This is a business transaction. We signed a contract.” You nod, and he hooks his fingers into the few locks of hair that hang over your face, tucking them behind your ear. “You said you wanted nothing but that.”

“I…did.” Your eyes flutter shut, and you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears. He brushes past your ear and down, letting it drift through the strands and down the back of your neck.

“Why?”

“It’s better if it’s not— complicated.”

“Yeah?” His voice is impossible to ignore, all soft and pillowy like a velvet blanket. You clear your throat, and he steps just a little bit closer. You’re warm all over, feeling him so close. “Is that what you want now?”

“I…”

“Is it what you want?” His hand is still on you, warm through the layer of leather and your clothes— his clothes. “Or have you changed your mind?”

You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his cold helmet against your shoulder, telling you he’s leant down even further. You try your hardest to keep and eye on your post, but the blackened desert is an impossible target compared to what’s behind you. He lets the edge of his helmet drag lightly over your shoulder, like he’s leaving the kiss of metal in place of his mouth.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” You can hear his smile. “You don’t want that anymore?”

“No. I want— complicated.” All in one breath, you blur the lines of your carefully set relationship. Although, the only one who was drawing that line was you.

Your planet. Your rule. That was what was most important to you. It had to be. Out here, all this open space and chasing leads would come to an end, and all this simplicity would stay out here, between the stars. You didn’t have a choice but to shut yourself to the warmth creeping up your back, the soft hand brushing your cheek. You… you had to draw that line.

But a toe across it wouldn’t hurt, right?

A small, tiny step over that stupid line in the sand. Blurring it for a night. That couldn’t hurt anyone. In fact, it might be more painful to turn him away right now.

“Turn around.” He orders softly, and your eyes leave your post as you spin slowly to face him. You tilt your chin up, feeling his fingers catch on your jaw. He lets them slip along the soft skin, as if he’s exploring a part of you he’s never seen before. You wondered how he’d look at the rest of you— if this divine curiosity would follow him all over you. “There you are, cyar’ika.”

It sounds beautiful, whatever that word is, rolling off his tongue in that signature purr he does so well. You smile, letting your lashes flutter under the attention. He lets out a long breath, one that would kiss your cheeks and warm your face if he let it. You have no idea what he has planned for you, but you lean up on your toes and let him do it.

“As pretty as your eyes are, I want you to close them.” You do it so fast it makes him laugh, a soft, nearly gentle sound that breaks the quiet of the ship. “You take orders well— where was that eagerness before?”

“I’m more interested in this.” You say and pout, keeping your eyes shut tightly. He hums, and then moves away.

“Stay like that.” He says, but it sounds… different. Maybe he’s walked too far, but it was almost like his voice was lighter. Not backed with the same kind of cooling confidence he naturally exuded.

Something fell on the ground near you, and you flinched.

“Keep your eyes closed.” He says again, and something else drops. It falls softly, like a piece of material hitting the hull.

“They are closed.” You huff, impatient and a little nervous. What the hell was he doing…

“Good. Keep them like that.” He teases. Your heart manages to calm its rapid beating for a second or two until you hear the unmistakable hiss of a seal being opened.

Leather pulls under the weight of the helmet as he places it down on the chair.

You didn’t have to open your eyes. You could tell— the weight of it, the hiss and sound of his hands against the beskar. You knew he was now standing in front of you, while his helmet was on the pilots seat.

You didn’t so much as breathe.

“I was… I was going to do this on—“ He stutters, thinking for a second. “before. But I think I like you better like this.”

“Sweaty and in the dark?” His soft laugh is unobstructed, and it’s one of your new favourite things.

“The best things for a Mandalorian happen in the dark, cyar’ika.” You’re pretty sure you gasp at the double edged words, your heart skipping several and all too important beats.

“Oh?” You hear him take another step, and your back arches on instinct. “And… what are those things?”

“Let me show you one of them.” You sigh at the sound of his voice. It’s him, but smoother. Warmer. It feels like a gentle brush of warm wind, curving over your chest and settling deep inside of you. When he speaks to you, he only uses the softest murmur, and it makes you weak in the knees.

Then, your face floods with heat as two bare hands take your cheeks in their palms.

His hands were rough. Even through the gloves, you have no doubt they are worn on every day from the relentless hard labour he puts in. The gloves would be more for covering reasons than protection— you think it would actually be easier for him to pull a trigger without them. Maker knows you’ve spent enough time staring at his hands to know their details— every stitch and cross is known to you, but it’s nothing compared to the real thing.

They’re big, too. They match the rest of him, the tips of his fingers gently nudging your hairline as his thumbs drag softly along your slightly agape lower lip. You have no doubt you gasped or sighed when he put his hands on you, but you couldn’t help it. It felt good— better than it should. Just having his hands on you, flesh on flesh, was exhilarating in a whole new way. Feeling him like no one else had… or at least you think no one else had.

It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered when he touched you. Then, he leant closer, and all hope was lost.

“Is this okay?” He asks, voice hardly above a whisper. His face is so close that his nose bumps against yours, a move that makes you giggle in surprise. You nod rapidly, trying not to wriggle too much and give the impressing that you want him to let go. It’s the last thing you want.

He sucks in a breath, going to say something else, but he must decide against it. Because he leans in then, and your mind fizzles to nothing but the Mandalorian, and the soft, sweet kiss he presses to your lips.

Everything moves in slow motion. The gentle move of his hands threading through your hair, the way he presses just slightly closer, giving you a little more pressure in the kiss. The way he smiles against you when you make a small noise. Everything swirls and flips in your stomach, it’s as if someone has set off a real firework in your stomach.

You take a step in, pressing your body to his. You feel him hard everywhere else— beskar lined along you, and the feeling is comfortable now that his lips are soft and warm and against yours. A reminder of flesh under the steel. You don’t move your hands to his face, afraid to see him that way, and instead settle them on his waist.

You tug on him, his hips stumbling forward after a clumsy step, and then collide with yours. He pulls away for a moment and you nearly whine.

“Din—“

“Mm?”

“Don’t fucking stop now.” You pull him again, and you feel him smile against your mouth.

He takes another step, pressing you between him at the side of the ship as he kisses you again, harder. He’s not as soft— still sweet and gentle but a little more desperate now, the show of hunger making you return it in earnest. He tastes good, so much better than the depths of your imagination could of thought up.

He hooks his hands under your thighs, the small squeak you make muffled into his mouth when you’re suddenly hauled upwards and your legs lock around his waist. It eases the ache in your chest, the closer confines of how he holds you. One arm stays underneath you, effortlessly keeping you suspended while the other holds the back of your neck. He keeps you sealed to him, tongue dancing with your own, and a small groan escapes him at the feeling, sounding low and nearly distant.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe— he was dissipating the rest of the world from you with nothing but warm bare hands and a talented mouth. You fist your hands in his hair and pull a little, not missing the way the soft strands curl around your fingers. You committed every small part he gave you to memory. His hand somehow felt bigger than they looked, and his hair was… long. And soft. Unfairly soft. You tug on it again, and he smiles a little and nips at your bottom lip.

“Don’t be cruel, cyar’ika.” His mouth trails away, leaving warm, wet kisses along your jaw, teeth trailing behind in a soft drag. For someone with their head in a tin can, he certainly knows what to do with his mouth.

“M’not. Y-you…” Breathless, you listen to him chuckle at the state he’s rendered you to. “You have nice hair. Long. Good to pull.”

“Mm. Really…” Mumbled against your neck, you shiver at the playful tone now drifting warmly over your neck.

You manage a small “Yeah. It’s pretty.”

“You can’t see it.” His nose drags up higher, and as he shifts, the hardness of his armour moves between your legs. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter.

“Shut up, smart-ass.” You grumble and he laughs, but obliges you. It’s slow again, and he licks into your mouth like he’s never tasted something so sweet in his life. He lets out an uninhibited groan, forehead pressing heavily into yours. He moves the arm underneath you, grinding your hips against his armour again, and your eyes roll back underneath your eyelids. “Fuck, Din.”

“You like that, don’t you?” He covers your mouth with his again so you lose your answer. “Sh—shit You’re so soft against me. So perfect.”

You nod as his teeth tug on your lips. “Yeah— yes. Not… not enough, though—“

“I know, I know cyar’ika. Let me—“ He cuts himself off, and with your eyes shut you have no idea what’s happened. It isn’t until he groans and swears under his breath that you know it isn’t good.

“Din?”

“They’re here.” Your back nearly misses the cool press of the side of the ship when Din pulls you off it, taking two or three steps backwards. You yelp in surprise, clinging to him for only a second, and then he leans down and you’re sat in a chair. “Stay.”

“Din—“ You go to stand but he’s too bulky in front of you, pressing a hand to your shoulder, and then he leans forward and kisses you on the forehead.

It’s so stupidly simple, but your heart flutters into a million little butterflies.

“Don’t go alone. Let me come with you.” You whisper into the darkness, your eyes still shut tightly.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t care. Let me go with you.”

“Stay.” He leans forward again, kissing your cheek. “Please.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him say that before. It makes your heart stutter in your chest, and your stomach swirl with uncertainty.

“If you don’t come back, I will destroy this ship coming to get you.” Your eyebrows furrow together, and he laughs. This time, the warmth of it graces your cheeks, and it has you arching off the chair to get closer to him.

“I’ll be back with your enemies, my Queen. Before you know it.” You hear the click of his helmet go back on, and the feeling of him kneeling in front of you leaves too fast to register.

By the time you open your eyes, he’s gone, and the only trace of him left behind is the burn his lips left behind on your now too cold skin.

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