#double popped collar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toji-girl · 2 months

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wicked intentions | s. gojo x s. geto

synopsis: Bored of your conservative town you're glad that a sex shop pops up, but little do you know that two men who run it are perverts who want to take you to bed but little do they know what they're about to experience.

wc: 8.3k

tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + fem reader + not beta read + repost from my old blog + use of multiple sex toys + mmf threesome + pussy eating + blow job + facial + consensual and nonconsensual filming + cum eating/play + fingering + double penetration + anal you receiving + impact play + teasing + you're shorter than them + they talk you through your orgasm + collar/lease usage + both Gojo and Geto are slimy and perverts and manipulate you + dirty talking + creampie + bondage + squirting + pet names such as good girl and princess + Geto x Gojo + any missing tags lmk!

Smoke hung in the air like a heavy musky perfume clinging to the white ceiling catching your attention before you looked around the old building converted into something you never thought you’d see in this town; a sex shop.

Everyone talked about it, the idea of one in a town like this wasn’t sure to do good with sales, but you wanted to see it, curiosity won the battle as you spotted the two men working the counter.

They were deep in a conversation when you stepped further in, you could hear their low mumbling as you glanced at the array of dick-shaped objects.

The main theme seemed to be things you could suck ironically enough, lollipops, straws, and other things that were phallic shaped and all sorts of bachelor and bachelorette games with various items.

You walked over to the movie section and glanced at them, you couldn’t help it really given the nature of your job as a sex worker. It was only solo videos you posted on OnlyFan videos and pictures.

Warmth flooded through your veins looking at the covers, women and men getting fucked or sucked off or eaten out, blood pumped hot pulses throughout your body, and you inhaled smelling the soft scent of vanilla mixed with something heavier.

“We have a sale, buy one get one free!” A light chipper voice called out from behind. You turned and looked at the workers.

One, tall and lanky with white hair and eyes, you were sure the most beautiful blue ever. And white eyelashes that complimented his eye color, your eyes averted to the man next to him, the complete opposite. Long black hair with dark eyes to match.

You smiled and walked over to the counter which housed all sorts of things for smoking, and other small sex items. “Sounds good, it looks good here.” You murmured with a genuine smile happy to see something new in town.

The white-haired man smirked and drummed his long slender fingers against the counter. “Thank you, anything that catches your eye?” He asked, locking his gaze with yours with a smirk.

You nodded and pointed to the rack of dildos behind you. “A few of them, I’m so happy to see a new shop especially one that caters to this in such a conservative city.” You voiced your appreciation with a little sultry touch, seeing men like them is also a rare sighting here.

Both men smirked now glancing at each other and sharing some sort of silent conversation. “It was a bitch to get it set up, these folks need to use one or two toys.” You giggled and looked at the white-haired man, his eyes undressing you practically along with the other one.

“My name is Satoru, I’m the owner and this is my trusty employee and best friend, Suguru.”

You gave them your name with a shy smile, usually, you barely paid any man attention due to them mostly being close to twenty years older or more than you, you noted they both oozed with charm and something sinister swimming under their gaze.

“Such a pretty name for a pretty girl,” Suguru spoke up eyeing you.

Another fit of giggles erupted from your pink glossy lips. “Thank you, you two are the most handsome men that have graced this town along with a sex store.”

It was Suguru who spoke again, his lips curled into a smile as well. “So it’s like a two-in-one package.” He murmured.

You leaned forward giving them a good view of your tits with a matching smile. “I’ve always wondered how two would fit into one.” You teased looking down at the small pipe that resembled a pair of lips painted a deep red.

Satrou’s own lips split almost as he stared at you, no one really has come in besides the few dudes wanting a fleshlight because as they put it their wives never wanted to put out, and now here, these two have a sweet little thing in front of them.

“Very easily with just a little bit of lubrication and coaxing, you could do it,” Suguru purred putting his elbows on the glass leaning forward to catch a whiff of your strawberry perfume, the sweet smell made his mouth water almost. Moving here proved to seem a good idea.

A gush of slickness coated your panties as you gazed into Suguru’s eyes laying your hand over his with a smile so sweet that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to taste your mouth or pussy first, his cock throbbed behind the counter. “You’re right, if I need any help I’ll let you know.”

Before Satoru could add anything else the door rang, and an older gentleman walked in with his hands stuffed in his pockets. You stepped away with a wink and headed back to the wall of dildos scanning the plastic for a larger toy, which happened to be a dark pink filled with glitter.

His words echoed in your head ‘a little bit of lubrication and coaxing, you could do it.’ You grabbed it and headed over to the lube section finding a lube quickly before turning back to the counter to see the older man walking out.

“What if I gave you both a shoutout on my page about your new store?” You asked in a soft tone setting the items on the counter, again they shared a silent conversation and nodded as Suguru rang up your things and bagged them.

Satoru slid your card back into your palm running his slender fingers over your flesh leaving behind a trail of hot desire that crackled like a fireplace. “We’d love that, let me make a counteroffer,” This time they both leaned into your personal space with wicked smirks.

More times than not you were not this bold, but something about the men gave you a boost of confidence you held onto for dear life even though you let people see your naked body this was different, almost more intimate.

“You let us watch your little video and we’ll give you half off today,” Satoru murmured reaching his hand and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip collecting the pink glittery gloss that you smeared earlier.

Your heart thumped fast in your chest watching him with a smirk. “You got a deal, and maybe soon you both will show me just how well I can coax two into one hole.” You scooped up the bag and walked out of the shop with a smile and ruined panties.

Both men looked at the username you wrote down on the receipt and they knew that they were going to be in for a show.

Later that evening you sat on your bed dressed in the new lingerie that came in the mail earlier in the morning, however, this time felt a bit different knowing that Satoru and Suguru could join anytime and you’d have no idea, their nickname could be anything really.

You scanned the new toy you laid out along with the lube bottle and wondered how it would feel for them to stretch you out instead of the silicone dildo, your brain fizzled out almost at the thought of being sandwiched between them.

Satrou’s blue eyes reminded you of the crystal clear waters that lapped over each other on a hidden away beach, and Suguru’s reminded you of melted dark chocolate, you swore you could almost taste the salt from the water and the aroma from the food.

You sighed heavily and flopped on your bed playing with the frilly edge of your one piece glancing at the camera working up the nerves to start the live, usually, you’d like to record and edit then post but tonight would be a special treat.

Once you were in the middle of your bed surrounded by pastel shades of pink and purple you kneeled next to the toys and turned the camera on pointing it at your face, per the requests from your subscribers, they loved you in soft colors and see-through outfits.

Comments started to roll in the moment everyone was alerted you were online, you cupped your tits and settled down letting your heels rest on your ass. “Hello everyone, sorry it’s been a whole week since I uploaded anything so I wanted to give a little treat, and I’m here to give a shoutout to the two very sexy men who helped me out today.”

On the other side of the screen, Satoru and Suguru sat on their couch tuned into your live stream. “Holy shit, next time she comes in I have an idea,” Suguru murmured, his eyes fixated on the screen watching you rip open the thick plastic.

Little did he or Satoru know that you were actually prepping yourself for them because you planned to invite them over and give them a show that neither will ever forget when you gained more confidence to do so, you gasped when you held the toy in your hand looking at the camera.

They both watched with throbbing cocks as you quickly got up to wash it off before setting back down with an open mouth you swirled your tongue around the head before pushing more of it into your mouth staring at the red dot. “Do you think she swallows or spits?” Satoru asked.

“Swallow for sure, but I’d love to see my load on that pretty face of hers,” Suguru replied with a smirk grabbing the laptop and placing it on his knees as he leaned back letting his friend get a better view as well, this time you were deep throating it with your eyes closed.

You gagged a little bit before removing the toy holding it as you popped the top of the lube and squirted some on the tip before smearing the substance up and down the shaft as you sat up on your knees placing the toy between your legs.

They watched as you slowly slid the head inside you, your mouth dropped open at the feeling of something thick trying to stretch you out. “I’ve always wanted to try double penetration, two cocks splitting me wide open and the cum dribbling out sounds so hot.”

Satoru and Suguru exchanged a look and a smirk before they turned back to the computer watching you drop down more on the toy, your hands gripping a bunny plushie with a pink bow on one ear, your face screwed up in pleasure as you let out a high pitched whine.

Finally, the dildo bottomed out leaving you stuffed full as you rocked back and forth a few times getting used to the sensation of it, everyone could hear the wet suctioning as you fucked the toy faster moaning like a porn star, your eyes fluttered shut thinking about the two men.

Satoru would be on the bottom and Suguru would be behind you as they worked their cocks in and out of your pussy taking turns before both of them slowly would bottom out, you whined thinking about it triggering your orgasm and leaving a creamy ring around the toy’s shaft.

You opened your eyes and read the comments that poured in, some wishing you would have done more foreplay but none of them stuck out to you. “I’m sorry it was fast-paced and had no foreplay, I was super wet to begin with, I have those two on my mind. See you soon.”

Satoru focused on your pout and how soft your lip felt under his thumb as he stared at you through the screen wishing he could reach in it and cup your cheek, the laptop went dark when you ended the video blowing a kiss to the camera.

“She was thinking about us, next time we should leave a comment. Keep her guessing, she was reading them wondering if we were going to say something.” Suguru commented shutting the laptop down and growing excited by the second for whenever you would come in next.

It was only four days after you live-streamed when you stepped back into Satoru’s shop again, a husky vanilla scented the air from the incense on the empty front counter, you sighed and pouted a bit looking around. The color scheme was done in white and gold hues.

They blended perfectly together you thought wandering around the small area, the place before this was a tiny cafe but Satoru added a bit more to it, including the dressing rooms, his office, and a little room that could seat two to watch an adult movie.

A sign taped to the door read: “You make a mess you clean it.”

“Come back for more toys?” Suguru asked stepping out from the back room, the doorframe held beads instead of a door clacked together as he leaned against the counter watching you, his coffee eyes taking in your outfit of the day.

You hummed and walked over to him. “I sure did, but this time I’m looking for more lingerie, and I need a little help I think. What color do you think would fit best?”

Suguru slid his hand over yours turning it so he could intertwine his fingers with yours. “Spin for me, pretty girl.” He demanded in a soft tone, you let him turn you around slowly feeling heat creep up your neck and pool in your lower belly.

“Satoru!” He called out turning his head to glance at the beads before looking at you again with a predatory smile, a second later Satoru ducked out from the backroom seeing you his lips split with a grin.

He hummed his response and looked at his friend then you. “She wants to know what color suits her the best, what do you think?” Suguru asked spinning you once more and hearing them both whistle.

“I would say either white or red, your skin color is the most beautiful I have ever seen before.”

His eyes burned a hole in you it felt like, the gaze intense. “I think I actually have a set that would do well, follow me, princess,” Satoru said stepping away from behind the counter to take hold of your hand before guiding you to the lingerie racks in the corner next to the fitting rooms.

“This one is probably one of my favorites and I can only imagine how you’d look in it,” Satoru whispered bending down, his lips barely caressing the shell of your ear as he stood behind you grabbing the first piece on the rack barely brushing against you.

It was a simple open teddy body harness that showcased your tits and a tiny string that barely covered your pussy. You took it from his hands, being this close to him everything in your brain went haywire, and you didn’t trust your voice not to crack.

His slender fingers brushed along your neck fixing your necklace. “Want to try it on?” He asked opening the door next to him, part of you wanted to invite him inside to help but you kept that on the backburner gripping the hanger and stepping inside the small room.

“I’ll call out if I need help with something, thank you.” You said with a wink shutting and locking the door before shedding your clothes to slip on the new outfit, you could still feel him behind you, his musky cologne invading your nose and any common sense you had melted.

As you twirled yourself in front of the mirror Satoru and Suguru sat in the office staring at the computer, the screen showing you in full HD thanks to the camera they set up the morning after your live in hopes that you’d come back which admittedly look longer than they liked.

Suguru leaned back patting his friend's knee with a smirk. “I think you were right 'Toru, she looks fucking divine in that.” He muttered zooming in on your tits, your nipples perky from the AC that blasted down on you from the ceiling.

“I don’t know if I want to rip it off her with my teeth or hands,” Satoru replied adjusting his dick in his pants and wondering how’d you taste, he could hear your moans and cries play like a record in his brain as you changed back into your clothes none the wiser what was happening.

But if they had to take a bet both men would say you wouldn’t mind it one bit. A few minutes later you approached the counter with a few new outfits and some more toys, something different than what you’d use, a collar and two leashes hoping they’d get the hint.

“How did you like the teddy?” Satoru asked ringing you up while Suguru bagged everything just like last time, however, his hand hovered above the collar with a raised eyebrow while silently nudging his friend's foot, blue eyes saw the new item and looked at you.

“It fit perfectly, you’re right the color does compliment me the best, you’re very attuned to that stuff I see.” You replied taking the bag from Suguru with a shy smile, both of them were a bit intimidating and stood over six feet tall with smiles that screamed sinister.

They both smiled again and nodded. “I am, you should see what else I’m attuned to,” Satoru said taking a page out of your book with a wink.

“Maybe someday, see you two later.” You said blowing them a kiss and walking out of the shop, the warm sticky air made it hard to breathe along with the two sexy as sin men who watched you.

Monday morning came quickly which meant going back to your day job, but when night fell you turned into someone else, a personal pornstar is what some of your subscribers would say but they didn’t know you worked at the local library.

It wasn’t an awful job, minus the people who came in and didn’t understand that phone calls should be moved outside and where everyone else can hear, and usually, you just pushed the cart filled with books to put them up where they belonged which was very easy.

Until you didn’t have your step-stool to help reach the top but you attempted to by standing on your tip toes feeling the bottom hem of your shirt roll up exposing a sliver of your back when you felt someone’s fingertips brush along your spine.

You whirled around ready to give them an earful but clamped your mouth shut seeing Satoru looming over you with a white stick hanging from his mouth, his hair wet and shaggy as he grinned down at you. “Don’t scare me like that again!” You whined pushing on his chest.

He chuckled and moved the sucker to the other side of his mouth, his cheek puffed up from the candy. “I didn’t mean too sweetheart, I was trying to pull your shirt down.”

You huffed a bit and rolled your eyes basking in his attention, he was for sure the sexiest man to ever walk into the library. “Where’s your buddy at?” You asked looking around for the other man.

“He’s back at the shop, why? Did you want him here too?” Satoru teased setting one hand above your head leaning closer, the sweet smell of his lollipop surrounded you both and thankfully no one would be able to see what was happening being in the corner of books no one checked out.

You shrugged in an attempt to show that you didn’t care when you actually did and stared back at him feeling your panties dampen at the sight of him, tall and lanky you wanted to know how his cock would feel or taste inside your pussy and mouth, is it as pretty as him?

“What flavor is that?” You asked curiously following the movement of his tongue that peeked out.

Satoru grabbed the white stick pulling it from his mouth while using his free hand to grab your chin gently pulling your lips apart watching you stick your tongue out immediately. “Good girl.” He praised in a whisper sliding the lollipop in your mouth.

Your fingers curled around his arm and your eyes fluttered shut as you closed your lips while you sucked on the lollipop, an explosion of peaches and cream filled your mouth. The man in front of you was walking sex doing this in such a public place not caring if someone saw.

A small moan slipped past the candy as you sucked it harder opening your mouth a bit to show him swirling your tongue around it while opening your eyes to see him licking his lips while leaning in closer. “How does it taste?” Satoru asked ghosting his fingers over your jaw and neck igniting a fire deep between your legs.

“Sweet and creamy,” You murmured taking the lollipop from your mouth to transfer it to his with a smirk as you ran your open palm up and down his bicep giving it a squeeze feeling him flex under your touch while he took a step closer.

He cupped your cheek pressing himself against you a little bit. “Just how I think you’d taste. That was a sexy show you put on the other night, I can’t wait to see what you do next. But I must know whose going to use that collar.”

“Hopefully you and Suguru soon.” You replied standing on your tippy toes to kiss him on his cheek before walking off with your cart and books and a pounding heartbeat.

Satoru watched your ass as you swished your hips from side to side a bit more than what you needed to do to give him a show while you walked to the next aisle as he followed. “How soon is soon?” He asked with a slight pout leaning against the end of the bookshelf.

“Depends,” You replied glancing at him as you slid a book between another one before picking up the next one seeing that it belonged on the top shelf, “mind helping me out please?” You asked.

He grabbed the book and stood behind you once more pressing his throbbing dick against your ass as he put it away before grabbing another one titled 69 Sex Tips and flipping through the pages showing you the book landing on the position chapter with figures showing the sex positions.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the three people in a circle doing 69 on each other. “We could do rock paper scissors to see who gets to taste your sweet pussy first, the other night Suguru and I jerked each other off to you, his cock would fit so nicely inside of you.”

Satoru watched your mouth form a small o as you moved your gaze from the book to turn your head and stare at him. “You- oh my God.” You groaned grasping at the sucker stick and pulling it from his mouth to pop it back in yours.

There was nothing left to say but to walk away again with the peach candy saturating your taste buds with Satoru and the sweet flavor, his dirty whispers swirled around in your head until after your shift and when you got home to make dinner and crawl into bed.

All throughout the course of a few months, Satoru and Suguru would pop into the library to talk to you, sometimes they’d come by themselves and whisper filthy things in your ear, especially Suguru.

He always felt warm like he was running a fever, so at your break times when he would drop in you’d lead him to the breakroom and curl up on the couch reading to each other, most of the time it was erotica with light touching to leave you wanting more.

“And she sucked his cock, her tongue swiping on the underside before closing her lips around the leaky head and hollowing her cheeks to take him deeper…do you want to do that to us, my pretty girl?” Suguru asked one Thursday afternoon as you sat in his lap.

Your eyes were glued to the pages listening to his hypnotic voice that whispered dark and husky in your ear, his free hand was wrapped around your waist keeping you still as you rolled your hips a bit to alleviate the pressure that built between your legs.

“Suguru.” You whined resting your head on his shoulder wanting nothing more than to strip naked and let him ravage you on the couch not caring if one of your co-workers walked in.

He closed the book and held you closer to him as you both panted almost in sync. “I know, I know your pussy wants to be played with.” Surugu whispered letting you straddle him to run your fingers through his long hair.

“Friday night I promise to give you and Satoru a little show, so be sure to video chat me before I start recording for my page.”

He smiled and stoked your cheek letting his fingers trail down your throat to your tits tracing the underside of your bra and then your nipple thanks to the thin fabric. “For our favorite girl, we’ll do anything, we can’t wait to see it.” He murmured cupping the back of your neck.

During the times they visited you, they both stroked the fire building between you three until one of you would break down and take what you really wanted. Suguru grabbed a grape from the small bowl you packed in your lunch box and held it in front of your mouth.

He watched you part your lips letting him place the fruit on your tongue and close your lips around his finger sucking a bit as he played with your tongue depressing it before slowly sliding it a bit further making you gag.

Suguru pulled out with a smirk as he watched you eat it before helping you up and off the couch. “Tomorrow evening at seven I’ll give you a video call, be ready pretty girl.”

The next night you sat on your bed with your phone in hand watching it ring, it was well past seven, and still nothing from either Satoru or Suguru, anger pumped through your veins hot and heavy. While neither of them promised it still hurt that they couldn’t keep up on a simple plan.

You jabbed your manicured finger on the red button hanging up before tossing your phone on the mattress before getting up wondering what the hell was happening and why they didn’t call, part of you wanted to call once more before storming to their shop to give them an ass chewing.

The loud ringer of your phone startled you a bit as you wrestled for it under the covers grabbing it to see Suguru video-calling you. Quickly you hit answer and frowned staring at him and Satoru who pressed his head against his friends.

“Before anything is said, we’re sorry. Time slipped from our hands and a group of women came in looking for a bunch of bachelorette party things.” Satoru said first with a small pout seeing the annoyance on your face.

You huffed and held one of your plushies close to your chest staring at them. “Really? Did you both give them extra attention?” You asked trying to keep the jealousy out of your tone but it was very evident which only excited the men on the other end of the phone.

They both looked at each other first then you. “No we didn’t pretty, I promise. They were all over Suguru and they were even touching his hair but we tried to get them out sooner.”

For some reason it angered you more knowing other women were touching them, nothing was even set in stone about whatever was going on between you three. “They were, huh? I don’t blame them.” You muttered looking anywhere but the screen.

You felt like a little kid not getting the sucker they wanted before bedtime, there was no reason for it truly but the idea of another woman touching them had your blood turning into fire. “Are you at home pretty girl?” Suguru asked watching you pout.

“Yes. Where else would I be?” You shot back rolling your eyes.

Satoru hissed like a cat and mimicked one scratching at the air. “Put the claws away kitten, you’re the only customer that gets special attention, do you want us to swing by and cheer you up?” He asked.

Little did you know that they already had a bag packed with toys and items from the shop ready to go whenever you gave your answer. “How are you two going to cheer me up?”

“We have our ways, see you soon kitty cat,” Satoru replied with a wink hanging up his phone and standing up with Suguru grabbing the bag smirking at his friend as they left their apartment.

You waited by your door for what seemed like hours but really it was only twenty minutes when a knock startled you, quickly you looked through the peephole seeing Satoru and Suguru standing there, suddenly the gravity of the situation came crashing around you.

They really were the two best-looking men you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, both of them lured you with charm and nicknames that left you feeling all warm and gooey inside. You opened the door and let them inside looking at the rain that poured from the sky.

You eyed the backpack on Satoru’s shoulder watching them kick their shoes off and shed their jackets. “I didn’t know we were going to have a sleepover.” You murmured leading them into the kitchen.

They both followed like dogs wagging their tails who knew they were getting a bone, the biggest one they ever had too and that would mean they would need to savor it.

After they fucked you good and dumb they also knew that their plan would fall perfectly into place. “It’s going to be much better than that kitty.” Satoru mused with a smirk as he stepped over to your cupboard opening the door looking for something sweet.

“Oh? What does that entail? Also, I hope you’re not going to eat me out of house and home.”

Suguru chuckled and stayed in his spot in the doorway leaning against the frame looking at you, the outfit you wore wasn’t anything scandalous but you still looked gorgeous and fuckable, everything about you pulled both him and Satoru in.

“If you let him he will, he’s very good with his mouth,” Suguru replied with a chuckle watching his friend then you.

You knew what he was getting out, Satoru turned and looked at you with a wink popping a cherry flavored sucker in his mouth swirling his tongue around it before pulling it out. “He’s right, but we came to protect you from the thunderstorms.” He said in a soft tone.

It was a little secret that you slipped one night when you two were hanging out that you get nervous sometimes in them, you turned and looked at the window watching the rain that pattered against the glass pane.

“My two knights in shining armor.” You teased reaching over grabbing the sucker from Satoru’s mouth sticking it in yours, the memory of the first time it happened you felt your pussy clench.

Suguru stepped in the already cramped kitchen behind you pressing himself against your backside as Satoru did the same only to your chest, your head was squeezed between their chests not giving you a chance to escape.

Satoru trailed his open hands up and down your sides gathering the pooling fabric and lifting it up, Suguru quickly helped raise your arms up so his counterpart could tug the shirt off of you letting it fall to the floor.

“You really are so pretty, and have the cutest pout especially when you’re wearing lip gloss.” Satoru murmrued looking down at you, his hand now coming up to hold your chin tilting your head up while Suguru leaned down kissing the back of your neck.

Shivers raced up your spin covering your whole body in goosebumps, you felt your nipples pebble from the kissing and intense stare off with the blue eyes. Slowly he leaned in making it a tease, dragging it out until finally his lips met yours.

The first kiss between you two was soft and sweet until it got hungrier and deeper as you twisted your fingers in his shirt, you broke the kiss and turned your head to kiss Suguru who held the back of your head slotting his mouth against yours.

You pulled away from him and leaned your head on Suguru’s chest looking at Satoru helping him take his shirt off, everything you dreamt of was finally coming true, the feeling of between being sandwiched between them.

Satoru dropped the backpack and let you undress him. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” You murmured taking both of their hands letting one of them grab the bag before following down the hall behind you.

All three of you stepped inside, their eyes scanning the walls and decoration before landing on the bed, a few plushies took space up next to the pillows, a four poster bed surrounded a king sized mattress in a color scheme that fit you to a T.

You kissed them both again before unhooking your bra and tossing it in your hamper. “You both know that I wanted you to use this on me.” They both watched you head over to your closet pulling out a small box filled with your toys with the collar and leashes on top.

Both of them stepped forward grabbing the leashes from your hand, the collar it was attached matched the color, they watched with throbbing cocks and slightly open mouths as you put it on, the inside was a soft fuzzy material thankfully.

Suguru pulled you closer wrapping the leather around his fist jerking you forward almost falling into them, Satoru caught you wrapping one arm around your waist. “I jerked off thinking about this, reality is much better though I have to say and being able to hold you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut melting into his arms, they both led you to the bed helping you on it, Satoru let go of his leash giving it to Suguru before grabbing the backpack removing the contents from it, multiple sex toys, and clothes. “So it is a sleepover, huh?” You teased.

They both chuckled as he continued grabbing cuffs and a short bar, again you watched them have a silent conversation before Suguru kneeled next to you helping you lay on your back. “Just for now pretty girl.” He told you taking the leash off your collar.

Their pheromones had you feeling in heat almost watching them both kneel between your legs now, they parted your thighs draping them over their laps before hooking their fingers in your panties and pulling them off.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you stayed silent watching them attach the cuffs to your ankles first, the inside the same as your collar padded with soft fur. “Grab this bar,” Satoru said as he extended it in front of your eyes.

Instantly you wrapped your fingers around it, the conversation was hazy in your mind but it seemed that you loved to spill your secrets to them telling them your darkest fantasies, and after yet again another lengthy conversation they got your permission to do indulge you during the weeks that spanned from then to now.

They were glad you trusted them, it showed in the way you let them move your limbs to their liking until the bar that held your cuffed wrists was weaved between the bars of your bedframe and your legs straight up in the air.

Suguru held the bar and pushed your legs back until your thighs were almost pressed against your ears, the stretch rippled through your muscles adding to the pleasure, with your pussy on full display it gave Satoru the opportune moment to stroke the slick flesh.

He gathered your wetness that webbed between his fingers to rub your clit while his friend took the time to kiss your breasts and nipples. “You really are pretty all around,” Suguru muttered as he pulled away while looking down at his friend slowly sliding two fingers inside you with a squelch.

You curled your toes and rolled your eyes to the back of your head, along with the other secrets you whispered into their ear they knew it’s been almost two years since you’ve been with anyone else but your own hand.

It was the same with them, but they’ve hooked up here and there with each other and you told them time and time again when you three finally did something you didn’t want anything to hinder fully feeling them, it was a dangerous game playing with heat but you were willing to get burnt a bit for them.

Their tongues were like flames stroking the wild fire inside you, they were tearing apart at your seams getting to know the real you before stitching you back together, it was a sick perverse thing to do but over the weeks they were both certain you were their missing part.

Suguru bent at his waist and swirled your clit with the tip of his tongue before dripping more spit onto your cunt and Satoru’s fingers, you moaned and swirled your hips trying to fuck yourself on his digits. “More oh please more!”

Satoru pulled out leaving you aching and empty to remove his pants and boxers getting fully naked before taking the bar from his friend so he could do the same thing until all three of you were naked.

Sweat was like a second skin clinging to your flesh, heat gathered around your bodies filling the small room, they could smell your arousal that pooled between your lips creating a sticky mess that Suguru leaned down and licked clean.

His tongue went up and down making sure not to miss a single inch before going back to your clit and sucking on it which had your back arching off the mattress as you gripped the bar that held your wrists.

While Suguru was eating you like a man starved, Satoru took the time to grab a mini wand vibrator from the bag turning it on with a mad grin as he bent down to pepper your breasts in wet kisses just like Suguru did a few moments ago.

He swirled his tongue around your nipple before drawing it in his mouth using the wand to place it over your nipple on the lowest setting, you could feel it drawing pleasure from the deepest part of you. “Satoru - Suguru!" You whined wanting more than what they’re giving you.

“What is it, pretty girl?” Suguru asked sitting up now and taking the wand from Satoru to place it on your clit, his lips shone under the dim light from your slick and his own spit, he turned the vibrations up watching you wither on the bed.

It was hard to explain the feeling they gave you, between the intense pleasure that made you feel like you were floating and the way they cooed over you like you were their girl, and maybe part of you wished that you were.

Satoru slid his fingers inside your pussy again finding a slow pace while he grazed your g-spot, he was sure to massage it a few times before curling and scissoring his digits while Suguru circled the blunt end of the wand over your clit.

You tugged on the restraints pouting and pushing your lips out wanting one of them to kiss you, Suguru leaned over slotting his mouth against yours and pushing his tongue inside and swirling his with yours while pressing the wand a bit harder.

Pulses of pleasure thrummed through you with exhilaration, moaning into Suguru’s mouth which he ate before pulling away and looking down at you with a smile. “You’re doing so good for us, can you take more?”

“Yes, I can take whatever you give me.” You replied with a breathy tone, Satoru grinned and held the back of Suguru’s neck pulling him closer and kissing him deeply before pulling away to remove the bar from your bed frame.

Both of them put you in a new position with your head hanging off the bed which Suguru held up kissing you again as he kneeled next to the side of the bed watching Satoru grab the bar and push your legs back again.

“If it gets to be too much pretty girl tap one of us twice.” Suguru reminded you in between kisses as he laid your head down slowly and gently, his cock sprang in your face thick and leaky, you watched him not able to see Satoru anymore from this position.

You nodded and opened your mouth letting Suguru feed his dick into your mouth until he heard gagging, he pulled back a bit and began to rut his hips pumping in and out as you let him, your throat becoming his own personal fucktoy.

Satoru watched the scene entranced by the two of you. He almost forgot what he was doing in the moment, his eyes were blown with lust and desire for you and Suguru. While they knew what they were doing was slimy and gross as hell, lying and manipulating you into liking them, but they didn’t care if it meant having you.

He watched Suguru hold onto the bar pulling your legs back more making it easier for Satoru to hold his shaft and rub his head between your lips, the tip caught the hood of your cunt a few times, and your clit visibly throbbed from being so turned on and the teasing.

Satoru slowly thrust into you holding the bar until he bottomed out feeling you tighten and flutter around him, he looked down at where you two were connected seeing the sticky wet mess and your pussy lips wrapped around his cock so prettily as he patted the bed for the wand grabbing the end and turning it on.

Low vibrations filled the room along with your gargled moans, Suguru looked at your lips swollen and wrapped around the base of his cock with a groan, you hollowed your cheeks meeting his gaze with wet eyes and he swore he could see your pupils turn into hearts.

He glanced at his friend who was still staring at his cock slide in and out of you, it was a sight to see, the way you molded around his dick it was almost like you were meant for him, quickly overstimulation set in from them fucking you and Satoru’s fingers playing with your nipples.

The smell of sex hung heavy in the air permeating everything, you inhaled through your nose deeply before relaxing your throat letting Suguru fuck it harder, his free hand which didn’t hold the bar reached out to grab Satoru’s shoulder pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

You watched their tongues tangle together while both of them fucked you, Satoru’s cock drove deep almost kissing your cervix making you squeal around Suguru’s dick before sucking harder, your tongue curled a bit around his head when he pulled out a bit to give you a break.

“Look at you doing such a good job taking us.” Suguru praised stroking your head with the back of his hand holding the bar in place making it easier for his friend to plant his fists on either side of you while rocking his hips and brushing your clit a few times.

The white-haired man smirked down at you as he tortured you with a slow pace and brought the wand back to your clit. “She really is, huh?” He asked ending the sentence with a broken moan making his friend chuckle while he jerked himself above your head.

Your spit made it easier to do so, the wet sound roared in your ears as he moved closer letting his cum shoot out on your chest and tits which Satoru cleaned up when his head dipped down to lap at the white essence before he pulled you back on the bed all the way.

“Holy fuck.” You muttered watching him while he stopped the movements of his hips as he licked you clean before propping himself up on his elbows and looking at you with a smirk licking his lips.

Suguru parted your lips watching you lean forward to kiss Satoru who spit the cum in your open and waiting mouth, his blue eyes were hazy as he took in the sight of you shiny with his best friend's load.

Before you could say or do anything else Satoru slowly pulled out, you whined at the loss of him then they both worked to remove the bar and cuffs massaging the skin that was surrounded by the fuzz. “You really did so well, but we’re not done yet, pretty girl,” Suguru told you with a smile.

He kissed your open palm staring at you while Satoru worked his fingers around your ankles, then again they both flipped you on your hands and knees with Suguru under you and your legs tucked under you and on either side of him.

He helped you hover above his cock before slowly pushing inside you bottoming out, the stretch was enough to have you clawing at his abs while Satoru pushed you down until your ass was high in the air making it easy to give your left cheek a small swat.

You yelped and jerked forward wrapping your arms around Suguru who held you close to him, your pussy felt so warm and tight he feared he’d cum way too quick for his liking. “Just stay still for us, okay? We should’ve told you to put in a cute little butt plug in before coming over.”

Satoru chuckled and spread your ass cheeks looking where you and his friend were connected with a grin. “I don’t know why we didn’t but I have a little something for you kitten.” He murmured.

You couldn’t see what he was doing but you could hear it, he was looking through the contents of the items on your bed grabbing the lube and plug he washed beforehand. “We know how much you love it, and we’re going to teach you how to take two in one.” Suguru teased nipping at your neck.

The cool gel was applied to your hole as Satoru slowly worked the plug inside your ass watching you open up like a flower, you really were made for them he thought before he slowly slid his finger down to your pussy tracing your lips before pushing it inside alongside Suguru’s cock.

You gasped and threw your head back pushing back against him and letting out a broken moan, they both helped you bounce up and down before Suguru had you sitting up straight to latch onto your nipple while Satoru added another finger.

They both worked in unison stretching you out, Suguru moaned around your tit as he laved it in wet kisses as Satoru kissed and nipped at your shoulders, his free hand pinching your other nipple. “You sure you can take us?” He whispered in your ear.

You nodded letting Suguru wrap his arms around your waist pulling you back down on top of him making it easy for his friend to guide his lubed-up cock against your stretched-out cunt, Satoru slowly slid himself inside you with a low groan in his throat.

All three of you stayed still getting used to the feeling you found Suguru’s mouth in a hot kiss before glancing back at Satoru who already knew what you wanted as he leaned in and kissed you then Suguru.

Then all of you were engaged in a messy kiss, you weren’t sure whose tongue was whose as hazy bliss swam heavy through you, it was hard to keep yourself upright from Satoru and Suguru fucking you dumb like they had planned.

You squeezed your pussy in quick successions grinding your hips down as they gained speed, while Suguru pulled out Satoru thrust back in creating the perfect rhythm thrumming the orgasm that sat in your belly like a guitar string.

With the butt plug it was becoming too much, your cunt spasmed around their cocks throwing your head back howling almost from the climax. “Oh, my God!” You cried out.

“There you go, keep coming for us pretty girl, you’re doing such a good job.” Suguru praised kissing behind your ear filling you up with his own orgasm feeling Satoru pull out while he slowly removed the butt plug taking its place.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan curling your fingers into Suguru’s hair grinding your hips again humping them both riding out your high. “You sound and look so pretty when you cum for us, no other men will ever bring you this much pleasure,” Satoru whispered in your ear.

And he was right, there was no way you could ever be with another man and not think about this with them, the pleasure they single handily gave you was more than you’d ever thought you’d experience in this lifetime.

It wasn’t like they saw you as some sort of toy to keep or trophy to show off even though they planned to do that later, it was the obsession that quickly took hold of them worming into their hearts like ivy on a building

You collapsed on top of Suguru feeling Satoru do the same to you, his chest pressed against your back, all three of you panting and breathing heavily coming down from your highs. Suguru rubbed your shoulders kissing your cheek gently helping you down from the high.

Your brain felt foggy with the orgasms you weren’t left to wonder how they even knew where you lived.

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herjeanjacket · 4 months

Text

She likes how she looks in her denim

#jean jacket #denim #double denim #rolled sleeves #popped collar #denim jacket #collar up

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ghouljams · 4 months

Note

Mmmm, jealous 1870s!cowboy!Soap starting a barfight at the saloon bc a guy was being too pushy with his girl 🤭

You hear the glass break before you actually see Johnny's fist crash into the interloper's jaw. You blink at the booze dripping off the strangers face as he struggles to keep his bearings. There's a dark flash in your regular's eyes, one you can't say you'd ever want to see again. You shrink back against your bar when Johnny looks at you. His jaw twitches with how tight he's got it clenched.

"I'll pay for the glass." He rolls up his sleeves and turns his attention back to the man who's rapidly realizing he's just been struck. "Go fetch the doctor, hen, gonna need 'er," He tells you, nodding towards the door. You nod quickly, just quick enough to assure him before he's grabbing the man by the collar to punch again. The way his fist pulls back is hypnotic; the flex of his back and the tightening of his bicep make you hesitate to leave. The spray of blood when he handily breaks the strangers nose sends you out the door.

The conversation you'd had with the stranger rings through your head as cross the street to grab the town doctor.

"It's my bar," You'd corrected when he'd complimented "your husband's" saloon.

"No man lookin' after you, eh?" He'd smirked over his glass. Your eyes had flicked to Johnny asleep against the bar, his glass untouched next to his folded arms. You'd given him a double, sure he'd worked a long day and promised to bring him a meal as quick as you could. He'd hardly waited for the words to leave your mouth before waving you off to sleep. "Bet you like that," The stranger had said, dragging your attention back to him, "bet a woman like you takes every man she can get her hands on."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You'd scowled.

"It means, whatever your rate is I'll pay it," He'd finished his drink, and tacked on for good measure, "haven't had good pussy in months." Before the glass had broken and Johnny was flying at him.

Duck meets you outside her office as a regular goes flying through the saloon doors behind you. She's already got her bag, hustling past you before you can even give her the situation. You give a quick heel turn to follow her, stepping over the Johnson boy with a half apologetic shrug when he groans and rolls onto his side. Duck holds the door open for you, her mouth in a hard line as you both watch blood drip off Johnny's knuckles.

His chest heaves with breaths as he stands over the unconscious body of the man who'd insulted you. Although you wouldn't recognize the stranger now, you'd guess he's missing a few teeth, and his cheeks puff around a broken jaw. One of his compatriots is strewn over a nearby table with a broken arm slung at an odd angle behind his back. You grimace at the turned over chairs and spilled drinks.

Johnny wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the sweat with the blood on his hand. Duck shakes her head and pushes past him to treat his unconscious victims.

"Fuck did you do to 'im?" The doctor asks, crouching and pulling different gauze and instruments out of her bag.

"Nothin' he didn't deserve," Johnny reasons, rolling his shoulders back with a soft pop and a low groan. Something low in the pit of your stomach clenches tight and warm when he looks over his shoulder at you. You squeeze your hands into fists and push through the chaos to get something high proof for the doctor to clean up with.

"There's a bed upstairs," You tell the room, pouring a tall glass of something clear and strong enough to strip paint, "if you want to finish your nap before the sheriff shows up."

You set the glass on the bar and let yourself meet Soap's eye. He's got a cut bleeding on his brow and a hell of a shiner starting to purple on his cheek, but he smiles at you brilliantly. You look away to find a broom and starting cleaning up his mess. You know he'll find his way to your rooms, and you'll have to pull him out of your bed despite there being plenty of open guest rooms. You know too that later you'll push your face against the pillow and try to find the lingering scent of his soap.

Folks in town know better than to get pushy with you when your dog is around, but strangers always take the gamble.

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assortedseaglass · 4 months

Text

Talk Refined - Chapter One

Michael Gavey x Reader

[Masterlist]

Summary: When Michael Gavey unwittingly insults a fellow Oxford student, they enter into a game of intellectual cat and mouse.

Content Warnings (this chapter in bold): Language, Smut, Saltburn Spoilers

Pool was never your forte. Truth be told, you were more of a darts girl. There was something though, in the soft click of the balls knocking together and the damp thunk of them landing in the pocket that scratched an itch on your over-worked mind.

Hilary term was coming to an end, and with it brought the dread that your extended essay title had been submitted. ‘“For the sake of some colour;” women as decoration, in response to Turner’s High Street, Oxford (1810)””. No going back now.

You’d escaped the January madness that had descended on your best friend, Esme. Like most other courses, she had exams at the start of the new year and spent her days in the library and nights in the pub. Much like now, come to think of it.

“You’re up,” you called to your friend as you missed potting a red. “Esme!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” she shimmied between the pool table and a few pub patrons, taking her cue in hand and leaning over the felt green. Click, thunk. A yellow sank into the corner pocket.

“Who were you talking to?” You indicated a man in his early twenties, eyeing up Esme’s backside as she leant over the table to reach another yellow.

“Bartender,” she missed the ball and passed the cue back over the table. You took it and swiftly potted a red. “Nice one. Just borrowing this,” she lit her cigarette with a metal lighter. When she was done, she tossed it back to the bartender and he winked.

The two of you’d met at a humanities and arts, inter-college social less than two weeks into your first term. Dress as your subject and be ready for a night of frivolity even Elagabalus couldn’t imagine. You’d found some of silk scarves in a charity shop, bought cheap pearls from Primark and gone as the Girl with a Pearl Earring. Outside the Blenheim was where you first spotted her. Dressed in a bedsheet draped as a peplos, she had climbed a lamppost and was swigging wine straight from the bottle. That is a girl I want to be friends with, you’d thought, and promptly beelined for her and begged for the bottle.

“You doing philosophy?” You asked after chugging the cheap merlot.

“Classics. And you, I’m guessing history-”

“History of art, yeah.”

The next morning, you’d woken in her dorm room at Brasenose, the autumn sunlight blinding and your breath smelling as if something had crawled inside you and died there. Esme didn’t mind. Her mouth was stained red from the wine and a hickey the size of Brazil adorned her neck. You’d been inseparable ever since.

“Bollocks,” you missed potting a red and, as Esme swept to grab to pool cue, the pub erupted in song.

“RUBY RUBY RUBY RUBY!”

“Ahah ahah ahaaaaaaaah!” Esme sang the refrain in your ear as she twirled you round, the cue discarded on the table.

“DO YA DO YA DO YA DO YA!?”

“Fuck’s sake,” It was hard not to smile despite your best efforts. You felt like a twat but no-one was looking at you. All were too busy singing to notice the two tipsy girls dancing by the pool table. In any case, the only person whose opinion mattered to you was the one spinning you in her arms. One wayward spin and bumped you into the pool table. Giggling, you opened your arms to be embraced once more-

“Oh shit,” Esme whispered hastily, suddenly standing straight and flattening her hair. “Got any lip gloss?”

“Erm,” you patted your pockets. “No sorry.”

“Damn,”

“Who’ve you seen?” you smirked, standing by your best friend’s shoulder and following her line of sight. Well, it could have been any number of students in the packed pub. There were some rugby lads, double polos with both collars popped. Pretty boy Felix Catton and his posse of poshos. It could have even been that girl Eleanor, now greeting a friend at the bar. Esme and Eleanor hooked up at the Brasenose Christmas party. Esme said it was “unexpected” and “not her usual flavour”, but you’d met her once after tutorial, and the way she looked at her tutor’s bottom as it wiggled down the corridor in her Peacock’s pencil skirt was not one of envy. “Well?” You asked impatiently. “Who is it?”

“There, blue check shirt, dark hair.” Esme pointed at the bar where such a man was standing. Two pints of lager in hand, he turned and seemed to look around the pub. “Cute, isn’t he? He’s at Brasenose too, doing English I think.”

“Oh right.” As a Wadham girl, you had never seen this boy before. You supposed he was quite good-looking, in a boy-next-door sort of way. You thought perhaps he would be bonny, were it not for the solemn expression on his face. He meandered through the crowd to a small table at which sat another boy.

The two were starkly different. Where Esme’s boy was dark haired, the other was fair. Esme’s boy was stocky, but even sat down the other was gangly, and while Esme’s boy clearly wasn’t an avid reader of Esquire, the blond boy looked like he’d rolled around Oxfam’s bargain bin in total darkness and worn whatever stuck; a pair of baggy cargo shorts pulled up far too high and cinched tightly with a black belt, a pair of Merrell trainers and a novelty tshirt. THIS IS HOW I ROLL. Below the wording was an anagram and equation.

If it weren’t for the middle-aged glasses and frankly atrocious haircut, he’d be quite good looking too. Two Oxford virgins; Trinny and Susannah’s wet dream.

“What’s his name then?”

“Oliver, I think.” Esme was licking her lips and fussing with her bangles.

“You look great,” you swatted at her hand. “And the other one?”

“No idea. They’re always hanging around together. Oliver,” she said his name with some uncertainty. “Oliver never says anything, the other one’s always talking a mile a minute but I haven’t really seen him about. Doesn’t go to any parties.”

“Him and the girl with-”

“Agoraphobia.” You said in unison. The characters of Esme’s college were more vivid to you now than those in a Dickens novel.

“I bet he does maths,”

“I told you, he does English.”

“No,” you tut. “The other one.”

“I reckon it’s physics.”

“Put a pint on it?”

“You’re on,” Esme smacked your hip. “Come on, there’s a table by the bar.”

Following the plume of her cigarette smoke, Esme led you to the sticky wooden table and ordered you a pint of Thatchers. She, a pint of Stella. At the table beside you both, Maybe Oliver and The Other One were talking quickly. Well, the maths-slash-physics boy was. Maybe Oliver was staring distractedly towards the other end of the pub. You looked over your shoulder. Felix Catton was settling down with another round of beers, his stupid eyebrow piercing gleaming in the low pub lights.

“Swap with me,” Esme whispered.

“What?”

“Swap with me so I can look at Oliver.”

You sighed and stood up, shuffling round the table to sit parallel to Oliver. Esme smiled at him as she sat down and he smiled back. When she giggled, you kicked her under the table. Now across from maths-slash-physics, you could see him clearly.

This close, you stood by your assessment that he could have been handsome. His light eyes were framed by not just those hideous glasses but thick, dark lashes. He had a jawline and cheekbones that would make Agyness Deyn jealous. His lips, though strangely curved were plump, and he had a distracting habit of frequently wetting them. But there was something so distinctly and undefinably creepy about him. He talked like a snake, quickly with hissed “s”s and “t”s. You noticed with unease that he barely blinked as he watched for any minutia in his friend’s reaction, and he moved with an almost jerky stiffness. All elbows and angles. This strange combination of beautiful and revolting made him impossible to ignore. Like catching yourself in the mirror after dying your hair. A strange feeling of the uncanny.

He caught your eye, sensing you staring at him, and you quickly glanced at Esme. Shit. She’d been talking to you about something.

“-of course, it’s easy to compare the Iliad and the Aeneid, but really they’re very different.”

Aha. She was trying to impress, hoping Maybe Oliver would hear. “Oh yes?” You leant forward on your arm and wiggled your eyebrows at her. “Tell me more.”

Esme was clearly delighted that you’d cottoned on to her plan. Brushing her hair from her shoulders and leaning forward too, she continued. “Well, you have to start with the language. One is Greek and one is Latin. Now, we go through this in linguistics. Everyone has to get up to speed with their Greek and Latin so we’re all on the same level-”

You giggled and she kicked you under the table. Esme knew you already knew this and didn’t care. You knew that Esme was just showboating. When you kicked her back she got the giggles and glanced at Maybe Oliver. His eyes were still trained on the back of the pub, and she sighed, taking a gulp of beer. In perfect symmetry, you drank your cider and in the lull you admired the lengths your friend went to flirt with a seemingly average boy.

“-Jameson spends the whole time staring at her tits, completely ignoring the fact she can barely do her times tables.”

Esme choked a little on her drink and your eyebrows shot upwards with barely contained glee. This was far more interesting. You and Esme watched each other, communing telepathically about the intriguing conversation between the boys next to you.

“-times tables, Oliver!”

“Told you it was maths!” You whispered at Esme. Without a word, she got up with a smile to buy you another pint.

“-just fuck off and do history of art, love, save us all the trouble!”

You stilled in your seat, cider halfway to your lips. Did he just-? You ran the sentence over in your mind. “Fuck off and do history of art, love, save us all the trouble.” It wasn’t the first time you’d encountered snobbery about your selected study. Friends from school deemed it “hoity-toity,” and even your parents had worried about your career prospects.

“But what can you actually do with a history of art degree?”

You’d thought Oxford would be different. Surrounded by other young minds, eager for knowledge and an appreciation of the world around them, freshly opened up like your first bottle of champagne; long-awaited, exciting and with a little bit of bite. Just for the adults.

“Excuse me?” Your heart was pounding in your chest as you leant over a little and smiled at the pair of boys. You were proud of your subject but that eagerness to prove its, and your, worth was impossible to ignore. Oliver and Maths Boy looked at you. “Do you,” you cleared your throat. “What’s wrong with history of art?”

The gangly boy scoffed and turned rigidly in his chair to face you. Like most other nerds, you’d expected him to shy away from anyone outside of his carefully selected circle. This boy, however, seemed to take up an enormous space in your mind. He was confident. Already taken aback by his vicious comment, that threw you even more.

“What’s wrong with it? It’s an easy option that’s become an elitist haven for the middle class.” He pushed his glasses up his long nose with a bony finger. “You ever met any of those ‘students’?” He put air quotes around that last word and you flinched, neck bristling with anger. You doubt he’d have noticed if you put your top over your head and did the Cupid Shuffle; he continued as if nothing happened.

“Load of public-school wankers spouting their useless opinions on aristocrats lounging about in gilded frames, just so they can justify getting a job in daddy’s gallery. It’s an irrelevant, niche subject for people who think their view of the world is superior to us mere plebs’.”

“Michael,” Oliver murmured. He turned to you, not quite looking you in the eye. “Sorry-”

“Here’s your pint,” Esme placed another Thatchers before you. Both you and “Michael” ignored your friends.

“You think it’s irrelevant?” You took a swig of cider without taking your eyes off him. Angry little prick, this fella. You knew the like; maths, physics, economics, law. The students were all the same. Thinking they were better than everyone else because they could swan off into the sunset with £40k job straight out of uni and reap the benefits that the arts provided them without any need to know better. The designer clothes and fast cars, the beautiful buildings they worked in, the nails on the woman ripping open the condom wrapper…

“What’s irrelevant?” Esme said brightly. She held out her hand for Oliver. “Esme, hi.”

“Oliver-”

“History of art, apparently.” You said haughtily.

“Ouch. Who said that?” Esme sat down beside you, still smiling at Oliver.

“Michael.”

“Who’s Michael?”

“Michael Gavey.” The man in question announced himself by extending a long arm in Esme’s direction. She shook his with slight shock and raised her eyebrows at Oliver. He lowered his head in shame.

“Our girl here’s a history of art student.” Esme patted your hand. If you, Esme and Oliver expected this to soften Michael, it didn’t work.

“Ah,” he smiled, mirth lighting his eyes. “That’s why you’re so tetchy. Which school was it then? Cheltenham? Roedean?”

“She went to state comp actually,” Ever your champion, Esme came to your defence.

“Scholarship student?” Michael sneered.

“No,” you rebuffed quickly.

“What’s wrong with that? Me and Oliver here are.”

“Nothing You were the one trying to get me to say it was.”

Michael smiled with satisfaction and an awkward silence fell between the four of you. The clink of glasses and drunken chatter continued around you. This wasn’t the first charged student encounter that had happened in this pub, nor would it be the last.

“I suppose you think maths is superior?” You folded your arms and raised an eyebrow. A challenge. Prove it then.

“Of course it is,”

It was your turn to scoff. “Why can’t there be room for both?”

“There is room for both. Mathematics is just more important.”

“Jesus,” Oliver rubbed his hands over his face.

“Mathematics is the foundation for everything. The modern world as we know it wouldn’t exist without it. Technology, healthcare, finance, governance, everything. It prevents chaos. Without mathematics, society would collapse.” He fidgeted in his chair to turn more vividly towards you, his hands excitedly grasping for something in front of him that didn’t exist. Maths, probably. “We create predictions and complex design systems so that life as we know it can exist, and continue to exist.”

He looked at you as though you should have been impressed. You supposed his excitement was quite sweet. In truth, you knew maths was important. History of art student though you were, you weren’t an idiot. You were at one of the world’s top universities for God’s sake.

“But what’s the point of existing if there’s nothing to enjoy? To live for?”

“Pardon?” What had he expected? For you to roll over and kiss his feet? Take him round the back of the pub for a quick knee tremble? “Oh yes, Michael, tell me more about Fermat’s conjecture! More! More!”

“Art is what makes life worth living for. Its history helps us understand politics, religions, societies and peoples of the past.”

“All that from staring at a Bruegels?” Michael looked at Oliver with a laugh, hoping for back up. Oliver was tearing up a beer mat.

“Yes!”

“Well, it’s never done anything for me.”

His arrogance and ignorance was astounding. This final comment was the drop that sent you overflowing with exasperation. “Yes it has,” you snapped. Michael glared at you. “Aside from what I literally just said, art has done everything for you. Take today for example.”

At this, Michael sat forward. He couldn’t resist a reasoned argument with concrete evidence.

“You woke up this morning at Brasenose, is it?” He nodded. “At Brasenose, in a dorm with Carol Vorderman posters on the walls, posters designed by graphic designers who studied art. Those posters line the walls of a building almost five hundred years old. From barely known architects to Powell and Moya, each added to its history with their extensive understanding of art and beauty. For some reason you then got up and decided to put on that God awful tshirt which, although many would believe otherwise, was designed to be aesthetically pleasing or visually arresting. The latter it certainly is. There you go. Art.” You were on a role.

“I’m assuming you had lectures or tutorial today? The book you read? The covers were made by, you guessed it, artists. You came here with Oliver and decided to get a craft beer because you’re a pretentious prick, and got the darker of the two because, and I agree with you here, the label is prettier. You’re gonna go home in an hour or two when you’ve had one too many pints and ogled that pretty girl at the bar,” you pointed at Eleanor. “Whose thong caught your eye above her low rises. Fashion? That’s art by the way and extremely influential on society ‘as we know it’.” You quoted him back and loved the way his lips quirked into a tight line.

“And thinking of her and her pretty thong, you’ll whack out ZOO mag and whack out a swift one over some big-titted page three girl in a pair of lace knickers that were designed by someone with a fashion degree. Art.”

Esme and Oliver stared at you. A manic, self-satisfied smile was plastered on your face, and when you downed your pint to cool down from the warmth that outpouring had exerted, Oliver actually smiled. Michael said nothing. Did nothing. He was entirely, utterly unreadable. You wanted to smack him.

He glanced from you to Esme, to Oliver and at last to his pint. Like you had done, he picked it up, finish it in three gulps and placed it back on the table. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus.” What the fuck was he talking about? He spoke to his friend as if you and Esme had ceased to exist. “Going for a slash. Get me another pint please, Oliver? Thanks.” He stood from his chair, unfurling like a stick insect, and made purposefully for the gents’.

Your mouth fell open. Esme chuckled nervously. “He’s a charmer,” she said to Oliver.

“Yeah, ‘scuse,” he muttered, shuffling awkwardly to the bar.

You both sat in your chairs, baffled silence befalling of you. “Well, no double dates for us then.” Esme said.

You laughed. “No date for you fullstop.”

“Yeah,” Esme glanced at the bar where Oliver was now waving at someone. You watched as he made his way over to Felix Catton and his friends. “Bit dull, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Oliver sat down as the rest of the posho’s table cheered. “Though if he’s friends with Felix Catton…?”

“Didn’t realise you were so shallow?” Esme teased.

“I’m not! But the parties, Esme, the parties!”

“I know, I know, I’ll remember that Christmas one forever. Oh God, here he comes,” Esme shrank in her seat. Michael was weaving through the crowd back towards the table.

“Why isn’t he going to sit with Felix and Oliver?” You whispered. “He better not be coming back here.”

You and Esme watched as his approached slowed, faltering when he noticed Oliver and his pint were missing. He glanced around, looking at his feet as if to find Oliver on the floor. It was painful. Watching the realisation dawn on his face. You and Esme knew it before he did.

A hand raised in the air; he had spotted Oliver at Felix’s table. You watched, with pity and embarrassment, as Michael waved and Oliver turned away.

“Shit,” Esme said.

Hand moving to push up his glasses, Michael, with head hung low, left.

“Shit,” Esme said again. “Bet you feel like a bitch for shouting at him now.”

And despite his pomp and arrogance, his cynicism and creepiness, you really did feel awful.

Notes: The amount of research I did for this was wholly unnecessary. Added some links because 2006/2007 was quite a place. The script hit me like a fucking train. It says, “Back with Michael: CRUSHED.”

Many thanks to @thecruel for their help with the transcript of the Saltburn pub scene, and to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for the Michael Gavey inspo, your headcanons are always spot on.

Tags: @lexwolfhale* @theoneeyedprince @lovebittenbyevans @fan-goddess @ellrond @very-straight-blog @arcielee @tsujifreya @liv-cole @myfandomprompts @annoyingkittydetective* @elizarbell @solisarium @thekinslayersswordhand @nightdiamond8663* @slowlysparklyninja* @kate-to-the-ki @bellaisasleep @xxxkat3xxx @lacebvnny @moonriseoverkyoto @ewanmitchellcrumbs @moonlightfoxx @pendragora @aemonds-holy-milk @st-eve-barnes @sapphire-writes @babyblue711 @targaryenrealnessdarling @slytherincursebreaker @bottlesandbarricades @valeskafics @anjelicawrites @exitpursuedbyavulcan @barbieaemond @chattylurker @itbmojojoejo @humanpurposes @cyeco13 @heimtathurs @in-a-mountain-pool

*could not tag

#ewan mitchell #michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #ewan mitchell x reader #emerald fennell

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flowery-laser-blasts · 3 months

Text

The girls brought their boys to the Oh Boyz reunion concert.

"Ron, grab that USB before Drakken can install it into his doomsday device" "On it KP!" Ron tries to get to the work desk and trips slamming face first onto the surface causing office supplies to fall all over the place. Drakken runs over and grabs one of the two scattered -almost identical looking- USBs and plugs it into the device "HA! I'll take that, thank you! And now, behold the power of--" "HEY IS THAT 'I WANT IT MY WAY'?!" "Errr... No, it's not what you think--"

Shego and Kim pause their battle, watching the two men go from bickering to singing in no time. Turns out this doomsday device can double as a mega surround sound stereo speaker instalation set.

Ron starts talking about how they saved the Oh Boyz once and that Rufus is their new manager.

Kim thinks and offers a deal "If you hand us the USB, you two can come with us to the Oh Boyz reunion concert." "DEAL!" Shego almost hurts her neck when she snaps her head in Drakken's direction "WHAT?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!" Drakken picks up the USB from the ground and hands it to Kim, he waves the two teens off.

The moment they leave the lair, Shego grabs Drakken by the collar. "Do you have any idea how annoyingly tedious it was for me to get that stupid USB for you?!" "Up-pupup Shego, I did in fact make a backup this morning" "You wha-?" Drakken opens the desk drawer to reveal hundreds upon hundreds of identical looking micro SD chips. "Now if you can help me find out which one of these chips contain-- Shego?" Shego slams the lab door closed behind her.

"Shego? What a coincidence!" Junior lays down on the sunchair next to her. "Junior? What are you doing here in Middleton of all places? Don't you have your own, I don't know, indoor house spa?" "Ah yes, but my lovely girlfriend Bonnie has cheerleader practice right now and I thought, why not broaden my horizon -like they say- and try out the spas of the common folk. You look upset, what's on your mind?"

Shego regretfully tells Junior about what happened this morning and Junior, in his excitement, almost instantaneously heads over to school.

Junior begs Kim and Ron to please bring him and Bonnie along with them to the Oh Boyz concert. "BUT WE WERE GOING TO THE CARIBBEAN ISLANDS FOR THE WEEKEND JUNIOR! YOU'RE SO RICH, YOU CAN EASILY BUY THE OH BOYZ FOR A PRIVATE CONCERT!" "But my darling! I want to experience the real pop idol experience! I need to know what it is to be amongst the fans, so I can understand what it feels like to them. That way I'll become a more understanding teen pop idol sensation! It's like, what you call it; homework, yes?" "Ugh... FINE! Alright Kim, you take care of everything, we'll take care of transport. I am NOT going to go there by cab. "

And thus all six of them ended up at the concert.

The boys: absolutely starstruck (Drakken eventually gave up on finding the chip.)

The girls:

- Bonnie doesn't like being amongst 'common folk', sure she would've loved this a few months ago, but now that she's dating one of the richest guys in the world. This has become dull.

- Kim pulled some strings with Rufus, asking for a favor to make this night unforgettable for the guys.

- Shego is confused as to why the Oh Boyz songs sound oh so familiar to some other boyband she used to hear on the radio when she was in college.

#kim possible #dr drakken #drakken #shego #drdrakken #kimpossible #dr. drakken #ronstoppable #ron stoppable #señior senior junior #señior senior jr #senior senior junior #bonnie rockwaller #hego #oh boyz #kim possible oh boyz #the oh boyz #ohboyz #oh boyz!

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undercoverpena · 8 months

Text

epilogue. she might just be my everything and beyond

javier peña x f!reader | epilogue of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: here's the epilogue. two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. mention of olivia (steve's and connie's child) ✨ wordcount: 2.7k.

an: at the end.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

you keep flirting with me and ill drive myself over

Oh will you now?

use my key and everything

You have had very little reason to use it lately.

thats cause youre so desperate youre already at the door

Desperate or welcoming?

both

I can be less desperate next time, if you prefer.

dont you fucking dare baby

So when you coming over?

already putting my shoes on

It flies by, time.

One minute, he’s clutching your hands until your fingers slide from his. A promise in the air, one he knows you’ll keep because it's all temporary. Knowing that you’ll be right back, suitcase—and possessions following behind—as you move across the country.

Within a blink, Javi is asking you where you want things to go, in the little place you chose with so much ease. Spotting you unpack a photo frame, the photo strip from Houston front and centre, sitting on a bed of receipts.

The next, he’s sweating for reasons he’d rather not be.

His back twinging, protesting as he carries another box to the van. Your smile rises at the sight of him approaching, gesturing to pass it to you—still standing on the edge of the truck.

“Cariño. You’ve lived here six months. How have you amassed so much sh–tuff?”

Narrowing your eyes, taking the box and placing it on top of another, “Nice save.”

Sending you a sink, he smiles as you slide your hand in his to get down. Knowing he doesn’t ever need to feel them slide from his again—hopefully, no emotional goodbyes at the airport. Not ones that don’t involve you visiting someone for a long weekend here or there.

“Are you forgetting that I packed an entire suitcase the first time I saw you? Because knowing that information, I am surprised you’re confused that I’ve doubled my possessions since living here?”

Pulling you close, he focuses on how you feel warm against him—fitting against him perfectly. A feeling he’s had plenty of time to grow used to but finds he never does. How you slot with him, face turned upwards, looking at him like he moves mountains and walks across fire.

If you asked him, he would.

But you never do. You just look at him as though you know he would. Knowing he does.

He supposes it’s why you’re all set to move in with him. Into his home. His room.

This place—as lovely as it has been—will no longer be yours. The little home in the centre of town is tucked away above a video store that you’ve become a frequent customer of, whether he has plans with you or not.

From tomorrow morning, though, you’ll be waking up with him officially. The two of you have had months of it, where you’re there but not entirely with him. Even if, over time, your things have been left amongst his, some even finding themselves hanging alongside his. To the point a drawer was needed—and hangers. Still, for a while, when you said home, you had meant yours.

That was until the last few weeks. Your eyes shimmering, twinkling with the stars in the night sky, curled into his side. His green jacket, the one with the brown collar, wrapped around your shoulders, no longer smelled of old cigarette smoke and desperation but rather sweetness and hope. Your hand entwined with his:

Can we go home, baby?

Yeah, I can take you now.

No, to yours.

You poke him. Light, but purposeful. A little jab to bring him back, and the way you’re smiling at him—fuck. He can’t imagine a look that could make his heart double in size quicker. His thumb strokes alongside your cheek. His pink shirt—the one you had commandeered as your own—rolled up at the sleeves and tied at your waist.

Javi’s noticed you steal his clothes a lot. Fashion them into something that suits you better. He doesn’t moan. If anything, he makes it a purposeful thing to show you how much it means to him—how much he likes it, craves it.

“C’mon, only a few more boxes...”

Groaning, he buries his lips against yours, feeling your smile widen, grinning widely against him as you hold him close.

Your teeth pull at his bottom lip before releasing it with a pop, a twinkle to your eyes. “… think of it like this: once the van is packed, we get more time to say goodbye before I have to return the keys.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles, keeping you in place with two fingers under your chin. “And how do you plan on us saying goodbye, baby?”

Sliding your nose against his cheek. “Loudly. I plan on saying it loud, baby.”

You packed me a note in my lunch?

I did

It wasn’t very safe for work.

you said you eat your lunch at your desk

Yes but I’m not a loner, Javi. I do eat lunch with people.

lesson learned then baby

But yes.

yeah?

I don’t think the porch table will cope though, may have to think of a more stable surface.

I think I can think of something

No wood! I am not having you pick splinters out of my ass again, baby.

that was on you

I think it was on you and your speech about how beautiful I looked being a ranch-hand.

Do you fancy coming to my office Halloween party?

do I have to dress up

Yes. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll be dressed up too.

before I decide what are you dressing up as

That’s the incentive to come, if you say yes I’ll tell you.

do you want me there

Yes! Want to show you off

then ill be there baby

Because you like being showed off?

yes. but also because you want me there

While outwardly, he’d protested the trip to Miami from the moment you booked it off work up until he was sat beside you on the place, he does see the beauty in it.

Although, Javi primarily suspects that it is down to you. You with your legs out, you in a bikini on the beach, robbing his shades until he buys you your own—a matching pair, something that makes Steve chuckle and Connie aww.

The lazy mornings that remind him of Houston are nice, too. The ones where neither of you are woken by an alarm or his Pop’s awful singing. The backdrop of the airy hotel room and a warm, gentle breeze blowing the sheer curtains as his thumbs dig into the back of your thighs and make you chant, is a bonus.

Because Javi can make your skin glisten, and your body sing, whenever and wherever he gets the chance.

What he can’t have at home with you is the sight of you fitting in so easily with the two people who have become a second family. The ones who have seen him go to lengths he hadn't known was possible, him and his old partner seeing things that only appear in occasional nightmares now.

Connie and Steve welcomed you in with ease and with them, you smiled so effortlessly. Blending in like you were always there—laughter bursting out of you when you’re playing with Olivia.

It's there, ever-present on the beach, as you chase Olivia around in the sand. The castles the two of you had been making long since trodden on, as the little girl squeals and squeals until she’s caught.

“You should marry her.”

Turning his head, Steve nods towards the three of you. Connie snapping photos as you roll in the sand. The yellow tinge from his aviators adds an additional glow to the world as he eyes up his former partner-turned-friend—a friend who apparently now gives unwarranted marriage advice.

Scratching his chin, he rolls his jaw. “You giving me permission, Murph?”

“C’mon, Jav. She’s nice, good to you. Clearly makes you very fuckin’ happy.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe I’m already planning it.”

“Yeah? Fuck. Can’t wait to tell Connie. She told me I needed to convince you.”

Javi shrugs, pushing the glasses up his nose. “It so hard to believe I’d have come to that conclusion on my own?”

“Before you met her? Yeah. Since her? No. Could tell you were smitten—”

Snorting, Javi runs his hand across his chin. “I was not fucking smitten.”

“Yeah, you fucking was. No shame in that, Jav. No shame in enjoying one good woman.”

Groaning, he turns back to the laughter. The corner of his lips twitched, wishing to slide into his cheeks as he watches you throw your head back, neck exposed, as Olivia tries to do a handstand.

“I got the ring last month.”

“Shit.”

Turning his head, he narrows his eyes, watching Steve put his hands up in defence.

“You just said—“

“Yeah, well. Forgot how determined y’can be about things. Surprised me. S’not a bad thing,” Steve says. “Just, y’know. Years ago, I knew you as the man who fucked his way through—“

Elbowing him, Javi smirks as he hears Steve splutter. A sharp look added as Steve holds his hand up.

“I’m not that person anymore, Murphy.”

His friend nods, apology falling. The evidence that he means it stitching into his expression—that he was just joking, teasing. An explanation coming, that he knows how he’s changed—all words he would have once craved hearing. But since meeting you, he’d found even the teasing didn’t upset him as much.

Clapping his hand on his shoulder, Javi looks over his shades. “I know. Alright. Just, I don’t like the reminder, that's all. Feels like… feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Y’telling me.”

Snorting, Javi slides his hand off. Moving his eyes back to the sight of Olivia grinning at the two of them. Her small hand trying to cover her mouth as she whispers something to you, something which Javi suspects involves him from the way she’s running full speed towards him.

“She’s grown up so quickly.”

He’s about to reply, but Olivia interrupts—skidding to a stop in the sand, kicking it across his feet. Swiftly, her hand—all small and delicate—wraps around and tugs on his hand.

“Uncle Javi, can you come play?”

Over the top of her, he spots you. Leaning your weight on one side, hand covering your brows to watch his expression.

And fuck, how can he say no to either of you.

hows pops?

He’s good. In fact, enough to be getting your Mom’s cookbooks down from the shelf for me.

I hope you know thats him saying he loves you

He has told me how much it means to him that I wanted these. Also keeps telling me that he’s happy they’ll be staying in the family.

bet that made you cry didn’t it

Yes! Obviously.

youre so cute baby

In my defence he caught me off guard with the comment, I was busy staring and deciphering the handwritten notes.

not gonna be able to read them now if youve cried all over them

As always, you’re hilarious. I obviously didn’t cry into the book! I cried in the bathroom.

you turn the tap on to try and hide it again

Shut up, Javi.

i should be back soon, just grabbing the parts now

Don’t rush, he’s fine. Promise. He even says his back is barely giving him any problems since I told him I’d cook from the book.

what you cooking?

Come home safe and find out.

youre such a tease

Learned it from you baby.

At one stage, Javi had been good with people.

Persuasive.

Now, he’s unsure if he even knows how to ask for a favour without giving something up or flirting.

He’s still charismatic, or so you tell him. But, he's pretty sure his tact has gone, impatience bubbling as he tries to pretend to give enough of a shit to be able to ask for the favour he wants.

For you, he decides to push through. To not walk back through the door he came through. He does stuff his hands into his jacket, the man staring at him, still wearing the same confused expression he had when Javi first stepped through the door.

Because even if he’s explained three fucking times, the man still doesn’t understand why he asked him to create the crossword he’s got clutched in his hands.

The one that would never even go to print—just a single request. A favour. All personal, just for him. Not to be published in every newspaper, but just one.

The one for him, and him alone.

It didn't matter how many ways he explained it, the man remained confused. Only reluctantly accepting, he's sure, to get him to leave.

That had been days ago. Now, you're ahead of him. Your fingers brushing over the tops of long stands, occasionally looking over your shoulder at him, making him feel like he's stepped into one of the movies you've made him watch.

Even when you look ahead, he can tell you’re grinning from behind—taking the view in. It's 'one of your favourites', something you’d told him the first time he brought you here.

It’s why he brought you here, now.

Second to you, of course, baby.

You stop some distance ahead, beginning to place down a blanket, all chequered and soft, as he comes to join you. Placing the basket in his hand down on the edge of it, before your fingers are swatting at him and undoing the ties before you grasp the bottle, food and other bits.

Not that he can eat, needing more than what the wine you’d grabbed would do.

Nerves bubbling, dancing and fluttering like the flies further down the hill. You don't notice. You're focused on the newspaper, the crossword he's not let you see for the last few hours, taunting you, making you wait.

He almost wishes he hadn't when it adds to the knot in his stomach, it tightening more when you become irritated at his coyness as he's reading out the clues—

Javi, what are you up to? You always do down, across, down. Always.

You’d have made a good detective or DEA agent.

Likely given him and Murphy a run for their money—something Steve had even said to you both when the two of you were in Miami. Sand in your toes, sea air in your hair—grin brighter than the sun.

“Give it here,” you say, not sharply, but not playfully either.

His hand wipes his lower mouth, hiding his smirk, having wanted you to do that for the past fifteen minutes.

When you take the crossword, you’re chewing.

Distracted, barely able to spot him sliding the remainder of your punnet from reach. Because Javi remembers how you feel about being asked any critical questions when you are eating.

He supposes it's the one benefit of you making him watch so many romcoms. It allowed him to do market research and ask questions without raising your suspicion, such as where wouldn't you like to be asked and if you want him down on one knee.

Mainly, I don’t want to have food in my teeth when I’m being asked. Don't want to spit any leftovers at you in my shock.

“Hey,” he whispers, stealing your attention—watching you smile, glancing at your clean teeth. “Eres preciosa.”

Your lips slide, curling up into your cheek. “You’re such a flirt, Peña.”

Kissing your cheek, he keeps his arm around you. Fingers playing with the fabric on your hip—balling it up before smoothing it out. Thumb and index brushing, calming, soothing him as your eyes glance over the page.

Occasionally, asking him things, avoiding the clues he desperately wants you to solve.

Until.

Fuck, until.

“Javi.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles, pretending indifference, head tilted down, resting his chin on your shoulder—knowing from the high-pitched way you said this name that you’ve already cracked it.

Your fingers slide over the paper, smothering the white and black boxes from view. “Javi?”

“Yes, baby.”

“I think that’s my reply, isn’t it?”

Lips curling, he wraps his fingers around your chin, turning you to face him. Watching it happen in slow motion, how you smile before you grin—tears all but filling your eyes as you clearly try not to get ahead of yourself.

“You wanna make me less lonely, cariño?”

Swallowing, you drop the paper. Let it fall to the blanket, twisting your body until your knees are between his thighs as you take both sides of his cheeks.

“Sí.”

“Sí?”

Nodding, a tear falls. It's one shimmering with joy and happiness, his thumb swiping it, spreading it across your skin.

“I don’t know… I don’t know the translation,” you laugh, it spluttering, fingers stroking his skin. “But I’ll marry you. I love you. Yes, Javi.”

And he whispers it.

The translation. Pressing it, as well as I love you, to your lips as his arms snake further around your waist. Hearing you, all quiet, it almost buried in kisses, repeating the translation back.

Before he falls backwards into the grass, with you on top of him—his fiancé. His world.

you fancy coming to laredo in autumn

Any particular reason?

been told I need a best man and I only know you

an: gosh, here we are. i began writing late night texts one night after a chaotic chat with @guyfieriii because i was manic/sad/anxious all at once and it was the only logical thing i could focus on. as much as javi and reader saved one another, they saved me too. thank you to you lovely lot. not only did you welcome this in with open arms, but you cheered me on every single week (also, btw, how cool is it we didn't miss a single week omg). i owe you so much, and i cannot believe we made it here together. to the old followers, i see you. to the new ones who just discovered me, hey, welcome. to all of the friends I've harrassed over the last few months, i love you. to the new ones I've made, i also love you omg. i'm already missing this pair so much, and i cannot wait until we get to hang out with them sporadically. i'm going to go cry in a corner, but just know my heart is so full and so happy and it's all down to you all 🩷

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

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sheisjoeschateau · 2 months

Text

“Oh, so do WE love Steve…” | Part VIII

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER VII WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, more angst, mentions of death, injuries, Max in a coma, fearful tears, shared sadness, end-of-the-world terror talk, tough conversations and brutal honesty, jealousy and regrets. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not a super action packed chapter, but we unpack a lot in this one. Sh*t gets addressed that needs to be addressed. Dr. Owens delivers some hard news. Robin to the rescue, big time, for her platonic soulmate with a capital P. Platonic Stobin in full swing. Eddie still has no chill, but is the zany friend that everyone needed. Eddie & Robin bonding. Argyle becomes a therapist. Nancy faces some hard truth. Jonathan faces harder truth. Jopper being the ever-observant grandparents. Murray being Murray. Steve and Bauman Squared are more in love than ever. And the kids? Little legends.

ANOTHER LONG ONE. AGAIN: PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“Dislocated the shoulder, but no break. Popping it back into place isn’t going to be a picnic, but it’s way better than a break. So we’re off to a great start. Let’s take a look at your ribs now…”

Dr. Owens had you seated on the edge of the bed in Joyce and Hopper’s room downstairs. Murray, Steve and Robin all stood nearby, alongside them. They all watched anxiously.

Argyle and Eddie were on kid/teen duty. They made sure to keep them out of the room, which they managed to convince them of by going upstairs to sit with Max and read to her out loud.

You hissed as Dr. Owens made contact with your ribcage, and he frowned. “Possible fracture there. Good news is, if they were broken, you’d be on the ground in pure misery. They might even just be really badly bruised.”

You sighed. “I’m good with that.

Murray felt both relieved and frustrated at the same time. God, he hated doctors. Especially ones who served as double agents for the government. But Dr. Owen’s had more than proven himself to be trustworthy, so your uncle was putting up with him. For your sake, especially. You were basically the only kid he was ever gonna have.

“Best bet is to rest, ice them regularly and let them heal for about six weeks.”

You frowned. “Not so good with that.”

“Welp, you’re gonna have to be,” your uncle told you. Steve and Hopper nodded. You huffed, and Steve was selfishly grateful to know that you would have no choice but to stay home and out of danger.

“Alright, let’s check that heartbeat, shall we?” Dr. Owens asked with a smile. He took out his stethoscope, placing the instrument inside of his ears and blowing hot air onto the cold circle that would be placed over your heart. You brought the collar of your shirt down so that he could place it on your chest, and he listened closely while you waited.

Dr. Owens' smile slowly faded, and a prominent crease began to form between his brows. Robin clocked it, along with Steve. Hopper tried not to react, but Joyce’s fidgeting definitely gave it away.

“W-what’s wrong?” Joyce asked, unable to help herself.

Dr. Owens just held up a finger, politely gesturing for them to wait. You furrowed your brow, suddenly aware of the fact that something seemed to be the matter.

Steve swallowed, unblinking. What now…

Murray was not happy at the tension in the air, looking over at Joyce anxiously.

Dr. Owens eventually cleared his throat, pulling the stethoscope out of his ears with a deep inhale. He looks at you kindly, eyes solemn. You stare back, questioning.

“Well, umm…it’s normal. Not surprising, given the electric shock, but uh…your heartbeat’s not at its normal steady rhythm.”

Robin heard Steve suck in a breath, placing a hand on his forearm as they all looked at Dr. Owens.

“Cardiac arrhythmias is normal in these cases,” he tells you. “A heart arrhythmia occurs when the electrical signals that tell the heart to beat don't work properly. The heart may beat too fast or too slow. Or the pattern of the heartbeat may be inconsistent. A heart arrhythmia may feel like a fluttering, pounding or racing heartbeat. Some heart arrhythmias cases are harmless. Most, in fact.”

“Well, what about this one?” your uncle asked, voice grave.

Dr. Owens sighed. “Too soon to tell,” he said apologetically. “But it’s important that it remains monitored.”

“What do we do.” …Steve’s question sounded more like a statement, laced with worry and dangerously voice low.

Dr. Owens looked at him sympathetically. “I can get a prescription that will help. An antiarrhythmic medication. No surgery is needed unless it’s severe. It might not be.”

“How can you tell?” Joyce asked, worriedly. “I mean – what are the signs that we need to look for?”

“Fainting, chest pain, dizziness.” Then, to you, “If you feel like the heart is fluttering, or leaping inside of your chest, definitely make note of it. Scale it, 1-10, how bad it is. Be honest with yourself. Don’t tell yourself you’re more fine than not, and vice-versa. Don’t let it panic you, but just…stay alert.”

Steve wanted to pull every single one of his perfect hairs out. How the hell was that supposed to help? What happens if you wound up passed out on the floor, dead before they would get you proper help?

“Yeah, but what if — w-what if —”

That's all that Steve could mutter. Robin squeezed his forearm tighter, masking her own fear as she gnawed at her bottom lip relentlessly. Murray stared at Dr. Owens, visibly upset. Hopper looked pale, along with Joyce.

“How fast can you get us that medication?” Hopper asked, like a protective papa.

“I’ll get it to you tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning,” Dr. Owens promised. “I can bring as much as you may need. Meantime, I’ll leave the stethoscope so that you can monitor the heartbeat. Here, let me show you what to look for.”

Dr. Owens instructed Steve and Murray on how to monitor your heartbeat, and you ached as you watched Steve look consumed with dread as he did his best to keep it together and not freak out. Hopper and Joyce took notes, too. Everyone listened to your heartbeat, Steve most of all.

You took his hand. “Remember, it’s still there,” you murmured to him softly. He nodded, knowing you were right but still not content with the reality of things. Robin gave you a sympathetic smile, grateful for you and your courage.

Then, you looked at Dr. Owens with gratitude. “Thank you. For being here, and…helping out. I know you’re putting yourself on the line.”

Dr. Owens gave you a deeply appreciative look, along with Hopper. He wrung his hands. “Appreciate that, kiddo. Truly.”

Everyone went over the plans that would go into effect, given the mandate taking place in just a few short days. Hopper mentioned that it might be best for Dr. Owens to seek shelter with them, if things went south for him — given his compromised identity as an accomplice to them vs. the government. The doctor couldn’t argue that, saying he would think about it. Steve and Robin mentioned to him that Eddie needed looking over as well, which he said he’d do before he left.

While the adults talked, Steve and Robin walked with you out the bedroom door. You looked outside the living room windows, hating the thick cloud of infected air that had only gotten worse — seemingly overnight. It was dense, congested with alternate dimension disease.

“Seriously, hate that I can’t even get some damn fresh air,” you sighed.

“Last thing you need is bad air in your lungs,” Steve told you, his fingers reaching to massage the crown of your head. You sighed, knowing that he was right.

The kids heard you all walking out of the room, Mike and Lucas peeking their heads around the doorway leading into Max’s room upstairs. They made for the stairs, followed by Dustin, Will and El, rushing towards you all. Eddie and Argyle shouted after them, but they quickly rushed over to you.

They swarmed you all with questions. Is your shoulder broken? What about your ribs? Are you hungry?

“One at a time, kiddos,” Robin warned.

“No broken bones,” Steve told them, “But possible fracture. Ribcage. So no bear hugs, no tackling, no…rough-housing.”

Mike cocked an eyebrow at him. “Speak for yourself.”

Lucas smacked him.

“Thank you, Wheeler,” Steve said wryly. Mike smirked.

“Also, we gotta keep watch over Bauman’s heartbeat,” Robin pointed out.

El looked worried. “How come?”

You gave her an assuring head rub before carefully pulling her in for a hug. “Just a bit of an irregular heartbeat. You know. Given the shock and astral-planing and all.”

El held you tight, cautious of your ribs.

“…guess this means no coffee then, huh?” you asked, depressed at the mere thought. Caffeine was no longer your friend.

“That is correct,” Steve told you with a light kiss pressed to your head, then El’s. “Alright, kitchen everyone. Breakfast. Let’s go.”

“Bauman, we need to pop your shoulder back in place,” Dr. Owens hollered after you, and you dreaded the pain that awaited you.

Eddie made it downstairs with Argyle. “I’ll fix up a feast, big boy,” he told Harrington, giving him a quick couple pats on the shoulder. Then he squeezed your cheek. “Keep that heartbeat in rhythm, sweetheart. I’ll make you a sweet mixtape for inspiration.”

You chuckled deeply, appreciating his sense of humor deeply. Even Steve did, shaking his head and grateful for the cooking assistance. “Don’t kill my toaster, Munson.”

Steve walked back into the bedroom with you, holding your hand while you had your shoulder popped back into place. It was gnarly. Plenty of pain medication followed that, one that took your heartbeat into account. It was bound to knock you out at some point, so Steve and Robin made sure to get you back into the kitchen for some food before you’d need to head back upstairs and knock out asleep.

Hopper and Joyce helped out by adding some pancakes, sausage and eggs to Eddie’s cereal bar. Murray was already day-drinking. Dr. Owens stayed behind to join you all, at the invitation of the adults. Currently, he was going over notes that Hopper had given him in a seat next to Murray.

Argyle saw Jonathan round the corner – looking glum. “Yooo, bro-cha-cho. Purple palm tree delight?”

Jonathan blinked, slowly brought out of his trance. He looked tired, head hung low. Honestly, he looked like shit. “Oh, uhh…maybe later. Yeah.” He gave Argyle a sad smile before sulking off towards the front door while pulling a bandana over his mouth and nose — leaving the house.

“YO, GIMME SOME.” Eddie spoke with a mouthful of fruit loops. “Air’s shit anyway. Why not fry my lungs s’more?”

“Fry it with what?” El asked innocently.

Eddie swallowed the sweet cereal awkwardly. “...candy.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he poured everyone a glass of juice, and Robin held back a snort with all the strength that she could muster while divvying out plates.

“Really lame, gross candy,” Hopper threw back over his shoulder while flipping pancakes. He eyed Munson with a protective dad look on his eyes.

“The weird peanut butter smelling kind,” Murray added, reading a newspaper and gritting at the taste of his straight vodka.

“Thank you, Murray,” Joyce reprimanded him.

You were seated next to El and Mike, not allowed to help given your sharp shoulder pain and the medication beginning to sink in. Steve placed your food in front of you, along with the kids’.

“Fresh pot of coffee going on,” Hopper announced while cooking.

You sighed, turning to Steve. “Baby, do you —”

You stopped, catching yourself. But so did everyone else. Too late now.

“...have…decaf…?”

Steve’s heart swelled, his cheeks flushing.

Lucas and Dustin made eye contact, trying not to laugh or get giddy. Mike and El did, too, along with Will. All the kids were in on it now — thanks to last night’s impromptu sleepover in Max’s room, unbeknownst to the rest of the household. The OG party knew the secret, but they also agreed (thanks to Dustin’s firm warning about Murray’s rampage last night) not to press either you or Steve about it yet. Big emphasis on yet.

Robin poured syrup in slow motion, and Eddie bit back a shit-eating grin. Argyle looked unfazed, though, dishing up a plate of food.

Hopper was grinning down at the pancakes he was serving up, back turned to everyone still. Joyce unabashedly looked like a very happy mama, as Murray’s eyes peeked over the newspaper gleefully.

“Yeah, baby, I do,” Steve said, shooting you a wink and moving to go get some. You blushed at Steve’s returning the pet name. Steve walked towards the large pantry, passing Nancy — who you saw was now standing in the doorway, having heard it too. She looked tired, similarly to Jonathan. You gave her a soft smile, which she reluctantly returned.

Walking towards you, she asked in the smallest of voices —

“How're you feeling?...”

You could tell that something was wrong, wanting to ask but also not. “Shoulder’s screaming, but not broken thankfully. Just out of the socket, Dr. Owens’ popped it back into place. I’ll be alright. Thanks, Nance.”

She gave you a relieved, tight-lipped smile. You gave her as soft a look as you could, and Mike chimed in to break the tension.

“Nancy, I swear, Jonathan’s gonna turn into a palm tree if he keeps blazing it up,” he snorts, the joke very ill-timed. But Dustin’s chuckling, along with Lucas’s, keeps him in a state of oblivion. Something flickers in Nancy's eyes, and to your surprise she chuckles too — humorlessly. Darkly.

“Yeah. You can say that again.”

…so she agrees with her brother’s joke? Nancy moved to dish herself up a plate, expression bitter and her movements aggressive. You felt bad and you didn’t even know why.

Mike definitely looked confused, along with his friends. Will looked concerned, along with Joyce. Mother and son made eye contact.

Steve returned, ready to make a pot of fresh decaf. He brought an extra coffee pot with him. Rich kid perks.

“Morning, Nance,” he acknowledged her, moving to make the coffee.

Her heart seized, voice tight. “Hey.”

Hopper made uncomfortable eye contact with Murray, who buried himself deeper into his chair with the newspaper. He did not account for this sort of awkwardness when going on a rant last night… Hopper shot him a high-raised eyebrow while flipping another pancake.

Steve heated up the pot of decaf, taking a plate that Joyce dished up for him and moving to sit next to you. Mike made room for him, not even questioning it. That made Nancy scoop more than enough eggs onto her plate than necessary.

Hopper clocked it. “You, uhh…need some cheese, or…?”

Joyce gave Hopper a disapproving look, old married couple behavior in full swing. Nancy looked down at her plate, embarrassed. “Oh…n-no, I’m —”

Nancy awkwardly moved to sit down at the table next to Dustin. Robin gulped, knowing what this was all about. Finally, everyone was seated at the table – aside from Steve, who stood to pour you a cup of hot decaf coffee before bringing it over to you. You sipped it, eyes becoming hooded with exhaustion as the pain medication set in. Steve scooted his chair closer so that you could lean on him if needed. Nancy had to peel her eyes away, staring down at her food — playing with it, unable to stomach eating it now.

She couldn’t even be mad. How could she? What right did she have to be mad? And who would she even be mad at? You? Steve? Jonathan?

Herself. She was mad at herself.

That’s what she realized last night, when she and Jonathan didn’t get a wink of sleep in their room. They’d stayed up, hashing it out once and for all. It was a hurricane of sadness, harsh truth and reality – all at once. Words that had been left unsaid. Feelings that had never been expressed. Regrets, empty promises and words of disappointment. All aired out like dirty laundry. He had asked how long she’d been falling for Steve again, which she had countered by asking him how long he had been planning to dump her while he was in California. Jonathan had been stunned into silence, asking how the hell she knew that and if she had spoken to Argyle. Nancy’s eyes, filled with tears, had stared at him with the look of utmost betrayal. “It was a hunch. Until right now.”

Neither of them got closure that night. Nearly 5 hours of back and forth, and it got them nowhere. They went to bed angry. Sad, heartbroken and lost. But sleep didn’t find either of them. Instead, they both stared in opposite directions — backs turned to one another in a shared bed. The morning had re-ignited the argument whenever they heard Dr. Owens arriving, because when Jonathan had moved to get up, Nancy asked him bitterly: “need to go hide your stash?” That started back up all sorts of hissed, whispered arguing.

“Nancy, where’d Jonathan go?” Joyce’s question, soft and a bit worried, rattled Nancy’s thoughts.

“He just…wanted to get some fresh air.”

Everyone was silent. Dr. Owen’s looked up from his files. “It’s really bad out there. He really shouldn’t be breathing any of that in.”

Nancy grit her teeth, fork scraping across her plate and making Robin cringe at the jarring sound.

Mike snorted as he ate more pancakes. “His lungs are already in rough condition as it is. Probably doesn’t even matter.”

Nancy narrowed her eyes down at her plate of toyed breakfast food, nauseas. She nodded her head bitterly, speaking through gritted teeth: “Agreed. What’s it matter? Likely irreparable anyway.”

No one missed the double meaning behind that as she rose to stand and dump her plate into the trash. She quickly made her way out of the room, knowing the damage was already done but not having it in her to care. Nancy couldn’t get away fast enough.

Eddie looked so uncomfortable but also sympathetic. He knew this was a result of last night, along with Robin. They shared a quiet, concerned glance. Mike and the kids were just confused. What was her deal?

Steve’s brow was furrowed, along with yours — however, you were already feeling the medicine kick in so everything was starting to feel fuzzy. Your fingers were wrapped around the hot cup of decaf, warming them. You were wearing a few rings that Eddie had gifted you while in the upside down, and as Steve focused on them now he realized just how hot you looked wearing them. He took in your slightly hooded eyes, moving to stand. “Wanna go lie down?”

You nodded, excusing yourself and thanking Dr. Owens again. He told you that he’d make sure to get the medication later today, then to Eddie — “Hey Munson, let’s go check on how those stitches are holding up, yeah?”

Eddie gulped. He hated needles and doctor tools.

Robin smirked. “Let’s go show him my handywork.” They all moved off to the living room, followed by Hopper.

Joyce looked perplexed still, unsettled by Nancy’s exit. She turned to Will, speaking softly, “Did Jonathan tell you anything? Is something wrong?”

But Will shook his head, shrugging, just as confused and concerned. “Nothing,” he whispered back. “I was gonna ask you that.”

The eldest and youngest Byers looked pensive, thinking. Wondering. Worrying.

Mike’s face was quizzical. “What do you mean? Why would anything be wrong with them?”

An incredulous scoff from behind the newspaper made everyone turn in Murray’s direction. The grouchy man just sipped on his morning cup of poison, minding his business — even though he stuck his nose in everybody else’s.

Joyce’s eyes narrowed at the front page of the Hawkins Press. Of course…

“Hey, Mur?”

Murray cringed at Joyce’s sugary sweet, all-knowing tone… Hesitantly, he lowered the paper by just barely an inch. He internally winced at the motherly eyes that bore into his soul from the table.

“Wanna go help me start clearing out the basement?”

Oh my god, Joyce Byers is going to murder me in Steve Harrington’s basement.

That’s all Murray thought while he set down his newspaper, swigged the last of his drink and followed her downstairs. He began to mentally write his eulogy.

Hopper grunted, setting his fork down. “Ahhh, geez,” he huffed, standing up to follow them.

The kids all eyed each other, left alone at the table — no adults or older teens in sight. What the hell just happened?

***

Steve got you upstairs safely, tucking you into bed and making sure you had water at your bedside table along with a walkie so that you could signal for him if you needed anything. It made you chuckle.

“What?” he asked you, quizzically.

You shook your head. “Still wondering why you’re considered the mom?”

Steve shot you a wry look, no heat in his eyes. You were already beginning to doze off, the better pain meds doing their thing – thanks to Dr. Owens.

With a little shake of his head and fighting a smirk, Steve crouched to kiss your forehead, then your neck.

“Careful, Harrington,” you murmured sleepily. “Don’t wan’g’my heart rate up.”

“Shush, I’m keeping it steady,” his lips murmured into your jaw. You hummed in approval, feeling yourself beginning to drift off as his breathing tickled your neck. Steve whispered that he loved you, and you faintly whispered it back as you fell asleep.

Unable to contain himself, Steve placed his ear to your chest for a moment — listening to your heartbeat. He frowned to himself, hearing the sporadic beat. Thump. Th-thump, thump. Thump thump. His throat started to burn, along with his eyes. But your fingers gently scratching his head, ceasing as you finally fell asleep, kept his emotions at bay.

Steve reluctantly pulled himself a way, pressing a lingering kiss to your hand before making his way out of your bedroom door.

He jogged downstairs to meet with the adults again, checking on Eddie as he was finishing up with Dr. Owens. The older man smiled at Steve.

“I gotta say, Harrington. Your friend’s a natural caretaker. Could be a nurse one day.”

Robin gave a smug grin. “See? I’m not just a band nerd. Turns out, I’m a real geek. A medical one, at that.”

Steve smirked back at her. “Yeah well, hope you like blood and needles and guts.”

“Psh. After the shit we’ve seen?” Robin scoffed. “Think I can handle it.”

“Touché,” Steve nodded.

“Speak for yourself,” Eddie grumbled. “I never wanna see my own blood ever again. I feel like a voodoo doll. Vecna can suck my whole hairy ass.”

“Thaaaank you, Munson,” Robin cringed. “Love that visual.”

“He can honestly suck mine, too.”

Dr. Owens muttering that was ten times more disturbing than Eddie. The three teens were awkwardly quiet, aside from Eddie finally chuckling out of pity. The older man didn’t even notice as he packed up his belongings.

“Alrighty then,” Dr. Owens said politely. “Best be off. I’ll be back tonight with the prescription for your lady.”

Steve blushed slightly at that, giving the doc a thankful nod.

“Keep an eye on her,” Dr. Owen’s said kindly. “She’ll be alright. She’s a tough one. Murray’s got one helluva soldier for a niece.”

“She’s bad to the bone,” Eddie reveled.

“Made of steel,” Steve agreed, fondly and voice soft. But he nibbled at his lip, mind elsewhere. He was still worried, and the doctor could tell.

“Just make sure she stays horizontal and lets those ribs heal. That’ll do her heart some good. And don’t fret. I’ve seen way worse.”

Dr. Owens’ gave a firm pat and squeeze to Steve’s shoulder, hoping it would give him plenty of assurance. Steve gave him a quick, tight-lipped grin, pretending it helped. Robin looked at her best friend worriedly.

With that, Dr. Owen’s made his way out. Hopper met him at the doorway, walking out with him.

“STEVE, WHERE’S THE PUDDING?”

Dustin’s sudden shouts from the kitchen made everyone jump.

“Jesus H. Christ —” Eddie hissed, clutching his heart.

“Henderson,” Steve exhaled, raking a hand through his hair as he turned to march towards the kitchen. “I swear to god.”

“Lemme handle it,” Eddie huffs. “Yo, BUTT MUNCH. WE JUST HAD BREAKFAST.”

Stepdad of the year.

Steve would normally wave off the offered help, being the assigned mother of the group. But even as the kids all made noise with Eddie, he found himself just…letting him take care of it. He needed a break. Needed to think.

“Steve, Joyce is asking where the keys to the basement breaker are,” Erica was asking him as she rounded the corner.

Steve blinked, nodding and wrapping his head around the request. But Robin stepped in, sensing his internal overwhelm.

“I’ll get them,” she told Erica, shooting a quick look at Steve. “Kitchen drawer, yeah?”

He nodded, sighing with relief. Robin made her way there with Erica, and Steve took that as a chance at escape. He could feel his chest tightening, breathing constricting a bit. Yikes, he needed some air. But that wasn’t an option either. Best bet was the nearest empty room. Max’s room was closer than his. Steve quickly bound the stairs, pinching his nose and slipping into the room quietly — needing a moment, just a moment.

El walked out of the hallway restroom, right after Steve had closed the door. She made for the stairs, heading down to find Hopper. When he walked back inside from his chat with Dr. Owens, the two of them made for the basement — telling the kids to follow, while Robin told Lucas she would handle replenishing Max’s feeding tube upstairs. She knew how to, since Dr. Owens had given strict intrusions to not only the adults but also to her. She, along with you and Steve, knew how to handle it thoroughly. Robin found herself oddly keen on helping people with the medical stuff. It gave her a newfound sense of purpose. She headed upstairs, pep in her step — who knows? Maybe she’d found her calling, she wondered to herself.

She opened Max’s door, freezing when she found Steve on the other side of it. Her heart sank.

Her best friend stood leaning against the wall to the right of the door frame — facing Max’s bed. His face was scrunched, pained.

“Steve…” Robin murmured, heartbroken. She quickly shut the door, locking it and placing a hand on his shoulder. The sight of a tear-track on his face, glistening in the gloomy natural light of the room, made her frown.

Steve looked at her for all of a millisecond, feeling caught but unable to stop now. His emotions were definitely catching up with him, and Robin wasn’t surprised — given just how long he’d been keeping shit in. She’d known for a while now: Steve Harrington needed a good, long fucking cry. She watched him pinch the bridge of his nose, his pretty face crumpling even more and shoulders shaking as he bit down on his lip hard.

“Steve, hey, it’s just me,” she whispered kindly, hugging and rubbing his shoulders while resting her chin there. He kept as much noise trapped inside of his throat as possible, mainly just letting it all come out through a quiet flow of steady tears as he stood tensely. He gratefully clasped onto one of Robin’s hands — with the one hand he wasn’t holding to the bridge of his nose with, willing the tears to stop.

“You’re really overdue for this,” Robin nudged him gently, squishing her cheek deeper into the curve of his shoulder. “Seriously, I’ve been wondering when the hell you were gonna let it all out…”

Steve coughed on what seemed to be half a laugh, half a sob. He was frustrated with himself. With everything. Your heart is failing you now and maybe forever. Max is still in a coma. His loved ones are all in danger. His kids can’t catch a break. His parents left. Hawkins is basically dead. And the upside down just gets closer, no matter how many gates they’ve closed over the last 3 years.

SO YEAH. Robin was right. Steve needed to fucking cry.

She stood there with him for a little while, letting her presence comfort him and not pushing. Steve really did hit the jackpot with her in the best friend department.

“Sometimes, I wonder if she’s still there.”

Steve’s voice was thick, low and vibrating the room. Robin knew who he meant, following his gaze. Max.

Robin hummed. “Trust me. That little firecracker is very much alive and can’t wait to tear into all of us with her redheaded temper and sarcastic wit.”

If Robin had been looking at him, she would have seen the corner of Steve’s lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She was right, of course.

“Think she knows?” Robin asks softly, still leaning onto Steve. “About…anything?”

She felt Steve take a deep breath, exhaling deeply as he rubbed his face. “M’not sure,” he murmurs, thoughts grim. “Honestly, I hope not. That’d mean she’s still trapped in there. Somewhere dark. Vile, and awful.”

Robin shuddered at that, hating the thought. She decided to ask something different. Lighter.

“Think she knew you were head over heels for a girl you swore you couldn’t stand?” She turned her head on Harrington’s shoulder so that she was looking up at him with teasing eyes and a wiggling brow. “Vowed to hate, forever and always, cross your heart and hope to die?”

Steve shook his head, beginning to grin. He looked at Max the whole time while doing so, imagining his little sister/daughter figure giving him hell for falling for you but completely loving it. Because while he knew that Max loved him — that little shit loved the hell out of you.

Steve’s frown suddenly returned, face crumpling all over again. It broke Robin’s heart as she watched fresh tears fill his eyes, which he trapped from falling by quickly scrunching his eyes shut again and digging the heels of his palms into them. It made Robin want to bawl. But she held it together for Steve’s sake, lifting her head to turn and hug him tight. She shushed him softly, desperate to calm him. Comfort him, assure him.

Steve sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, forbidding his cries to make noise. He couldn’t. Not right now. He could scream into a pillow later. Right now, he just let Robin hold him until he got it together again.

Eventually, Steve pulled back — swiping at his eyes and nose, sniffing hard. Robin looked at him sadly, rubbing his arms and letting him steady his breathing.

“Jesus, Robin, a heart arrhythmia…”

Robin had a feeling that was what was weighing heavily on Steve’s mind. You, and your newly failing heart. It made her upset, too. Deeply upset. It worried her sick. But she couldn’t let Steve sense that. Not right now. She needed to be there for him — and by extension, you.

“We’re gonna steady it, Steve,” Robin promised, voice low but fierce.

Steve shuddered a sigh, eyes downcast and mind racing as he carded his fingers through his hair. “It’s the end of the fucking world and all our heart rates are already on edge as it is —”

“So we keep her here,” Robin interrupted, gently. “Out of harm’s way, as best we can. We don’t let her put herself in a position to freak out.” She paused, thinking. “Yknow, come to think of it, Bauman’s probably the coolest outta all of us big kids. Pretty sure that chick has freaked out the least.”

Steve rolled his eyes fondly. Oh, you. “Yeah, because she’s a fucking sociopath like her uncle.”

Robin genuinely laughed at that, unable to help it. Steve smiled, too. But a few tears met the smile and the breathy laugh he let out. Robin thumbed them away sweetly.

“She’s great,” Robin told him. “Really great. Stupid great. Maybe my favorite lady I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Aside from Vicki.”

Steve sniffed. “You tryna steal my girl?”

Robin cocked an eyebrow, happy to hear him teasing. Good, it’s working. “Oh, so she is your girl now, huh? Exclusive, off-limits?”

Steve bit back a big, bashful smile — looking at her almost shyly and nudging her foot with his shoe. He turned to look at Max, nodding in her direction.

“Think she’d approve?”

Robin looked at the sleeping girl, too. She smiled sadly. “Depends. Of you two as a pair? Yeah. You’re mom and dad. As far as she’s concerned, neither one of you has anyone else out there deserving of you both. So I’d assume she feels you guys deserve each other more than anyone else deserves either of ya.”

Steve actually smiled at that, eyes sparkling as he looked at Max. He took a minute to take in her still form, thinking back to when he first met her with the kids. She was a badass. You’d have thought she’d been fighting monsters all her life. She actually took better to the whole upside down shit than he had, whenever he went over to Jonathan Byers’ house to apologize then got roped into all the madness. He had to give it to her: Max was hardcore.

“I really need this shithead to wake up,” Steve chuckled humorlessly.

Robin did, too, squeezing his arm as she shook her head at Max’s sleeping face hooked up to a breathing tube. “When she does…it’ll be a helluva reunion.”

Steve liked that. When.

“And whennn your girl gets her strength back,” Robin continued, “along with her ribs back in tact, you know…given you, Byers and Munson took her to pound town…”

Steve made a face. “Gross. Don’t say that, no.”

“Damn, Harrington, get your head outta the gutter,” Robin popped her hip into Steve’s side. “Even when I’m being serious, talking about resuscitation — not sex…you’re still jealous…at a hypothetical.”

Steve gave her a wry look, but then placed his cheek on top of her head as he looked at Max.

“As I was saying…” Robin murmured, a smile in her voice. “When your girl is back up to speed, she will give you all the heart attacks to make up for it. You won’t be able to stand her guts but you’ll be so in love with her it won’t matter. And then Max will wake up…give you two shit for it…then be a mess of joy because the two babysitters turned enemies have suddenly become lovers.” Robin paused, smiling to herself. “And I’ll be the happiest, proudest, most sappy-go-lucky best friend in the world.”

Steve breathed a sigh at that, content. It brought him peace in this moment — the idea of you, perfectly fine and all in one piece. The idea of his kid waking up, her memory still intact along with her sarcasm and quick wit. The idea of his best friend being so happy to see him so happy.

He threw an arm around her, and the two best friends just stood there for another several moments to revel in the quiet of it all — allowing themselves to dream. Allowing themselves to believe.

***

Meanwhile, Eddie definitely did not feel guilty for having eaten the last 3 puddings that Henderson had selfishly stashed for himself. Little bro’s just gonna have to cope, he thought to himself as he jogged up the stairs.

He almost broke into song, Master of Puppets rambling on inside his head -- but stopped himself when he heard voices. Tense voices.

Eddie’s pace came to a slow, and he became not only more aware of his steps — but the voices, too. Where they were coming from…to whom they belonged…

"So he was then. He was going to break up with me."

"Listen, I...I realllllllly don't wanna...speak outta term here..."

Only one guy under this roof talked that slowly, and only one lady under this roof spoke with that crisply.

Argyle and Nancy.

"Look, just -- tell me exactly what he said."

"That is what he said, man, I swear..."

Eddie could hear Nancy huffing exasperatedly. For a rich family, Steve's parents' house had some really cheap, thin doors...

He crept closer, still standing a few paces down. Just in case he needed to bolt, should someone catch him listening in -- or in case one of the two speaking on the other side of the door barged out of the room. Eddie listened, his senses on high alert and his curiosity burning.

"Then he was going to break up with me -- God, I knew it. I just knew it!"

Wait, Eddie thought. Jonathan was going to break up with her...? And Argyle knew...? But then...wait, then how did Nancy...?

"Look, Nancy," Argyle was sighing, sounding pretty worried despite his usual lackadaisical tone. "He didn't want to, alright? I'm a bro. I know when a brother's down bad, he was just freaking himself out, you know -- because of where you wanna go to college...where he wants to go to college..."

"Oh, that is so NOT an excuse."

"Which is whyyy I told him to talk to you --"

"Then why didn't he. Huh? Why didn't he??"

Eddie gulped. He could hear the genuine hurt and betrayal in Nancy's voice. Sheez, Byers was in for one helluva fight...

"Honestly, I'm asking myself that too, Nancy," Argyle was huffing this out, matching her energy. Even he sounded exasperated with his best bro. "But I'm also remembering that...like...that creepy Vecna dude kinda threw off everybody's groove. I mean -- I came to pick them up from the house and it was all getting shot up and stuff, liiiike...shit kinda hit the fan...you know...?"

"That's...still, that's not..."

"Annnnd you guys were all caught up in the shit going down back in Hawkins, man...you know? Chrissy, and...that coworker of yours, annnnd...that other random dude who hung out with... shiiiit, what was his name...? Jake...?"

"Jason," Nancy muttered lowly.

"That guy."

"Look -- Argyle." Nancy huffed again, flustered at life but regaining her edge. "Upside down stuff aside, Jonathan still took the time to talk this out with you. Not me, you. For weeks."

There was an awkward pause before Argyle spoke.

"...yeah, that's pretty bad..."

"He could have called. He could have written me. He could've, he could've, he could've. But he didn't."

"Why didn't you tell him that?"

"...what?"

Oh shit, Eddie gulped.

"Whenever we all got back here," Argyle explained. "Back in Hawkins. Why didn't you confront him about it?"

Another awkward silence.

"...I..." Nancy stumbled.

"Why didn't you go up to him, call his ass out, and call him out for not talking to you?" Argyle was suddenly sounding pretty sure of himself. It was out now character for him. Oddly? It suited him.

"I...I..."

Meanwhile, Nancy was uncharacteristically not sounding sure of herself.

Argyle gained speed.

"Think about it! You say you knew something was off...you say he was giving you mixed signals...you say he got back and suddenly acted like everything was fine, but that you sensed things still were not fine...so then why let it go? Why not tell him yourself? You're a loud woman."

"Whoa, what?" Nancy stuttered.

"You are!!! That's a compliment! You're loud and proud. You wear the damn pants. You have a gun collection. You don't hold back, even if you don't say fully what it is that you mean. Your poker face is shit."

"Argyle...!"

"You've been avoiding it too, Nancy," Argyle cut her off.

At this point, Eddie was frozen as he listened. Damn. When did Argyle become a therapist?

Clearly, Nancy was asking herself the same thing. Because it was quiet. Severely quiet.

Eddie started tracing shapes into the carpet with his mind while he stared at the ground, waiting to hear more dialogue. But it was crickets.

Finally, he heard Argyle sighing deeply. "Maybe if you both just...I dunno, man...listened to each other. Like...heard one another. You both just keep using whatever it is that you ask each other to like...one up each other...and it doesn't get either of you anywhere, man... Just hear each other out."

A tap on Eddie's shoulder made him flinch back, nearly jumping out of his skin. He whipped around to see Robin, staring at him with wide eyes. She held a finger to her lips.

Eddie couldn't believe that he managed to keep the scream trapped inside of him. He sagged with relief, heart pounding and silently pantomiming strangling her. Don't scare me like that. Her head bobbed back and forth as he shook her by the shoulders, and together they realized that they were both in on the secret:

Nancy and Jonathan are not alright.

Together, they softly crept down the hallway into Steve's bedroom. As Robin closed the door, Eddie whirled around to speak in a hissed whisper.

"Holy shit, what the fuck, this is like a soap opera --"

"Shhhhh," Robin hissed back, swatting at him to keep quiet.

"I'm literally whispering."

"And spitting."

"Sorry."

They continued whispering through gritted teeth, relieved to have each other to confide in. Eddie and Robin were beginning to feel like the zany aunt and uncle of the group who knew too much about everything going on around the house. It bonded them for sure. They knew about you and Steve, which also became a topic of whispered conversation right now as they sat cross-legged on the floor of Steve's bedroom.

"Sorry, but can we talk about how off we were trying to push Wheeler back on Harrington?" Eddie's eyebrows were raised practically to the top of his hairline.

Robin scoffed at themselves, shaking her head. "I'll say..."

"It was right there under our noses and we just..." Eddie moved his hand in a straight line, "...breeeeezed onnnnn past it."

"Yeah, but honestly?" Robin whispered eagerly. "I thought Bauman hit a sore spot that could never be repaired. Steve seriously was in love with Nancy. Like, really in love."

Eddie chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "Trust me. I said the same thing. To his face directly, while we were in the upside down. Told him that what Wheeler did -- diving into the lake after him -- was the most unambiguous sign of true love I'd ever seen in my life." He paused, thinking. "But what I failed to realize was that...it was Bauman who freaking lunged for him first on the boat. And the way he clung to her hand, despite also looking mad at her for doing that --"

Eddie was reliving the memory, realizing something. Robin was, too.

"He was mad that she put her life on the line," Robin nodded along, slowly stitching together his thoughts.

"But it was just so fast," Eddie pointed out as he agreed. "Literally, one moment Harrington's back to the surface, getting ready to hop back on the boat. Next, he's being tugged down by that -- that thing... And Bauman just -- lunged for him. And he grabbed her hand, but the look he shot her?... It was so...conflicted..."

Robbin nodded, swallowing hard. "Like he grabbed her hand back gratefully, but also hated what she'd just done to herself by putting her life on the line."

"Which is whyyyy," Eddie continued, figuring it all out. "Whenever she got dragged underneath with him, and the two of them went at it -- bickering like crazy when we all got down there with 'em and fought off the bats...he was so mad at her. And she was mad that he was mad."

Robin scoffed a laugh, pace palming. "And all we saw was Nancy diving in after him --"

"After Bauman already beat her to it," Eddie muffled into his palms. “Duuuuude, they’re so in love. Been love. Unambiguously in love.”

"We are idiots," Robin giggled, face palming.

"Not as big as they are, though," Eddie corrected, snorting. They both snickered like big kids into their hands, trying to keep quiet.

Eddie finally sighed, thinking fondly. "Those two are actually stupid fucking adorable."

Robin smiled wistfully. "Yeah. Yeah, they are." She bit her lip, thinking. "Honestly, I've...I've never seen Steve this torn up."

She told Eddie how worried she was for her best friend. How worried she was for you. How desperately she wished that all of this would go away. How she prayed that Max would wake up, and that Vecna would choke on his own guts and that the upside down would cease to exist.

Eddie nodded, eyes solemn as he gnawed on his cheek. "I wish I could've known Chrissy better."

Robin's brows pinched together. She could see the genuine remorse -- maybe even regret -- in Eddie's eyes. Had there been...feelings there...?

"Wish that I'd..." Eddie mumbled, eyes on the ground searching for the words. "That I'd just...I don't know. Tried to notice, or care about something other than living in my own world all the time."

Robin gave his hand a squeeze, shooting him a synaptic tight-lipped smile. Eddie squeezed her hand back, gratefully.

"You're doing that now," Robin reminded him softly. "Chrissy sees that."

Eddie looked at her, his eyes going glassy. He looked like a sweet puppy when he got emotional. Robin noted just how wholesome that was as she placed her other hand on top of theirs.

"We seriously need to kill this son of a bitch," Eddie whispered, angered anguish briefly flashing in his dark eyes.

Robin nodded fiercely. "We will."

They took a few moments to just be in silence, letting it all land.

A light knock at the door broke through the tranquility of the silence, concluding the tender moment. Eddie and Robin looked at Steve's bedroom door, taking a second before Robin rose to answer it. Eddie figured that was best, given she is the platonic soulmate of the room's owner.

Neither of them were sure what to expect exactly, as far as who was on the other side of the door. Robin half expected it to be Steve himself. Eddie's expectations looked a lot like one of the kids.

So when they saw Jonathan standing on the other side, that made them all go stiff.

He still looked awful. Eyes rimmed red from exhaustion, a little bloodshot. His hair was messy, not sure how to sit on his head. These days, Jonathan looked haggard. While he was never the pretty-boy type, Jonathan was always good looking in a moody, brooding sort of way. The unconventionally attractive type. Lately? He just looked worn down, tired and a little bit like a bum. Definitely not the type of guy you would expect Nancy Wheeler to be going steady with, given how polished and precise she is. Opposites attract, but at this rate the two of them were becoming contrasts of one another.

"Hey," Jonathan said softly, timidly. He looked caught, but so did Robin and Eddie as he looked at both of them.

"Hey," they awkwardly repeated.

After a long, awkward, pregnant pause, Jonathan finally cleared his throat and gave his legs a little pat -- as if that might help break the tension.

"Is uhh, is Steve here?"

Robin shook her head. "No, he's with Bauman. I told him to go take a nap, since Dr. Owens got her so early and I know he's not sleeping."

Jonathan's eyes softened, looking sympathetic and giving her a light nod. He scratched his neck. Eddie clocked some weird sort of guilty glint in his eye. Like something was really on his mind and he needed to get it off his chest. There was almost an anxious twitch to him.

Eddie began to realize that he knew what this was about. About why Jonathan was looking for Steve, and why he looked so glum. So anxious.

Because Eddie was there that day. When you fell. When you died. When Jonathan tried to step in and bring you back, before Steve was finally able to step in. Eddie was there, watching it all happen. He watched Steve fall apart, fraying at the seams. He watched Jonathan exhaust himself with the attempted CPR. He watched how it completely exerted him, no doubt thanks to the lack of decent nutrition and lung damage that was due to the purple palm tree delight. That had to have to have set Jonathan's lungs on fire, as he desperately tried pumping air back into your lungs. Eddie had watched Jonathan lean back, only for Steve to verbally tear into him.

DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING STOP.

IT'S NOT WORKING, IT'S TOO LATE.

NONE OF US GAVE UP ON YOUR BROTHER. FUCK YOU, BYERS. FUCK YOU.

The storm of words between Harrington and Byers was no doubt long overdue. That was evident with every single word that Steve spat at Jonathan, and every word that Jonathan bitterly wept. Both men had shrieked at each other, shrill and angry and hurt.

Eddie had watched as they both went at it, Steve lashing out and Jonathan feebly fighting back. He might not have been close with them in high school. He might have run in completely different circles than them. He might not have known anything about the two of them, or what sort of crucial role they played in each other's lives, or how the upside down not only existed but also forced them to merge worlds. But fast forward to yesterday, when you were dead at everyone's feet and no one knew if they would save you -- Eddie saw 3 years of unspoken words go flying between Steve and Jonathan. He watched it all unfold, ugly and loud and anguished.

Because while Steve might have found some sort of silent (albeit avoidant) peace that he inwardly had made with Jonathan Byers, his bitterness was still there. Festering, festering, festering...never truly unloading itself whenever he projected onto you.

Because you hadn't taken Nancy away. Jonathan had.

Maybe that's partly why Steve got so livid with Jonathan. Because he could now. Now that you were gone, or so they'd thought, he had no choice but to scream at Jonathan. To finally let him have it.

FUCK YOU BYERS. FUCK YOU.

Steve had screamed that in Jonathan's face, voice wrecked from angry tears and shrieks of pure fear. It was fucking personal.

And Jonathan had taken it. Like he deserved it. Because maybe a part of him did. Maybe, just maybe, a big part of him did. Not because he wasn't a decent guy. Hell no, Byers was a great dude. He had just...lost his way. And that was fine. But really, he wasn't as present as usual -- given his more frequently ~high~ state, and his newfound friendship with Argyle. That wasn't a bad thing. It just...changed things.

Eddie had watched Byers go from the super observant, introverted wallflower to a nonchalant, low-key absent-minded, slightly lazy guy. Not nearly as driven as before. Not that he was ever this super academic, wildly driven type to begin with. Still, there had been something more to Byers prior to now. Something alive. Lately? Byers looked like he was simply surviving. Doing just a bit more than the bare minimum to get by.

Meanwhile, Steve had grown exponentially. He'd gone from being an entitled, snobbish rich kid who made C's and D's to a street-smart hero who knew how to protect and care for both kids and his friends, along with being trusted by the adults involved in all of these terrifying circumstances. He wasn't the teacher's pet growing up, but he certainly was the favorite now. He was Steve Harrington: bad boy turned supermom/superboy. He wasn't quite superman. He'd lost the girl, because Lois Lane had chosen Bruce Wayne over him. But along the way, he'd unexpectedly fallen for Gotham City's badass princess who floated under the radar until she found her way into the circle of Hawkins Heroes -- the upside down underdogs. Steve was strong, he was loyal and he was true.

So that afternoon next to the electric fence, those two men were having a 3-year standoff without even truly acknowledging it. It was bound to blow up in their faces at some point. And you had been the catalyst.

Eddie took all of that in by looking at Jonathan Byers as he stood in Steve Harrington's doorway, looking into the eyes of the former jock's best friend and his new unexpected friend of a metalhead.

"When he's up...I need to speak with him."

Jonathan's voice shook a bit, nervously. But he made eye contact with both Robin and Eddie. His eyes were sincere, remorseful and eager. "Please."

***

:) thank u all for reading. thoughts on this chapter? guesses as to what might go down? TAGLIST: @xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst notlilyyyy

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roanniom · 8 months

Note

I adored smartest! Scratched an itch I didn’t know I had for Steve. Can’t stop thinking of him seeing someone trying to flirt with his tutor and getting possessive and dragging her down the nearest dark alley to prove no one could make her dumb like he can.

Smartest - Part 2

King!Steve Harrington x tutor!fem!reader

Read Part 1

Warning: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, mutual masturbation, semi public sex / PIV sex / unprotected sex, teasing, power dynamics, King!Steve is a dick and is his own warning (but goes through angst here???)

Steve isn’t really sure what he assumed would happen after he’d been hooking up with his tutor for a while. There had been absolutely no forethought to the initial act, and the fact that you had been into him enough to let him keep fucking you during each session - well Steve Harrington isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, of course.

But he certainly hadn’t anticipated how the attention would affect how you carry yourself. In the halls. In class. In the stands during pep rallies. Walking through the diner or at the movies. Whenever Steve sees you out and about in Hawkins now, he can’t help but blink and do a double take.

You stand up straighter. You smile brighter. You make eye contact with the people around you. Your clothes are a little more relaxed, opting for flouncier skirts and fun tops rather than cardigans and your usual buttoned up, structured dresses.

To Steve, of course, the change seems motivated by him. And, to be fair, he was sort of the catalyst. He couldn’t possibly know that really you’ve started to come into your own, not because of Steve’s attention itself, but because of the way it allowed you to dismiss the fears you’d had of your own undesirability. The King of Hawkins High wanted you. You’re pretty sure it’s just as a steady fuck buddy, but still. You’d gone from scared to look boys in the eye to being very aware of the fact that you walking through the Harrington’s front door with your books and notes had a pretty much Pavlovian effect of Steve’s cock. He was basically hard fifteen minutes into any tutoring session these days.

It’s not that Steve’s attention has validated you, per se. It’s more that it has made you realize how silly men are. How easy and one track minded they can be. Its almost silly to think how starved you had been for approval and how sure you’d been that your status as an A+ goody goody made you untouchable. That was clearly, judging by the bruises Steve left on your thighs each week, not the case. The whole thing has made you ten times less nervous in his presence. And if you don’t have to be nervous around the King, it essentially means that you’re more at ease everywhere.

At first this change in you intrigues Steve. He truly had never really given you much thought prior to the start of your dalliance. Sure you were pretty…in a stuffy, academic, good girl type of way. But he was always a bird of prey, looking for shiny, garish, colorful and shapely things to catch his eye.

So the day you show up to his place in a tight skirt and a fashionable off the shoulder blouse that bares your collar bones and exposes cleavage, Steve’s eyes practically pop out of his head.

“Well hello,” he says directly to your tits. You roll your eyes and step around him into the house.

“Hi, Steve,” you reply, walking towards the dining room where you usually have your sessions. Steve jogs up behind you and grabs you at the waist, turning you back to him.

“Not in there. Let’s study in my room.”

“Why?” you ask, confused by the sudden change.

“Well, my parents are home,” Steve elaborates. Heat fills you as you realize what he means, but you cock your head to the side, waiting for him to say it. Steve rubs the back of his neck and chuckles. “So we can’t…have fun in the dining room.”

“I’m here to tutor you, Steve. So I guess it’s okay if we can’t have fun,” you say with a shrug. You can’t suppress your smile though and Steve’s smile widens. A few weeks ago you would have stuttered and gone shy but immediately compliant, hoping to please him. This was new.

“Yeah but what about when I get an answer right?” Steve asks, stepping forward and lifting his hand so he can play with the hem of your shirt. “You know I need positive reinforcement.”

You do your best to hide your swallow at the memory of how you had sucked his cock after you’d cajoled him into memorizing his flash cards. Even more heat courses through your body but you look up at him defiantly.

“I brought a packet of gold stars. You like stickers, Steve?”

Your answer catches him off guard and he lets out a bark of a laugh. There’s a triumphant fanfare ringing in your ears at the fact that you are able to make Steve laugh like that. Organically and not part of any of kind of show or flirtation or charm offensive.

“I do like stickers…” he says, his hand dipping under the hem of your top and splaying out over the bare skin of your waist. “But I think this body might motivate me better.”

Your breath catches in your throat at that. His heavy eye contact leaves you nowhere to run. Not that you’d ever run from Steve. He’s a magnet pulling you in regardless of distance or context.

But he’s also made the vital mistake of showing his hand. He wants something from you, too. This isn’t a one way serving pity situation. You might be dumb with his cock in you, but before it gets to that point you’re still the smartest girl in Hawkins. So you use this information to your advantage.

You take his hand and walk him up the stairs (a bold move that he didn’t see coming and which makes him immediately rock hard as he watches your ass away ahead of him up the steps).

You’re the one who closes the door. He locks it.

You end up getting Steve to complete all of his homework…by himself. With motivation in the form of a game where you give him a sticker after he completes each assignment and he gets to decide which body part of yours it goes on. By the end of the afternoon you’re naked on his bed, a sticker on each of your tits, each of your ass cheeks, your bellybutton, and your lower abdomen. By the end of the session his head is squeezed between your thighs, his hands roaming and roving to squeeze each soft piece of flesh he’d bedazzled with his gold stars of favor.

So yeah. At first your increased confidence was something Steve found pretty fucking hot.

But as time went on, he began to realize that your confidence didn’t begin and end with him. He started seeing you around in school more. It’s not that you had somehow increased the amount of times you cross his path in a day, exactly. More that you used to melt into the background a bit more. He’d notice you only if you were right in front of him shyly waving. He’d wave back dutifully at his tutor, sometimes throwing you a bone in the form of a wink, lazily enjoying the way it would so obviously throw you into a tailspin with virtually no effort on his part.

Now you’re somehow everywhere all at once. And not only are you noticeable in the crowd - you stand out from it. Your hair is more stylish, your clothes are unapologetically patterned and colored and fit you in ways his hands envy. Your smile is brighter than the god damn fluorescents above. And now Steve is the one who has to maneuver to catch your eye. Because you’re always talking to people these days, it seems. And a lot of those people are guys, Steve notices begrudgingly.

You stand with your back against a locker, your books pulled to your chest as your arms wrap around them, a smile on your face that is definitely not worth the lame ass comment said by the dumb jock standing before you. Steve pauses at the water fountain where he’d been bending when he’d turned his head and saw you. So clearly the recipient of some football player’s attention.

And boy do you glow under attention.

That week when you arrive at his house to tutor him, Steve tries to charm you again into simply fucking outright. Again, you coyly dance around it, making him work for it. He ends up losing his patience and crowding you in the kitchen when you get up for a snack.

“Steve! I’m trying to—!” You’re squealing but he swallows it up as he takes the coke can out of your hand and blindly moves it away from you, his mouth already hot on yours.

Before you can register what’s happening, Steve’s hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter and pushed his way between your spread legs.

“What?” Steve asks, pulling away and feigning nonchalance as if he hadn’t just manhandled you and mauled you with his lips. “You said we could have a snack break.” He slides a hand down to cup your pussy through your skirt. He pets at the place over your clit. “This is my snack.”

What would have once rendered you speechless makes you roll your eyes.

“I’m actually hungry, Steve.”

Steve gives you a lopsided grin and drops his hand on his hard on, evident and swell in the confines of his jeans.

“Got a snack for you right here.”

You laugh at that and Steve feels something akin to pride zing through him. But it’s not exactly like pride, an emotion he knows well. No, it’s something different. Warmer.

“As much as I do enjoy that particular snack, Harrington, I don’t think your cum will satiate me.”

“Fuck. Dirty talk and big words like ‘satiate’.” Steve pretends to feel faint with a hand on his forehead. “You really have this hot smart girl thing figured out.”

You shake your head at him but smile, and Steve hates the fact that it’s your smile that makes him even harder.

He also hates the fact that fifteen minutes later he finds himself sliding into a booth at the local diner rather than sliding himself into your sweet pussy.

You’d cajoled him into taking you for a real meal since there was nothing to eat at his place. And no, you’d continued to argue. His cock was not a balanced meal.

His hand had been on your thigh for half of the drive to the diner before he realized, like ice water down his back, that the whole situation reeked of a date. He’d pulled his hand back over to clutch at the steering wheel with a double grip, eyes flitting to you anxiously. However you seemed not to notice, looking instead out the window pleasantly.

As he’d parked Steve had made a mental note to reel in the PDA. He didn’t want you thinking this was more than it was. More than a weekly fuck session between two consenting people. One of whom used to have the upper hand and one of whom…had the sexiest smile with lips that looked sinful wrapped around a stripped straw and cheeks that hollowed sexually as they sucked—

Fuck.

Steve Harrington was in trouble.

The meal went by quickly, and over time you were able to pull him from his rattled internal monologue, stealing his fries and teasing him for getting in trouble in class earlier in the day. Steve throws a fry at you and nudges your foot with his under the table. You laugh. His stomach flips. His palm itches so he drops it under the table and rubs it against the denim on his thigh.

When the waitress comes with the check, you bound to the bathroom and Steve gets a minute to get his shit together.

He’s Steve fucking Harrington. Supreme stud of Hawkins High. Another girl every week (although if he was counting, which he wasn’t, it had been a few weeks since he’d reracked his rotation). He fishes his wallet out of his too-tight jeans and drops down some bills.

“Thanks, handsome.”

Steve looks up, expecting to see you but instead realizing it had come from the waitress who he’d forgotten was standing there. She’s a pretty thing, maybe a year or two older. He’s seen her working here before and he lets his eyes roam over her figure unabashedly. Her uniform isn’t zipped up all the way in the front, leaving exposed a generous swell of cleavage and her waist flares out into a voluptuous set of hips. She taps a manicured nail on her order pad, patiently waiting for him to finish oogling her. She’s a hot girl and he’s a hot guy. She knows this dance and so does Steve. When he drags his eyes up from her tits to her face, she looks expectant.

This is the part where he chats her up. Where he compliments her - or cuts her down a bit in a boyish, redeemable way - and then asks her out. He’s supposed to give her his million watt rich boy smile, run a hand through his hair, and turn on the charm.

She’s expecting it. He’s expecting it of himself.

But instead, all he can manage is a nod and a tight smile. He watches the waitress’s brows raise and her smile fall a bit. But then she’s simply picking up the money and walking away. Steve has a moment of panic as his eyes drop to watch the sway of her ass as she retreats. What the fuck is wrong with him? He could have been tucked away in his car with that hot woman, spanking that ass within the hour.

Instead he’s still tucked away in a booth at a diner her didn’t want to go to, still painfully hard without an outlet in sight.

Which is when he hears your laugher ring out, causing said hard cock to twitch. Steve turns quickly to find you standing by the entrance to the bathroom, cornered by yet another football player.

He sees red. The way you’re leaning up against the wall is a mirror image to when he’d seen you receive attention earlier in the week by your locker. You gaze up at the football player with a smile that Steve realizes he’d assumed was only meant for him. It boils his blood to think that the smile you’d bestowed on him so dutifully, so loyally, was just your smile. A thing to be handed out like some cheap party favor to any Tom, Dick, or Harry.

Steve can’t know - especially from a distance - that you really are only humoring this guy. If one looked closer they could never mistake the tight lipped, emotionless nicety on your face for the radiant, full bodied smile you reserved for Steve. You’d gotten cornered by the jock on your way back to the bathroom, and you’d been trying to politely extricate yourself from his lukewarm advances for a few minutes now.

He was rambling about his car and the upgrades he’d gotten done to it when suddenly a pair of big hands land heavy on your shoulder.

“Babe, I paid the check. Let’s get out of here.”

You whip your head around to find Steve behind you, though his gaze is placed firmly on the football player. Though they aren’t the same in width, Steve’s got the guy beat in height, and he uses it to his advantage by standing up straight and puffing his chest a bit.

“Harrington,” the jock chokes out. In the Hawkins hierarchy, the basketball team is more successful than the football team by a long shot, so a certain amount of deference is expected for the king of the court, even from fellow athletes. “I’m sorry…I didn’t…is this your girl?”

Steve feels you go rigid under his hold. Your eyes flash up to his but he doesn’t meet yours.

“Don’t you have a playbook to memorize?” Steve asks coolly. He pulls lightly and your back presses against his chest. “If I remember football season right, I’d say it’s gonna take you till fall and then some. Better get back to it.”

You try to laugh his comment off and put a hand on the bicep of your would-be suitor.

“Steve, this is—,”

“Mr. Irrelevant,” Steve completes for you, smoothly using both an insult and a football pun.

The jock stutters another apology before ambling back to his friends. You don’t have time to question Steve because his arm is suddenly around you, pulling you with him out the door.

The two of you walk briskly to his car, and only when you reach the passenger door do you finally regain your powers of speech.

“What was that in there, Steve?” you ask quietly. Your hand is on the door handle but you remain motionless.

“What? I told you, I don’t like football players,” Steve says with a shrug, yanking open the driver side door and dropping into his seat. You climb in carefully and watch him as he violently pulls on his seatbelt.

“Why?”

“Because they’re a bunch of meat heads and it’s a sport revolving around how many concussions they can rack up—,”

“No, Steve,” you interrupt gently, your hand dropping on his knee. “Why were you acting…possessive?”

Steve’s skin burns through his jeans where your hand touches him. He stares at it for a second before looking up, agitated.

“Well excuse me for saving you. I thought you’d be thanking me for getting that guy to stop drooling on you.”

His words sting and you wince. Steve even winces a bit, having not intended to sound so forceful. You shrug.

“He was only being nice.”

Steve let’s out a humorless laugh.

“That wasn’t being nice. That was undressing you with his eyes. That was trying to get you to let him feel you up under the bleachers. Nice is—,”

“Nice is flirting with your tutor to get her to do your homework?”

Steve freezes before he can turn the key in the ignition. He looks over to find that you’re staring blankly out the windshield. Your arms are hugging you, like you’re trying to comfort yourself.

“That’s not…”

“Nice is fucking her when you’re bored? Your little prescheduled sex appointment?”

Steve’s defenses raise and he unbuckles his seatbelt so he can turn more fully to you.

“Hey wait, that’s—,”

“That’s exactly what this is. I haven’t misunderstood that, Steve,” you say, finally turning the full force of your earnest gaze on him. “Have you?”

Steve blinks at you slowly. Completely unsure about what’s going on and how the night has taken this turn.

He’s even more bewildered when you suddenly move to climb into the back seat.

“What are you doing?” he asks, surprised and leaning over to watch you lay yourself down on the seat.

“You wanted to fuck me earlier. So do it.”

Steve feels like you’ve slapped him in the face. Your stare is cool and you begin to unbutton your blouse. Panic rises inside of him and his head whirls around.

“Here? Someone could see,” Steve argues. They are in the back corner of the parking lot, but it’s a parking lot nonetheless, illuminated by one sole street lamp. You shrug.

“The windows are tinted, aren’t they?”

Steve can’t begin to comprehend the conflict coursing through his veins. Of course the windows are tinted. Almost illegally so. He knows that because he’s fucked countless girls in the back seat of his car. Hadn’t he even just thought about fucking that waitress in his car only minutes ago?

But with you…

He’s thrown off by the urge he has to cover your breasts with his hands when you peel back your top. Not even to touch you but just to keep you from being seen by others.

Why does he fucking care?

King Steve had fucked at every party he’d ever been to - sometimes even in rooms with no doors or up against the back of a house with people nearby on a porch. He’d never once had a conscience about it. As long as the girl was down, he was ready to go.

So why is it different now, with you stripping in his back seat and staring at him with big doe eyes?

“Come on. Don’t make me get started by myself,” you say teasingly. You’re clearly trying to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. Steve swallows hard.

“You wouldn’t.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him and lift the hem of your skirt. You’re wearing a lacy scrap of panties that match your bra. Definitely a far cry from the sensible underwear you’d been wearing the first time he’d seduced you.

“Try me.”

And despite the confusion and warning bells going off in his head, Steve’s clambering into the back seat in seconds. He’s on top of you, hips shoved between your thighs and big hands on your wrists, pinning them above your head against the inside of the car door.

“That’s more like it,” you coo, smiling a dazzling smile up at him. It thrills him and upsets him and makes him frustrated all at once, and since he doesn’t know how to express that with words he does it physically. His mouth drops to your neck so he can pull a sizable amount of flesh between his lips and suck. Hard. You gasp and arch up into him, giving him the perfect opportunity to switch your wrists into a single handed grip so he can move the other hand down to grope at your breasts. Instead of covering them and hiding them, he rips down your bra, letting your breasts spill from the cups.

Steve bites a bruising trail down from your neck to your cleavage, sucking harder than he ever has before.

“Trying to be cute, huh?” he growls against your skin. You laugh breathlessly, wrists straining against his hold.

“Yeah. ‘s it working?”

That makes Steve strangle a laugh but it still frustrates him. You’ve somehow still got the upper hand here. Even though you’re below him and your body is at his mercy. When did the tables turn so fully?

So he sits up abruptly, leaving you laying back, legs still open wide around his hips, his spit still drying around the new bruises sucked to your neck. You’re motionless for a second before leaning up on your elbows to look at him, dazed.

“I’m a little unconvinced,” Steve says with a shrug. A frown filters over your features. You watch as he smooths his hands up and down your thighs, looking at your panty-clad center appraisingly.

“What are you unconvinced about?” you ask. Steve draws a line with his index finger over the length of the waistband of your panties.

“That you really want it bad enough.”

Frustration flickers in your eyes.

“Want what?” you ask, playing along. Steve drops one hand to the bulge in his jeans.

“This cock.”

You roll your eyes and sit up higher.

“Of course I want—,”

“I’m not sure, baby. You were gonna touch yourself back here. Maybe I should have let you handle it.” His actions contradict his words as one hand rubs slow circles right at the crease where your thigh meets your hip. Your eyebrows knit together.

“No, I want you,” you reply, almost petulantly.

There it is.

This is what Steve needed.

But he shakes his head. Now that he’s got you back on the line he’s going to enjoy this to the fullest.

“Maybe you had the right idea,” he says, leaning back a bit against the opposite door. The backs of your thighs still rest on the tops of his, and with one hand still heavy on you, his free hand pops open the button of his jeans. You feel the slide of his zipper rush down your spine.

When Steve pulls his cock out and begins to stroke it, you feel your stomach drop and your mouth water. He’s watching you as he does it. Eyes darting from your breasts almost spilling out of the cups of your bra to the wet spot in the center of your panties. It makes you hot. It turns you on in a way that’s almost painful to watch the flushed fat head of his cock disappear and reappear in the grip of his fist.

“I’m…I’m right here,” you mutter. Steve grins and takes his hand from his cock and slides it confidently under the elastic hem of your panties.

“Yeah, you are.”

The intrusion of his fingers is sudden and sure and you gasp at the feeling of them sliding through your slick. He swirls a few circles around your tensing hole before sliding up to press circles into your clit. You drop back down off your elbows and let out a satisfied moan at the stimulation you’d craved.

But then…he’s pulling his hand back, allowing the elastic of your panties to snap back on you with a sting. You sit up again fast and watch as he takes the wetness he’d gathered from you to make the glide of his hand on his cock more smooth. Your jaw drops.

“Thanks, baby,” Steve says with a wink.

“Steve, what?!”

He shrugs.

“I would’ve asked you to spit in my hand but I didn’t think you would since you’re having an attitude.”

That. That struck exactly the nerve he thought it would. Your jaw sets and your eyes flash. Scooting back a bit so you, too, can lean on the inside of the door closest to you, you drop your legs open wider, well aware of the way Steve’s attention immediately drops to them.

“You’re not very nice, Steve Harrington,” you say quietly. Both of your hands move to squeeze at your own breasts and you arch into your own touch. Steve chuckles at that, eyes on your hands.

“And you’re nice even when you’re pissed apparently,” he says dismissively. Your frown deepens as you pull your bra down to expose you fully. Steve’s face goes blank, like you hoped.

“Fuck you,” you respond, just as quiet as before. Steve’s eyes remain glazed, hand moving faster on his cock, but he gives a lopsided grin.

“There she is. Feisty.”

The interior of the car has started to heat up. The humid smell of sex fills the air, though you’d prefer actually having sex. He’s been pushing it tonight, but you really can’t help the way you feel watching his big hand move on his even bigger cock. It should be inside you. This is the day of your tutoring session. The one day of the week that almost guaranteed you had his attention. Every other day, King Steve belonged to Hawkins. He was a heartthrob and a hometown hero. Probably inside of a different girl each night of the weekend (though you try not to think of that because it’s gross).

But on tutoring days it’s just you. So the fact that he’s choosing to touch himself rather than fill you has you feeling petty. It makes you redouble your efforts. You pinch one of your nipples and let out a heady, performative sigh, all while your other hand moves down and shoves inside your panties. You trace the same path Steve did, circling your hole and then your clit. Getting yourself nice and worked up with your eyes glued on the way Steve drags his hand over his throbbing dick.

Steve is mesmerized, as seems evident by the way he’s stopped talking to watch you. To hear you.

When you push two fingers inside of yourself, you let out an indulgent moan that causes Steve’s hips to buck into his hand. Your thighs quiver where they remain stretched out around his legs.

You drop your other hand down into your stretched out panties to play with your clit while you continue thrusting fingers in and out of yourself - that’s when Steve loses it.

“Show me,” he says gruffly, eyes ripping from the space between your legs to look up at you blearily.

“You’re literally watching me right now,” you laugh, breathless. Steve shakes his head and reaches out to tug on the edge of your panties.

“Get this shit out of the way.”

Now it’s your turn to shake your head.

“Nope. You had your chance with my pussy. You wanted your hand.”

The filthy words coming from you almost makes his eyes roll back in his head. He grunts and continues fisting his cock, but he looks more frustrated now.

Unfortunately there’s something of a Pavlovian response in your body at the sight of his aggression. Whether you like it or not, your burgeoning sexuality had crackled into being under the hands of Steve Harrington, and Steve being Steve is what gets you going.

Unlucky for you and the upper hand you’re trying to cling to, Steve can tell. Back to back weeks of fucking the same person will do that to you, apparently.

“You’re close.” It’s more accusation than observation.

You want to disagree but your fingers speed up on your clit and you widen your legs even more, looking to build pressure.

“Yeah. I am.”

“Fuck.” Steve slows his hand on his cock, breathing deeply and placing a laser focus on your hands in your panties. “Bet you’re getting tight around those fingers, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nod, eyes closing and head thrown back against the door. “Really tight…”

Steve let’s out an uncharacteristically pathetic moan. The thrill of it causes your core to contract even tighter.

“Bet you wish I was sucking those tits right now,” Steve remarks, replaying in his head all the times he’d made you cum lately. You lift up to look at him with stern hooded eyes and pull one of your hands from your panties. With a pointed look you raise your fingers to your mouth, lick them wetly, and then bring them down to play with your nipple. Your hips buck into your other hand and Steve loses his fucking mind.

“Alright, that’s fucking it,” he says, launching himself forward. He’s on you in the blink of an eye, hitching your legs up and around his hips, dropping so that his elbows cage you in on either side of your head. The length of his cock slides parallel to your entrance with a wet sound, pushing your pussy lips apart.

“Finally,” you moan petulantly. And that’s all the consent Steve needs to reach down and line himself up so he can thrust into you.

Things get hot and hazy after that. Your fingers thread into his hair and pull hard at the roots. Steve’s tongue and teeth are everywhere, but especially on your pulse point and on the peaks of your breasts.

The slap of skin on skin fills the interior of the car, rivaled only by your shared panting.

Steve shouldn’t feel this good. It shouldn’t be such a relief to sink into your body, like it’s a home he’s been waiting to return to. Your nails biting into his back through his shirt shouldn’t feel like heaven and your little mewls and gasps shouldn’t be an angel’s chorus. He’s not even fucking religious, so what’s with the holy comparisons?

“Oh Steve. Fuck,” you whisper moan right into his ear. Steve slides a hand under you to push your lower back up, giving your hips a tilt that lets him hit deeper.

“It’s good, yeah?” he asks. It’s a question but it’s cocky. You bite his earlobe and clench around him.

“I don’t know, is it?”

“Fucking Christ.”

Yeah. Steve Harrington is seeing god in the back seat of his car in a diner parking lot.

~*~

It takes a minute for you both to catch your breath when you’re done. Sweat and cum and words left unsaid create a film over the two of you which makes it hard to breathe.

Eventually Steve helps you climb back into the front seat before hoping behind the wheel himself to bring you back to the empty Harrington house. Upon arriving, Steve puts the car in park and turns to you, intent on speaking though he’s not sure what he plans to say. You, however, give him no such chance to figure it out as you bound out of the car and up the path to the front door. Steve catches up to let you in.

It’s later than it usually is when you wrap up your tutoring sessions. Steve has to turn on lamps as he follows you through the dark foyer and into the dining room where he finds you already grabbing your things and packing your bag up, half hidden in shadow.

“We didn’t finish the work,” he says quietly. Some what dumbly. You hoist your bag over your shoulder and give him a smile that deep down he knows he doesn’t deserve.

“Yeah. Looks like we’ll have to finish another time.”

When you start for the door, moving at a brisk pace, Steve stumbles after you.

You’re over the threshold and making your way to your car, glowing in the yellow light of the porch lamp before Steve can blurt out.

“When?”

God, he does sound fucking dumb.

And you. You turn and give him one last smile. Looking so put together. So smart.

“That’s up to you, Steve,” you say with a shrug, opening your car door. “You let me know.”

And with that, you get in your car and drive away. Leaving Steve standing alone on his porch with his thoughts.

~*~

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Ahhh originally had no intention of writing a part two and then this happened. Please reblog and comment to let me know what you think and thanks for reading!!

#king!steve harrington #king!steve harrington smut #steve harrington smut #king!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things smut

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