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lovedazai · 10 months

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SAFETY NET

about after you watch dazai nearly die, you can’t be close enough to him.

ft. dazai + f!reader, emotional hurt/comfort, injuries & blood, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), references to dazai’s scars, reader is v teary eyed...mdni !!

p.s! ⊹˚. happy dazai day ⸝⸝˃ᴗ˂⸝⸝‬ !! in honor of the birthday boy i decided to make my nsfw debut

this is it, you think. dazai is really going to die this time.

you can't look away, even when you're certain he's going to be killed, right there in front of you. it's only your survival instincts and the mental image of the horrified look you know will be on his face that stop you from running out to him.

but of course, he survives; he always does. you don't remember when you got to his side; all you know is the enemy is down, and now you're clinging to him so hard, you can feel the imprint of your nails through his jacket.

"i must've died and gone to heaven after all," he jokes, voice sugary sweet. you shakily exhale through your mouth, forcing yourself to keep breathing. you’re so dizzy in your relief, you barely hear the soft call of your name.

you can feel his gaze on the top of your head before he hugs you back, hand resting between your shoulder blades while the other cradles the back of your head. he murmurs reassurances of it's okay, my love and i'm still here as your breathing regulates, timing the rise and fall of your chest to his own.

when you peek up at him, his smile is bittersweet and blurred through your dewy lashes. he catches a tear with his thumb, fingers settling on your jaw to keep your gaze on him. your eyes fall to the bright red mark on his cheek, certain to form into a nasty bruise. it's the same cheek you brushed rice from as you ate breakfast that morning. the lips you kissed when you woke up are split open, and the bangs you threaded your fingers through are congealed with his own blood.

"i thought you were going to die." saying it out loud finally makes you break, and you hide your face in his chest before your throat can close, arms sneaking beneath his jacket to wrap around him completely as your tears soak into his shirt.

"i didn't, though," he whispers into your hair, lips lingering on the crown of your head. with the way he's holding you up, you'd think you were the injured one. "i wouldn't let just anyone take me away from you so easily."

you orbit around him for the rest of the day.

your fingers are intertwined with his as his feet lazily kick against the exam bed while he gets his after mission checkup. your legs are splayed across his lap as he flips through his paperwork halfheartedly, much more interested in drawing hearts with his finger on the skin of your thighs. your arm is intertwined with his as you walk back to the dorms, stuck to his side, even when the sidewalks are empty, and the midafternoon sun makes your skin stick to his bandages. you only let go when the both of you are safely in his room, and he closes the door behind you.

you go through your after mission routine as if you were on auto-pilot. you grab your fluffiest towel, turning on the shower and making sure the water isn't too hot as he strips off his clothes. he leaves you with a kiss to your forehead before he disappears behind the bathroom door, and you're left alone with your thoughts.

you strip out of your work clothes, eye catching the dried stain of his blood on your shirt. you toss it aside as quickly as you saw it, grabbing a button down from his side of the closet. the sleeves hang off your hands, and you hold them up to your face, pressing your nose into the soft fabric.

you try to distract yourself by listening to the sound of water and watching the dust dance around through the beam of sunlight pooling in through his window as you fidget with the last button on his shirt. when he comes out, he's freshly bandaged, wearing the shirt he bought on your away mission to okinawa and the pajama pants you got him when you insisted he needed more comfy clothes. your dazai.

he sighs as he falls back against his futon lazily. he turns his face towards you, light catching in his pretty brown eyes. you thread your fingers through his hair; it's still a little damp, and the floral scent tells you he used your shampoo. his arms widen in an invitation for you to cuddle to his chest, lips pulling into a pout, as if he needed to try to convince you.

you're careful not to touch any of his injuries as you curl into his side. you nuzzle your face in his neck as his hand settles on your hip, your own resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. being held by dazai is usually your reprieve, but now, your chest tightens in anxiety; your shirt feels irritatingly thick, and even close enough to feel him breathe, you can't help but think it isn't enough.

your hand drifts from his chest to sneak under his shirt, resting against the edge of his ribcage. your thumb rubs across the raised skin of a stray scar as he shivers, fingers tightening on your waist. your hands cradle his sides where they can; there are rare spots on dazai’s skin that aren’t covered in bandages, and you linger on the warmth they offer, but it still isn’t close enough to quell the uneasiness curling around your ribs.

he whines when you sit up, but it slowly fades into a look of intrigue as you pull your shirt off. his hands fall to your lower back, grazing the elastic of your panties as you settle against his chest again, arching back into his hold. you rub your thumb across the cut on his lip, already scabbed over. gentle enough not to reopen the wound, you press your mouth to his, fingers skimming across the soft edge of his gauze as you cup his cheek. your other hand falls to the waistband of his pants, trying to undo the messily tied drawstring without detaching too far from him when he pulls away.

"do you really want to do this now?" you've never seen him so hesitant to take his pants off around you.

"yes," you pull against the fabric stubbornly. "i need to be closer. 'ts not enough."

you can feel his exhale through his nose as he presses his lips to your forehead, rubbing his hand up the curve of your spine.

"i put you through a lot today, didn't i?" you nod, eyes closing as his lips brush against your forehead again. he pulls your hand from his waistband, kissing along your knuckles as he sits up onto his forearms. "let me make it up to you, my darling."

even when you get off of him, he doesn't let you get too far. you slip off your pants and underwear as he undresses, left only in his second skin made of cotton before he lays you back down. his smile lacks his usual mischief, but there's still the glimmer in his eye that only shines when he's hovering above you like this.

his fingertips brush against your ear as he holds your face, working your lips open enough for this tongue to press inside. his nose nudges yours, and he pulls away just far enough for him to tilt your jaw. he kisses past the racing pulse point on your neck, nipping at the sensitive spot above your collarbones, until he finally reaches your heaving chest.

his hands graciously squeeze your breasts, thumbs circling around your nipples before he gently pinches them between his fingers and tugs. his hold lingers as his lips trail further down, until he reaches your stomach. you meet his eyes as his nose brushes your bellybutton, looking up at you as he blows a raspberry against your skin, beaming at the sound of your giggle.

"there's that pretty smile," he kisses the same spot before he scoots down, kneeled between you.

you widen your legs for him, reaching your hand down to run your nails against his scalp. he cups your thighs to open you further, lightly nipping at the soft, sensitive part of your skin. you shiver when his warm breath reaches your bare cunt, his tongue poking out to kitten lick against your clit. you can feel his smile against your skin when you whine, pulling him closer by his hair as he draws slow circles with his tongue. you start to squirm the faster he gets, and he presses a hand to your stomach to keep you still, the other teasing your entrance. he slips a finger inside you as his lips curl around your folds, easing another one in and curling it just right for your muscles go taut. your hand fists his hair, and he lets out a pretty whine when you tug a little too hard, a whimper of your own leaving your throat when it vibrates against you.

“wait,” it comes out as more of a sigh than a spoken word. he presses a kiss to your clit before he pulls back, your wetness smeared across his lips. goosebumps rise across your stomach as the warmth of his hand leaves you to stroke his swollen cock, and you watch little beads of pre leak out of his tip. “osamu,” your eyes water; you feel so cold without him touching you. “need you inside. now, please.”

he smiles, leaning down to brush your bangs out of your eyes before you grab his hand away, pressing a kiss to his palm. “i can never deny my pretty girl, especially when she's asking so nicely.”

you huff when his lips just barely brush against yours, leaning up to follow and meet in the middle as he caresses the outer skin of your thighs, pressing you down into his futon. his breath stalls as he pushes inside you, stretching you out in your favorite way; it's exactly what you needed, and you feel yourself sag backwards in relief. your lips are parted in a satisfied sigh, eyes heavy and lidded when you look up at him.

“beautiful,” he grabs your hand to kiss the side of your wrist, threading his fingers with your own and pressing them against the fabric of his quilt. he leans down until he’s so close, your chests graze one another, and you whine as his bandages rub against your sensitive nipples. “my beautiful girl, i can't believe you're all mine.”

you barely get out a yes, body melting when he starts to thrust. you squeeze his hand, the other gripping his bandaged arm as you try to match his pace.

even in his softness, he makes sure your body falls pliant beneath his own. he lifts your waist to go the slightest bit deeper, and it’s enough to graze that spot inside you that makes your toes curl and heart stop. he grins when you tense, crying out as your eyelids flutter. he hits it with the kind of precision only he can manage, groaning as you tighten around him.

“keep going,” you slot your lips against his sloppily, matching his thrusts as best you can with his body pressed down on you. “fuck, please, please keep going.”

you feel like you’re completely surrounded by him, and you try not to cry now of all times. you cross your ankles over his torso, tugging on his hair until he's as close as possible. you bury your sniffles in his neck, watery moans falling from your lips; he only thrusts harder when your nails dig into his bandages from where your arms wrap around his shoulders. you’re so close, and you cling to him, body tightening around him in every way possible. if you cling hard enough, maybe he’ll never leave again, always safe in your arms.

“i have you,” his breathes against your skin. “you can let go, it’s okay.”

you jolt when he touches your clit with his fingertips, circling it once, twice, and then you’re done for.

"i know, bella," he shushes you, kissing away your tears as you cum. you can barely process his gentle words, legs spasming against him as you release. the sound of skin and the squelch of your cunt is muffled as you start to come down, hips stalling from where they were thrusting upward into his own as your body goes limp from pleasure.

dazai's movements are growing messy, moans pitchy and strained, and you know he’s close too. you tighten your sore legs around his waist as his movements start to stutter. he pulls himself up on his knees to get as deep inside as possible, your heels digging into his back only encouraging him. he nuzzles his face into your neck as he cums, his sweet noises tickling the skin of your throat. you’re warm from the inside out, body sweaty and full as you hold him close as you can.

after a few moments of silence, your ankles slide off his body, nails gently playing with the baby hairs along his nape. your muscles finally release their tension as he pulls out, looking down at the little dribble of cum that leaks from you. he lifts his gaze to your face; your eyes are half lidded and unfocused, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“hey,” your eyes lazily shift to his. his hair is even messier than usual, his cheeks rosy and lips swollen. he looks so pretty, even with the gauze on his face, and your lips quiver thinking that you could’ve never seen him like this again. he taps his thumb against your jaw to get you to focus. “i’m right here.”

he exhales through his nose softly, laying his head down on your chest, offering you his hand to fidget with, the other finding it's place back on your hip.

“you know i always fear you’ll be taken from me,” his grip tightens on you protectively. “but knowing you feel the same hurts nearly just as much. you shouldn’t have to live with that burden, my love,” you focus on his fingers, bending and unbending them between your own; you’re certain if you do anything else, you really won't be able to stop crying. “to have someone like you care for someone like me so deeply…i don’t deserve it.”

you put your finger under his chin, tilting it up so he meets your eyes.

“i could never live without you, osamu.” you press a kiss to his lips when they open to speak. “you don’t have to believe me. i’m not going anywhere as long as you’re not either,” you brush his bangs back enough to press a kiss to his forehead, wishing that it could be so easy to soothe his mind. “it’s time for you to trust me now, okay?”

“...okay,” he whispers. he presses a kiss to your neck, right against your calming pulse. “i didn’t mean to scare you today.”

you feel the pressure behind your eyes building again, and he lifts his head when he hears your breath catch in your throat.

“no more of that, okay?” you nod, using the rough skin of his scabbed lips to ground you as he kisses every inch of your face before settling on your mouth. he nibbles the edge of your lip, soothing the spot with his tongue.

“is it too early to go to sleep?”

“it’s never too early for that,” he grins, poking the tip of your nose with his finger. “today was exhausting, wasn’t it?”

"mhm," your eyes are already heavy when he lays his head back down on your chest. the weight comforts you, as your heartbeat slows, adjusting to beat in time with his own.

you’re only barely awake when you feel him press a lingering kiss to the center of your chest.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers. “you know i couldn't live without you either."

BSD MASTERLIST

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai smut #bsd smut #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai imagines #bsd imagines #ʚ shhh ɞ #💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖

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alemi-i · 8 months

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stars in your eyes :

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

# lmh x afab : reader ! ( fluff + smut )

cw : smut , exhibitionism , nonidol!au , degradation ( f rec. ) , slight overstim , creampie , brat reader , minho is a brat tamer though , face slapping ( 2 ) , namecalling : slut , whore , baby , brat . unprotected sex ( don’t try this at home ) !!

a/n ; hehe 🤗 im not very confideng witb my smut writing skills so JUST KEEP THAT IN MIND BEFORE READING….

wc : 1,726 ?!

an arm encased your body, resting around your waist. camping with minho and his members felt extremely therapeutic to you.

the sun had already fallen, and you all had watched as it sunk into the ground. what you were truly waiting for was the shining stars that would litter across the sky.

you first discovered your passion for stargazing when your sweet boyfriend took you out during midnight, so you both could admire the glitter in the sky; you weren’t sure whether to look at the stars that strayed across the sky, or the star that beamed just by your side.

admiring the sparkles, you hear shuffling beside your and minho’s bodies, your head cocks up to see seungmin and jeongin heading towards their tent.

“i’m off to bed!” seungmin declared, lips forming a light grin as he sees jeongin trail after him. everybody exchanges a goodnight to the two youngest boys, and your eyes meet with one particular star.

“d’you wanna head back to the tent too?” minho asked, voice hushed and honey-like. you simply nod, grinning the same way he does. “me and minho are off too!” you announce, both of you are quick on your feet, hands and fingers interlocking.

“goodnight!” he exclaims, waving everyone goodbye as they greet you both goodnight.

he drags you into your shared tent and you both lay down on the blanket that pillowed your sides.

minho spoons you whilst gently running his hands through your hair. you feel your eyelids flutter, on the verge of closing shut– until you feel a tug at your scalp.

you whimper, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to stifle any other sounds that could escape. your hips grind against his, feeling the suppressed bulge in his pants push against your ass.

“what’s wrong baby? you’re grinding all over me.” he teases, whispering into your ear. “m-min..” you try to find the words, but your tongue falls short, instead releasing a breathy whine as he grinds into your back rougher.

“cat got your tongue?” he taunts, halting his movements to let you breathe.

“yeah, you.” you spat, panting heavily from the stimulation. your head turns to face minho, who has now sat up. you turn to lay on your back.

he raises a brow, eyes narrowed and dark. he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “don’t be a brat,” he growled. “you and i both know it’s only me who could make you feel good.”

he was right, but no way were you going to admit that. “yeah right, you wish.” you retort, ignoring the wetness that dampened your cotton panties.

his hand wraps around your neck, the other coming down to smack you across the face. you wince, mouth agape and cunt throbbing. he pulls you up, fingers tight around your neck, restricting your airflow.

his gaze is heavy on you, making you feel smaller than you already are. his tongue pokes at his cheek. your vision is blurry from the lack of air– his fingers finally leave your neck to grip your jaw.

“you think you’re better than me, hm?” he questions, your eyes locking with his.

“you know i am.” you mutter, a grin forming on your lips. you weren’t sure where you were getting this confidence, but it felt good to finally put minho in his place for once.

he chuckles, releasing you from his hold. “then show me.”

your eyes are wide, and he cocks a brow. “what? y’want me to repeat myself?” he mocks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.

“shut up– i know what you said.” you hiss, shoving the waistband of your shorts between your fingertips and pushing it down.

he sucks in a breath, staring at the way your pussy has absolutely drenched your panties. he looks at you expectantly, and you quickly succumb to his gaze; your panties are off in not more than a second, and you whimper at the way your hot cunt is exposed to the cool air.

“what are you waiting for?” he sighs, feigning disappointment. “won’t you show me how good you make yourself feel?” his voice is thick and taunting you.

“s-shut up.” you mutter, yet your hands travel down your body anyway, shivering at your own touch.

your fingers find your clit, rubbing soft circles around it. your whines pierce through the silence.

minho shoves two fingers into your mouth. you instinctively begin sucking. “stop being so loud would you? the other members are trying to sleep.” your mind backtracks, had he cast a spell on you? how did his words alone erase such significant memory.

“or, is if that you want them to hear?” he whispers, and you’re quick to shake your head ‘no’. your free hand spread the folds of your cunt apart, your whines muffled by the fingers in your mouth.

you quickly shove two fingers inside, fucking yourself on them. you quickly realize the stimulation just isn’t enough– but your dignity is on the line here. you push in a third finger, moaning at the stretch.

“does it feel good, hm?” his eyes glancing at your wet, finger-filled cunt. you hum, signaling yes. “better than this?” his fingers exit your mouth, producing a pop sound.

your eyes travel to his hands, that are quickly unhooking his belt buckle. he tugs down at his pants, revealing the black boxers you watched him put on earlier that day. you continue thrusting your fingers in and out, eyes locked on his bulge.

his cock is throbbing beneath the cloth, and your pussy becomes wetter. you bite your lip watching his boxers being pulled down, releasing his hard cock. you suppress a moan, eyes lingering on the dick you know too far and well.

his tip is angry; flushing red and leaking precum. you observe the way it twitches whenever your fingers sink knuckles deep into your cunt.

“y-yeah. way better than that.” you lie through your teeth, hand rubbing quicker circles on your clit. it felt good– however you couldn’t help but desire his fingers inside you instead.

“lying slut.” he lowly grunts, a sharp sting spreading across your cheek. your whimpers increase in volume, before they’re suddenly turning into begging and babbles.

“fuck.. min– ‘m sorry! need your cock, please–“ “i-i lied, please fill me up!” you continue to beg, tears dripping down your face. he pulls your fingers away from your cunt; you’re whining at every single touch that’s his. his fingers, his hands, just his.

“you think you deserve my cock after being such a brat?” he spat, voice hushed to prevent waking someone up.

all you could respond with are rambled apologies, praises, begging.

“so dumb and i’ve barely even touched you.” you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you can’t bring yourself to snap back.

“‘m so s-sorry, min!” you cried, before you’re suddenly moaning loudly, whining at the sudden stretch in your cunt. “s-shut up, dumb whore.” he pants, sharply thrusting into you, walls slippery and tight.

your hand covers your mouth as you spew muffled moans into it. though, you quickly notice that the stimulation didn’t feel fulfilling.

he deliberately thrusted into you, just missing your sweet spot. each thrust getting louder, faster– but not exactly deeper.

“what’s wrong baby?” he taunts, his voice is breathy and rough. your hand leaves your mouth, still biting back moans that threaten to spill.

“min.. min, deeper!” you sob, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. your eyes roll back.

thankfully, he doesn’t resist, allowing his tip to kiss and poke at your sweet spot; your walls closing in tighter around his dick and your eyes squeeze shut. he groans, pounding into you with little mercy. your walls are squeezing him, while his fingers grip and bruise your hips.

“stupid slut, i thought you didn’t need my cock, huh?“ he hissed, hips stilling as he’s deep inside you.

you whine, grinding against him. “‘m sorry, can’t live w-without your.. c-cock.” you whimper, your eyes flutter open to see his gorgeous face.

he scoffs, thrusting into you again– harder. “that’s right, can’t live without my cock, hm?” your cunt clenches around him, and you feel him pulsate against your walls.

“oh shit.. so good baby, feel so good around me.” he praises, and you moan in content. “f-fuck min! g-gonna cum!” you sob, squeezing him tighter. “shit,” he drags, head thrown back. “d-d’you really deserve to cum, hm? after being such a brat?” he groans, hips stuttering slightly.

“g-gonna be good, i promise! p-please, wanna cum..” your whines grow louder, as you’re inching towards your orgasm.

“then cum.” he commands, your body subconsciously obeying. you see stars flickering over your vision. your juices drip down onto his cock, but he doesn’t stop his thrusts.

“you’re finished when i am.” he whispers, although it’s obvious he won’t last long.

he drags his cock against your fluttering walls, he’s throbbing inside you making you clench around him. you moan loudly, overstimulated and unbothered about the fact your friends are just next door.

“shit– gonna cum. you’re gonna take it, okay? take my cum like a good fucking slut.” he curses, voice thick and gruff.

you babble multiple “yes”s, repeatedly squeezing around him to milk his cock. “want your cum!” you sob, squeezing him one more time before he’s dumping his hot seed in you. you whimper, wincing as he’s thrusting his load deeper into you.

once he pulls out, you whine at the feeling of emptiness.

“you okay?” his touch is now gentle on you: pushing the uninvited strand away from your face, wiping the droplets of sweat off of your forehead, and gently pressing a kiss to your lips.

you nod, slightly shaking from the ‘workout’. smiling when minho’s arms embrace you as you doze off to sleep.

you’re awoken to the sound of giggling and yelling coming from outside the tent. you look around and minho isn’t by your side. you pout, before sitting up and unzipping the flimsy entrance.

before exiting, you notice you’re dressed in minho’s shirt. it hangs upon your body loosely, but you feel so warm in it.

you struggle to get out, legs slightly wobbling. the sun flashes your eyes, and as soon as your presence is noticed, everyone bursts into shouts and laughter.

“minho!” the seven boys teasingly yell, all in synchronization.

once your eyes adjust to the light, you see your boyfriend’s face hiding in his hands, and ears flushed a deep red.

so they heard.

#skz x reader #skz fluff #skz smut #lee know x reader #lee minho smut #lee know smut #skz imagines #lemi’s fics !! 😽

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 2 months

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 96

Part 1 Part 95

Mom makes him go home when he starts dosing on Steve’s hospital bed. But it’s okay because she kisses Steve’s cheek before she leaves, and Eddie and Wayne stay parked by his side.

The connection’s easier now. It’s like all that time straining for Steve has snapped something into place. He can feel them all the time, a warm buzzing in his chest. He wonders if he runs hot now. If the warmth will diffuse through his whole being, make coats obsolete even in the dead of winter.

Hopper is waiting for them in the waiting room, El burrowed into his side. She looks wan, and tired, drooping into her extravagant coat, eyeliner running down her cheeks like she’s been crying. Something inside him twists when he looks at her.

Before he can untangle that knot of emotion, Hopper stands up, both hands slapping against his knees first the same way Mike’s dad does before he gets up from his recliner. “You ready to go?” he asks, not looking away from Mom.

When Will glances up, Mom’s smiling up at Hopper in a way he doesn’t want to think about. The adults talk quietly in front, leaving El to stumble tiredly along beside Will. She’s staring at the side of his face. Will can’t bring himself to look back.

“Steve,” she says, sounding the word out and making it longer like it still tastes foreign on her tongue. “He is okay?”

When Will gets up the courage to look over, her eyes are big and worried. He smiles at her helplessly. It’s almost funny how innocent she looks; like she’s a bunny dressed up in punk clothes. “He’ll be okay.”

She smiles, small and close lipped, but it still beams out of her like the sun. Will tilts his head to the side and tries to see what Mike sees in her. He wants to hide her in Castle Byers, build a fortress around her, and keep her away from all the lab people for the rest of her life.

Is that howMike felt, hiding her in his basement, giving her frozen eggos and keeping his mouth shut?

But then her lips thin and she looks forward again. The feelings vanishes. It’s just El, hia friend, despite how much of Mike’s attention she’d snapped up just by being herself.

“I’m glad,” she says, looking at Hopper’s broad back as she takes two steps for each one of his.

It’s quiet after that, the way it always is after; all of them too brittle and bruised and bone-deep tired for conversation.

Hopper’s truck rat-a tat-tats itself to life in the hospital parking lot. The radio croons out something quiet and thrumming until Hopper reaches over to shut it off.

El’s heads smushed into the window, vibrating against the pot-holed roads of Hawkins.

Will’s so tired he’s wide awake.

He watches the familiar buildings of Hawkins flicker by. It's been a long time since knowing his surroundings brought any comfort.

Monsters could live behind every door, every tree, every smiling face.

He’s not sure any of them will ever feel safe again.

Will closes his eyes, locking the scenery out so he can focus on the bundle of warmth in his chest. They’re still huddled together, two sparks merging in his chest.

The past couple days have been a necessary violation of Eddie’s private feelings. He’d bared them all with love confessions and grasping hands, trying to pull Steve back from the edge of immolation.

He’s not even sure Steve knows, hopes he does. Steve deserves to hold that love delicately between his palms and choose what to do with it.

He won’t crush it, even if it’s unreturned. He’ll hold it gently like he always does.

Will doesn’t realize he fell asleep, or that they’d arrived home until he’s in free-fall. It feels like one of those falling dreams where you wake up solidly in the middle of your bed, but this time he really is tumbling, only Jonathan’s arms keeping him from hitting the gravel.

“Are you okay?” he asks shakily as he pulls Will into his chest, holding him tight enough to hurt. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Mom murmurs, wrapping them both up in her arms, chin landing solidly on Jonathan’s shoulder, sandwiching Will between their bodies. “Everyone’s fine, right Will?”

Will murmurs his affirmation, feeling groggy and confused in the light of day.

“I was with Nancy,” Jonathan whispers. “I was just with Nancy, and you were–I almost–”

“Shh,” Mom cuts him off, reaching up to cradle his face and smile up at him. Will barely catches the edge of his watering eyes from his restricted vantage point between them. “Everyone’s fine.”

“I should have been he–”

“Jonathan,” Mom interrupts again, sharper this time. “Everyone is fine. You deserve a normal life.”

“But Will–”

“I’m fine!” Will cuts in this time.

Jonathan pulls back, looking down at him with worried, droopy eyes. “And Steve? Mike said he was possessed.”

Will feels that bundle of warmth in his heart, lets it shine through his smile as he looks up at his brother. “He’ll be okay.” As Jonathan droops with relief, Will feels his smile turn cheeky. “Eddie will never let you forget that you were on a date while we were fighting monsters, though.”

Jonathan closes his eyes, pained while Mom laughs.

It’s not until they’re walking toward the front door that Will notices the lack of demo-dog bodies. There’s still puddles of black oil-slick blood, but everything else looks normal. Who covered their tracks? The lab? Hopper?

He settles down for the debrief, pillowing his head on Jonathan’s shoulder as Hopper’s even tones flit through his brain.

Maybe familiar places no longer hold any comfort, but Jonathan’s bony frame is enough to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Part 97

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary @practicallybegging

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #will byers #steddie upsidedown au #my fic #Steve pov: I'm a wretch and a monster and everything is my fault #will pov: steve's so comforting :)#also Jonathan freaking out because he missed everything is something that is so fun to me. He's like. I'm a terrible brother!#Meanwhile Nancy only has low stakes in the whole thing. And she never got involved so by the time she knew to worry about Mike.#She already knew he was fine. so her main reaction is feeling left out.#Nancy is so fun in this AU because her inciting character incident (Barb's death) shapes so much of who she is #that we have like maybe one episode of characterization to work off of wrt what she was like before #anyway I'm sick so we'll see how much writing I can actually get done while feverish!

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verspia · 4 months

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—𝐢 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

You frown in thought as you cradle a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hands, huddling a little close to the heat emanating from the fire place, which you’re seated in front of.

Christmas is one of your favorite holidays of, and this year, you celebrate it with your boyfriend, Oscar. Normally, with the end of the season, he would be in Australia with his family, spending the holiday under the blazing sun, not under frosted snowflakes and the biting cold of London with you.

The thought makes you pout a little, guilt eating at you for keeping him away from his family during the holidays, as if he isn’t apart from them for most of the year anyway.

Originally, you both were meant to go together, but with christmas being near, the visa application process had taken a lot longer than you’d both expected and that meant that you were only eligible to travel to down under after New Years.

You had insisted that Oscar leave without you, urging him to spend the christmas holiday with his parents and sisters, but he had resisted, arguing that he would make it up to them and it was far too late to book a flight, what with the rush that came during winter break, and you had reluctantly agreed.

That didn’t stop you from feeling guilty though, but you refrained from thinking about it more, knowing that there wasn’t much you could do about it.

Instead you wondered what you could gift your boyfriend for your first christmas together.

You knew that Oscar wasn’t much of a material person, and that he was happy with anything you would give him, but you wanted to do something meaningful.

Given the fact that gifts were your love language, both giving and receiving, it was important to you that you find the perfect gift for Oscar.

You worried your lip between your teeth as you pondered, when your eyes lit up with an epiphany, and you stood up abruptly, abandoning your hot chocolate on the kitchen top, grabbing your keys and heading out to the store immediately.

You payed no mind to the snow that nipped at your face, staining your cheeks a rosy red as you hurried out, charged with excitement for the gift that you had in mind.

When Oscar awakes on Christmas morning, you are not where you’re supposed to be, cuddled up in his arms, and the loss of your presence next to him startles him awake.

He steps into the living room, rubbing away any trace of bleariness from his eyes and finds you there, still in your pyjamas and with one of his hoodies on, Home Alone playing on the tv screen.

Your smile is radiant, and your zealousness for christmas is almost childlike. His heart warms at the sight of you and he smiles widely, trudging over to you.

“Why aren’t you in bed, love”

You turn around at the his voice, beaming impossibly wider, and your eyes sparkle with delight as you spot him.

“Oscar!” His name on your lips always makes him giddy, but the exhilaration in your tone today is tremendous, and vastly contagious, to the extent that Oscar begins to wear the same excitement you do.

“It’s Christmas! I was waiting for you,” You grab Oscar, pulling him on to couch with you, “We gotta open the gifts, Oh you’ll love what i’ve gotten you!”

Oscar stares fondly at you, “I’m happy with anything you give me, baby, you know that.”

You nod at him, not really paying attention, as you stand up and pull him along towards the direction of the christmas tree that you both had decorated together, weeks prior.

He happily lets you drag him along, and soon, both of you have unraveled the presents from your friends and family.

You open the gift that Oscar has gotten you, and gasp in elation, throwing yourself at Oscar, Thank you’s and I love you’s falling from your mouth as you pepper his face with kisses.

He laughs as he holds on to your waist, and then finally, both of you turn to the last present, that is inside a conspicuous bag, glittered golden.

You move over a little, eyes fixed on Oscar as he opens the bag, pulling out a cardboard box that is too, shimmering golden, with a red ribbon holding it together.

He unwraps it, and the sides of the box fall flat in five sections, each have attached a packet of Tim Tams on it, and another box stands proud in the middle.

Oscar uncovers the lid, and another lid appears, the words Merry Christmas on it and much like the first time, the sides fall into sections, each holding polaroids of you and Oscar.

The pictures are of monumental moments of your relationship, His first sprint win and you congratulating him with a kiss, his first podium as he smiles brightly, you wrapped up in his arms, smiling equally as bright. There’s photos of Oscar surprising you at your graduation ceremony, and kissing you when you win a debate’s competition, as well as a few pictures of your first date, and first kiss.

He pulls away the last lid, and finds a heart shaped letter inside, which he picks up and discovers a keychain for his car.

The keychain is shaped as a heart, and he examines it closely, accidentally clicking it open and finds both his and your initials together in a smaller heart inside.

He breathes softly, a little baffled at the thoughtfulness of the gift, and looks up at you, adoration clear in his eyes.

He’s a little breathless as he whispers I love you to you, and you smile shyly at him.

“Do you like it?”

Your eyes glimmer with hope and a little uncertainty, and Oscar pulls you into his lap, kissing you softly.

He’s not good with words, so he hopes to show to you just how happy you make him, pulling you closer than you’d ever thought possible, kissing you deeper to convey his appreciation to you.

You both are enveloped in a warmth that contrasts the dreary weather outside, but it’s clear that you both have a jolly christmas, under the shimmering pine tree.

This was inspired by this

didn’t proofread so pls don’t mind any errors

#formula 1 #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #max verstappen x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #mclaren #christmas #fanfic #papaya #fandom #oscar x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x yn

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familyvideostevie · 6 months

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october twenty-third

day twenty-three: eddie munson you and eddie go apple picking…and hook up in the parking lot | 18+, mdni, fem!reader, established relationship, car sex, unprotected sex | 1.8k detailed content warnings: fem!reader, sex in a car in a parking lot, mentioned oral (m receiving) but not on page, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, riding, creampie, dirty talk

“Please explain to me what makes apple picking a romantic date.”

You shiver at the bottom of the ladder. Eddie climbs down a few rungs before jumping the rest, four apples cradled in his arm.

“You need more imagination, babe,” he says. You open the bag and he puts them on top of the pile you’ve collected thus far and then takes it from you.

You loop your arm through his and start off down the row. “I want your opinion.”

He hums. “Well, we both like the leaves, right? It’s pretty. And the weather is pretty nice.”

“It’s cold!”

“I said nice, sweetheart, not warm.” He taps his chin. “Oh, you look very cute, obviously. And so do I.”

That gets you to laugh. You’re wearing like, three layers, two of which are his, and a hat you found in his van.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“And we get apples. And doughnuts and cider.”

You can’t wait to get back to the farmhouse and warm up with some treats. “Valid point.”

Eddie leans close, even though there is no one around. “But best of all…”

“Go on.”

“Once the sun goes down, this parking lot is the best place to hook up.”

Oh, so that’s why he insisted you come in the late afternoon.

“You brought me here to have sex in your van?”

“I might have,” he says. His nose is a little pink. He looks at you with his stupid big brown cow eyes.

You’re used to Eddie by now and you love him and all of his ridiculous antics. He’s romantic when he wants to be and boyish and silly in the same breath. Honestly, you were probably going to go back to your place and fuck anyway, so why not make the evening a little bit more interesting?

“Okay,” you tell him. He beams and kisses your cheek sloppily.

He buys you all the donuts and cider you want and you take your spoils back to the van to wait. Eddie puts on some music and you chat and watch the orange rays slowly disappear behind the trees.

Darkness falls.

“You sure no one is going to think it’s weird we’re parked here?” He put the van in the back corner of the lot near the trees.

“Nah,” he says. “There’s an inn on the grounds, remember? People park here overnight but no one comes to look. I swear.”

“Done this before, have you?”

Eddie grins. “Harrington told me about it.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, great. You took advice from Steve Harrington on where to fuck your girlfriend.”

Eddie turns down the music and climbs back to the bench. The rest of the van is full of junk — blankets, milk crates of Hellfire supplies, a weird looking trash can shield that you don’t know why he has.

“This isn’t even the weirdest place we’ve done it,” he reminds you. You brush the sugar crumbs from your hands and follow him. He pats his lap and you straddle him.

“Remind me?” His hands rest heavy on your hips. You lick your bottom lip.

“The equipment shed at the pool,” he says. “Last summer.”

You remember. “What did you do, again?” Now you’re teasing him. He picks up on it and presses his fingers a little harder into your skin.

“Pretty sure I kissed you,” he says. He leans in, ghosting his lips over yours. “Kissed you so good you were begging for me to touch you, yeah?”

You close the gap. It’s not a bruising kiss, but a slow one. You trace the seam of his lips with your tongue and he opens. He keeps on hand on your hip so you don’t fall and cups your face with the other. You fist your hands in his shirt and grind on him as light as you can manage.

Something you’ve learned about Eddie is that he loves kissing you. He’s said he would make out for hours if you let him. He loves to lick into your mouth, loves to pull your bottom lip between his teeth. He loves the spit and the swollen hue of your lips after he’s nibbled on them.

But you also like to get things going. You pull away from him and he latches onto your neck, nibbling on your skin and then soothing it with his tongue.

“What did you do next?”

Eddie pulls away with a pop. “Pretty sure you got on your knees and sucked me dry.”

“Sounds like me.”

He presses his thumb into the corner of your mouth. “Always look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

You swallow. “Want me to?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve got another plan.” He taps your thighs and you stand, hunched over in the van. “Take off your pants?”

“I’m not letting you fuck me on the gross floor, Eddie,” you remind him. He laughs. You unbutton your jeans and push them down, bracing yourself on his shoulder as you kick off your shoes, too. He reaches out and snaps the waistband of your underwear with one finger.

“C’mon, baby,” he coos. “All the way. I want you bare.” That sends a bolt of pleasure between your legs.

You do as he says. “Satisfied?” Your boyfriend looks hungry.

“Course I am. Look at you!” You’re half-naked, crouched in his van, his flannel and t-shirt on top. What a weird dude. “Okay, so, lie back on the bench and put one leg up against the back, okay?”

It’s a bit tight, but you do as he says. Your other leg hangs off the edge and you’re spread wide open for him where he’s now kneeling, just barely fitting between the bench and the door.

“I feel like I’m posing for a painting,” you mutter. Eddie’s hands trail up your bare skin.

“Oh, you look like one.” You tilt your head so you look down the slope of your body to find him staring at you. Well, a very specific part of you. “Have I told you that you have a perfect cunt?” he says.

You clench around nothing and laugh breathily. “Once or twice.” He drags two fingers through your folds. You’ve felt your arousal pooling since you got on his lap.

“God, sweetheart,” he groans. “You’re soaked. Been wet since I suggested this, hm?”

“You gonna touch me or what?”

Without warning, he leans down and presses the flat of his tongue to your clit. You whine, hand pressed against the car door behind you. And then it’s all bets off — no more teasing, no more dirty banter. Eddie laps at you like a man starved. The angle is a little weird and the leg you’ve got against the bench is cramping a bit, but god it feels good.

“Yes, Eddie, right there, oh fuck —” He’s too far away for you to really grab his hair so you settle for shoving your shirt up and bra down and rolling your nipple between your fingers. “So good,” you praise him. “It feels so good.”

He sucks on your clit and slides two fingers into you, but you’re not as close to an orgasm as you want to be. His fingers are thick, capable of great things, but you need more.

You manage to tap him with the foot on the ground. He pulls up, mouth shiny. He licks his lips. “Can I help you?”

You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t so damn horny. “I’d like to ride you now. If that’s amenable?”

Eddie literally moans. “As if I’d say no to that.” You catch your breath as he shucks off his shoes, pants, and boxers. He gets back on the bench and you sit up to make room, admiring him in the dim of the van. You know every inch of him by now but fuck, you really love his dick.

You spit in your hand and stroke him a few times before he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “You said something about riding?”

“Impatient, aren’t we?” You straddle him and you’re back where you started, only this time down a few items of clothing. He helps you line up and you sink onto him quickly because you know you can take it.

“Fuck,” you hiss together. “It never gets old,” he says, ragged. “Being inside you.”

“I could just sit here,” you say, face in his neck. “See how long we last.” Its appealing. You’ve tried it a few times, his cock hot and pulsing inside you, both trying desperately to keep still. It’s relaxing in a really strange way, comfortable and intimate.

“Maybe another time,” Eddie says. He kisses your cheek, your nose, your lips. He tastes like you. “I…I’m too wound up right now.”

“From just fingering me?”

“C’mon,” he whines. “You know how magic your cunt is, don’t you sweetheart?” He bucks his hips and you both groan. “Just looking at it gets me hard as hell.”

You reward his compliment by rocking back and forth in his lap. He grabs your hips hard enough to bruise as you start to lift yourself a bit and slam back down. It’s not fast, it’s not desperate, it’s not the most comfortable place to be doing this, but it’s hard and deep and that seems to be working for both of you.

“Gonna have to — fuck — wash the seat after this,” he grunts. “Gonna make a mess all over it, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one who is gonna come inside me.” His thumb finds your clit and you bite back a scream.

“Don’t want everyone who sits here to know how you took my cock, do we? How wet you are, how tight, how hot —”

The van is probably shaking but you don’t care.

“Eddie,” you gasp. “I’m close, I —”

He starts to lift his hips more, slamming into you. The tip of him brushes the perfect spot inside you and his thumb drags across your clit just right and then you’re coming, gripping his cock like a vice as you tremble in his hold.

He’s not far behind. “God, you feel so good, sweetheart, gonna be so full of me —”

You feel him spurt inside you and gasp your name as you pant into his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “God, fuck.” You both catch your breath. The van feels much hotter than before and smells like sex.

“You sure made a mess alright,” you say. He laughs and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“If you keep it all in there till we get home I’ll clean you up.”

You just had an orgasm and his words make you feel on the verge of another right away. “Is that a promise?”

“Why don’t we find out?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut

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enwonz · 2 months

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♫ i can see you x sparks fly | y.jw

as your eternal academic rival, you and jungwon have always been at odds - that is, until he becomes the one person you want to trust your heart with in spite of it all. after all, all’s fair in love and war, no?

read the rest of the series here! (for taglist)

pairing ➭ academic rival jungwon x reader

genre ➭ academic rivals to dubious to lovers, hurt/comfort, academic validation craving, jungwon is reader’s sole comfort

w/c ➭ 5.4k

warnings ➭ slightly suggestive (they’re adults but no nsfw y’all), reader and jungwon both have terrible coping mechanisms for stress, there is a detailed scene where y/n loses her shit in a bathroom, both are academic validation simps, theyre not enemies they just. envy each other and sometimes wanna kiss kiss fall in love, y/n has an inferiority complex and has a tendency to think jungwon’s better than her, she hates herself as much as i hate myself

a/n ➭ to my acad validation peeps…look no further! jungwon and y/n…their ways of coping with themselves are mine. i just split myself in two for them, don’t come for my lonely ass lmao. for more context, look at the bottom a/n!

“done?”

the sun’s beginning to set, its dimming rays beaming through the glass windows of the library. a quick glance at your watch tells you it’s 6.30pm, and that you’ve been studying for the whole day. talk about a productive saturday.

you remove your headphones, glancing over your shoulder. you were planning on staying till the librarian shoos you out. jungwon seems to have other plans, though.

yang jungwon, your rival in just about everything since you were kids. tied with you in every single subject, even PE. he’s everything you are and more – good-looking, funny, and a genius, to top it all off, and he never lets you forget it, what with all the achievements he’s gotten over you. it’s not that he doesn’t work hard and you’re jealous of some natural academic gift he’s got, it’s the fact that you study just as hard as he does, do as much as he does, and yet people will always see him before you. and now, even when you’re at university, he’s still fighting with you for the top spot, for every position available. your circle of friends have remained the same, so like it or not, you’re stuck together.

you begin to stuff your notes into your backpack. “well, i might as well follow you back to the dorms. yunjin’s been lecturing me to stop walking back alone.” gathering your things, you leave, waving to the librarian as you attempt to put some distance between you and jungwon.

very quickly, jungwon moves beside you so his shoulder is almost pressed up against yours. “you sure took your time. if i hadn’t come to find you, the last bus across campus would’ve come and gone by the time you finished.”

“oh, don’t exaggerate. why’d you come here in the first place, when all you do is complain?”

you want to say you hate the boyish grin that breaks out across his face, but that would be a lie, and you’ve done way too much lying today to yourself. “what else? i came here for you.”

“ugh, you-!”

“you ears are red, haha.”

your bus pulls into the stop, and in a thoughtless attempt at revenge, you grab his arm and yank him up the steps so he’s even closer to you than before. you don’t miss the way his skin flushes hot. “now yours are too.” leading him to a seat in the back, you pinch his side. he returns your…affection with a jab in the cheek.

it’s a game of cat and mouse with jungwon, although neither of you can say for sure who’s chasing and who’s ducking away. whatever this is, it’s safer.

at least you’re not actually fighting anymore.

here’s the thing: yang jungwon has this journal. every time he’s upset or on the verge of a mental breakdown, he trauma dumps into that journal. it’s the only way he doesn’t cave from the stress, and you and your friends learned very quickly that if that notebook was out, everyone had to leave him alone for at least ten minutes, then he’d be himself again. one day, you’d been studying together when a draft blew the pages of his journal open, straight to the page where he’d written something that was definitely not for your eyes — or anyone’s for that matter.

“i hate her, so so much i wish she was dead. maybe in a different lifetime, i’ll be better than her, have her beat for once.” you didn’t even need to finish reading what he wrote before you were clawing at his throat, because who else could it be but you?

and it hurt to read it, because what could it mean than yang jungwon was jealous of you? what could it mean that the one person you simultaneously hated and envied, hated you back for all the same reasons? it wasn’t fair that you couldn’t even hate him peacefully.

it only got worse from there, because all it took was a couple minutes of yelling at each other before that ass of a human being decided it was a good idea to tell you it was “three years ago”, and that it shouldn’t matter as much as it did, as if that was supposed to help. and you’d screamed at him, screamed and cried and shoved him and-

his lips were against yours.

you would’ve pushed him off, but as soon as it came it went, and he’d pulled away faster than you could think. “i don’t hate you,” he’d managed to make out, his voice shaky as he tried and failed to recollect his thoughts. “i just…i can’t hate you. not anymore.”

hell, maybe it was the attention, or some sort of sick stress outlet. you wish it were the latter, because then that would’ve been a hell lot easier. either way, you haven’t spoken about it since then, reason being you’re totally out of your comfort zone when it comes to this guy. plus, he’d taken your first kiss, although he didn’t have to know that. having put your all into your academic life, you haven’t really thought about dating anyone at all. sure, there were a few people whom you’d thought were fairly attractive, but you had never cared to do anything more than that (much less with yang freaking jungwon). your ultimate goal has always been to have jungwon beat. you sort of achieved that, you suppose. the boy’s now a mess when it comes to you.

since then, you’ve been using each other as stress relief. stupid, really, but with that annoyingly good kiss still hanging between the two of you, you could only keep coming back for more, waiting for lulls in your timetables to meet up. one thing would lead to another, and…well.

“finished your revision yet?” you probe. if he says no, you’ll just drag him off to finish it. but he’s jungwon. if he says he’s gonna do something, he does it. although it’s sort of disappointing if he just parts ways with you, even after he came all this way to find you so far away from the dorms.

jungwon sighs. “what do you take me for? of course i did, or you’d get mad at me. and i know you’re free for the rest of the day too.” he rummages through his backpack, before handing you a cap and mask. “put these on, i need a big brute to help me buy and carry groceries back to my dorm.”

“and who better than me, huh?”

jungwon grins, waving a matching set in your face. “you’re the multifaceted necessity in my life. my swiss knife, if you please.”

you end up at a mall just a few kilometres away from campus. apparently, he needs laundry pods, vegetables and some sort of microfibre cloth that “can only be blue, mind you.” according to him, if a hand towel doesn’t match his dorm’s colour scheme, the whole world falls apart.

(for the record, his dorm room does look nice. but no one has to know that you know.)

pushing a shopping cart along the aisles, a bag of spinach catches your eye. “how’s this for vegetables?”

he shakes his head. “lettuce is better for hotpot.”

“since when did you plan on having hotpot?”

“it’s our dinner, y/n.”

“…”

he sighs. “i’m paying for the groceries.”

“well in that case…” you move to grab a few packets of meat from the fridge. “you won’t mind if i add these, will you?”

you don’t miss his odd gaze on you as he pushes the cart towards the checkout counter. “not at all.”

so much for the grocery shopping.

dinner is long forgotten as you find yourself pinned up against the walls of jungwon’s dorm, his grip on your waist oddly comforting. your fingers are tangled in his dark locks, pulling him in deeper, but it’s not enough. it’s never enough.

it feels so, so wrong, to be rendezvousing with him, and maybe he knows it too, because when he finally pulls away, there’s a guilty look on his face. “strike two…?” he grins sheepishly. he’s a little out of breath, and you hate to admit it, but it’s kind of hot. (actually, it’s the fifth time this week, but who’s counting? definitely not you.)

how? you’d maintained the status quo for more than a decade. hell, you two are supposed to loathe each other. knowing yang jungwon has some sort of feelings for you must be messing with your brain.

jungwon’s lips latch onto your earlobe, fingers trailing down your nape. it’s crazy, the way every brush of his lips sends your head reeling. over his shoulder, you catch a glimpse of his roommate’s neatly folded quilt, and a thought pops into your mind. “when’s sunoo getting back?”

“he just left for a party, he won’t be back for a bit,” jungwon murmurs. sunoo happens to be part of a circle of close friends consisting of yunjin, sunoo and ni-ki (and jungwon, although you could never admit he’s a friend). you’re a close-knit group, withholding no secrets with each other. more often than not, they’ve been caught up in your fights with jungwon, although those haven’t happened in a while, for obvious reasons.

you hum against his lips, fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into his skin as you try to steady your breathing. “think the water’s boiled by now, get off.” it’s a half-hearted order, and you’re pretty sure jungwon sees through your bullshit. what was it, something about glass houses?

“don’t wanna.”

“jungwon come on-” the sound of a lock in a key slices through the air, jolting you and jungwon apart. panic flares in your chest, and you scramble to shove jungwon far away from you. “hurry up, hurry up.”

sunoo’s voice drifts past the door. “must’ve left it in here somewhere, don’t know how i could’ve forgotten my id of all things.” the door opens to reveal a sheepish-looking sunoo, flanked by your friends yunjin and riki, who don’t look very pleased. their expressions, however, change the moment they spot you in the corner. “y/n?! what are you doing here?”

one look at the tiny hotpot contraption on the table, paired with the small portions of food is all they need to put two and two together. yunjin frowns, marching past sunoo. “ohh no, you two in the same room alone is a big no from me. by the time we get back, the whole place is gonna look like hell, with all the screaming and fire.” her disapproving glance at you makes you want to shrivel up and die on the spot.

“we’ll be studying, don’t worry. we never fight when we’re studying,” jungwon shrugs, shooting a discreet glance in your direction, practically screaming help me.

“yeah see the thing is, you shouldn’t even be fighting-”

“yunjin, don’t.” sunoo takes her by the shoulder, dragging her back out the door. “keep our dorm in one piece, please. we’re off!” while yunjin still believes in peace between the two of you, sunoo’s learnt long ago that interfering with your rivalry only makes things worse. not that you don’t feel a little bad about it.

the door slams shut, leaving you and jungwon alone in the room. it’s an uncomfortable silence, the awkwardness of the interruption still lingering.

“y/n, i-”

you hold out your hand. “give me a moment, gosh.” burying your face in your hands, you groan. “that was probably the worst thing ever. we lied in their faces, they’re gonna kill us if they ever find out.”

you suppose it’s your despair that elicits a sound awfully like a snicker from him. some things never change. “did you see the looks on their faces? they’ll never see it coming.” you finally raise your head, watching as jungwon smirks at you with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. paired with that loose-fitting hoodie of his, and the sweatpants (grey, no less), you’re simultaneously insanely smitten and utterly appalled by said attraction. why’d he have to be so good-looking? he wasn’t this handsome when you were growing up. yang jungwon is going to be the death of you.

it really does take all your efforts not to just shove him onto the couch and claim his lips for yourself again. and then you nearly faint from the prospect of having that thought at all. hastily, you shove a wad of meat into the boiling pot on the table. “we-we should start eating. don’t want the food to turn bad.”

he shrugs, pulling up a chair opposite you. “don’t mind if i do.”

and if you pop open a couple beers afterward, no one has to know.

shit. shit.

days later, you’re at a study cafe with all your friends. you’ve spent the past hour on this topic, and it’s taking everything inside of you not to smash your laptop in half and bash your head into the debris. what the hell is this? you’re not supposed to be bad at this. a glance at jungwon tells you he’s not having nearly as much trouble as you are, and that’s your breaking point.

panic rises in your throat, your lungs, as your vision blurs. words on the screen start to blend, and you think to yourself, you’re a failure again. worthless no matter how hard you try, breaking apart even while trying to hold yourself together. you can feel every tear leave a searing path down your cheeks, nails clawing for skin to carve red lines into. your eyes burn with the buildup of tears, a telltale sign you’re about to lose your shit. in front of jungwon, no less. just great.

you stand up abruptly, the legs of your chair screeching as they drag across the floor. “bathroom,” you manage to make out, as you dash across the cafe full of people, praying no pne notices. you fling the bathroom door open, turning on the tap at full blast. you don’t realise it, but your fingers are gripping the edges of the sink with an intensity you didn’t think was possible.

your eyes flutter shut as you try to calm down, focusing on the flow of the water. it’s not working, but the white noise is more soothing than anything right now. that is, until you hear a clicking sound, followed by arms wrapping around you from behind. judging by the shallow breaths, and the mellow scent of baby lotion, it’s exactly who you think it is.

in your rush, you forgot to lock the door. wonderful.

you lean away from jungwon’s embrace, trying to untangle yourself from him, but he stubbornly holds you tighter. “go back, i’m fine.” you don’t even believe yourself, from the way your voice trembles in between gasps.

he hums, and with your back against his chest you can feel the little vibrations as his speaks. “you don’t say.” he doesn’t continue, and in the silence, your mind stays on the warmth of his body against yours. slowly, you let yourself relax into him. it’s funny, how he can be the problem and the cure at the same time.

you can feel yourself melting in his arms, your breathing evening out with every second that passes. your heartbeat’s finally slowed to a calmer thrumming, no longer pounding in your ears. suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of his soft sweater against your cheek, and the way a thin piece of fabric is the only thing between your skin and his.

“how do you do it?”

jungwon frowns. “do what?”

“hold up the world and make everything seem fine, when you know it’s not.”

he falls silent, resting his head in the crook of your neck (it’s becoming a habit of his). “well…it’s easy when it’s for someone else.”

“that so?” you muse, peering back up at him. “even for me?”

the way he averts your gaze is insanely cute. “don’t push it.”

but you know he hasn’t lied to you. since you were kids, jungwon’s never been the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve. he holds everything together, holds everyone together. even now, he’s keeping you from falling apart. but what about him? who’s watching him to keep him from losing it all? you know for sure he’s had his fair share of breakdowns, but your stomach churns at the thought that you’ve never witnessed it. not once. being yang jungwon is lonelier than it seems.

once you’re sufficiently calmed down, you untangle yourself from his embrace. “i’ll, um, head back first. you should wait a few minutes before you go back.”

“right.” glancing down at his feet, jungwon nods. “just…you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

you turn to leave, but a question burns all the way down your throat.

why? would you take it from my hands and bear it with me?

(and what if you wanted to bear his burdens too?)

true enough, your performance on the latest assignment was more than decent — the highest score in your class, in fact. and as always, jungwon’s not far off. your hard work did pay off. funnily enough, you don’t go to rub it in his face like you always used to do.

it seems you’ve changed.

these days, jungwon seems to linger in your head a lot more. and it’s not just the intimate gestures that stay, but the feeling of his arms around you just won’t disappear. every time you’re about to panic, the mere memory of his gentle touch only serves to ground you back to reality. he’s not even physically here, but you don’t need him to be there for him to be your lifeline. how did things even turn out like this? your greatest rival, also your greatest source of comfort.

today, your friends have made plans to head to an amusement park (read: disneyland. because yunjin’s a disney adult in the best sense of the word). you, jungwon, sunoo, yunjin and riki, along with his girlfriend. the dynamic’s great, really, with everyone carrying the mood well so nothing ever feels boring. you’re able to grab a few rides with them, and eventually the group splits for different attractions, and it’s just you, riki and jungwon, waiting for the others to get back from some quirky river ride. you three didn’t bring spare clothes, so you’ll have to sit this one out. parked under a shady tree, you don’t feel the heat nearly as much, but sweat’s starting to make your shirts cling to your backs.

thirty minutes pass, and there’s still no sign of them. riki’s phone pings. “oh, the ride’s delayed. they’re gonna queue for another forty minutes.”

“forty?”

riki shrugs. “it’s a popular ride.”

you rise to your feet. “okay, i’ll go get us some water. you guys stay put.”

fortunately for you, the shop’s got plenty of water bottles, although the marked-up prices do make your wallet cry a little. what you aren’t prepared for, however, is walking back and spotting riki and jungwon huddled under the tree, deep in conversation. quickly, you press your back up to the other side of the tree trunk, hiding in plain sight.

“…you want relationship advice from me?”

jungwon hums. “well, i can’t very well ask sunoo, not when he’s only just stopped partying away to handle his own breakup.”

“true. we need to find him some better coping mechanisms. though i think he’s back in contact with her on instagram. i swear i saw a notification on his phone the other day with her user and all. that webinar he’s going for next tuesday? think it’s her.”

“oh.” you can hear the wince in jungwon’s voice. “that’s a little…”

riki glares at him. “don't change the subject. shoot.”

he sighs, his lips twisting in concentration. it’s a habit he’s had for a long time, one that you’ve come to notice. “so there’s this girl.”

“uh-huh.”

“i can’t stop thinking about her.”

“uh-huh.”

“but i know she hates me-”

“shit, you like y/n?!” riki yells, slapping jungwon on the back before he can even finish. “of all the billions of people on the planet?”

“how’d you guess?”

“she’s the only one who hates you, buddy. no prizes for guessing who.”

jungwon groans, burying his face in his hands. “i don’t know anymore. she just can’t get out of my head. don’t tell the others, i’m begging you. i’ll never live it down.”

“okay…” riki trails off, and you can imagine how confused he is. “why her though? and why now?”

jungwon’s practically fumbling for an answer, running his hands through his hair (another nervous tic of his). “it’s just…i guess i get her, and she gets me? we understand each other’s problems really well. it’s like looking into a mirror.”

you nearly choke at his words. he gets you, that much is clear. but for him to feel like you know him inside out, that’s a completely different thing altogether. it’s always been a struggle for you to read people. coupled with the fact that jungwon’s the most emotionally intelligent and regulated guy you know, you’ve been worried you’re not giving him enough.

besides, he’s so much more than you’ll ever be. you, the mentally unstable top student, and jungwon, the other contender for your spot, but with something more: people skills. everyone likes him, everyone wants to be him. the battle’s lost before you can even fight it. he’s a good person, and you’re…nothing like that. people trust him, including you.

so why would he dare to leave his heart in your hands like that?

it’s not fair. he knows exactly what to do, and you know nothing. he’s dated other girls before, not many but enough to be more experienced than you. how would you know anything, other than to clumsily take his affection with a heap of salt? you’ve failed him.

oddly enough, riki seems to understand. “i think i catch your wind, but you’ll have to elaborate. what’s the dynamic with her right now?”

“i, uh.” jungwon flounders, his cheeks turning pink, no doubt at the memory of everything you’ve done with him. “th-that’s not…well.” he laughs nervously. “how much can i say before it’s too much info?”

as you watch him with his toothy grin, with those eyes that crinkle in the corners, you know one thing - you absolutely adore him. it’s sudden, but how could you not? he’s everything. much as you hated him, it takes little of your pride to admit he’s been your lifeline for a while now. but you wonder, why would he pick you? for the sole reason that you know him well? that isn’t enough, is it? you may have never understood romance, but you’re guessing this isn’t the usual kind of reason people fall for other people.

besides, there’s nothing special about you.

you end up waiting for the conversation to drift to small talk before joining them back. as always, jungwon’s quick to revert to his usual, teasing self. and despite it all, you find your gaze to be on him the whole time.

it’s dark out when you guys finally make your way back to the dorms. with the others off buying water and snacks for a late-night hangout, you’re left alone with jungwon to head back. he’d conjured up some lie about you leaving some study material in his dorm and needing to grab it before going back to your own, and they seemed to buy it. so here you are, walking along a concrete pavement with the boy you can’t seem to understand, with rain practically beating down your backs. the weather really hates you.

with your path being lit only by the orange glow of the overhead street lamps, and the air filled with nothing but the sound of pouring rain, there’s nothing much you can say. nothing really feels right to say right now, because how do you even begin to address anything in the past month?

jungwon’s grip on the umbrella is tight. you swear it’s leaning slightly towards you. in his other hand is a plastic bag of merch you got from the amusement park, full of junk like headbands and shirts.

wordlessly, you sneak your pinky into the palm of his hand, hooking your fingers together. there’s an odd sort of intimacy in the little gesture - a silent reassurance that concedes a lot more than you’re usually willing to. to your relief, jungwon doesn’t mention anything about it.

suddenly, his footsteps slow to a halt. he whips out a pair of sparklers from the bag you’d gotten from the amusement park, slipping one into your hands. “quickly, before they come back.” as he fumbles with the lighter, a familiar endearing look of concentration on his face makes you giggle a little. the lighter clicks a few times, and the sparklers come to life.

despite the pouring rain, the sparks of violet flash brightly, illuminating your view of each other. with his face glowing a pretty shade of purple, you can see the ridges in his face, from the dimples in his cheeks to the curve of his mouth. “and why exactly are we lighting fires in a downpour?”

“oh shut up, i’m trying to have a moment with you here.” the retort comes easily, a little too easy, seeing as he slaps his hand over his mouth almost immediately. “you heard nothing.”

“mhm.”

and then he’s wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walk, the faint crackling filling the silence as you continue on. you can sense jungwon’s gaze on you, so you pinch his arm. “something on your mind?”

he exhales softly, patting your shoulder. “if i say it’s you?”

“then you’re a cheesy bastard. what’s really going on?”

he laughs, but you know there’s something lying under the surface. there always is. (huh, maybe you do know him better.)

“it’s nothing, really. just thinking about…us, i guess.” he pauses. “well, mostly you, if i’m being honest. i don’t really know where to start.”

you shift closer to him under the umbrella, till your cheek is pressed against his arm. “i think i do. your journal?”

“ah.” he grimaces, his laughter a little less nervous. “that much i’m sure you’ve already guessed. i don’t think i ever hated you, y/n. not really. i guess i just got scared that there was someone who saw through me so well.”

“and…are you still scared?”

he shakes head firmly. “no. it’s a good thing, because, well. you feel safe. like a place i can go to and let my guard down. i imagine doing things with you i’d never do with anyone else.”

“not naughty things, i hope,” you joke, but the brilliant red that blooms so bright across his face you can see in the dark is extremely telling. “yang jungwon! get your mind out of the gutter!”

feigning a cough, he looks away, fighting for whatever dignity he’s got left. “my point is, i can’t go on as your rival. i…i need you.” he swallows, and in his eyes there’s a vulnerability you know is saved only for you. “i don’t know why, but knowing you’re the only one who understands me is all i’ll ever need. selfish as it is, i want to keep you here forever, so i don’t have to feel alone again.” he says it all with a conviction that’s so strong it almost scares you. he’s putting all his trust into you. does he not think it’s terrifying, to leave all his sorrows with a person like you?

“are you confessing to me?” you whisper breathlessly. you seriously hope he can hear you over the crashing rainfall. “because i’m not sure if i’m-”

“yes. i’m confessing to you, like right now.”

oh. oh.

but there’s an ache in your chest that swells as you try to meet his glassy eyes. “but if you know me so well, you’ll know that i’m not all that. i’m an emotional wreck who can’t live without her ego, and i’m just…me.” and you’re so much more, more than i’ll ever be.

at this, he stops dead in his tracks, not giving a damn about the fact that the rain’s only getting heavier. “i-okay. what do you think of when you think of me?”

“how is this relevant?”

“just answer the question.”

you lick your dry lips, scouring your brain for a reply that can tell him exactly what you want him to know. “it’s like you can see who i am, like you know exactly what to do to make everything okay again. we’ve been under the same pressure to be good our whole lives, and when you try to make me feel better i can tell you mean it. and it works, and i honestly don’t know how i could possibly live without it, now that i know what it feels like to be loved by you.” if you’d told your younger self that years into the future, you’d get to bare your soul to your greatest rival, she’d probably laugh in your face. but here you are, and it’s comforting to know that he’d never judge you for it.

finally, yang jungwon grins that radiant grin of his, the tip of his sparkler meeting yours. “isn’t that reason enough, then, to keep me here? let’s be selfish for once, you goody-two-shoes.” the soft gaze he has on you has your already-weak resolve crumbling away, and it’s as though a hole’s been filled in your heart. one you didn’t even know existed.

“we’ve been too good our whole lives, haven’t we?”

“all the more a reason to be a little more reckless.”

but you let the sparkler fall to the puddle-strewn pavement as you cup his face in your palms, pressing your forehead to his. “for you? any leap of faith would be worth it.”

and you kiss him, with the force of every unsaid word, every apology and confession of the past eighteen years. as much as you’ve done this before with him, every other time he’s kissed you pales in comparison, because for once you see why you wanted him so badly. why you wanted him to have a piece of your soul. maybe, just maybe, pieces of you are already a part of him, and him of you. fragments of each of your shared pasts had embedded themselves in your hearts long before you’d learnt that the sting was one of longing, and not jealousy alone.

his grip on the umbrella loosens, his palm wraps around your nape, a thumb caressing your jaw in a movement both reverent and yearning. with the umbrella now blown far, far away, you’re completely drenched, but you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore. as his other hand moves to hold your waist, you’re surprised at how naturally it comes. you tug him closer, and it’s both everything you’ve ever wanted, but at the same time never enough. breathing in the lingering scent of his lotion, you decide that this, this is home.

“...what we had was special, you know, and i can’t just let - am i seeing things? oh shit, you guys have to see this, oh my-” sunoo’s voice rings out in the night, and this time you just giggle against jungwon’s lips, not bothering to even look at your rightfully flabbergasted friends. this time, you want them to know.

riki sneers in disgust as he flings your stray umbrella towards you both. “i’d congratulate you, but i’ll be too busy puking in that corner right over there.”

“as if you and your girlfriend aren’t worse,” jungwon teases, catching the umbrella with one hand, the other still on your hip. gosh, that was attractive.

oh gosh, this guy’s your boyfriend. yang jungwon is your boyfriend.

by now, your friends have caught up with you, and you’ve got a feeling they’re about to circle you like starving vultures for a good story. but you can’t even bring yourself to mind as jungwon takes your hand into his, interlacing your fingers as he reopens the umbrella. “ready to go?”

anytime, if it’s with him.

a/n ➭ so yall…the promised context. this started off as a secret romance thing where ynwon were more touchy feely (in fact this is the fic that started the whole series lmao). but along the way i decided to use this fic as my projection + built-in jungwon character analysis. tbh the final result of this fic is…very different from what i had in mind at the start, but i’m okay with how it turned out in the end! as always, thanks for reading till the end! if u have the time do reblog/comment so ik what i can improve on haha have a good week! ALSO DID YALL SPOT THE SUNOO X YN CRUMBS

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loveshotzz · 1 year

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Midnight Love.

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: you knew you weren’t the one Steve was in love with but that didn’t stop you from answering his late night calls.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: soft smut with angsty plot. Unprotected sex (p in v, wrap it up!) public sex kinda (lover’s lake at like 1am)

A/N: Just a short little steve one shot, inspired by the song midnight love (Girl in Red). Steve’s a fuck boy in this, but let’s be real we’d fall for it.

You shouldn’t have answered when you checked your clock and it read half passed midnight, but you knew it was him on the line. It was always him at this time. You told yourself you were gonna say no, just like all the other nights. But when the words baby, I need you roll off his tongue sickly sweet like the butter scotch you’d always taste on his lips, you were out of bed just like all the rest.

In a swirl of bergamot and leather you sit in the passengers seat of Steve’s car, one hand on the wheel and the other wrapped around your thigh. Distant eyes trained on the road you knew his head was with her, despite the circles he was tracing on your skin.

With the windows cracked the last bit summer heat mixes with the beginnings of fall in a breeze that makes a mess of his hair. The desire to run your fingers through is stopped when he turns into your favorite spot. A break in the woods leads to the familiar dirt road, tires crunching the gravel underneath drowns out the heavy beats of your heart.

The lake is quiet under the clear beams of moonlight, sparkling against the rolls of the water. Standing by the heat of his car you watch him slowly peel off his clothes, revealing parts of him that weren’t really meant for your eyes. Not like you’d wished they were. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth when the muscles in his back flex. Bare feet hitting the water, goosebumps probably raise over his sun kissed skin. Turning around his gaze catches yours, lips turning up when he sees the way you look at him like you were still shy. Like you haven’t done this a hundred times.

“You coming or are you just gonna watch me swim by myself?” His voice rings out smooth over the quiet chirping of the critters hidden in the trees.

“It’s almost too cold to swim don’t you think Harrington?” A chilled breeze washes over sending a shiver up your spine, as if to prove your point. Almost like the universe was trying to stop you.

“That’s why I need you to come in here with me, body heat baby.” He throws the pet name out so casually, like he’s unaware of the effects the simple word has on you.

Rolling your eyes, he slowly sinks into the darkness of the lake stopping only when the top of the water hits his chin. The glint in his eyes outshining the stars in the big sky above him, he whistles for your attention and despite your better judgment you give it to him. Shedding your clothes leaving them in a pile next to his, you tip toe over the rocks to the shore. Making a show of checking the temperature, he splashes water at you, droplets hitting your skin makes goosebumps raise like his.

“Come on, you’re cold. Let me warm you up.” Wiggling his eye brows at you, the grin on his face makes your knees shake. Pushing himself forward he bobs closer to you til his feet touch the ground. Mesmerized by the way the moon hits the translucent water dripping off the top of his chest when he emerges from the depths.

A shimmering bronze dream with eyes that look like maybe this time you can make him fall in love with you.

Meeting him half way when the ripples hit the middle of your thighs, the thick patch of chest hair still makes your mouth dry. Crowding your space long fingers trail up your sides, with just inches between you, the heat radiating from his skin begs you to get closer.

Finally meeting his stare under the hood of your lashes it really wasn’t fair when he looked at you like that while he touched you like this.

One hand on your hip the other runs between the valley of your breasts leaving a wet trail along the path of his fingers tips. They trace the dip of your collar bone before sliding up the side of your neck gently tilting your head up towards him.

Tugging you closer the splash of the water breaks through the tension when your bodies stand flush together. The heaviness of his hard length laid pressed against your stomach. The warmth of his palm covers your cheek.

No matter how many times you’ve found yourself here, there’s still apart of you that thinks maybe it will be different this time, maybe he’ll change his mind.

He catches the sigh that leaves your mouth as the pad of his thumb traces the silk of your bottom lip. He’d barely touched you but here you were, already his.

“Let’s forget for a little bit yeah?” Eyes search yours for permission he didn’t need, he leans forward claiming your lips with the kind of fever you’d expect from someone who was trying to hide their broken heart.

Arms looped around his neck, his tongue chases yours when you open your mouth greedy for more. Fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of his neck, your legs wrap around him, chest to chest it feels like you’re breathing him in.

The hand on your neck slides down your spine, finger tips dancing over the curve of your ass till they hit your slick folds.

“Steve.” Gasping in his mouth when he pushes two in, stretching you out for him. Smiling against your lips he swallows your moans as he curves them to the side.

“Always so ready for me.” He groans, trailing kisses down your jaw nipping when he hits the curve of your neck.

Words left unsaid sit at the tip of your tongue, as if he didn’t know you were his.

Fingers leave you fluttering he pulls them out so both hands can get a grip on your thighs, lifting you up his cock slips from between you two, down to where you need him most.

Tugging is hair you selfishly want his eyes on you when he finally pushes inside. Hazel globes deep and endless it’s easy to pretend like this.

Soft walls wrap around him in a unified hum. Jaw slack, his eye brows furrow when you push him deeper with the balls of your feet against the small of his back.

Steve hits so deep that his pelvis rubs against your sensitive button in a way that has your nails trailing against his shoulders.

Arms crossed around your back, he holds you impossibly close. Forehead pressed against your neck the word ‘fuck’ fans across your skin.

It was you who was making him feel like this.

Head rolling back your eyes connect with the night sky at the same time he hits that special spot deep inside.

The feeling has you needing his lips, fever hot it’s all teeth and tongue when you collect his. Water splashing around you at the speed of his thrusts you can feel it all start to combust.

“Cum for me baby.” He whispers before he licks the inside of your mouth, his mushroom tip hitting you right where you like.

Fingers tugging at his hair, your legs tighten around him the friction becoming too much. Stars painting the sky behind your closed eyes, Steve was the one who controlled your tides. Following closely behind he says your name before he fills your insides, white hot like the beams reflecting off the shoreline, and in this light you swear he’s yours.

Foreheads pressed he only holds you for a few moments more, just long enough to steady the beating inside your chest. Loosening his arms your body sinks with out his hold, slipping out you already miss the feeling of being so full. When his eyes won’t meet yours, you don’t know what’s worse the dull throb between your thighs or the familiar one that’s settles on your heart every time.

“I should probably get you home.”

#Steve Harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #Steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #Steve harrington angst

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my-soupy-brain · 1 month

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Next Door Neighbor: Part 4

I thought I was done with this story, but I'm not. This is too fun. After this little romp, I think I'll just have fun, cute stories between reader x next door neighbor Ted.

relationship: Ted Lasso x reader (F)

warnings: ALL SMUT

description: The next morning after spending the night with Ted

---

You wake up with the sun beaming through the dark curtains of Ted’s bedroom. As you slowly blink, you move your body a bit, which triggers Ted immediately to move over and curl up behind you again.

His arm goes around your middle and he tugs you into him.

“Mmmm, come back, sugar.”

You hum as his arms wrap around you and he kisses your neck.

“Sleep good?” he asks with a breathy drawl, his lips still peppering your neck, his hand coasting up and down your side.

“Slept like a rock. But multiple orgasms will do that,” you answer with a big smile, turning over in his arms.

“Mmm…more where that came from…” he smiles, kissing your lips, neck, collarbone. His hair is soft and falls gently over his head.

You smile and tremble as his lips move lower and lower, his hands pushing up his tshirt you borrowed to sleep in. When his fingers tease between your legs…

“Ohhh,” he coos, coating his fingers, raising them to his lips to suck. “Good thing I’m a hungry man.”

You bite your lip and moan. You wanna yell, scream. How is this aw-shucks middle aged coach absolutely the sex god you never thought you’d meet?

AND HE IS A WONDERFUL MAN, TOO?! Am I dreaming? Are we dreaming?

He slowly pushes your legs apart and wraps his hands around your thighs, as his face edges toward your apex, his tongue dragging slow against your opening. Your back arches and he watches with a dark look in his eyes.

His lips return to your slick, sensual wetness and he sucks on your pussy like a man starved. When a finger slides in, you writhe and you really understand how Ted Lasso is a giver.

“Oh God, Ted!” you cry out, your breath staggered. He watches your chest rise and fall and feels so turned on he almost can’t stand it. His left hand strokes his firm cock, his hips rutting against himself as he moans against you. A low, husky sound…

“Oh…honey…m’yeah, that feel good?”

He smiles, his lips still working you. Your eyes are hooded as you watch him. His hair messy from your fingers, his lips curled up.

“Ya taste like sugar, sugar…”

You moan as your body writhes, pleasure rocketing through you.

“Ted, ohhh…I need your…”

Ted’s fingers sneak into you while his lips keep their rhythm and your body feels a flood of heat and as you’re coming. He climbs up over you, his free hand coasting your body as he replaces his fingers with his cock. He slides in as your body clenches, the wetness giving him plenty of time to settle before his hips move into you.

You cry out and arch your body and he smiles proudly at the way he does this to you. He loves being the one who does this to you.

“You’re…so g-goddamn beautiful,” he stutters, his lips against your neck, breath ragged and low moans leaving his lips. This praise makes you keen, wrapping yourself around him more as your fingernails drag down his back.

When your lips meet his, in a fiery, sensual kiss, you moan in your chest, pulling away to suck in a breath. As your body trembles, Ted’s hand holds your hip tighter, thick fingers grasping your flesh.

The coil of release turns taut in your belly, Ted’s left hand between your bodies, stroking your bundle of soaked nerves.

“Lemme see ya, sugar…lemme hear ya…” Ted coos, sending you blazing into an orgasm that has your body twisting in the sheets. “That’s my girl.”

“Oh, I’m gonna…oh fuck…coming…” you manage between moans, making Ted smile as he watches you tumble into climax.

His hands steady you at your hips, but watching your face flush and eyes go wide and glassy…well…

“I’m…oh, shit, I’m gonna come…” Ted mutters, his hips stuttering against you, cursing between breaths. Your lips find his, kissing him while he releases. And as he takes a breath, his body relaxes a little more, his length softening inside you.

But your gentle hands up and down his back coax him to relax more, leaning that broad, sexy bodyweight over you.

“Wow,” you let out a breath and smile. “Ted, you’re… I mean…”

“I gotta say, I like makin’ ya speechless,” he jokes. He leans up on his arms and looks down at you while your fingers coast up his chest and through his dark chest hair. When he moves his body you feel him slide out of you and you shiver.

He lays next to you and cuddles you again. For a few minutes you smile and whisper and giggle and just enjoy the warmth of the bed and each other.

Ted kisses your lips softly before rolling out of bed, sliding his boxer briefs back on, and his white undershirt, and heading into the kitchen to make coffee.

You admire everything about his body from where you lay. The expanse of his shoulders. His soft hair. His muscular thighs but round peek of love handles. His long arms and dexterous fingers.

When he returns you are still biting your lip, reliving last night, reliving this morning in your mind. He smiles down at you holding your coffees.

“What’s that look for?” he asks, sitting down on the bed, resting against the headboard. You join him and sip your coffee and smile with a blush.

“Just remembering…”

Ted grins and takes a sip, his hair is still soft and falls over his forehead. His neck has a little mark from where you left a love bite.

“Well…darlin’…hope it’s not outta line to ask to see you again,” he asks. Inside, his heart races.

You take another sip and run a hand through your wild, sexed hair.

“Oh, absolutely, coach. You’ll be seeing a whole lotta me I hope.” With that, you lean in to kiss his lips.

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso x you #ted lasso smut

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honeydjarin · 10 months

Text

KISS IT BETTER

REX X READER

Rex’s feelings for you have been steadily growing for a while now, but he believes they’re his own burden to bear. When he gets injured, he thinks you might feel the same. When you get injured, he knows for certain.

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: blood and injury

word count: 2,600

a/n: this wip has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I finally got around to finishing it. I’m excited to be writing again!

Rex’s affection is a slow, steady thing. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, not when he leads the rest of his life with such level headed strength, but it does. He doesn’t notice the way it settles into the cradle of his ribs, the way it blinks into existence. It falls into place like the stars after a sunset, small bursts of light piercing the dark a handful at a time until there is no question that the sky is full—near bursting.

The sun seems to set quicker each time Rex sees you, the stars in his heart brighter with every passing day. If it weren’t for his practiced composure and unwavering respect for your position on the Resolute, that affection just might spill out of him, tearing him apart at the seams, his body alone no longer enough to contain his feelings.

But his emotions are his own, and you haven’t asked, nor offered, to help bear them.

You’re a medic on the Resolute, one of the few faces onboard that doesn’t match all the others on the Star Destroyer. That distinction alone was enough to spark gossip among the men when you were first assigned to work alongside the 501st.

Rex didn’t think much of it at the time. Gossip rarely holds weight, and he’s never put any stock in it. A new medic, nat-born or clone, is simply something the 501st was in need of. He didn’t think much of the matter beyond the benefit of having additional hands in the medbay. Maybe he would have paid more attention to the gossip if he had met you before the talk died down. It wasn’t until later, after a particularly rough skirmish that left more men than he felt comfortable with on bed rest, that Rex finally met you.

You were bouncing around between beds, checking in with the men still on bed rest, when he first saw you. Easy smile, mellow mannered, kind—these are the things about you that stood out to Rex.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Captain,” you greeted as you stepped by him. Of course you already knew of him. His position on the Resolute made it near impossible to not be involved in at least some rumors, just as your status as a non clone made you stand out.

“Likewise,” he said, the word feeling oddly heavy on his tongue. He had no way of knowing at the time that the first seeds of attraction were already starting to take root. Admiration and attraction can feel a lot alike in their early stages. Maybe it was a mix of both that caused words to fail him.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” you asked, pausing what you were doing to give Rex your full attention, gaze boring into him with an unexpected weight—like a tractor beam pulling him into your eyes. The steady hold of your gaze was nearly too much to handle. Rex dragged his own eyes away from you then, choosing instead to take in the scene around him, needing a distraction. Most of the beds were full, but enough time had passed since the skirmish that all of the men still in the medbay were stable, and many almost ready to leave.

“I just wanted to check in on them,” Rex said, nodding at the beds behind you.

“Of course.” You smiled.

The interaction was brief. You had things to do, and Rex wasn’t in the medbay just to see you—that would come later. But, despite the brevity of the meeting, it was enough for him to get a sense of who you are, enough for you to wiggle your way into his heart—just a little.

Rex’s affection is a slow, steady thing. By the time he finally realizes just how much of him you really hold, it is too late to change course.

—♡—

The blood spills from his side slowly. Ever-slipping time allowed the wound to begin clotting, but it’s too big, too deep to heal fully on its own. The blood sticks to his blacks, the still wet stain difficult to see on the already dark colored cloth.

He was hit by a piece of shrapnel during the last battle. An exploding tank sent pieces of the vehicle and broken droids his way. For the most part, he managed to escape injury, but something managed to nick his side in one of the places his armor fails to cover. Only his now ruined blacks stood between the shrapnel and his skin.

It will hurt to pull the fraying fabric from torn flesh, but when the time comes, he will grit his teeth and bear it. Rex has been through worse, no doubt, and he surely will again in the future. It’s why he waited to seek out treatment. There are others who need it more, those who might not survive without immediate attention. He doesn’t want to be a hindrance when doing so could harm others.

Instead of seeking out a medic, he distracts himself. He focuses on what can be done, takes steps that will result in the closest thing to a positive outcome after a battle. He doesn’t expect a medic to seek him out, especially not you.

You walk over to him without hesitation, like you’re singularly focused on reaching him, and Rex wouldn’t be surprised if that was true. The scowl tugging at the corner of your lip and creasing your brow, an unfamiliar expression on your usually smiling face, is aimed directly at him. He has never seen you angry like this before. Even with the harsh look that will inevitably be accompanied by a scolding when you reach him, the sight of you sends his world spinning.

Maybe he lost more blood than he thought.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You speak as you approach.

“My job,” he responds. This whole conversation seems wrong. While your question was delivered with a tone that made the words sound more like a scolding, his own statement, which should have held an assurance fitting for a Captain, sounds unsure.

“Kix mentioned you might be injured,” you say. Rex’s hand raises to his side in reflex, cradling the air above his injury but not making contact with the laceration beneath. You hum knowingly, stepping closer to get a better look.

You swat Rex’s hand aside as you bend down, taking in the injury without actually touching the wound. It’s difficult to see the full extent of what happened with Rex’s blacks still in the way, but the still wet blood soaking into the fabric tells you plenty.

“I wish you had come to me,” you admonish, pulling out a medkit from your pack. The supplies are reduced from when the battle started—Rex tries not to linger on the implications of that reduction.

“I had things that needed to get done, just as I’m sure you did.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” You pause what you're doing, looking him in the eye while you talk, as if doing so can make your words sink in. There’s a pained look in your eyes as you speak, like the thought of him being injured makes you hurt with him. It's a look you hide well, but Rex still catches the way you seem to bite your tongue to keep from saying something more.

You turn your focus back to the injury, setting out to do what you can to ensure it heals as thoroughly and efficiently as possible. If you were petty, you just might tug a little harder than necessary while pulling the fabric of his ruined blacks from the wound. You might use more force than needed to eject the stim into his system, or press the bacta patch onto his skin a little firmer than the adhesive calls for. You would remind him of why it’s important to seek out medical treatment as soon as possible. Maybe next time he would come see you sooner.

Instead, you’re gentle with the gash.

You may be unhappy about the fact that Rex got injured, but you’re disinclined to make him hurt anymore than he already does. You can understand why he avoided seeking medical attention, that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it—not when, of all people, Rex is the one who is hurting.

“Please try to be careful,” you say as you finish. You stand up, looking him in the eye once more. Your next words slip out before you can stop them. It’s a quiet, almost confession. “I hate seeing you hurt.”

Before Rex can respond, you step away, off to hunt down others who tried their best to avoid medical attention. Rex is left to wonder if your words were said as a medic, or as something from the heart, something personal. His cheeks warm at the thought.

Is it wrong for him to hope for more?

—♡—

“KARK!” The expletive is followed by a series of quieter grumbles and moans. You pull your hand from the drawer to cradle near your chest, eyes burning with unshed tears as you attempt to take in the damage.

Blood bubbles up from your palm, welling for just a moment before spilling over. It drips down your wrist and onto the once sterile floor below.

“Who in Sith Hells keeps a vibroblade with the notepads?” You grumble.

“Surely not a medic.” You startle despite the familiarity of the voice, turning around to see who has entered the medbay. Rex is taking your hand in his own before you fully process who is standing beside you. His touch is gentle against the delicate skin, his calloused hand nearly as warm as the now throbbing wound on yours. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say. “Nothing a little bacta and a bandage can’t fix.”

He doesn’t seem to believe you, his frown deepening as you brush off the cut like it’s nothing. Despite the guilt that settles in your gut for being the cause of his displeasure, your cheeks warm at the thought of his concern.

“Can I help you? Will you let me?” He is already herding you towards one of the beds, guiding you to sit on the edge so that he can gather the necessary supplies. You sigh, not wanting to trouble him any more than you already have, but concede.

“Fine. But clean your hands,” you demand before telling him where the necessary supplies are kept.

Rex does as you say without a fuss.

“Are you sure you don’t need stitches?” he asks, brows furrowing as he takes in the wound. He doesn't shy away, used to seeing much worse on a regular basis. It makes your heart sink to think about how much he has seen—how much he has lost.

“Yes, fortunately. The bacta will be enough.”

Rex works silently, apologizing when you hiss at the touch of bacta to the wound but not breaking his concentration from the task at hand. He works with the diligence of a soldier. With his attention directed solely on your injured hand, you are given a chance to admire him.

It’s a habit that started the first time you met him and has only gotten worse with time. You had heard about the Captain of the 501st. His loyalty unwavering, his mind steady and well balanced while his General is so fond of taking risks. You didn’t expect the softened look in his brown eyes. Falling for him was easy.

“Hey Rex, did you need something from the medbay?” you ask, needing something to distract yourself from his steady hands, from the slow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, from his singular focus on you—even if it is just because you’re injured.

“Hmm?” He looks up for the first time since he started treating the wound. It’s fully bandaged now, and the pain has all but subsided thanks to the soothing cool of bacta. “Kix said you were in here.”

His eyes flick away from yours and he clears his throat. It’s not the first time he’s sought you out in the medbay for the simple reason of enjoying your company, but still the decision seems to leave him embarrassed.

He switches the topic before you can respond.

“You need to be careful. How can you patch me up if you don’t have any hands to work with?” Rex jokes, a small smile stretching across his lips, eyes gleaming.

“You know I’m always careful. Of the two of us, you’re the reckless one.”

You reach out to shove his shoulder, laughing as you do. There isn’t any strength behind it, it’s just a teasing gesture, but you reach out with your injured hand. The aching sting of a cut sets your nerves alight immediately, and you hiss as you pull the hand back to your chest. The bandage holds strong, no blood leaking through, but that doesn’t stop the pain.

Rex pulls the hand back to him, his grip feather light as he traces the edges of the bandage. His brow furrows in concern and it takes an effort not to reach out and smooth the evidence of his worry. You can’t help but think: It’s the perfect spot to place a kiss.

“Does it hurt a lot?” He asks, growing serious again.

“Just a little.” The thought of kissing Rex must still be stuck in your brain because, before you can stop the words from slipping out, you add, “Maybe you can kiss it better?”

Rex’s eyes go comically wide, lips parting but no words coming out. Your words surprised him, more than either of you thought possible. You go to pull away, to come up with some excuse about why he doesn’t have to. You try to think of a way to tell him that you didn’t mean it like that (you did), and that he can just forget about it. It was a joke (it wasn’t). The two of you could laugh it off. But Rex’s mind catches up with your request before you can brush it away.

He takes your hand, still cradled gently in his own, and presses his lips to a spot on your palm that wasn’t sliced open by the vibroblade. They linger there for just a moment before he pulls back, keeping your hand by his heart.

You haven’t offered to help bear the weight of Rex’s feelings for you, but your question is a request for him to see your own, and a hope that he might reciprocate. He can hardly believe it to be true.

He needs to be sure.

Rex brings a hand up to your cheek, his fingers barely brushing against the skin there, and it's your turn to be left in shock. Eyes wide, lips parted, a mirror of Rex just moments ago.

“Does it feel better?” he asks. He leans in closer, merely waiting for permission to kiss you properly.

“I don’t know. I think you should try it again.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but it’s all the answer he needs.

Rex’s hand finds a proper place against your cheek, and then he kisses you. His lips are soft against your own, and any worries either of you might have had slip away.

The kiss is short and sweet, merely testing the waters, but it’s enough to leave you in a daze. You’ve wanted to kiss him for a long time. You wonder if he has wanted it for just as long (you think, maybe, he has).

You hum, a smile growing wide across your lips, and say, “I’m definitely feeling better now.”

#rex x reader #rex x you #rex x y/n #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #rex x gn!reader #the clone wars fanfiction #tcw fanfiction

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dilfsfordinner · 2 years

Text

The morning sun started to stream through the windows of your shared bedroom, the golden beams highlighting your lover’s face perfectly. Nanami Kento was a man of many talents, but waking up early was not one of them.

Currently, you were lying on his chest, your chin resting just above his heart. Mouth slightly agape, chest rising and falling in a sleepy pattern, you admired him and his perfect face. He looked so peaceful, such a contrast to the irritated look that seemed to take over his face 24/7. Slowly, you started to trace the lines of the muscles on his chest, trailing your finger up his neck to his face. Soft, blonde locks had fallen over his eyes, his bedhead always a blessing to see.

Gently, you brushed them away from his face, taking note in the way he still hadn’t reacted. Your small hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs stroking his cheekbones, goosebumps littering his skin in your wake. He was so beautiful like this, the tension between his eyebrows smoothed out in relaxation. You leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose, continuing your ministrations up to his forehead and finally his lips.

You kissed him slowly, and when you felt a grin start to form on the lips opposite of your own, you pulled away. Nanami was looking at you with tired eyes, his eyelids drooping down, eyelashes just barely dusting the top of his cheekbones. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he rasped, the clutches of sleep trying to pull him back under.

“I’m sorry I woke you, I couldn’t resist,” you murmured, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck, his scent filling your senses. Strong arms came to wrap around your waist, his hands softly stroking your skin, bare from the previous night’s activities. “Maybe I should ravish you as a punishment for waking me, hmm?” Amusement filled his tone, a smile cracking over his face as he watched you rise onto your forearms.

“Maybe you should,” you simpered, lying your head on the top of your hands which were propped up by your elbows on his chest. A coy smile took over his features at that, and before you knew it, he was grabbing your waist and flipping the two of you over. A yelp left you from his quick movements, your faces now extremely close, noses almost touching.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? I was thinking something a little more along the lines of…” his voice drifted off, a look of faux contemplation washing over his features. Realization dawned on you as soon as you felt his fingertips start to trail up your sides. “No, no, no, no, Kento don’t you dare,” you tried desperately, but it was too late.

Laughter erupted out of you as his fingers tickled your sides, hands grabbing his forearms to try and push him away. You writhed underneath him, hips pushing up against his own as he trapped you underneath him. Cries for mercy left your mouth, shrieks of joy leaving your lips as your pleas fell on deaf ears. “N-Nami p-lease!” you gasped for air, head tipped back against the pillows as laughter filled the room. He couldn’t stop the happiness that flowed through him, your giggles like heaven to his ears.

To make matters worse, Nanami shoved his face into your chest and started blowing raspberries all over. Your neck, your belly, even your cheeks were fair game. He was smiling against your skin, playfully blowing as you laughed and laughed. He slowed his movements, his body enveloping yours as you both smiled, his forehead resting against your own. “I hate you,” you whispered teasingly, his eyes never once breaking away from your now flushed face. “I know you do,” he grinned, leaning down to capture your lips with his own.

He would never admit it, but maybe, just maybe, waking up early was worth it if it meant he got to spend it with you.

—————————————————————————

#nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader #kento nanami #kento nanami x y/n #nanamin #nanami kento headcanons #nanami headcanons

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nightcourtseer · 3 months

Text

Wrap Me in Your Skin and Bones Pt.2

Read on A03

It had been seven days. Seven entirely too blissful, exhausting, cherished days that they had tucked themselves away from the world to come together as she had always hoped they would.

On the seventh day, their family had deemed it acceptable to encroach upon their hideaway - even if it was just mind to mind. Elain was half asleep when Rhys had tried to reach Azriel, although she had been able to tell that her shadowsinger had not given him but a moment before shutting him out.

Her sister waited until the sun was barely peeking above the horizon before Elain felt the palm of a hand, gentle but firm, on the other side of her mind’s door. A warm thought brushing against the ivy guarding the small chamber of her mind where one could but visit.

Azriel slept on underneath her, their last bout having taken everything they had left. For a time, at least. Elain rested on his chest, hands folded beneath her as she watched him sleep. The dark circles underneath his eyes had begun to fade, although she planned to wait as long as she could before waking him, to try once more to get him to eat.

They had warned her that it was more difficult for males. That the sense was stronger to consume, to be consumed.

Elain couldn’t begin to fathom it, as her own need threatened to devour her. It was only her love, her concern for him, that kept her from sliding a hand down his chest to wake him, to satisfy that insatiable thing that been unleashed when the bridge had been unblocked between their souls.

She didn’t know how any of the others - Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta… how they could stand it. How they could stand in civilized company and not submit to that urge to claim, to protect, to hold.

Maybe her sister would have some answers.

Elain carefully began to trace Azriel’s cool skin beneath her, his chest still rising and falling steadily as she cracked open the entrance to her mind to let her sister in.

“Yes?”

“Elain,” she could almost hear the relief in Feyre’s sigh. “I’m sorry to- to interrupt. I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. That you both were.”

Elain smiled softly, looking at the dark hair tousled on Azriel’s forehead - lips opened softly, brow relaxed as he slept. As at peace as she had ever seen him. And she could feel her own self beaming from within, the golden smile on her face sure to reflect how cared for, how cherished she felt.

“We’re alright,” she confirmed, a small blush heating her face at the sure knowledge that their family knew what had kept them silent for seven days. And the way things were going, Elain wasn’t sure when they would be able to reappear.

At the thought of it - at the thought of leaving the townhouse and having to be among others again, working again… a darkness encroached on Elain’s heart, and she felt her lips turn down even as she willed the small hint of distress not to pull on the bond between her and the male beneath her.

“How do you stand it, Feyre?”

There was a pause on the other end, and Elain knew that Feyre understood what she was asking.

“It gets easier, with time. Although that pull, those instincts that you’re feeling… they won’t ever go away. It’s part of the bond, as I understand it.”

Elain shuddered. “I don’t want it to go away, I just don’t understand how.. How we’ll ever be able to be a part for long. If he gets sent away, I think about it already, and I just -”

Azriel stirred beneath her, as if he had heard the catch in her mind’s voice.

She resumed her gentle touches, sweeping caresses along the side of his face, his neck, his shoulders, willing him not to wake.

“I just can’t imagine being apart from him.”

The unspoken assertion was there. That Feyre herself knew the feeling of the ultimate separation that Elain didn’t even dare speak aloud in her mind.

For she knew that Death followed Azriel, and that one day, it could come to claim him. Could dare to take him from her.

The thought of it, of anyone touching him, made her see red. Mental claws grew and flexed as the sharp vines of her mind knitted closer, grew more barbed.

“Elain,” her sister spoke calmly, as if she was reassuring someone much younger than she. “I can’t say anything to… to tell you that there’s no possibility that won’t happen. But I will say, that you can’t live your life thinking that way. Or you’ll never live your lives at all.”

Elain willed herself to calm, to let Feyre’s words soothe her, as much as she didn’t want to hear them.

“I’ll try,” she responded quietly, even as she pressed closer to Azriel, relishing in the feeling of her skin on his, the steady beat of his heart. Tucked away from the world in the home that they had been able to find refuge in, alone, as they spent this time together.

As if Feyre had heard this thought too, she said, “I talked with Rhys, and we would like to gift you the townhouse.”

Elain traced a whirling tattoo on the left side of Azriel’s chest. She couldn’t help but pull her lip between her teeth as memories of the past week flashed - blissful, tangible memories, not the fleeting things of visions. That first night, the view of his face between her thighs as she balanced above him in the garden, her calloused hands scraping along the bark of a tree as she struggled to balance as he… then a tipped over chair, her on top of his chest as she kissed him like he was the source of air itself even as they laughed off their desperation for each other… the wall, next to the window overlooking the garden, sunlight bathing half of them in golden morning brightness, their other halves shadowed.

Elain was careful to shield these particular memories from her sister, hidden in the recesses of her mind, on the other side of her mind’s antechamber.

“I don’t think you would want it back now anyhow.”

A pause, on Feyre’s end. A flicker of shock and then-

Uncontrolled, vibrant, heaving laughter from the High Lady on the other side of their mental conversation.

Elain flushed, grinning and barely controlling her own shaking laughter as she tucked her face into Azriel’s shoulder, doing her best not to wake him.

A set of sharp, night-flecked talons approached, willing to be let into the conversation - as if Rhys had been sitting next to his mate and was curious as to what had her near doubled over beside him.

Before Elain could narrow the lock the antechamber that Feyre resided in with her, tattooed hands were shoving her mate out even as he protested.

This only made them laugh harder, as a faint sense of disgruntled protest sounded from the other side of their mental conversation.

Once they had caught their breaths, Feyre reassured her, “Take all the time you need, Elain. Both of you. Take as long as you need.”

“Thank you, Feyre, for everything.”

Elain let her eyes close, as she felt her sister gently pull from her mind closing the door to the antechamber behind her. There would be time to face the world again, with her hand in his. But that day was not today. There was no war on the horizon, no more death gods to face. They finally time on their side, and Elain did not intend to waste a minute of it.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acotar fanfiction #elain x azriel #pro elriel #pro elain #elriel fanfiction #elriel fic #azriel shadowsinger

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appocalipse · 1 year

Note

BEGGING for lipstick from the prompt list with Steve. I’ve been binging all of your blurbs and then read that prompt and died thinking about it.

you're so sweet, thank you. ♥ honestly i was hoping someone would pick this prompt cause it was my favorite | steve + fake dating ♥

[LIPSTICK; Brushing lipstick off their cheek after the other/someone kisses them. ]

—

You find Steve sitting on a sun lounger beside the pool, watching the water thoughtfully. Probably bored out of his mind, you think, feeling a little guilty.

He doesn't hear you approaching. The sun lounger is big enough for you to sit next to him, though there's only a tiny gap between your bare thigh and his.

"Sorry," you say, handing him one of the two glasses you brought with you and offering an apologetic smile.

Steve stares suspiciously at the red liquid, frowning at the small bright yellow umbrella decorating the glass. "For what?" he asks. His tone is soft, his expression even softer when his eyes meet yours.

"For dragging you to the world's most boring party."

"Oh, you should see my parents' parties," he beams, fiddling with the small umbrella absentmindedly. "Those were three times worse than this. And at least I have you here."

He lightly bumps your shoulder with his and you try to keep the smile on your face from looking too silly, too needy. You don't think you succeed. The solution is lowering your head and pretending to be interested in the drink in your hand — which, by the way, you don't even know what it's called, let alone what it's made of.

And Steve looks too pretty in the dim moonlight.

"And you didn't drag me here, I volunteered," he adds when you don't say anything, taking a careful sip of his own drink. "But what is this? Jesus," he frowns at the glass as if it has offended him deeply.

Then, Steve laughs.

As always, his laugh is contagious. A giggle escapes you in no time. "I have no idea. Some fancy drink May is making for everyone."

Steve braves another sip, then decidedly puts the glass down on the ground next to your legs…your legs, which he's now looking intently at. It's subtle but definitely there, a gaze that lingers a second too long before he's straightening up and clearing his throat, once again the picture of a great, respectful friend. It happened, you tell yourself. And yet, your mind desperately tries to convince you that you're reading too much into this, into him, into this relationship.

You take a big sip of your drink. It's far from being your favorite, but it's also not bad. A little sweet, a little strong. You're not sure whether you're hoping it boosts your courage or completely erases it along with all of your thoughts about the boy beside you. It doesn't seem to be working either way.

Coming to this high school reunion — a pathetic excuse of a party with your classmates from your old school in Indianapolis, more like — was probably not your best decision. Bringing Steve along as your fake boyfriend wasn't your brightest idea either, because even though he'd been pretty convincing all night and made everyone basically fall in love with him, now you can't stop thinking about what it would be like if he really was your boyfriend.

"So," Steve starts, sighing. You look up, hoping to catch a glimpse of a star, a distraction, but the sky is clear tonight. "That guy- Philip."

Steve doesn't look at you. He tries very hard to appear almost distracted, like he's just making small talk. You bite back a smile.

"Phil," you correct him.

"Phil," Steve repeats, as if the name leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "He looked really upset when you introduced me as your boyfriend, you know."

There's potential in the way this conversation is going, you think, although you also hate how this is the first thing that comes to your mind.

"He's with May," you inform.

"Why do I feel like there's a story there?"

You set your glass down carefully next to Steve's and take a deep breath. "There is. A very short one: we dated the year before I moved to Hawkins, tried long distance, and then he cheated on me with May and they started dating. The end."

Steve stares at you for a long moment before answering.

"Wow, what an idiot. I was going to say I'm sorry, but you can do so much better than him. Honestly."

You exhale a nervous laugh. "So much better that I had to ask a friend to pretend to be my boyfriend just so I wouldn't feel like such a loser."

"You are not a loser."

The look you give him seems to ask 'really?' Steve stares back at you as if you've just cursed him profusely, although you can see the offended expression is entirely false.

"You are not a loser," he repeats seriously, holding your gaze.

You can read the request implied in the sentence, and you see little option but to comply with it, smiling.

"Okay, I'm not a loser," you concede, feigning annoyance. You look down at your shoes, certain that this is not the time for self-pity but unable to stop. "I just can't make anyone love me."

"I love you," Steve says easily.

You use all your willpower not to blush, even though you're positive it's not even possible to contain such a thing. It's not the first time Steve has said those words and you know there's nothing romantic about them. And yet every time you hear those three words — which happened only a couple of times during the span of your friendship, (usually caused by emotional hugs on holidays) — you still feel an inexplicable tingling in the back of your neck, a shiver down your spine.

"I love you too," you say, and it's not the first time either. Getting the words out without letting the real extent of the feeling behind them show is still quite hard for you. "But I meant, you know… as more than friends."

Steve looks at you differently, or maybe it's just the faint moonlight tricking your eyes, but for a moment you think he's actually going to say something.

And then the moment passes and he leans forward, resting his palms on his knees in silence.

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

"Thank you."

Steve turns his face to look at you.

"What for?"

"For coming here with me. And for keeping up the loyal boyfriend facade even in front of a bunch of gorgeous girls drooling over you."

You chuckle in hopes of sounding more relaxed. All Steve does is smile.

"It wasn't hard, you now," he says, and you don't think you'd be able to wipe the smile from your face if you tried. "It was actually pretty easy. And you're way prettier than all of them."

Your smile grows into a giggle. "Steve-"

"And way funnier and kinder too. And nicer. You're really nice, you know that? And your perfume is-"

You put your hand over his mouth, laughing. "Fine, fine! Stop!" you chide, even though this is the last thing you want him to do.

You can see the smile in his eyes.

And that's it; it's the soft look on his face, his infuriating perfect hair, his sweet words...those are the things you blame when you lean forward and impulsively kiss him on the cheek, leaving a red mark on his skin almost perfectly the shape of your lips.

"Thank you," you say before pulling away, sounding surprisingly firm despite what you've just done.

You can't be imagining it. The expression of confusion on his face, half disbelieving and half dreamy, definitely a little satisfied. It can't be just you imagining it.

Did I cause this?

Your thumb touches the lipstick stain on Steve's cheek and you rub it gently, using your other hand to gently cup his chin. "Shit, I'm sorry, Steve," you whisper. "I got lipstick on your face."

He smiles. You know he's smiling because you're looking at his mouth right now.

And he's looking at yours.

Oh my God.

The pad of your thumb is red because of the lipstick and his cheek is still slightly colored by the traces of it, but now your attention has dissipated like a puff of smoke and you are unable to grasp it again.

Steve grabs your wrist, mumbles your name. With his free hand, he touches your lips with his fingertips and states, "Your lipstick is smudged."

"Is it?" you ask.

"It is," he assures. And kisses you.

Steve's lips are soft and he tastes like May's drink, sweet as he moves against you slowly, perhaps hesitant or perhaps wanting to enjoy every second, you think, wishing it was the last option. His arm curls around your waist and you sigh against his mouth, pulling away just for a brief moment. But his lips chase yours and capture them in another kiss and another and another until there's no option but to pull away for air.

He rests his forehead against yours and smiles between heavy breaths. "I lied," Steve whispers. "Your lipstick wasn't smudged before."

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