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bahablastplz · 3 days

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Make it hurt: Seungmin x Reader x Jeongin

Your best friend is a menace. A stupid, kinky menace that drags you along to a BDSM event with her when your curiosity gets the best of you. What will happen when a strangely attractive man asks you if you want to do your first scene with him and his friend? Content: smut smut smut smut smut Warnings: Talks of BDSM, use of ‘sir,’ traffic light system, dom/sub dynamics (dom Seungmin, dom Jeongin, sub reader), sensory deprivation, sensory play, fingering, choking, spanking (with a paddle), hair pulling, p in v sex, protected sex, edging, slight overstimulation, little bit of praise, little bit of degradation if you squint, lots of aftercare WC: 5900 (this is the longest smut I've ever written byeee)

Your friend is a menace. Well, that is a given. You’ve always known Lily, your best friend and roommate, to be somewhat unhinged. But now, given the circumstances you’re currently in… it was more apparent than usual.

She was involved in the BDSM community. It was something that she had started getting involved in with her boyfriend and so you were privy to hearing about some of her more… intimate experiences. She talked about what it was like being a submissive in a relationship, relinquishing any and all control to that of her dominant, coupled with sensory play, pain play, you name it.

When you expressed some interest in learning more about the BDSM community she was thrilled.

Let’s just say some of your past sexual experiences were… vanilla, for lack of a better term. While you’ve encouraged some of your previous partners to take charge or to be a little bit rougher in the bedroom, they would indulge but they never truly seemed into it. The one time a hookup agreed to choke you, however, you came harder than you ever had in your life.

When you told this to Lily, she told you that you just had to come to an event with her and her boyfriend. You weren’t too sure how you felt about this at first. Wouldn’t you just be third wheeling? She assured you that these BDSM events were a safespace for everybody of all experience levels to enjoy kink and that you would be fine to go off on your own if you needed to.

That’s how you ended up here. Just as you predicted, Lily and her boyfriend disappear the second you enter the venue, leaving you alone. Upon entry, you are given a pink wristband to show others that you’re new to the BDSM community and ‘open to learning more.’ You also pick out pins to display on your shirt, so you choose one that that says ‘submissive,’ and ‘pain slut.’ The latter you had grabbed just because you thought it was funny, but hey, if you’re here to learn more about kink then that’s what you’re going to do.

The event has a lot of different seminars to sit in on as well as vendors that sell a variety of sex toys or items for BDSM. You look at some of the silk ties and ropes they have for bondage and rope play, body-safe wax for temperature play, paddles and floggers for impact play, and even some lubes and sex toys that you have never seen before. You don’t buy anything, but you grab a lot of flyers and giveaway items that you put in a small bag to take home with you.

You also attend a seminar about kink for beginners and what green flags to look for in a dom/sub. Overall it is a very education-filled evening and you find yourself a little intimidated but also a little aroused. You know for sure by the end of the evening that this community is something that you want to continue to explore.

Sitting down at a table by yourself, you let out a loud sigh. You riffle through some of your pamphlets and check your phone to see if Lily texted you. "We're going to set up a scene in one of the play rooms!! Talk to you later! Xoxo.” She sent that text message 15 minutes ago, which means you would probably be stuck here a while longer. You let out a loud sigh again.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” You look up and your heart skips a beat when you see one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

He has shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair, shaggy but perfectly placed as it frames the front of his face. You notice his plump pink lips and sculpted face before you meet his dark eyes that give him an appearance not unlike that of a fox. Beautiful.

You realize that you haven’t responded to the man before you shake the thoughts out of your head and give him a smile.

“Yes! I mean, no no, it’s not taken. Feel free to sit!” You laugh at your own awkwardness and gesture to the chair to your left. Scanning over the man’s frame once again, you notice he’s wearing a denim coat over a nice white dress-shirt. He also has a pin on that says ‘dominant.’ Interesting.

“Are you okay?” He questions, tilting his head to the side inquisitively after sitting down.

“Huh?”

“Oh, I was just curious if you’re okay. I noticed that you were sitting alone and you were sighing, so I just wanted to make sure–”

“Oh! That’s so sweet of you! My friend kind of dragged me along with her when I told her that I was interested but um… yeah, she kind of ditched me as soon as we got here.” You run a hand through your hair and let out a breath that you had been holding. “I mean, I’m having a good time and all! But I just didn’t want my first time here to be alone, you know?”

“I’m sorry your friend ditched you,” he says sympathetically. “If it’s any consolation, it’s my first time here, too!” He holds up his wrist to show you a matching pink wristband. The action makes you smile.

“Are you here alone?” You question. “I’m just curious, you know, if this is something that a lot of beginners usually attend by themselves or if most people come here with a friend.”

“Oh no no,” he laughs. You think that his smile is cute and you can’t help it when you feel yourself warm up and get more comfortable just by his presence. “I’m here with my friend. He is a lot more experienced in being a dom, he’s been involved in the community for a few years and he told me he would show me around,” he explains.

“I see! Are you… Do you like it so far?” You try not to get shy, but to be fair this man is so unbelievably attractive.

“I do! It’s very educational. I can see myself trying to get more involved, hopefully. What about you? You’re not uncomfortable, are you? I know it must be a lot to be here by yourself since your friend left you here.” You think it’s so sweet that this guy is checking in on you so thoroughly.

“Oh, I’m fine!” You say with a big grin. “It’s been so cool so far! I definitely think I want to get more involved too. While it’s a little intimidating… it’s like… it makes me want to try it, you know? I definitely don’t want to go back to plain old vanilla sex after this, I think.” He laughs with you in understanding.

“My name’s Jeongin, by the way,” he says. “You are…”

“Y/N,” you provide.

He repeats your name, committing it to memory. “Listen, I know we’re both new at this, so don’t feel pressured at all… but would you be interested in setting up a scene with me and my friend? His name is Seungmin, he’ll be here in a few minutes if you’d like to meet him. But, he told me he would be there for my first scene, to walk me through it and make sure that everything goes right… And I don’t know if that would make you more comfortable for your first time to also have someone that is experienced… Shit, I don’t even know if you’re interested at all, and it doesn’t even have to happen right away or anything, and, um, he would be better at explaining it, but we could talk about boundaries and–”

“It’s okay, Jeongin,” you say. “I think I’m interested, actually.” He seems to perk up, as if surprised at your words. “Really?”

“Yeah! I think so. I’m a little nervous, admittedly. But… Do you think I could meet your friend first? Maybe if we talk it over a little more, I’ll feel better.”

“Of course!” He smiles, pulling out his phone. “He’ll be here in one minute.”

You don’t know why you’re surprised, but his friend Seungmin is also ridiculously attractive. He has long black hair, slightly shorter than Jeongin’s that falls around chin-length. He has bright eyes and a wide smile, almost innocently so, and he doesn’t strike you right away as someone that is an experienced dom that has been in the community for a while. He’s clear and concise when he speaks, though, setting clear boundaries with a politeness that makes you want to trust him implicitly.

The three of you talk for almost thirty minutes, surprisingly. Seungmin provides you and Jeongin with little kink surveys, which you think is almost endearing, but it helps you determine your sexual compatibility and any hard limits you have for the scene. He also talks you through protection, safewords, and the traffic light system, which you all determine will be your preferred method of communicating any hard or soft limits for the night.

You even spill the fact that you’ve been completely dissatisfied with previous partners, none of them pleasing you sexually and allowing you to completely let go the way you’ve been wanting. They nod along and you feel very comfortable sharing your experiences with them which you think is probably a green flag.

“Am I going to be having sex with the both of you?” You ask. You let out a nervous chuckle with the question, avoiding eye contact slightly but not trying to appear uncomfortable or shy about the topic.

“Do you want to?” Seungmin asks, turning the question back to you. “You need to let us know whatever you’re comfortable with, Y/N.”

“I think I want to.”

“Well, consent can be revoked at any point. If you decide you want to now but change your mind during the scene, that’s fine! You just need to communicate with us,” he explains. “Because this is your first scene, you should know that we don’t even have to have sex at all. Not all scenes have to involve sex. There’s plenty of other ways for everyone to have pleasure.” Something about the way he talks like he knows exactly what he’s talking about, so educated on the topic but also cautious to establish boundaries and make the whole process safe is so attractive to you. You hide a blush and look him in the eyes this time.

“I understand that we don’t have to. But… if you both are okay with it, I think I would like sex to be a part of the scene. Definitely with Jeongin,” you say. “But also with you, Seungmin, if you’re comfortable with that.”

“You’re doing a great job using your words!” He praises. This time you don’t conceal your blush. He takes note of that. “I think we’re pretty much set for now. Let us know if you have any questions!”

And with that, you set up a time and a place for the scene and exchange contact information before you all part ways. You find yourself exhilarated that this has just happened, but mostly you’re giddy. You’re going to do a scene. And with everything you talked about and communicated that you’re looking for, you have a feeling that it definitely won’t be a boring sexual experience.

When Lily and her boyfriend finally find you upstairs you’re more than ready to go home. She wants to grill you about everything that happened, but seeing as you’re a little annoyed that she left you to your own devices you decide not to tell her everything right away. You at least wait until you get home to let her know that you actually found a dominant that was interested in setting up a scene with you.

Before she can get the chance to lecture you about being safe, you explain to her about all of the boundaries and safe words that you set. You’re not sure how much detail you want to get into about it, but you at least promise to share your location with her during the scene so she can keep an eye on you for peace of mind.

The scene would take place in one week. Next Saturday.

In the meantime, you communicate somewhat frequently with Jeongin and Seungmin in a shared group chat. Seungmin shares articles for both you and Jeongin to read up on, and occasionally you would ask a few questions.

Saturday comes by faster than you know it.

Y/N: Should I wear anything special?

Seungmin: Innie says to wear something pink. And bring a change of clothes, something comfortable.

Seungmin: Don’t be late.

God, there are butterflies in your stomach. Is that the right terminology for this anxious yet giddy anticipatory feeling building up? You’re not sure, but when you knock on the door to Seungmin’s front door at 6:03 p.m., the feeling rises up again and again.

He leads you to his bedroom, where Jeongin is sitting on the bed. You sit in a gaming chair that accompanies a desk in the corner of his room, turning back and forth.

“Jeongin,” Seungmin says. “Do you remember the checklist?”

“Yeah,” he says to his friend. He turns to you. “How are you feeling today? Any hesitation on your end?”

“Nope,” you reply. “A little nervous, but excited.”

“Great. Remember our safe word?”

“Yeah! Traffic light system. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for ‘God, yes, keep going.’”

“Amazing. So, Seungmin and I are going to go through and show you some of what we had planned for today, just to get you familiar with some of our toys and what not. As we talked about last week, we’re looking to do some pain/impact play, and maybe some sensory play. We’re okay with edging and overstimulation. You were interested in potentially having protected sex with penetration, maybe with both of us. If you feel uncomfortable at any time or want to stop, please let us know. Does that sound good?” You nod your head and smile sweetly.

“Words,” Jeongin and Seungmin both say at the same time. You let out a light chuckle at the action.

“Yes. Yes, that sounds good, thank you,” you answer.

Jeongin shoots Seungmin a look. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nope, you covered it all! You’re off to a great start. I did want to point out that your friend was three minutes late, however, when I explicitly instructed her to be on time. Now, I want you to be in charge of this scene, since it’s your first time, but that would definitely warrant a punishment if it were me.” You blanch at his words. You didn’t think that being late by three minutes would cause an issue but the promise of a punishment has you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.

“Oh?” Jeongin says, shooting you a sinister grin. “Look at her rubbing her thighs together, she’s already wanting to be touched. I bet she did it on purpose, hmm? Did you come here late on purpose so you could get punished?” He stalks across the room to where you’re sat, tilting your head up to make eye contact with him. His gaze is dark yet firm, and you almost find it unbelievable that this is his first scene. Already you’re finding yourself willing to submit, to follow his every command and to please him.

“No,” you stutter. “Sorry, was an accident.” You don’t break eye contact but your face heats up rapidly.

“Do you remember what you said you wanted to call me tonight? You didn’t forget, right?”

“No… no, sir. Sorry,” you say. The both of you shudder at the term. You can tell it has the desired effect on Jeongin, who grips your chin tighter before letting you go, causing your head to fall down from lack of support.

“On the bed,” he instructs. “Take off your shirt and your pants and wait for Seungmin and I to get our materials ready. If you’re wearing a bra and underwear, keep them on.”

You nod your head at him before standing up then remember to use your words. “Yes, sir.”

“Color?” He asks. His face softens for a second and you let out a shaky breath.

“Green.”

Seungmin reaches to the top of his dresser and pulls out a long box. He walks you through various items, showing you paddles and floggers, restraints, and vibrators and dildos and other various sex toys. It’s reminiscent of the BDSM event you went to the other day, you think, as he explains each item and its purpose. Eventually he pulls out a red silk blindfold and instructs Jeongin to put it on you. You feel your body start to buzz in anticipation, already excited for what is to come as his long, delicate fingers wrap the blindfold around your head.

“Cross your hands and put them above your head. Keep them there or I’ll tie them.”

You let out a breathy sigh. “Yes sir,” you say, and it’s barely a whisper.

“Jeongin, I’m going to let you take the lead here. Let me know if you have any questions,” Seungmin says. It feels like you are waiting forever, and you know your breathing speeds up when you hear someone rustling through the box. When the bed dips next to you you find yourself pressing your thighs together to get some pressure and relieve some of the tension. The feeling of Jeongin’s hands on your thigh startles you, and he kneads the flesh gently, urging you to spread your legs for him. You do so immediately.

Something soft prickles at your skin and your breath hitches. What you can only assume is a feather starts at your chest, barely touching your skin but drawing light lines. You feel hot already from the small actions, breathing when the feather draws circles on your neck. Even more so, you have to stop yourself from pressing your thighs back together when he barely touches your nipples over the fabric of your bralette.

“Oh,” you say. “That feels good.”

“Yeah?” Jeongin breathes, the ghost of a smirk evident in his voice. He sounds almost as wrecked as you do and that makes you smile.

You aren’t expecting it when he grazes your clit. You think it’s with his finger, as you can still feel the feather circling your nipple, but the action makes you whimper.

“I’m going to finger this pretty pussy,” he says. “What’s your color?”

“Green,” you answer. “So green.” His fingers slip into the waistband of your panties, lingering for a second and teasing you until you lift your hips, allowing him to remove the fabric from your body.

One finger dips shallowly into your entrance, gathering just a little bit of your wetness.

“You’re soaked,” he comments. “And I’ve barely touched you.” You nod your head at him in agreement, because you know it’s true. You’re unsure if you’ve ever been this aroused in your life.

Using your arousal coating his finger, he works small circles outside of your clit, occasionally grazing it. Each time he does your breath catches in your throat, and if you could see him you would know he has a shit-eating grin on his face, working you up so easily from teasing you.

You barely register when another body dips into the bed next to you, though Seungmin helps raise your body into a sitting position. He grabs your arms and guides them behind your back, leaning you up against him.

“I’m gonna take this off,” he whispers, fingers sliding underneath your bralette. “You did such a good job wearing pink for us, just like we asked. You’ll just do anything we tell you, won’t you? You’ll be a good girl for us and listen to what we say?” He lifts the bralette over your head, discarding it.

You feel his breath on your neck, warm. You nod and tilt your head back, leaning yourself completely into the man.

A hand wraps expertly around your exposed throat. You feel it, finger by finger curling around and pressing into your skin. It’s at this moment that Jeongin decides to thrust a finger into you, hitting deep inside. You let out a cry at both actions, sounding utterly debauched.

“This will be your last reminder to answer us when spoken to,” Seungmin says, fingers wrapping tighter around your throat. “Do you understand?”

“Yes… fuck, yes sir.”

His hand remains unmoving, keeping you in place as Jeongin stimulates you. You notice that he’s not even thrusting his finger, but rhythmically curling it inside you. You try to rock your hips into him to get more stimulation but you're kept in place by the man behind you.

“M close,” you warn. A series of whimpers and moans leave your mouth, sounds that you’re sure your body has never made before. You know you’re babbling at this point, sounding something like, “Close, so close, oh my God, please, please, I’m going to, please–”

And when a hand reaches and pinches a nipple, hard, you cum. Jeongin’s pace never changes as he helps you ride it through, and you think you’ve never had an orgasm last this long. It feels like a solid minute passes as you cry and spasm in their hold, legs shaking but remaining open. As you start to come down, you feel a hand in your hair, soothing you.

You let out a heavy breath as Jeongin finally removes his finger, slumping forward. At the same time the blindfold is removed from your head and you’re exposed to the brightness of the room again, blinking as your vision refocuses. You’re just in time to see Jeongin stick his finger into his mouth, moaning as he licks your release from his appendage.

“Color?” Seungmin asks from behind you.

“Green,” you answer, still trying to catch your breath. “That was intense. I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” you admit.

“You did so good,” Jeongin praises. “We’re going to keep going, okay? We gotta give you your punishment for being late.”

“Yes, sir.”

The next thing you see him pull out is a paddle, long and wooden with a rounded end. It looks smooth to the touch but also expensive, as if he invested a good amount of money to pick out one that suited his needs. Not that you would be able to tell the difference between this one and any other paddle, since it was your first time getting spanked in any sense of the manner.

“Bend over for me, ass in the air, okay?”

You do as you're told, burying your face in the sheets as you stick your ass up in the air. Seungmin still sits on the bed, watching.

“Gonna do ten hits, okay baby?” The pet name makes your head spin.

“Okay, sir,” you answer, remembering to use your words.

“Want you to count them for me.” And with that, he hits your ass with an experimental tap of the paddle, just a little force behind it. It stings just a bit but doesn’t necessarily hurt.

“One,” you say.

“You can do it a little harder,” Seungmin encourages.

On the same cheek follows a harder hit, one that most definitely will be red. It’s loud enough to make a distinct clapping sound echo through the room.

“Two.”

“That was better, but you can still do it harder. Don’t be afraid to put some force into it, she can tell you if it’s too much.”

Now to your other cheek comes the hardest hit yet. This one is enough for your breath to hitch in your throat, your voice shaking as you say, “Three.”

“Can I show you?” Seungmin asks, standing. Jeongin nods his head behind you and hands off the paddle to Seungmin, standing to the side. You tilt your head to the side, trying to look and see if you can anticipate the blow, but you’re not fast enough.

Seungmin reels his hand back. This time you can hear the whiff of the paddle in the air a second before it comes, and this hit causes you to cry out. You lurch forward, running away from it slightly. “Like this,” he explains. “She wants it to hurt. If you look close enough, you can see her pretty little cunt clenching. It’s going to be red, and it might bruise a little bit, but she can take it.”

Seungmin delivers a second hit just as hard as the first, and this time you moan. He’s right–you clench around nothing at the action. You didn’t realize just how much the action would turn you on. His hand comes down to soothe where he hit you, the cold from his palm soothing the skin.

“Remember to use your words baby,” he chides. “Are you supposed to be counting?”

“Yes, sir,” you stutter. “Four and five.”

“Normally, I would start over if they forget to count,” Seungmin explains to Jeongin. “But since it’s both of your first times, we can go easy on her today.” He passes the paddle back to Jeongin and stands back, arms crossed and observing.

When Jeongin delivers the next hit it’s with much more precision and force than previously. You let out a much louder moan this time.

“Six,” you breathe.

“You should see her face,” Seungmin says. “She looks pretty fucked out.”

“God, that’s so hot,” Jeongin says softly. You can feel him grab your ass and knead it in your hand and you wince, sensitive from the contact of the paddle against your skin. “You’re soaking, baby, I can see your pretty pussy glistening. So fucking dirty for us. Just a few more, okay?”

“Mhmm, okay sir.” You take the rest of your punishment well and you can tell that you’re red and sore without even looking. You start to slump forward before you feel Jeongin’s hands on your hips, grabbing you to keep you in place.

He slides a finger up and down your entrance, gathering your slick. You’re so wet you can hear it and the sound is filthy on its own. But at the little bit of contact where you’re already pulsing in need, you let out a needy sound.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says. “What’s your color?”

You let out a strangled sound before answering. “M Green.”

You hear him open the condom and you crane your head, trying to get a good look at his length. His cock is long but skinny, red and leaking already from arousal. With one hand bruising your hip he guides himself to you and you can feel him at your entrance, his tip prodding at your hole. Your breath catches in your throat and in response he rubs his cock up and down, teasing your clit.

“Fuckkk, fuck please,” you say, rocking your hips back to try to push him inside of you. When he catches at your entrance you let out a whine, only increasing in volume when he pushes into you at an agonizingly slow pace. He bottoms out and stills, and for a second the only thing you can hear in the room is your breathing. With that same strong grip on his hips he pulls out, leaving just the tip in before he slams back into you. You lurch forward at the contact, not expecting him to be so forceful. He repeats the action, setting a brutal and relentless pace. All you can think is yes, yes, yes, this is exactly what I wanted.

And so when a hand comes up and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulls you back and yanks it hard, you let out a loud sound that you know can only be described as pornographic. He uses his grip to give himself momentum, pulling you on and off of his cock and digging his nails into your hips. You wonder if you’ll have red and purple crescent-shaped indents in your skin tomorrow, and you hope the answer is yes.

Each thrust is hard enough that you let out an “ah, ah, ah,” sound. You no longer worry about sounding dumb, succumbing to the blinding pressure instead.

Steadily, he works you up to your high. You can feel yourself getting close and faster than you ever have before. You’re a babbling incoherent mess once again, trying to warn them of your approaching release. “Close, close, I’m gonna, fuck, please–”

“Edge her on your cock,” Seungmin says, interrupting you. He comes to sit on the bed, face to face with your messy appearance.

Before you can beg or plead any more, Jeongin stills inside you. Your orgasm fizzles and dissipates and you let out a strangled cry in protest. You try to rock back into him, but to no avail. Instead his hand grips tighter in your hair, pulling you up and guiding your face to Seungmin even closer. You try to look away.

Seungmin tilts your head to meet his eyes, thumbing away a tear that you hadn’t realized escaped. “You wanted to see what it’s like to be a sub, let somebody else take over? You wanted to see what it’s like to lose control? This is it, baby.” You whine for a second and he shushes you, pushing two fingers past your lips and into your mouth.

“Keep going,” Seungmin says, still looking at you. You can feel Jeongin start to rock back into you, slower now but you can still feel him pressing deep inside you. It doesn’t take long for him to work you up again, your orgasm approaching much faster than the last. You moan around Seungmin’s fingers, trying to let him know.

“You gonna cum for Innie?” Blinking up at him, you nod with your vision hazy from tears. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and you groan, catching your breath. “Look at me while you cum on his cock.”

And you do. Clenching around him tight, Jeongin works you right through your orgasm. Seungmin’s gaze never leaves yours, though through your immense pleasure you watch his eyes darken. It doesn’t take long before Jeongin finds his own release, spilling into the condom.

When he pulls out and releases his grip from your hair you surge forward, wrapping your arms around Seungmin.

“You’re doing so good,” he coos, a hand coming to graze up and down your spine that leaves shivers on your skin. “What’s your color?”

“G-green.”

“You want to keep going? Think you can take me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re doing so good, so good baby.” He comes undone from your embrace, a hand coming up to soothe your aching scalp for a second. He positions himself behind you, contemplating before flipping you over to face him. You watch your own chest rise and fall from your heavy breathing and you will it to slow, watching the blank expression on his face. He reaches behind his neck to pull his shirt off, revealing his slightly toned figure.

He pushes his jeans down his legs and frees his cock which looks painfully hard. He’s not as long as Jeongin but he’s thicker, and you don’t even have time to think about how he’s going to feel before he’s sliding the condom on and pushing in, slightly stretching you out in the process.

“Shit, sensitive,” you warn.

“You can take it,” he says. “If you need to use your color system you can.” You nod at him in confirmation, wincing from the sensitivity as he starts fucking into you. You can’t help how hard you’re squeezing around him already. When Jeongin settles behind you, cradling your head in his lap, you can’t help but look up at him with wide eyes. Seungmin sets a steady pace, pounding into you deep but not as hard as Jeongin had. After a few consistent thrusts he’s lifting your legs up, pushing them towards your chest.

“Keep these here,” he tells you. With shaky hands you hold yourself in place, presenting yourself for him. This new angle allows him to reach impossibly deeper and you can feel the wet slap of his hips against the back of your thighs with every thrust. “Fuck, so good for us,” he grunts. “Such a perfect little slut for us, yeah? God, Jeongin, touch her clit, I’m already fucking close.”

Jeongin does as instructed, reaching down to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves with expertly skilled hands. His other hand reaches to thumb at your nipple, causing you to close your eyes and tilt your head back.

Your thighs are trembling and before you can even say anything your orgasm is ripped out of you, blinding you with how suddenly it came on.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hear as Seungmin snaps his hips into two more times before you feel him twitch, filling up the inside of the condom.

You finally catch your breath as he stills, pulling out of you. He stands up to discard the condom and you almost don’t catch the whine that leaves your mouth.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m right here. Neither of us are going anywhere,” Jeongin says, his words soothing the discomfort that had started to bubble in your chest. You’ve never felt so clingy before after sex but you feel at ease when Jeongin wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you further into his lap.

When Seungmin returns he slides into a pair of sweats and joins you on the bed. They both dote on you for several minutes, comforting you and soothing the areas of your skin that had received more harsh treatment.

Seungmin finally speaks, “That was intense, but you did so good for your first time. Do you feel okay? Is there anything that you didn’t like?”

You shake your head at him. “That was like, everything I’d ever dreamed of, honestly.” They both let out a soft chuckle at that.

“I liked it too,” Jeongin said. “You looked so… God I loved making you look like that. That was a lot of fun.” You had almost forgotten that it was his first scene, too. You weren’t sure what you were expecting going into everything but you were more than happy with the outcome, moreso with the amount of open communication that they had had with you. You smile happily and nuzzle your head against the bed, almost dozing off.

“Hey hey, I’m gonna run you a shower, okay?”

“Don’t want to leave you,” you mumble.

“Innie can join you in the shower and then we can take a small nap if you’d like, yeah? I have to change my sheets and you need to get cleaned up.” You hear the shower running in the other room and barely register it when Jeongin scoops you up and brings you to the shower. He holds you steady as you rock back and forth under the warm stream of water, even going as far as scrubbing your skin and toweling you dry.

When you get under the covers you hum as you feel a warm pair of arms wrap around your frame, pulling you close. Another body lays to your other side, running a hand through your hair.

“I want to do this again,” you say, your brain still in a deep-fried haze. You smile at the sound of laughter.

“Sure, baby. We can talk about it when we wake up.” *** Part 3/4 of the threesome series!! Ahhh this one took me forever to write but I hope y'all enjoy!! (TBH I have absolutely no experience with this kind of thing IRL but I tried my best and I did some research lol) Masterlist Recs Taglist: @lolareadsimagines @elizalabs3/ let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series

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ginnsbaker · 2 days

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (9/?)

Part Summary: You get more than you bargained for on Halloween

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 7.300+ | Warnings: Light angst, R and Leigh being obtuse | Author's Note: Longest chapter so far (and about 90% of it is just Leigh and R)! I have officially written another novel length fic with this update. From a two-shot to this? Wouldn't be possible without everyone's support. Thank you, everyone. I have a little treat for you at the end.

Despite Leigh's promise to bring Logan in for his vaccinations, she missed the appointment again for the second time. Understanding that life gets hectic, you decide that rather than seeing Logan miss another round of critical vaccinations, you'll take matters into your own hands and arrange a home visit at the Shaw’s.

On the day of the visit, you discover that Logan has gained 2.5 pounds in just two weeks. The drastic weight gain might indicate that he’s not a purebred Shih Tzu as you originally thought when you got him, or Leigh has been feeding him more than the recommended serving size. You can feel Logan’s solid back as you hold him in place while you administer the vaccine on his scruff. Leigh appears nervous, and if you weren’t determined to scold her after completing Logan’s immunizations, you might have found it adorable.

“Just a quick pinch, buddy,” you murmur soothingly to the anxious pup. Logan yelps as the needle pierces his skin, but within two seconds, it’s over. You rub his neck to distract him from the sting of the medicine, then return to your insulated bag to dispose of the syringe. Leigh watches closely as you finish with Logan, a slight frown creasing her forehead. You notice she's dressed in what you figure is her nightwear—a thin olive camisole and matching capri pants. It seems too dressed down for receiving a guest.

“Why are these vaccines so important, anyway?” she asks lightly, but you don’t miss her apprehension behind it. “I mean, he'll mostly be indoors…”

The frustration from her missing two appointments sneaks into your voice as you say, “Vaccines can mean the difference between life and death for puppies. Take the parvovirus—it's lethal and spreads quickly.”

Leigh nods, taking in the weight of your words. You notice her swallow, perhaps realizing the graveness of her oversight. “I didn't realize it was that serious,” she murmurs.

You catch yourself, realizing you might be coming across as harsher than necessary. “It's alright, Leigh. That's exactly why I came here,” you say mildly. You've dealt with many uneducated dog owners before, and Leigh is no different. You know you need to be patient with her, just as you have been with others, and you remind yourself not to let your personal feelings interfere with your professional opinions.

Logan wiggles happily at your feet, seemingly forgiving you for the shot already. “And another thing,” you add, glancing down at Logan’s round belly, “he’s put on quite a bit of weight. We need to watch his diet. Too much food isn’t good for him either.”

Leigh looks slightly embarrassed. “I guess I've been spoiling him with extra treats,” she admits. “I'll be more careful with that.”

“It’s okay. I know how hard it is to say ‘no’ to that face,” you say, smiling at Logan while you rub his chin. “Just keep to the recommended portions, and he’ll be in good shape.”

As you gather your things to leave, you remember Logan's vaccine card. After filling out the final details, you head towards the kitchen where Leigh has silently drifted off. She's busying herself with breakfast on the stove when you approach.

“Here's Logan's vaccine card,” you say, handing it to her. “He needs another dose in two weeks, so don't forget to schedule that in.”

“Thank you,” Leigh says, accepting the card with a nod. “I won't forget this time.”

The aroma of coffee wafts through the room, tickling your nose.

“I've just made some coffee. Would you like to stay for breakfast?” Leigh asks.

You hesitate, considering the offer, but you’re inclined to refuse, still irked by her missing the previous appointments. “I’m good, thanks,” you say, a bit too briskly. Leigh's face falls slightly, a look of disappointment flashing across her eyes before she gives you a small, resigned smile and turns back to the stove.

You start to leave but something stops you—the frustration from Leigh’s no-shows running over.

“Leigh, can I ask why you didn’t make it to the clinic? And not even a text,” you find yourself saying as you spin on your heels to face her. “It’s not just unprofessional—it hurts more coming from a friend.”

“If you have a problem with me, it’s perfectly okay to transfer Logan to another clinic as long as you’ll follow through with his appointments,” you suggest, noting her standing there, mouth agape, her vivid green eyes sharply focused. Getting that off your chest didn't bring the relief you expected. Instead, you're left with a sinking feeling of regret. Looking back on your words, you realize how petty they must have sounded.

Leigh on the other hand, is momentarily stunned by your outburst, her eyes wide as she absorbs your words. Then, something shifts in her expression, a flicker of intrigue crossing her features before she clears her throat and apologizes.

“I'm really sorry,” she says sincerely, turning off the stove and setting down her spatula. “I didn't handle things well, and you were right to call me out on it.” Leigh takes a careful step closer, causing you to instinctively step back until your lower back meets the edge of the dining table. You weren't expecting Leigh to be so understanding, leaving you unsure of how to react. Should you apologize for getting upset?

Fortunately, Leigh doesn't leave you to dwell on your thoughts for long. She continues, “Why don't you stay for breakfast? I can whip up something nice, and we can catch up like we used to. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Feeling like an absolute fool and still grappling with the aftertaste of your flare-up, you find yourself in a quandary. Rejecting her offer would just drag out this uncomfortable moment even longer, which is the last thing you want. Besides, your stomach is growling—you haven’t eaten anything since you got here, and the smell of brewing coffee is too good to ignore.

“Alright,” you relent, glancing down at your feet. “That sounds good.”

Leigh looks relieved. “Perfect, just give me a minute,” she says, clapping her hands together as she turns back to her cooking.

You linger awkwardly, still standing. “Need a hand with anything?” you ask.

“Just sit there, be all pretty, and relax.”

That little compliment makes your cheeks burn even hotter. If you weren’t so distracted by your hunger and embarrassment, you'd swear it’s almost as if she’s flirting with you.

Wait.

Is she?

Then, as if the universe can hear you thinking, Leigh’s phone buzzes loudly on the kitchen counter. She snatches it up, and even though you can’t see her face, you can tell she’s happy he called as she chirps, “Hey, Danny.”

Right. Danny Greer. That name shatters your brief daydream. Suzie was right—you're too close, and it's clouding your judgment. Leigh laughs into the phone, and you look away just in time for her to turn slightly and steal a glance at you.

Alright, you think, that's it. After this breakfast, it's time to really put some space between you and Leigh. You need to clear your head and let her have her space too. It's the best move, for the sake of your friendship and your sanity.

As Leigh busies herself in the kitchen, you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through your phone, not really focusing on anything. The sound of her laughter while she talks to Danny floats over to you, making you regret agreeing to stay for breakfast and blame your inability to say no to her.

She ends the call with a lingering smile and soon approaches with two plates in hand. Each has a stack of pancakes and two sunny-side-up eggs with the edges just crisped up how you like them. The fact that Leigh remembered leaves you speechless. It’s a small detail, but it makes you guilty for brooding and feeling all jealous.

“I hope you still like your eggs this way,” Leigh says as she sets the table.

“Thank you,” you say warmly as Leigh pours coffee for both of you. Recalling her preference, you offer to add two sugars to her cup, and she rewards you with a small, appreciative smile. She then grabs the syrup from the fridge, along with two sets of utensils, and places them on the table.

You take a bite of the fluffy pancakes, perfectly cooked and deliciously light. “These are amazing, Leigh,” you say enthusiastically.

Leigh beams, standing a bit taller with pride instead of dismissing the praise. “I'm glad you think so! I've been working on perfecting the recipe.”

“Seriously, Leigh, you could sell these.”

She laughs. “Keep the compliments coming and I might just make you breakfast more often.”

You almost choke at her words. You really should take a little break from Leigh until you can get this crush under control. Even simple remarks are starting to feel like a tightrope walk.

Leigh tilts her head slightly, a coy look crossing her face. “So…” she drawls, leaving the word hanging as she waits for you to look up from your plate.

You stop chewing once you sense her heavy gaze on you. “Hmm?”

Leaning in slightly, she lowers her voice as though about to share a secret. “This Sara... is she a friend of yours? Someone new around here?”

The piece of pancake suddenly feels like a mouthful of sawdust as you process her question. You grab your coffee and take a quick gulp to help wash it down. “I, uh, met her on a dating app, actually,” you say.

Leigh's eyebrow arches. “Oh?”

There’s a short, tense period where you repeatedly stab your pancake and tap your foot rapidly against the leg of the stool you’re sitting on, while Leigh twirls her hair around her finger, lost in thought.

“She’s gorgeous,” Leigh finally says. “I didn’t know you were into women.” That is, unless you and the person from her advice column are one and the same. She's chosen to approach what she's dubbed the “EspressoEyes conundrum” as a Schrödinger’s cat scenario, where you simultaneously do and do not have feelings for Leigh.

You fiddle with your coffee mug. “Yeah, I think I've mentioned that before,” you say, though your memory suddenly feels unreliable.

Leigh shakes her head, certain. “No, you definitely haven't told me that.”

“Well, yes, I'm into women, but obviously I like men too,” you say, deciding it's perhaps better to just be clear.

“We're the same then,” she says casually, as if discussing something as mundane as their taste in movies.

“Really?” You’re hoping Leigh is buying the faux surprise on your face, even though Jules had let slip about Leigh's college days.

“Yeah,” Leigh nods. “I had a serious relationship with a woman back in college. It's not something I talk about much, but it's part of who I am.”

“I see.”

Leigh takes a slow sip of her coffee, eyeing you over the rim of her mug with a slight tilt of her head.

“So, do you like her? Sara, I mean,” she asks.

“Yeah, she’s great. We get along really well.”

Leigh sets her coffee cup down with a small clink, not missing a beat. “Have you guys...you know, slept together?” she asks, more bluntly than before.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a bit like you’re under interrogation. “Um…no, we haven’t.”

A quick glint flashes in her eyes before it vanishes. Her shoulders relax as she leans back in her chair. “Sorry, that was out of line,” she mumbles with a curt, dismissive laugh. “I guess I'm just being nosy.”

The way she said it doesn't truly suggest she's sorry for crossing some lines, but you’re not focusing on that. Rather, you feel like you’ve earned the right to ask Leigh some questions about her own personal affairs.

“And you?” you start, trying to sound flippant. “How are things with you and Danny?”

Leigh matches your nonchalance as she stands up to gather the empty plates from the table. There's a smooth, practiced ease in the way she begins cleaning up, letting you know she's not about to let your questions corner her.

“Things are... going,” she replies, keeping it vague. “Danny's great. We're figuring things out as we go.”

“Where'd you meet him?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“He's Matt's brother,” Leigh says flatly, without flinching. You have to give it to her for being so straightforward about it. Not that you’re judging Leigh or anything—it’s just that moving from in-laws to lovers is quite an unconventional transition.

It’s also possible that you’re just bitter.

“Did you always find him attractive?” you ask, almost spitefully, curiosity getting the better of you. Leigh freezes, her back going rigid at your callous words. There's a moment of visible tension, but then she lets out a slow breath and lets it slide. She had been quite direct in probing about your dating life, so perhaps this levels the playing field.

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Leigh says slowly. “I—”

“Oh hey, Y/N, it's been a while!”

Neither of you heard the front door open. Jules bursts in, holding Logan who's wagging his tail wildly at the sight of familiar faces, both oblivious to the cutting atmosphere they've just entered.

“Oh hey, Y/N, it's been a while!” Jules exclaims. She looks between you and Leigh. “Am I interrupting something?” she asks, noticing the residual stiffness in the air.

“Y/N was just leaving,” Leigh says.

You don’t need to be told twice. “Hey, Jules,” you say with a short wave. “I just came to give Logan his shots.”

Jules frowns slightly as you start to leave so soon after her arrival. You reach over to give Logan a quick pat on the head. Turning to Leigh, you manage a tight smile and say, “Thanks for the breakfast.”

As soon as you're out the door, Jules turns to Leigh with a worried look. “What was all that about?” she asks softly.

Leigh shrugs, her expression inscrutable. “I don’t know what you mean,” she replies evenly, turning away to busy herself with the dishes.

You get into your car but instead of starting it, you just sit there motionless. Your hands rest aimlessly on the wheel as you lose yourself in thought.

Here’s the truth about Sara:

She's exactly your type on paper—blonde, blue-eyed, stunning. But despite all that, she hadn't managed to hold your attention. Her beauty just couldn't pull your mind away from Leigh, from her vivid green eyes that always seemed to see right through you.

The silence in the car allows you to realize what an odd question you had thrown at Leigh about Danny. You realize just how inappropriate it might have seemed, how it must have sounded coming from a place of jealousy rather than concern.

Why did you even ask that? The answer is uncomfortably clear: you can't be just friends with Leigh. Not anymore. You’ve been lying to yourself, hoping things would just sort themselves out. But they won’t. Not like this. You can’t keep doing this to yourself—or to her.

Because right now, this friendship, if you can even call it that, is doing more harm than good.

“It’s not working.”

Suzie looks up from her clipboard, startled. Her red locks tumble across her face as she tilts her head, brushing them back with a quick flick of her hand.

“Seeing other people, you mean?” she asks, already guessing the root of your distress.

You run a hand through your hair, messing up your low ponytail. Frustrated, you decide to let your hair loose from the tie altogether.

“I thought if I met someone like Sara—someone who’s practically a checklist of everything I find attractive—it would make things easier. But it’s just... not.” You massage your temples, as if trying to rub away the spell Leigh seems to have cast on you. “She's perfect, but she's not Leigh. And no matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about Leigh.”

“You're right about one thing though,” Suzie says, getting back to her task.

“Which is…?”

“That Sara’s perfect,” she chuckles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. “Look, you can’t force these feelings. If your heart’s not in it, it’s not in it.”

“So…Should I keep seeing her? Maybe she’ll grow on me or something.”

Suzie stops and gives you a serious look. “Maybe. But love shouldn't feel like an obligation, you know? It’s not fair to either of you if you’re just waiting to see if you’ll catch feelings.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” you acknowledge with a sigh. “She’s everything I thought I wanted. And I think she likes me.”

“Sometimes what we think we want isn’t what we really need,” Suzie answers. “Why not take a break? Give yourself some space to think. It might help you figure out what really works—whether it’s Sara, someone else, or just time to yourself.”

“You think so?”

Suzie gives a small shrug. “Look, I don’t have all the answers.”

Hearing that makes you feel a tad embarrassed. You’ve been leaning on her for advice a lot lately, and it’s probably awkward for her, especially since you're her boss. Maybe she’s just being nice because she has to be.

“Thanks, Sue,” you say, standing up from your chair to head back to your office. “I appreciate you listening to all this.”

She smiles back, and you can tell she’s relieved to move on from the subject. Suzie might not have all the answers, but maybe there’s another place you can find them.

That night, in your bedroom, you settle in front of your laptop, the cursor blinking expectantly on the blank submission form of the advice column. You type in your handle—EspressoEyes—a moniker you’d used before, thinking it would increase your chances of being noticed again. Quickly, you type out your query and hit send, watching as it disappears into the digital ether. No sooner have you shut your laptop than your phone rings. It’s your mom.

“Hey, Mom,” you answer, shifting to sit against your headboard.

“Hi, sweetheart! Are you coming home for Thanksgiving? We’re starting to plan the menu and would love to have you,” she says. Your chest tightens. Just hearing her voice makes you feel like you’re already home. You pretend to think for a second, considering your rather empty social calendar.

“Yeah, I’ll come home,” you decide, realizing it might be nice to get away for a bit.

“Oh good! It’s been too long. We’ll make sure to have all your favorites,” she chatters on, already listing the dishes that would normally make you salivate. But these days, you just don’t have the appetite for food.

“Sounds great, Mom. Really looking forward to it.”

You hang up with a promise to send your flight details soon. Setting your phone down, you feel a slight relief at the thought of escaping to a place where no one knows about the mess you’re in.

Leigh can’t sleep. She lies wide awake, staring at the ceiling while Danny's snores fill the room. The weight of his arm draped over her stomach feels stifling, trapping her in place. She can’t breathe. Carefully, so as not to wake him, she slips out from under his arm and tiptoes out of the bedroom. In the hallway, she grabs one of his shirts hanging over a chair and slips it on. It smells like sandalwood and something uniquely him—comforting yet somehow off-putting at the same time.

She pads into the kitchen to boil some water, the soft click of the stove burner igniting a comforting sound in the otherwise quiet apartment. With the kettle on, she wanders into the living room, pulling Danny's shirt closer around her. Even with the windows closed, the crisp chill of autumn seeps in.

Sitting on the couch, Leigh pulls her knees to her chest. The post-sex cocktail of oxytocin and vasopressin usually knocks her out, but tonight they fail her. Instead, her mind is filled with doubts and the urge to flee from any kind of closeness.

She remembers the last conversation with you, the disapproval on your face when you finally mentioned her relationship with Danny. It troubles her more than she expected. Were you right? Is she just scrambling to fit someone, anyone, into her life, even if it means ignoring the screams inside her head telling her to run?

The kettle whistles, snapping her out of her thoughts. She makes her tea and settles back into the couch, stirring slowly as she thinks about what it might mean to step back from everything—Danny, you, all of it.

With nothing but time until sleep takes her or the sun rises—whichever comes first—Leigh picks up her phone to distract herself. She scrolls through social media, news articles, anything to keep her mind off the spinning thoughts. Eventually, she wanders to the advice column inbox to check on the latest submissions.

Her breath catches in her throat when she sees another entry from EspressoEyes, a handle she recognizes—possibly yours. It reads:

“Is it wise to pursue other relationships if you have strong feelings for someone else? That someone is a friend, and staying just friends is becoming increasingly difficult. My feelings seem to be putting a strain on our relationship. Should I give myself some space?”

Leigh reads the message two more times. She sets her phone down, her thumb instinctively finding its way to her mouth where she nibbles at the nail, a nervous habit when she’s thinking long and hard. And the more she thinks about it, the more obvious it becomes. Of course, she's the friend you're talking about. This is you, openly struggling with your feelings for her. She had hoped things might change, might become less complicated when Sara came into the picture, but she was mistaken.

When she asked about Sara, Leigh was trying to gauge your feelings for her, wondering if Sara's presence meant she didn't need to worry about whether you were EspressoEyes or not. In her mind, if you were involved with Sara, it would imply you weren't interested in Leigh. But she surprised even herself by asking if you had slept with Sara, unsure why she needed to know that detail. Deep down, she couldn’t openly admit just how relieved she felt when you told her you hadn’t.

Leigh picks up her phone again and starts typing out a reply to the submission. When she’s done she tosses her phone somewhere on the couch and goes back to her tea. Sitting there, she watches as the sky outside shifts from dark to a wash of pastels.

A week later, Leigh’s phone vibrates incessantly on the table, the screen lighting up with Danny's name again. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, she turns it off and sets it aside. They've been cycling through breakups and makeups so often it's exhausting—a twisted routine, one that's leaving her more drained each time.

It's Halloween, and since she and Danny are off again, Leigh decides to take the night for herself. She picks Matt's favorite restaurant, which is fully decked out for the holiday, with jack-o'-lanterns lining the walls and eerie candles flickering on each table. She orders a pumpkin-spiced latte and a small plate of appetizers, settling in to enjoy her evening solo. Later, she’ll have that tiramisu that her late husband so adored.

Matt always loved this holiday because it was the one time of year Leigh would indulge him by dressing up as whatever comic book character he was into at the moment. They'd start the evening here for pre-dinner celebrations before meeting up with friends and family later on. But tonight, there are no costumes for Leigh; she's dressed simply in jeans and a cardigan, her face free of makeup, her hair tucked behind her ears to keep it out of the way while she eats.

As she waits, she watches families and couples in costumes come and go, a bittersweet creeping up at her.

Then, you walk in. You’re dressed sharply, scanning the room like you're meeting someone—on a date. Leigh catches her breath. Were you aware that this was Matt’s favorite restaurant? Moreover, it’s been almost two weeks since that awkward morning when you left in a haste. You haven’t noticed her yet. Leigh watches you for a moment, debating what to do. She’s torn between going over or staying put. The last she contributed to the advice column, she’d left a message she hoped you'd find useful if you were indeed the person she’s been advising to. From the look of things, maybe you were taking that advice after all.

Taking a deep breath, Leigh stands and walks over. As you turn and notice her, a small, tentative smile appears on her lips when your eyes meet.

“Hey.”

You return the smile, though it's imbued with a bit of wariness. She appreciates it nonetheless.

“Hey,” you say.

Leigh doesn't beat around the bush; she gets straight to the point of why she came over. “Look, I'm sorry,” she says, the words coming out almost demandingly. “About last time. I crossed a line asking about Sara.”

There's an unmistakable assertiveness to her apology, carrying the same confidence and directness with which she usually addresses any issue. She doesn’t bow her head or wring her hands; instead, she holds your gaze steadily, expecting her apology to be taken as seriously as she means it.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t exactly in line myself when I brought up Danny,” you say, looking up at her. Then, searching for something else to say, you ask, “So, are you here to meet Danny?”

Leigh seems unfazed by the mention of Danny, yet again. You feel a bit silly soon after, realizing that after just acknowledging the awkwardness of digging into each other’s romantic lives, here you are, doing it again. You just can’t help yourself, can you?

“No. I’m on my own tonight,” she replies. Then she mirrors your earlier question, a slight tilt to her head. “And you? Here with Sara?”

“No, things didn’t push through with Sara. I’m meeting someone new,” you say, the words feeling strange as they come out. It was a simple yes or no question, and you're not quite sure what compelled you to open up about the specifics of your dating life.

Leigh just nods, her face neutral, not giving away anything in reaction to your news. “I should let you get back to your, uh, date,” she says, then quietly returns to her seat.

Having a date with a stranger just a few feet away from the woman you truly care about is about as ironic as the universe can be.

You’re on your second americano, the bitter taste barely registering as you glance at your watch for the umpteenth time. It's been thirty minutes past the time your date was supposed to arrive, and there's still no sign of him.

The restaurant has filled up around you. Families are tucked into booths, laughing and sharing plates piled high with food. Groups of friends clink glasses in cheerful toasts, and couples lean close, whispering and smiling over candlelit tables. Sitting alone at a table set for two, you start to feel conspicuously isolated.

The last two texts you sent within the hour remain unanswered, their blue bubbles on the screen marking the time you spent waiting. Determined to find some explanation, you open the dating app where you met him, your fingers tapping nervously. There, his profile pops up, showing that he is currently online. Relief washes over you for a moment—maybe there's a reasonable explanation. He might still show up. But as you tap the message icon to send him a query about his whereabouts, a sudden notification stops you: you can no longer message this user.

Feeling disheartened and embarrassed, you can’t help but feel all kinds of ugly for being stood up by someone who doesn’t even mean anything to you. Did he see you waiting and decide not to meet? What about you turned him off? You find yourself scrutinizing everything about your appearance. Was it what you were wearing—perhaps not feminine enough for his taste? Your hair was pulled back, exposing your forehead; maybe he didn't like that look. Or was it your posture—too slouched or too stiff? You even wonder if he might have passed someone else on his way here, someone he found more attractive. It's unsettling to realize how quickly the self-confidence you've spent years building can be shaken in just one evening.

You signal the waiter for the check. Although your stomach is growling, the thought of eating anything seems impossible right now. You're just focused on getting out of there as quickly as you can. Just as you finish paying, Leigh appears at your table. Without a word, she slides into the seat across from you. You're surprised to see her, and although you're not really in the mood for company or conversation, her presence is somehow less intrusive than you would expect.

“I couldn't help but notice your date never arrived,” Leigh comments with an amused smile, inadvertently adding salt to the wound. You think to yourself, Way to rub it in, Leigh, but you're too drained to actually say anything confrontational, so you just mumble a small, “Yeah.”

Leigh leans in a bit closer, lowering her voice as if she's about to let you in on a secret.

“Want to get out of here?”

It’s definitely not a date. Far from it.

It’s just two friends winding up spending Halloween together by chance.

It’s what Leigh keeps telling herself.

Leigh didn’t know what came over her when she went back to your table. She hadn't thought she'd be asking you to ditch the restaurant and wander the city for the rest of the night—together. What she did know was that she had been eating unusually slowly, glancing over at you occasionally to see how your evening was unfolding. But as it became painfully obvious that your date was a no-show, she couldn’t take it; seeing you left to handle the disappointment alone was more than she could bear.

Turning to Leigh in your car, you ask, “Do you mind if we stop first at the 7-Eleven on Main? I haven't had dinner yet.”

“What kind of dinner can you get from a 7-Eleven?” she asks.

You shrug and say, “Donuts.”

At the 7-Eleven, you grab a box of assorted donuts, and on a whim, you also pick up a few cans of beer to go along with them. With snacks in hand, you drive to a spot that overlooks the city—the same one where Leigh took you after getting takeouts the first time around. It’s not secluded—there’s a small crowd, with several cars parked and groups of people lounging on their car hoods.

“I wasn’t always attracted to him,” Leigh murmurs, after finishing her first beer. You both sit side-by-side with the trunk of your car open, swinging your legs while Leigh’s are crossed over the edge of the trunk.

You glance over at her, a curious ‘Hm?’ escaping your lips, though they're still full of donuts.

Leigh chuckles at your reaction, finding the sight of your cheeks stuffed with food more endearing than she probably should.

“Danny,” she clarifies with a sigh. “I actually used to hate him. He was always such a burden on Matt. Always dragging him into trouble.”

You think about what she's said, then offer a perspective, “You know, they say hate isn't the opposite of love, it's indifference. So maybe there’s always been something there, something more than just annoyance.”

Leigh leans back, stretching her arms out behind her for support as she considers your point. You find yourself wondering what's going through her mind. Is your honesty drawing her even closer to Danny? You could have exploited her past feelings, suggesting that maybe she's always disliked Danny and is confusing her loneliness for love. But you choose not to manipulate her emotions, even if it might be easy to sway her. You won't take advantage of her vulnerability just to get what you want.

Though you can’t deny that the temptation is there.

“Leigh, can I ask you a question?” you say, watching her closely.

She nods, her face open and expectant as she pops open another can of beer.

“How did you find out about me and Matt?”

Leigh takes a sip before answering. “Didn’t I mention it before?”

You purse your lips and shake your head, maintaining a neutral expression as you encourage her to elaborate.

“Danny told me,” Leigh reveals after a brief pause.

“What exactly did he tell you?”

Leigh hesitates, her eyes flickering to the side before meeting yours again. She sets the can down, her fingers drumming against the aluminum in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

“He just flat-out told me one night. I didn't believe him at first, so he mentioned your name to prove it, and I pieced together the rest. I tried to learn everything I could about you, where you lived... and that’s how I discovered your clinic in the city. And I... well, you know the rest,” she says. From what Leigh said, you easily conclude that Danny hadn't come clean to her about his role in facilitating your relationship with Matt. He had conveniently removed himself from the narrative, leaving out his involvement entirely. Lost in thought, you don't realize you've grown quiet until Leigh's voice pulls you back.

“Why do you ask?”

If you answer that question, you don’t believe you can continue hiding the truth about Danny any longer. As you watch Leigh, relaxed in the back of your car, her hair tousled by the gentle evening breeze, you're torn. You're afraid of disrupting her peace. The truth, as it often has, seems only to bring her pain. So, you buy yourself some time to think.

“Do you ever wish he had just kept it to himself? That you never knew any of this?”

Leigh appears briefly disconcerted by the question. She takes some time to think about how to respond, and you give her the time she needs, reaching for another piece of donut from the box. At this rate, you're on track to polish off half a dozen all by yourself.

“Knowing the truth hurt—a lot. It felt like I was suddenly a stranger to my own life,” Leigh says, looking somewhere distant before her eyes return to you. “But then again, knowing has changed how I see things, how I see him—and even how I see you. It’s given me a chance to see things as they really are, not just how I want them to be.”

“You never would’ve met me,” you say with a light-hearted grin, almost suggesting that maybe it was better she hadn’t. But Leigh gives you a look, a gentle sadness in her eyes that makes it clear she doesn’t entertain the thought of not having met you.

“What about you? Do you wish things had stayed hidden?” she asks, turning the question back on you.

A part of you—a very significant part—trembles on the edge of laying bare your feelings for her.

Fiddling with the edge of the donut box, you let a small smile flicker across your lips, but it doesn't reach your eyes. “There's something to be said for not knowing everything. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss,” you say softly. “I mean, not knowing can save you from a lot of unnecessary heartache.”

As you speak, you’re still weighing whether knowing Leigh is turning into an unnecessary heartbreak.

Leigh nods slowly, the corners of her mouth lifting in a bittersweet smile. “Well, when you put it that way, maybe not knowing some things is for the best.”

It feels like a silent agreement on that fine line between knowing everything and being happier not knowing. Perhaps what you can do for now is spare Leigh from her own unnecessary heartbreak. If what she has with Danny is working, why ruin it?

“You know what's missing here? Music,” Leigh muses, reaching for her third beer. “Oh, and you better keep up,” she adds, glancing at the single beer you’ve had.

“Or how about you pace yourself? I'd hate for the party to end too soon for you,” you quip slyly.

Leigh grins, unfazed by your warning. She leans closer, and her breath, warmed by the beers, brushes against your cheek. “Speaking of parties, I actually got invited to this Halloween bash tonight. Everyone's supposed to be in costume, and there will definitely be music. We should go. What do you say?”

You pretend to think about it, but you’re already clearing out your trunk and hopping off it as you reply, “Well, you did say you needed music.”

A party isn’t really your scene.

Leigh is already tipsy by the time you both arrive at it. People are either clad in bulky costumes or barely dressed at all. Halloween decorations dangle from the ceiling, a foot or two above the faces of the revelers as strobe lights flash in erratic bursts. You weave through a crowd of zombies and sexy nurses, the bass from the DJ's speakers vibrating under your feet.

As you're both making your way toward the bar, a co-worker spots Leigh and pulls her aside excitedly. “Leigh, over here!” they shout over the noise, grabbing her arm. She turns back to you with a slightly apologetic grin. “Just a sec, I'll catch up!” she promises, before being swallowed by the crowd, her hand slipping from your arm.

But that was half an hour ago.

Now, you're feeling dizzy from the alcohol that's been keeping you company in Leigh's absence, and the sea of masked and painted faces around you is starting to merge into a blur. You round a corridor that brings you back to the main room and finally, you spot her. Leigh is near the dance floor, laughing with a group dressed in characters you don’t recognize. She sees you and waves excitedly, her movements a bit too exaggerated. You make your way over, dodging a particularly enthusiastic witch.

“Found you,” you say, as you reach her side.

Leigh grins, her eyes bright. “Dance with me!” she yells over the music, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the throng of sweaty bodies. Too exhausted to argue, you let her lead you into the chaos. As the music takes over and you both start to dance, the rest of the party fades into the background. Leigh's hand is warm in yours, her other hand reaching up to loop around your neck. The music swells, and the crowd presses in, pushing you closer together. Her breath is sweet with the tang of alcohol, and her cheeks are flushed.

Leigh’s movements become less and less coordinated as she leans into you, her body heavenly against yours. Her lips come dangerously close to yours, barely brushing against them, and for a moment—surrounded by her warmth and scent—you're tempted. You want her, deeply, irrevocably—

But not like this.

You firm your hands on her hips, pushing her slightly away. “Hey, let's get some air, yeah?” you suggest calmly despite your heart going crazy in your chest.

She looks up at you, a bit confused but nods, her smile unfaltering. You take her hand again and guide her off the dance floor. Moving through the crowd proves to be a challenge with Leigh's unsteady steps. She stumbles, laughing as she clings to your arm for support.

“I almost ate it back there!” she exclaims, still giggling.

“Yeah, you did,” you mutter distractedly. As the festive sounds of the party fade behind the closed door, reality slaps you both with a sobering chill. Leigh is simply too drunk, and you’re almost a fool for nearly taking advantage of that. You can't concentrate on anything but what nearly happened back there.

You feel Leigh’s hand slip back into yours, slotting in place like magnets that just fit together. Her laughter has quieted, and she leans into you slightly, resting her head on your shoulder. It's then you realize that a drunken Leigh is more affectionate and less aware of physical boundaries—dangerous.

“You know, maybe we should call it a night? I can take you home,” you suggest, making an effort not to lean into her, even though the intoxicating mix of her shampoo and the faint scent of sweat beckons you closer.

Her reaction is immediate and surprisingly lucid. “I can’t go home like this,” Leigh protests, straightening up. “Jules has her own Halloween thing tonight, and I can't show up drunk and be seen like this by her. She’s been sober for a year now; I can’t just...” Her voice trails off, filled with worry.

You glance at your wrist and see it's already 2 AM. A sigh escapes you as the reality of your early morning responsibilities begins to weigh in. You have to be up in four hours to open the clinic at 8 AM, and staying out to make sure Leigh fully sobers up is far from feasible. Leigh appears exhausted, her eyes heavy, even as she tries to muster a smile.

“Listen, Leigh,” you say, eyeing a practical solution. “I have an early start tomorrow, and you look like you need some rest. How about you crash at my place tonight? You can sleep it off and head home in the morning when you’re feeling better.”

Leigh seems to consider this for a moment, her gaze drifting towards the street where groups of men glance their way as they pass by. Finally, she nods meekly, looking relieved.

“That sounds really good right now. My head feels heavy, and I just want to go to sleep,” she mumbles, letting out a weary sigh and rubbing her eyes. You help her to her feet and steady her as you both walk back to your car, which is fortunately parked nearby. Leigh curls up in the passenger seat, and you crack the windows to let in some fresh air.

Once home, you give Leigh some clothes to change into and then start setting up the couch for yourself, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket from the cupboard. As you turn back a while later, you see Leigh, in her slightly tipsy state, misinterpreting your preparations. She gives a small, tired smile and plops down onto the couch. Reacting quickly, you catch her just before she falls completely into it.

“W-What are you doing?” she whispers, surprised as she finds herself practically in your arms, half-carried in a bridal style.

You feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your chest, aware of how close she is. “This is for me,” you say, nodding towards the couch, “you’re taking the bed.”

To avoid any further confusion, you slowly lift her up, wrapping an arm securely around her waist as you guide her to your bedroom. Leigh’s head remains tucked in your neck, her body relaxed and yielding as you move.

“You really don’t have to do this,” she mumbles against your skin, though her tone suggests she’s grateful for your care. You don’t see the blush that has crept to her own cheeks, your eyes fixed straight ahead.

“It’s no trouble at all,” you assure her as you gently set her down on your bed. “Make yourself comfortable. The mattress’ much better for a good night's sleep.”

Leigh nods, pulling the covers around her. “Thank you,” she says, her voice soft and more sober now.

“Anytime,” you respond with a reassuring smile. “Good night, Leigh.” You close the bedroom door softly behind you and retreat to the couch.

“Good night, Y/N…” Leigh whispers to herself, a faint smile touching her lips as she nestles deeper into the bed.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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andvys · 1 day

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side.

Warnings: fluff, lots and lots fluff, just a teeny tiny bit of angst, just a bunch of tooth rooting sweetness

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: On a rainy Thursday, something shifts between you and Steve, something you can not see yet, while Steve gets lost in a glimpse of the future he could feel on this day.

Word count: 9k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, roe. especially with the last bit, you're the bestest ♡ Steve's shower scene was fully written by her so give her some loveeee

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

The rain paddles against your windows softly, the sun is hidden behind the heavy dark clouds, and the light wind rustles the trees outside. You didn’t close the blinds last night, but it doesn’t matter anyways, it’s dark and gloomy outside.

The soft covers touch your bare skin, the smell of cologne is heavy in the air, along with the smell of sex that still lingers after the previous night.

The weight of his arm keeps you in place, keeps you close, he is making your heart flutter in this early morning hour already.

He is facing you, just as you are facing him. His palm rests on your lower back, his legs tangled with yours underneath the sheets. He pulls you closer when you try to move, tightening his hold on you, but he is still so fast asleep. His lashes look so much longer when his eyes are closed, his features are completely relaxed, he is breathing softly, his heart beats against your palm as you keep your hand close to it.

You eye the moles on his skin and the scars on his body.

Your hands always itch to touch him, to graze his skin with the tips of your fingers, and you can do so when he’s fast asleep and unaware of your loving touches.

You raise your hand up to his face, pushing away the curl that hangs loosely over his forehead. Your touch is light as a feather as you trace the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before you return your hand back to his chest, freezing when a sigh falls from his lips and he stirs in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him in the process before he sinks deeper into the pillows, eyes still shut and heart still beating softly.

You breathe out and relax when he continues sleeping deeply.

You don’t want to get caught admiring him, and touching him like this, when only a few days ago, you feared that you would lose him after Eddie confronted you both.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

His words cut deep, and the fear of losing him added to the hurt. You weren’t ready to lose this, you weren’t ready to lose him, and you thought that you were so very close to it until he showed up the next morning, and asked if things would stay the same between you and him now that someone found out.

The weight that stayed on your shoulders nearly crushed you, but he took it off you, and without realizing that he did, he took some of your worries too, just not the pain, and the mark he left on your heart with a few simple words. But it didn’t matter, because kissing him and feeling his touch again, was all that mattered, to know that it wasn’t over just yet… that mattered.

You can hide the sadness and the pain when he holds you like this, you can even forget about it… momentarily.

You forgot about it last night, when he kissed your neck and he marked your skin, when he unraveled you with his tongue and the touch of his hands, when he split you open and kissed you like you were his, when he looked into your eyes and he held your wrist as the tips of his fingers touched your palm, like he wanted to entwine them with yours and feel you closer and closer as you were chest to chest and his lips moved with yours like none have ever did before.

Shivers run down your spine, and butterflies dance in your stomach when the sound of his voice calling out your name echoes in your mind.

You might not be the one for him. And you know that there might be others, but you don’t even want to let your mind go there, just the mere thought of it, fills you with nausea. He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matters the most to you. You know that you can give him so much more than anyone else ever could. If only he let you. If only there was a chance.

You nearly jump from the bed when the ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts, and it echoes through the quiet house.

Your eyes widen, and your heart starts pounding as panic settles deep in your chest. You stare at Steve, who is peacefully asleep, still.

You flinch at the second ringing.

“Fuck,” you whisper when you remember the burgundy car in your driveway. There is no reason for Steve to be at your place so early in the morning. There is no believable explanation either, what will you say to whoever it is on the other side of the door?

If this is one of your friends, you are screwed, so screwed.

You know, as a matter of fact, that it isn’t Eddie – he wouldn’t show up this early unless it was an emergency, and even then, he’d be in your room by now.

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake, but he only grumbles in his sleep and hides his face further into the pillows.

You sigh.

You push his arm off and escape his embrace. You throw the covers off, and jump up from your bed, standing in only your underwear for a moment as you search for your clothes, you reach for his shirt instead and throw it on, before you rush out of the room, trying to fix your messy hair as you run down the stairs.

You don’t have much time to come up with lies and excuses as to why Steve’s car is in your driveway, whoever it is on the other side of the door, is getting a little impatient.

“I’m coming,” you grumble and unlock the front door before you rip it open, holding your breath.

“Finally!”

You sigh out in relief, rolling your eyes at your own panic. You step aside and open the door a little wider.

“What took you so long?” Your sister murmurs as she steps inside and brushes past you. She is carrying a bag in one hand and the bright pink baby carrier your baby niece is currently sleeping in.

All your annoyance leaves your body right this second, your eyes soften and a smile appears on your face.

“Hello to you too, Twinkie.”

She rolls her eyes at your nickname but pulls you in for a side hug after dropping the bag on the ground.

“Give me her,” you smile as you take the carrier from her arm, and carry it into the living room, smiling as you eye the little features of the baby girl. You put the carrier down on the couch. “Hi Francine,” you whisper, gently tapping her tiny nose. “She’s so big already!”

Your sister laughs as she follows you into the living room after kicking off her shoes, “you’ve seen her last week, I don’t think she grew much.”

“She kind of did,” you whisper, taking Francine’s tiny hand. “They grow so fast.”

Your sister walks over to the window, peeking outside, she clears her throat, “do I wanna know whose car that is?”

You glance over your shoulder and swallow nervously.

You’re glad that her memory is awful.

Everyone knows who is driving the burgundy BMW, and your sister still lived in Hawkins when he got it. She should know who it belongs to.

Her lips curl into a smirk, and she wiggles her brows, “casual hook up, or… is it something serious?”

You know that she has been waiting for this day.

It is something serious, to you.

It is something serious when he holds you closely and kisses you softly, when his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile at the sight of you.

It is something serious when your heart flutters every time his knuckles brush against yours.

It is something serious when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the very same spot.

It is something serious when you keep falling and falling with no end in sight.

Will you ever stop falling in love with him?

Will there ever be a moment where your feelings and your love will stop at one level, or will you continue falling harder every passing moment?

Your sister raises her eyebrows, lips curling into an even bigger smile, when she notices the flustered look on your face, the dreamy look in your eyes.

“Something serious, huh?”

You blink.

Staring at her, with your cheeks now feeling warm… way too warm, you shake your head quickly.

“N-No.”

You curse inwardly, for giving yourself away so easily with your stuttering and your blushing. That’s not how you ever reacted before when she mentioned any of your hookups.

She grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows, “mhm sure, Daisy.”

You roll your eyes at her teasing glances, but the nickname makes you smile.

Out of all the flowers, your mom loved Daisies the most, she would put the dainty flowers in your braids, and behind your ear whenever you were out in the garden. You would pick them for her and make little bouquets to surprise her with.

She always called you her little Daisy.

Your sister picked up on that nickname, though she used it to mock you at first when she went through a weird phase of hating flowers – which is really ironic considering the flower shop she ended up working at when she moved to the city.

She could’ve given you another nickname, something silly – something like the name you gave to her, but she spared you, luckily.

“Shut up, Twinkie,” you mumble, as you look back at your niece, who is beginning to stir in her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as small noises escape her mouth. “As happy as I am to see this little bean, why are you here at uh,” you pause, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall, “ten in the morning?” You ask.

She makes her way over to you, a sweet smile appearing on her face, as she gives you her best puppy eyes.

“I was hoping that you could look after Francine?” She asks, still smiling. “Lisa is getting married soon, and she asked me to go wedding dress shopping with her, I can’t take her, we’ll probably be out all day, and I can’t wait for Ethan to get home, his shift won’t end before–”

“It’s fine, I’ll look after her,” you interrupt her, despite the slight nervousness that rises up in you.

You have no experience with babies at all, you have given her the bottle, you even changed her diaper, but your sister was around, and you didn’t spend the whole day alone with her.

She sighs in relief, she puts her hand on your shoulder, “oh thank you!”

“Don’t mention it, I’d never say no to hanging out with my favorite girl.”

“You need to spend more time with her anyways, you coming once a week isn’t enough!”

You frown at your sister, “you’re the one who moved away!”

She waves her hand at you, walking around the couch, she walks over to the carrier, “she always does that little scrunch with her nose before she wakes up.”

You smile, watching as she leans in to place a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek.

“Okay,” she whispers, pulling back to look at you, “I put everything into the bag, diapers, bottles, formula, a change of clothes in case her diapers leak, and uh… pacifiers. And uh, you know if she cries just lie down with her and put her on your chest, she loves cuddles.”

You nod, “yeah, I know, I haven’t forgotten. I got this.”

“Yeah you do, Daisy. And if you need help, just call Eddie–”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, shaking your head as amusement flashes in your eyes.

Eddie and Max were there, the last time your sister showed up with her husband and little Francine.

While the redhead was rather excited to hold the little girl, Eddie felt too afraid to even touch her, and he nearly gagged when Max chased him with a dirty diaper.

“He looked at her like he was scared of her!”

Your sister laughs, “yeah, right. Okay, so not Eddie then, I’m sure Max would love to help though, or maybe someone else – but I’ll get going now, I promise, I’ll make it up to you, you got this, Daisy.” She smiles, ruffling your hair, she leans down to look at her daughter one more time, “bye bug, I’ll see you soon,” she whispers and squeezes her tiny foot before she steps away. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later, Twinkie.”

The moment the front door is slammed shut, you let out a long sigh, and throw your head back against the pillows on your couch. You bring your hand up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose.

You are still tired, and it seems as though Steve is still sleeping soundly.

You want nothing more than to return back to bed and sink into your pillows again.

You definitely won’t get any sleep now, but you still get up and slowly lift the baby carrier, hoping that the movement won’t wake her up. You try to be careful as you make your way out of the living room and up the stairs.

When you walk into your room, you find Steve now laying on his stomach, his face buried in your pillow. The sheets are low on his body, his whole back is exposed.

The tiny cooing sounds from inside the carrier, cause your lips to curl into a big smile. You place it down on your carpet, and kneel down, giggling when you’re met by her big eyes. She starts wiggling around when she sees you.

“Hi little angel,” you whisper, and lean closer to unfasten the safety belts, before you lift her up from the carrier, placing your right hand behind her head, you pull her into your chest, her hand instantly reaches for your hair, clasping her tiny fingers around it, she makes you laugh when she starts pulling it, making happy noises while she does so.

You sit down on your bed, and lift your legs up, scooting back until you’re resting against the pillows behind you. You pull the covers over your lower body.

A small squeal leaves her mouth.

“Shh, someone’s sleeping,” you whisper, tapping her little nose, glancing at Steve who is starting to stir in his sleep.

You place her on your lap, and giggle at the cuteness as she stretches her little legs out. “That’s a cute onesie,” you whisper, rubbing her belly, “I bet you picked that yourself didn’t you? Pink is a pretty color on you, princess.”

She babbles and wiggles around as she stares at you with her big eyes.

Your voice, and the small coos pull Steve out of his deep sleep, his mind is still in a haze, his eyes still closed.

“Da da da.”

Your giggle follows the tiny voice.

Steve scrunches his brows together, gripping the pillow underneath him, he slowly opens his eyes and looks at your side of the bed, his lips part and his eyes widen completely, something in his chest stirs strongly as he stares at the sight in front of him.

He is still sleeping.

He is still dreaming.

A smile is resting on your face, eyes lightened up as you entertain the little baby girl on your lap, a pink bow around her head, big eyes resembling your own as she stares at you with a smile on her face, her hair color is the same as yours.

Steve swallows the lump that grew in his throat, warmth settles in his chest, surrounding his heart and filling it with something, with adoration.

His eyes soften when you lean down to kiss her forehead, squishing her tiny cheeks.

“You’re the prettiest girl, Francis,” you whisper, using her nickname.

His lips curl into a smile, despite the confusion that still lingers in his features.

This is surely one of his dreams, he is convinced of it, why else would he wake up beside you, and a baby who looks like you?

But when you turn to face him, and the little girl follows your movement, looking at him with wide eyes, he isn’t so sure anymore.

He blinks, watching as you reach for Francis’s little arm, waving her tiny hand at him, “say hi Steve.”

The little girl babbles even louder, making a grabby hand at him.

Steve smiles at her, raising his hand up, he waves at her.

You can’t help but laugh at the lost and confused look on his face, his brows are pulled together, his lips parted as he looks between you and your niece.

He turns around on his back, and pushes himself so he’s leaning against your headboard, adjusting the cover, he pulls it up higher. He looks around the room, before his eyes return to the two of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair, eyes flickering back and forth.

Your lips tug into a smirk, you can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing right now.

You look at him, as you pull your niece closer, holding her up, you press her against your chest, “can you believe that we made a baby overnight?”

You almost burst into laughter when his brown eyes widened with pure shock, and he choked a little.

He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.”

Francine makes another grabby hand at him, “ma ma.”

“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure she just called you mama.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up, and he turns away from you, looking around your room again before his eyes catch the picture on your nightstand, the one of you and your sister. Oh.

“Ah… Your niece,” Steve murmurs as he looks back at the two of you.

“Good morning, Harrington,” you giggle. Francine copies your giggle, and Steve can’t help but smile. “Oh you like that name, huh? It’s funny isn’t it? Harrington.” Her little eyes crinkle, and she starts babbling with a laugh. Steve keeps her eyes on her, smiling at the little girl.

“That’s Francine,” you smile, introducing your niece to him.

Steve lifts his hand up, waving his fingers at her, “hi Francine, I’m Steve.”

She squirms in your arms, making happy noises as she blinks at him. Steve chuckles, he scoots closer to you, and he lifts his hand, and touches her tiny one. Francine wraps her hand around his finger, gripping it tightly, making his smile even bigger.

“Is your sister here?” He asks, without looking away from the little girl.

You shake your head, “no, she asked me to babysit today. So uh… I’ll be busy with my girl here today.”

The urge to stay here with you, and this cute little mini you, feels so strong.

“Want me to help?” Steve asks.

You’re a little stunned by his question, and can only stare in surprise.

“Huh?”

“I mean, I don’t mind staying to help,” Steve shrugs, glancing at you for a second before he gives his attention back to Francine, who stares at him in awe.

The thought of spending a whole day with Steve, taking care of a baby with him, sounds like heaven.

The only reason why he’s ever even around you without the group is because of sex, and that only. You don’t meet up just to watch movies, cook together or anything else, you only meet up for one thing, that’s all.

The fact that he is willing to just spend time with you, without expecting anything to happen baffles you a little.

“I-I… Do you really want to stay?”

He nods.

“Not much of a choice, to be honest,” he murmurs with a fond smile on his face as he gestures to your niece who is still holding his finger tightly.

“O-Okay,” you whisper, shakily as nervousness and excitement rise up in you.

“She’s so adorable,” Steve whispers, chuckling when Francine babbles at him, “she looks like you.”

You smile before you realize what he just said, and heat rushes to your cheeks.

She’s so adorable, she looks like you.

“I-I uh,” you stutter, trying to keep your cool, “so you’re gonna stay then?”

“Yeah, I’d love to hang out with Blondie and mini Blondie over here,” he chuckles as he taps her nose.

Your heart could burst right then and there, your cheeks feeling incredibly hot the longer you sit here and stare at him.

“Cool,” you say with a small voice as you suddenly feel the need to escape for a moment, “would you mind looking after her for a moment then? I wanna take a quick shower or else I’ll walk around looking like a bum all day.”

Steve turns to look at you, he takes in the sight of your messy hair, and the shirt on your body, only now noticing that it’s his. His insides tingle, and his lips curl into a smile.

You look like a cute bum. He almost blurts out, but bites his tongue.

“Sure, go ahead, me and Francine are just gonna hang out, right?”

She squeals in response, making jumpy movements.

You both laugh at her.

You lay her down beside him, and tickle her belly, giggling when she starts kicking her feet, “alright, I’ll be right back, angel.”

Steve doesn’t even notice how big his smile is, how soft his eyes are as he stares at you, how warm the feeling in his chest is.

“She might roll over on her belly, and if she gets a little fuzzy just pick her up, she loves snuggles. I’m gonna be quick.”

Steve scoots closer to Francine, leaning his elbow on the pillow, he rests his head against his palm, and glances at you, “it’s fine, take your time, I’m just gonna chat with her.”

Francine is still kicking her feet and waving around with her little arms.

“Oh yeah, she’s very talkative,” you giggle, and get up from the bed, you walk over to your dresser and pick out some clothes to change into. As much as you would love to wear his shirt all day, he needs it himself – although, you wouldn’t mind him walking around shirtless.

Once you get everything you need, you turn back to take a look at them, and you nearly melt into a puddle when you see the way she is still clutching his finger, kicking her legs and babbling something to him, while he watches her with a smile on his face.

“O-Okay, I’ll be right back.”

You leave the room in a haste, but Steve doesn’t even notice, too busy staring at little Francine. He adores the resemblance of you, and the color of her eyes that matches yours, she truly looks like you.

Steve can’t remember the last time he saw or even held a baby, he’s not sure if he ever even held one. He was ten when one of his cousins was born, but he didn’t care to hold him back then.

Francine keeps making a grabby hand at him, while she tugs at his finger, starting to get fuzzy after a few minutes pass without your presence in the room.

He sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up higher, he reaches for one of your throw pillows and places it on his lap.

“Alright Francine,” Steve whispers, he takes a deep breath and furrows his brows in concentration as he carefully lifts her up, supporting her head with his palm, he pulls her closer and lays her down on the soft pillow.

She coos and starts blowing bubbles, making Steve laugh.

“Oh, you’re so adorable,” he smiles, pulling her a little closer, “did you pick that bow today?” He asks, eying the headband around her little head.

She makes a few grunting noises, though looking at him with a happy look on her face.

“Your auntie loves those bows too, she puts some in her ponytails sometimes,” Steve says, talking to her as though he will get more than just a few babbles from her. “I bet you’re gonna steal them from her someday–”

Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrt

Steve’s face pales at the sound, his eyes widen.

The noise that came from her diapers sounded more than just air.

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before his eyes widen further at the curse word that just left his lips, “I shouldn’t have said that, shit– I mean, I’m sorry, please forget what I just said,” he rambles, as though she understood a single thing that he said.

Francine babbles, kicking her feet into his stomach with a happy squeal.

“Um,” he panics, looking around the room, “Blondie!?”

“What Steve!?” You call from the bathroom, “it’s been five minutes!”

“I uh–” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he furrows his brows, “code red…?”

You nearly laugh at his choice of words, you only ever used code red in the upside down, for the real emergencies.

You can already guess what happened, and it only makes your amusement grow bigger. You quickly put your clothes on, and brush your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and back to them.

“Okay, I’m here,” you announce, placing his shirt that you stole earlier on your bed, you walk over to his side, and take a seat beside him, “that was the quickest shower of my life.”

He gets a whiff of your vanilla body wash, of the mint from your toothpaste, and the smell of perfume that lingers in your hair, making his chest flutter.

“She uh– I think she needs a diaper change.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s what you’re panicking about?”

Steve glares at you.

“You wanted to help,” you shrug as you get up again, making your way out of the room again to get the bag with Francine’s stuff. “You gotta learn how to change diapers, Harrington!”

Steve huffs nervously, “no big deal right?” He whispers to Francine.

“Da da da.”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “right.”

You come back into the room, and put the bag on the ground, picking out new diapers, wet wipes, baby powder and the spare onesie, along with the thin baby towel that you spread out on your mattress.

“Alright, Lego head,” you raise your eyebrows at him, “do you wanna practice for your future nuggets or are you scared of baby poop?”

He snorts, shaking his head at you.

“No, I’m not scared of baby poop.”

You walk over to them both and lean down before him, you pick Francine up, and scrunch your face up, “yeah, you really need a diaper change, angel.”

Steve watches as you carry her over to the other side, placing her down on the towel you spread out. You undo the buttons of her onesie, smiling at the little girl.

“Well, come on,” you giggle at him, “it’s an experience you gotta make, Steve.”

Steve takes a deep breath, he throws the pillow off his lap and removes the cover. He gets up from the bed, standing there in his boxers for a moment, until his eyes find the sweatpants he discarded last night, he quickly throws them on, along with the shirt you wore earlier.

“Alright,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, he walks up beside you, “just tell me what to do.”

You chuckle at his nervousness, you place your hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, if Max was able to do it, you can do it too.”

A breathy laugh falls from his lips.

You guide him, giving him a little step by step of what to do.

You watch the way his brows knit together, and the way he is nodding to himself as he follows your words.

He doesn’t even look disgusted when the smell hits him, he only chuckles at the way Francine continues babbling happily.

“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?”

You nod, smiling down at your niece, “yes she is.”

You hand him the new diapers and the baby powder, before you put the used wipes into the dirty diaper, roll it up carefully and throw it into the trash in your bathroom before you return to your room.

“How old is she?”

“She’s gonna be three months old tomorrow,” you say, smiling as you step up beside him again.

Steve raises his eyebrows at Francine, “oh, you’re gonna be a big girl tomorrow?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, making her laugh.

The smile on your face widens, the feeling in your chest growing stronger and brighter.

Her small giggles, and the fond smile that rests in his tired features spark something deep inside of you, a warming and comforting feeling appears as you watch him take care of her with careful and slow movements.

“Is that okay?” He asks you, gesturing to the diapers he put on her, “or is it too tight?”

You lean closer to him and check the pressure, “no, that’s perfect, Steve.”

“It is?” He asks, surprised.

You nod, and start to put her onesie back on, “yeah, I don’t even know what you panicked about, you’ve done a better job than me, I didn’t know what I was doing the first time,” you laugh. “You did good, Lego head.”

A dimpled grin appears on his face, despite the redness in his cheeks.

“I-I think caring for a bunch of kids that turned into teens turned me into a natural, even babies. I mean, Dustin counts as a baby, doesn’t he?” He jokes, watching the way your eyes crinkle and your lips spread before you burst into giggles.

Francine watches you with big eyes before she copies your giggles like before.

Steve’s eyes light up, as he watches you both.

The warmth in his chest spreads, as happiness rises up in him.

After adjusting her clothes and the bow on her head, you pick her up into your arms, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

You don’t even notice just how soft the look in his eyes, how the ghost of a smile now lingers on his lips, as he stares at the both of you in awe, watching the way Francine buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you keep a gentle hand on the back of her head.

“Do you want some breakfast? I can make you something after I give this princess her bottle, I think she’s getting tired again.”

Steve’s heart thumps strongly in his chest, he can’t deny the emotions of adoration in him as he looks at you with the baby on your arm.

“I can make you a breakfast sandwich or anything else you want.”

Steve blinks.

“Uh, you don’t have to make anything for me, Blondie. I can make you something though.”

You shake your head, “no, you’re my guest, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can feed her if you want.”

“Okay,” he says with a sigh, nodding his head, “I’ll make you lunch or dinner though.”

“Oh, are you gonna woo me with your cooking skills now?” You giggle.

He looks down with a smile, “I promised I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

Francine clasps her fingers around your hair again, pulling it stronger than before, making you wince a little.

“Okay, okay, someone’s getting a little grumpy now. I’m gonna go make her the bottle.”

“I’ll be right there with you, I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick,” Steve gestures to your bathroom, “do you need me to carry the bag down?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not heavy,” you say as you step towards him, “but can you help me put it on my shoulder?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He grabs the bag and steps towards you, putting the strap around your shoulder. His eyes soften yet again, when he sees you looking down at your niece, smiling as she blinks at you with her big eyes.

Steve doesn’t even notice that his hand still lingers on your shoulder, or that he’s rubbing your back, he is too in awe of the two of you, and that feeling stays with him, even when you leave the room and go downstairs, even when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, and he can’t even unsee the happiness and the relaxation in his features, but he decides to pay no mind to it.

When he joins you downstairs, he finds you in the kitchen, finishing up on Francine’s bottle, you’re shaking it, while whispering something to her as you’re still holding her in your arm, still.

Steve doesn’t know what it is, but the sight before him, makes him freeze in his spot.

As you stand there in your kitchen, with a smile on your lips, and a look of adoration in your eyes, you’re cooing at your niece, giggling every time she babbles something at you, he realizes something.

You are comfortable, right now.

You’re in your home, away from the eyes of strangers, hidden from the world that you have only shown one side of yourself to, your walls are down, you are just yourself, and there is no shame behind your eyes, because all your attention goes to someone you adore and love, and don’t feel the need to hide from.

Your eyes shine brightly, your features are relaxed in a way they have never been before, and your smile is so genuine, so real.

You’re talking to her with a small and gentle voice, you hold her tightly against your chest – and you… god you look so beautiful like this.

You look so beautiful with a baby in your arms.

Warmth spreads across his whole body, he likes the sight in front of him, he likes it so much that it should scare him, but it doesn’t.

“There he is, Francis,” you smile, glancing at Steve, you don’t even notice how frozen in place he is, how heaven struck he looks, “are you ready to give her the bottle?”

Steve blinks, snapping out of his mind, he nods at you with a blush on his cheeks.

You brush past him, and gesture for him to follow you into the living room, after you grab the cloth from the counter.

You place the bottle on the coffee table, and wait for him to take a seat on the couch.

“Alright, you gotta tell me what to do,” Steve says nervously, as he sits down, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t be nervous, you got this,” you assure him.

You step between his legs, and lean down to place Francine into his arms.

Without needing to be told, he cradles the back of her head, as he gently pulls her into his arms, a smile spreading on his lips when her big eyes look into his.

“Okay,” you whisper and put the cloth under her chin, adjusting it over her clothes in case a little accident might happen.

“Am I holding her correctly?” Steve asks, looking up at you.

The side of her face is nuzzled into his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his arm. You didn’t even need to guide him, he truly is a natural.

“Yeah,” you smile, “you’re doing great.”

You hand him the bottle, and sit down beside him.

“Did you test the temperature?” Steve asks, and you almost want to laugh at his question.

“Yeah Steve, I did.”

He nods at you.

With a chuckle, you pull your feet up onto the sofa and sit on your knees, turning your body towards them.

“Okay, now gently place the teat into her mouth and slowly tilt the bottle, she will do the rest.”

He furrows his brows, poking his tongue through his lips, he focuses on your niece as he follows your words.

You watch him closely, how soft and concentrated his eyes are, how careful his movements are, how small she looks in his arms, how sweet the sight of them is.

Francine raises her little arm, and places her tiny hand on the bottle as she starts sucking on the teat, small noises falling from her.

“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, the biggest smile you have ever seen, now glowing in his features as he looks at her in awe, “she’s the cutest little bean.”

“Yeah, she is,” you smile and tilt your head as you watch them, the fluttering feeling in your chest sparking.

Her eyelashes flutter, her big eyes still staring into his.

“I’m gonna cry, Blondie,” Steve murmurs, adoring the little human in his arms. “She's so tiny and adorable.”

You move closer and reach for the corner of the cloth, wiping away the bit of milk that rolls down her chin.

“You’re gonna have one of those someday too.”

Steve smiles at your words, nodding as he whispers “hopefully.”

But he doesn’t notice the way your own smile falls, the way your eyes sadden for a moment, the way you look down and blink away the feelings you don’t want him to see. And he doesn’t realize how quiet you get, he is too distracted by Francine and the thoughts in his head, the pictures of a future he longs for so badly.

Only when the bottle is empty and he removes it, does he turn back to you, but still too blinded by his mind to see the look in your eyes. You take the bottle from his hand, and place it back on the coffee table.

“You gotta hold her against your chest now,” you tell him and remove the cloth from her body, you place it on his chest instead, “and gently pat her back so she can burp.”

You guide him again, helping him hold her correctly as he places her against his chest, he puts his hand on her back, and starts patting gently.

“Is that good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, you reach for her tiny hand, caressing it as you watch her with a smile on your face, “she’s tired.”

“Yeah, pooping must’ve been really exhausting,” Steve jokes, making you giggle.

“Yeah, totally–”

A loud burp falls from her mouth.

“Oh that was a big one,” Steve chuckles as he stops patting her, “you did good, bug.”

“She didn’t even spit, she usually does a little, wow you really do have magical hands,” you chuckle, and remove the cloth from his shoulder.

“Told you, I’m a natural,” he smiles proudly.

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Do you want me to take her now?” You ask.

He shakes his head at you, “can I hold her for a while?”

Confusion flashes in your eyes. You know how badly he needs his coffee in the mornings, it’s one of the first things he does after he wakes up, going into the kitchen to brew his beloved morning coffee. He didn’t even take a single sip yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he is too in awe of the baby on his chest.

Realization replaces the look in your eyes – he is entering a baby fever trance, with your niece nonetheless. It makes your smile reappear, that’s how you feel too, every time you get to spend time with her.

“Of course,” you whisper, as your gaze softens.

Francine’s eyelashes flutter, her blinking getting slower and lesser.

“She’s gonna pass out though, you should sit back a little so she can lay on you.”

He nods at your words, placing one hand on her back and the other under her bum, he lays back slowly, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees her already falling asleep. She scrunches up her nose as she nuzzles her face into his chest, making you both laugh when she suddenly throws her hand up, managing to catch onto a strand of his hair.

She wiggles around for a moment, before her eyes start falling shut.

“And she’s out,” Steve whispers, chuckling to himself. “I wish I could fall asleep this fast.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Her cheek is squished against him, she’s breathing softly now, her hand falling from his hair and onto his shoulder, her little headband beginning to slip off.

You reach out to take it off her head slowly, and lean in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, unaware of the fond smile on Steve’s lips, or the feelings that rush through him because of you.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast now,” you mumble as you pull away, and get up from the couch, grabbing the bottle and the cloth.

Steve’s eyes follow you as you walk over to the TV stand, and grab the remote, handing it to him, “you can watch something if you want, it won’t disturb her, she’s a heavy sleeper.”

“I’m good, I’ll watch her for now,” he whispers.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you say, and give him a smile before you leave the room.

A genuine smile.

You smiled at him before, countless of times actually, but he could never tell what was real and what wasn’t, what was genuine and what was forced or just sarcastic. But this, this was a real smile, and there was no second meaning behind it. You just smiled at him, naturally. It makes him feel… happy, and as he looks down at the little girl that has your features, he realizes something.

The feeling in his chest was never for nothing, it was never false or misleading.

It was just as real as the smile you blessed him with.

Suddenly, everything before him doesn't seem as dull and colorless as it did all these past months and even years, something sparks before his eyes and he can see again, he can feel something besides the never ending gnawing in his chest and the restlessness in his bones, the fears that nestled deep into his soul. He finally sees something other than the darkened clouds and the red lights that keep flashing before his eyes.

A light that keeps peeking through every once in a while is on the verge of breaking through, making the walls around him rattle as the foundation starts to crumble, one brick at a time starts falling into an abyss.

A future lays before his eyes, calling out to him and waiting to be grasped, an echo, a whisper, a glimpse of what could be if things were only different.

For the rest of the day, Steve feels as though he had fallen into a pleasant dream, a world where it’s only you and him, a little girl that made him realize just how badly he wants to have a family of his own – he already knew that he wanted it, but he pictured the wrong person by his side, a person he no longer even wanted.

He was blinded by old feelings, and the wish to have something real again, when it never even was to begin with.

The feelings that are sparking in him now, feel so different from anything that he had ever felt before, and he only opens his eyes to them more and more as the day passes, and he sees a side of you that he had never seen before.

He sees with how much love and gentleness you treat your niece, he sees the way your eyes hold nothing but adoration for the girl that you would do anything for.

He hears how soft your voice can get.

He feels how soft your touch can be when you once again hand her to him.

And his heart beats so strongly, so fastly in his chest when a giggle falls from your lips after Francine pouts when you take her away from him again, only to be forced to place her back into his arms when she almost starts crying.

Steve adores her, and he adores you – a little more as every second of this day passes.

The thing that pushes him nearer towards the finish line of realization, is this very moment in front of him.

Your niece fell asleep on his chest yet again, you are sitting right next to him, with your head on his shoulder and your eyes glued on her, your finger tracing her little features. The urge to pull you closer and hold you feels so strong to the point that his fingers start itching.

“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner for you,” he whispers.

You look at him through your lashes, the corner of your lip twitching as your eyes flicker to his lips for a brief moment.

The only light in the room now coming from the TV, the volume set on the lowest. The rain is still falling, even as the night nears.

“It’s okay, Francis didn’t let you,” you giggle softly, not knowing that the sound makes his heart flutter. “Besides, the pizza was really good.”

“Yeah, it was,” he whispers.

He notices how tired you look, how the sleepiness is beginning to set into your features now too.

“Look at her tiny nose,” you whisper as you look back at her, “and those little hands.”

Something in the way you hold her hand and whisper so adoringly about her, makes him long for you even more – but not in a way he had felt before, no, this is different, this is so very serious.

Steve lifts his arm as a blush creeps up to his cheeks, he wraps his arm around you, and pulls you closer, “come here,” he whispers into your hair, “there’s space for two Blondies on my chest.”

He doesn’t know what kind of emotions he can trigger in you, with such simple words.

He doesn’t know that you have been dying to feel this.

You lay your head on his chest, and he can’t help but smile at the sigh that falls from your lips. You put your arm around Francine, and snuggle against him, and you stay like that, for a while at least, until Steve allows his feelings to take the lead.

He adjusts the blanket over Francine before he pulls you even closer, and he buries his fingers in your hair, allowing himself to play with it like he only ever does when you’re fast asleep and unaware of his soft touches or the glances that fall upon your skin.

He would feel joy if he knew about the emotions that linger inside of you.

“You will be an amazing dad to your little nuggets someday, Steve,” you say in a whisper, it’s almost too quiet for him to hear, “and a good husband too.”

The shakiness in your voice and the sadness goes by unnoticed by him, he is too stunned by your words.

If he could see inside your head, he would know how much sadness there is, how the dark clouds always reside, how you don’t see a future for yourself because you know that he won’t be in it, and without him, what will you have? What will you be? A wilting rose, left behind to die. You are barely holding on now, but you are still here, because he is still keeping you alive. Your life is in his hands.

Steve takes a deep breath, he opens his mouth to whisper to you, only to see you fast asleep now too, your cheek squished against his chest just like Francine’s is.

He breathes out, lips curling into a smile as he stops playing with your hair.

“You will be amazing too, Blondie,” he whispers.

A girlfriend. A wife. A mother.

Whatever you choose to be, whoever you will bless with your love, they are going to be so lucky to have you.

And before he can even realize where his thoughts are taking him, a frown nestles into his features. The thought that he will become a memory to you, makes him feel uneasy. The thought that someone will step into your life, and take away what you both have, fills him with gray-ish sadness once again. The image of someone putting a ring on your finger and getting to be the one to lift the veil and kiss you on the altar openly, in front of everybody, and without needing to hide, spreads the darkness in him, yet again.

He looks down at you, at the way you look so comfortable in his embrace, while your soft hand stays on the girl’s back, he admires you, and he feels no shame to do so, not even when he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face.

But his time with you is cut short when the front door unlocks and opens, and footsteps echo in the hallway, a moment later.

He turns his face away from you, when your sister steps into the living room, freezing in her steps when she sees him.

Steve swallows the lump in his throat, giving her a tight lipped smile, he raises his hand to wave at her, “hi…”

She furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of you three, her lips pulling into a confused smile. She takes her denim jacket off and walks further into the room, her lips curling into a big smile when she takes a look at her girl.

But then her eyes fall back on him, and suddenly, her lips part in surprise.

“Hi…Oh– you, hang on,” she mumbles, tilting her head before her eyes widen, “Steve Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t know what to think of the look on her face, or the stunned tone in her voice.

He met her before, at the hospital when she came to visit you, but he didn’t talk to her, and her reaction makes him wonder if you have mentioned him before.

“Yeah… that’s uh… that’s me.”

The silence that follows is almost too loud, he can see the way she looks between you both, back and forth, as her brows stay furrowed.

She points a finger between you both, “so uh… you’re her boyfriend?”

Steve hesitates, and he glances down at you, bitterness lays on his tongue when he utters the next words, “uh… no… no, I’m not.” Sadly, he thinks.

And when he registers the words that popped into his head out of nowhere, he suddenly wants nothing more than to escape this situation, fearing his own feelings again.

“I-I should go now.”

“Oh, you’re not staying another night?” She asks, a somewhat smug tone in her voice as she looks at you.

He would love to, but it’s better to go now. It’s not safe to stay, not for his heart.

“No, I have to work tomorrow.”

“Ah,” she nods and walks over to the three of you, “I’ll take her now,” she whispers, and carefully picks her daughter up. The little girl stirs in her sleep, grunting quietly but not opening her eyes just yet.

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Steve chuckles as he watches the way Francine relaxes into her mother’s arms.

“She really is,” your sister laughs, and walks over to the armchair, taking a seat before she looks back up at Steve, “kind of like Daisy when she’s relaxed,” she nudges her chin towards you.

A smile appears on his face, and he looks down at you, his arm is still wrapped around you, and he already dreads the feeling of having to let you go.

“Yeah,” he whispers, taking a long look at you, before he decides to get up.

A sigh leaves his lips, and he slowly slips away from you, replacing his chest with a pillow for your head, his eyes soften when you scrunch your nose up just the way your niece did earlier. He adjusts the blanket over you, fighting the urge to leave a kiss on your forehead before he steps away.

Your sister eyes him closely, watching how he treats you with so much care.

When Steve steps away, and looks away from you, glancing at your sister, heat rushes to his cheeks when he sees the way she looks between you both, a smug look lingering in her eyes, a small but teasing smile on her face.

He wants to run.

“Okay uh,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck before he points his finger at the hallway, “I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” she nods, “thanks for helping with Francine.”

He waves his hand, a smile now reappearing on his face as he looks at the baby girl, already missing the feeling of holding her.

“No need to thank me, I loved spending time with these two,” he chuckles, pointing between you and your niece. “But uh, I’m gonna head out.”

“Alright,” she smiles at him.

He takes one last look at you before he turns around and makes his way out of the living room, he puts his Nike’s on, and grabs the car keys he threw on the counter, last night.

“Bye, Twinkie.”

“Bye…” She mumbles with furrowed brows, confused at the name he just called her by.

The front door shuts quietly, yet loud enough to wake you up. With a flinch, you open your eyes, and look around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You look to your side, the empty spot beside you, making you frown.

“Your boyfriend left,” your sister's voice sounds through the room.

You turn to her, finding her in the armchair she always loved so much. A smug look is resting on her lips.

“Shut up,” you mumble, glaring at her.

She laughs at you, and leans back, getting comfortable in her seat.

“Spill. Now.”

The hot water rolls down Steve’s skin, the smell of shampoo surrounds him as he washes his hair.

His eyes are closed, but a smile rests on his lips, as images of all the things that happened today replay in his mind.

The fluttering in his chest hasn’t stopped at all, everything you did, everything you said, every single touch of yours has seemingly turned him into a hopeless teenager again – only, he isn’t one anymore, and the feelings inside of him, go much deeper than the ones of a seventeen year old boy.

And no matter how much he tries to deny them, he just can’t, because it becomes less and less possible to pretend that they aren’t there.

Today, they shined through so brightly, when he saw how soft and gentle you could be, when he saw the sides of you that you never wanted to show. He saw something he never thought was even there. And it causes awful feelings to rise up in him, when he comes to the realization that all these years, you were only protecting yourself from the hurt in this world, and you did so by putting up a front and giving people the wrong pictures of yourself.

You were mean and rough to those you didn’t trust, and he was one of them, maybe he still is, but he saw you today.

When you greeted him this morning, with your niece in your arms.

When you kissed her little forehead, and held her in your sweet embrace.

When you taught him to bottle feed her.

When you admired her with him, and traced her little features with your finger and a loving smile on your face.

When you told him how great of a husband he would be someday, and an amazing dad to his nuggets.

Wait… you said nuggets, plural. He never told you he wanted kids, so how did you know? How did you even know he would love to call his children that particular word? Was it intuition? Was it a coincidence?

His eyebrows knit together with complete and utter confusion as the water just keeps running over his head, and the realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

The RV. His conversation with Nancy. Him telling Nancy he wants to be someone’s husband and have six nuggets. Him pouring his desires out, thinking that everyone else in the vehicle was sound asleep.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, you weren’t asleep. You heard him. You heard him talking to Nancy, and you– you think that he wants those things with her still. He should clarify it, shouldn’t he? He wants to tell you that it was the dread of the world ending talking for him. He wants to explain himself to you–

Explain himself? Why? You probably wouldn’t care who he has kids with, or who he marries. You would simply give him a thumbs up and a confused look on your face. But– He feels his stomach contracting with nerves, nerves he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you. He doesn’t need to clarify anything.

But, he doesn’t want you to think he wants that family with Nancy Wheeler.

He really doesn’t.

And he is terrified that he doesn’t want you to misunderstand.

Absolutely fucking terrified.

And then, the realization, the surprise and the nerves turn into absolute guilt. He had also said a few things about you. Nancy told him that it’s sad you had to be included this way into the party, into their problems, but that you looked strong and determined after going into the upside down just one time.

And he replied with how much he desired you wouldn’t have gotten involved at all. It sounded harsh, it sounded vile and venomous… And it was intended that way, or at least that’s what he thought.

Now, he realizes that he didn’t want you involved so you wouldn’t go through danger, but you did, you went through so much pain and suffering. Nancy was right, you were strong, and you didn’t second guess your actions when it meant saving someone.

“Shit–” He jumped a bit when he felt the water turn cold, not realizing for how long he had been in his head, thinking, running through his thoughts and memories. He turned the water off and shook his head to get the excess of it out of his hair.

He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel, a white one that had the smudge of a lipstick stain that never got off. Your lipstick.

And just that mere stain made his heart jump and miss one beat, two beats, maybe three. Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He really wants you to know he doesn’t mean what he said in the RV.

To both of those things.

Especially the one about Nancy.

“Fuck me.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @maroon-cardigan @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @ibellcipem @corrodedcorpses @agirlwholovesrockstars

#dwoht -- chapter fourteen #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington series #stranger things angst

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codtrashsammy · 1 day

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Cute Meet?

Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))

Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.

Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-”

What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not. And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.

Simon was enchanted at first glance.

Ghost decides he could be, too.

A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.

Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.

“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.

“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.

He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?

After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.

“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.

Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.

But they both decide you’re theirs.

#simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

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alotofpockets · 1 day

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The set up | Alessia Russo x Reader

Where your best friend Gio sets you up with his sister.

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

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“Come on, just let me set you up with one more girl.” Your best friend begged, making you roll your eyes. He loved trying to set you up, but nothing ever really came from it. “Like your other set ups worked so well.”

“Please, just one more before I head off to Bali. I can’t leave you here all on your own.” Oh he could be so annoying. “I have friends besides you Gio, you know that right?" You give him a friendly shove.

“Y/n, she’s totally your type. Just give me one more chance.” You knew when he was putting up his best puppy eyes, that you weren’t going to be able to say no. “Fine, but it will be your going away present, so don’t expect anything else.”

You checked your phone one more time to check if you had gotten the right restaurant, a reservation for two under the name Russo he had said. Why he had used his name instead of yours was a mystery to you, but that mystery quickly unravelled when you saw the girl that was sitting at the table the waiter was leading you to.

“Lessi?” The girl looked up with confusion written all over your face, just like yourself. “Hey y/n/n, what are you doing here?”

“Well, apparently Gio tried setting me up with you.” Alessia chuckled, “Of course he did.” You hesitate for a moment, which Alessia seems to notice. “Sit, this place has amazing food. Plus Gio is paying for the whole thing.” Now it was your turn to laugh. “How did you manage that?”

You settle into your seat while Alessia tells you how she convinced her brother to pay for the whole date. Alessia was right, the menu had some great choices, as you looked through them you wondered why Gio would set you up with his sister, was this one of his jokes, or was he serious about this?

"So, how have you been?" Alessia asks, breaking the brief silence. "I feel like it's been ages since we caught up properly." You had met Gio back in college, and had known his whole family for ages.

“It really has been a while, hasn’t it? I’m doing well. I got promoted at work which prompted my move to London, they offered me a managing position at their location here. I’ve been getting used to the changes, home and work wise, but overall I’m really happy with the change. How have you been? Has Arsenal been treating you well?” Now that you think of it, you hadn’t been to one of her matches since made the move to Arsenal. You often joined Gio and the Russo family on seeing Alessia play for either club or country, having watched her grow from a college athlete to this phenomenal professional player.

Alessia tells you all about her move to London and her time at Arsenal so far over the pizza’s that you both ordered. It had actually been really nice hanging out with the girl one on one, something you hadn’t done all too often.

When both your plates are empty, you don’t want to leave yet but you know you’ll have to say goodnight because you have work in the morning. “This was really nice Less, would you want to do it again some time?” You didn’t know how the blonde was looking at this set up as an actual date, or just as friends catching up, but as the evening came to an end you realised just how much you had enjoyed her company, and how much you would like to go out with her again.

“I had a great time, and I would love to do it again sometime, it’s a date.” Your heart warmed at the words ‘it’s a date’, glad to hear that she was feeling the same way. “Do you want to mess with Gio a bit?” She suggested, and she told you her plan after you agreed.

You step into Gio’s apartment without an invitation to come in, or saying hello. “Your sister? You set me up with your sister?” You tried your hardest not to smile. His eyes widened, “I really thought you guys would hit it off, and if not it would just be funny.” You shake your head and walk out of the door again. As you get in your car you quickly send Alessia a text.

Y/n: Part one of the plan has been executed :)

The next day you eagerly await Alessia’s text, after lunch your phone finally buzzes with a message from her.

Alessia: Part two is in motion!

You smile at the message, imagining what Alessia has cooked up, as she was clearly enjoying pranking her brother as much as you were.

The plan was to make Gio believe he messed up with setting the two of you up, while actually you already had your second date planned.

The second date was even better than the first one, instead of sitting down at a restaurant you went to an arcade. When you headed in the bustling arcade filled your ears, as Alessia led you right to the first game. “Ready to get crushed?” A sparkle behind her eyes told you enough about how tonight was going to go. “Bring it on.” You said back with determination.

You smirk as you get ball after ball in the basket, Alessia was doing well too, but your points were definitely going up quicker. When the timer ends, you have almost double the points she has. Alessia looks over in disbelief. “Less, how did your brother and I get to know each other?” She thinks for a moment before it finally dawns on her, you were both on the basketball team in college. “Okay, so that game doesn’t count because there was an unfair advantage. Let’s move on.”

She takes your hand and drags you to a new game, where the both of you are just as competitive. The wins were divided more now, her being better at some games, and you better at others. All in all, you had a great time.

At the end of the night she invited you to come see her play on Sunday, an offer you gladly accepted. It had really been too long since you had seen her play, and you were interested to see how her playing style had changed since she joined the new club.

She walked you to your front door, “You’ll be at the airport tomorrow as well right?” You nod, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world” Gio was leaving for Bali tomorrow, and his family and a couple of his closest friends were coming to wave him off. Since you had stormed out of his apartment, the two of you were good again, but he still had no idea that you and Alessia had started dating.

Before she turns around to get to her car, she leans in and pecks your lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You kiss her again, wanting her with you a little longer. “Goodnight Less, text me when you get home?” With a nod and another quick kiss, you watch her drive off.

The next day you meet the Russo family at the airport. No one wanted to say goodbye, but you knew you had to since Gio had a plane to catch so you stepped up first. You give him a big hug, “I’m going to miss you, Gio. Have an amazing trip, and send me all the updates please.”

Gio noticed the two of you embracing, and started smirking instantly. He walked up to the two of you. “I knew it!” You rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah yeah, you finally set me up with a good one.” He hugged the both of you. “I’m very happy for you both. Take care of each other while I’m away?” With a promise that you would, he went off to board his plane.

After you, more of Gio’s friends went ahead and said their goodbye’s, and last but not least, his family did as well. Alessia stepped back from saying bye with teary eyes, the goodbye being emotional for the family. She walked right towards you, and you wrapped your arms around her in comfort, no longer caring about the little plan you had made.

Carol walked up to the two of you, “Want to join us for dinner tonight, sweetheart?” You looked over to Alessia to make sure she was okay with you saying yes to her mom. When she agreed with a nod and a smile, you told Carol you would love to.

When Gio landed you were still at the Russo’s, and you Gio had added you all to a group chat called ‘Bali updates for the fam’, you smiled at the way he included you with his family, as the five of you watched his video showing you all the hotel room he would spend the first night.

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#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x y/n #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc #arsenal wfc x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #lionesses x reader

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leclercings · 8 hours

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Adrenaline Rush | Lando Norris x Reader

Genre: Blurb

Pairing: Lando Norris x wife!Reader

A/N: another request! This is the first time I've written something about actually driving a car and the race. Apologies for any mistakes.

yourusername

tagged f1

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, and others

yourusername: It has been a tough journey, but worth it. Thank you to everyone who supported me. All those ups and downs- what a rollercoaster. Can't believe I have the honour of being the first female driver to win the World Championship, and I couldn't have done it without my family, my team, and most importantly, Lando, my sweetheart.

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landonorris: congratulations babe!

↳yourusername: I love you!

oscarpiastri: congratulations!

susie_wolff: well deserved!

racerbia: what an icon!!

“What the fuck was that?” You scream in the radio as you exit the pit lane.

Adrenaline surging high, twenty more laps to go. Yas Marina hasn't been your favourite circuit but it's the last one, and you're pushing towards the world championship.

You and Max have a difference of just a few points, and if you win today- you will be the first female driver who has won the world championship.

There's a lot of pressure.

You drop down to fifth in the grid, with your teammate, Charles ahead of you.

“Charles will make the way for you.” You hear on the radio as your overtake Charles.

Sitting in a F1 car, driving at the speed of 220mph, all you can hear is the sound of the engine over your own breath.

It's super hot. You can feel your body burning and sweat trickling down your face.

You push the car a little more to see Lando ahead of you.

“Two tenths of a second to catch up with Lando.”

“Copy.” You reply.

You're in the DRS zone of Turn 7. You push yourself as much as you can. Lando defends his position, but you're determined. With a few milliseconds you find yourself ahead of him.

“Good job, mate.” You hear on the radio.

You've climbed up to third. Ahead of you are Max and Checo.

“Checo will be pitting in this lap.”

“Copy.”

Checo goes in the pitlane and you climb up to the second place.

A few laps later, you see the yellow flag.

“Hope… everyone's okay…” You breathe heavily in the radio.

“Yes. Debris at Turn 13.”

Everyone slows down. You can see Max right in front of you. This is your chance.

A lap later, you can see the safety car moving.

The race is about to begin again.

You take a deep breath in, ready to push yourself to the maximum.

Green flag waves and you accelerate the car. Max is in front of you, defending really well.

You’re about to reach Turn 7, ready to overtake Max. You try to go into the left corner and he comes ahead, and then you push yourself a little more before overtaking him at the edge of the track.

You whisper a silent thank you.

“Well done, mate.”

Max tries to take his position back. But you stand firm.

You're defending really well so far. You focus on building up a race pace.

It's the last lap of the race.

You've been warned that Max is behind you, trying to overtake.

You push a little further, and you can almost see him coming to the right but you accelerate the car and within a few milliseconds you're ahead of him, just as the chequered flag waves.

“Congratulations!” You hear on the radio.

“Oh my god.” You scream.

You can hear cheers in the background.

You slow the car down.

You won.

You freaking won.

You see Max sliding up next to you, giving you a thumbs up. You respond back with a thumbs up.

You take the car towards the podium area where the Ferrari mechanics are waiting for you.

You park the car, getting out and standing up on it.

“Yes,” you shout loudly as you take your helmet off.

You see Max and Lando coming from behind.

You smile at Lando, before he runs towards you and kisses you.

You won. And your husband stands third.

“I love you, babe.” You tell him and he smiles at you.

You wave at the audience as you walk up the podium right next to your husband. There are cheers. Everybody is super proud.

You're the World Champion for 2023- an inspiration for every girl out there. People like you set an example that dreams can be achieved, so don't be afraid to dream big.

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 day

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Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 7

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2k words | warnings: mentions of trauma | masterlist

Your neck is aching when you throw it back and release a loud groan. Your eyes are already burning from staring into books the whole day. Outside Velaris has already entered the night – many hours ago–, but you are still sitting here, your back sore from being bent over the books for hours.

The orange candle on the table, the only light source in the living room of the house of wind at this point, has almost burnt down to nothing, but you need it just a few more minutes.

You are so close, you know it. The solution is right there, you just need to grasp it.

Reaching forward, you place your hand on the onyx box, sharp nails piercing into it. With the index finger of your other hand you trail over some ancient spells written in lettering that is now longer used. The spells are most likely witches runes, you are not familiar with them, but with the help of Nesta and maybe also Amren, you will be able to open the box.

You can feel it. You can feel how the small casket reacts to your touch, to the idea of being opened. It is burning with emotion, so hot your palm heats.

You are so close – so close to opening this damn box. And so close to freedom. You will be allowed to roam freely when this is over, no one will ever lock you away again. Once the box is open you will demand your amulet back. With it your powers will return and then you are gone. To the continent or wherever the wind takes you.

Gone…involuntarily your thoughts wander to the shadowsinger. He is also gone. Has been gone for a few days now. Gone just like back then. When he left you behind, broken and bloody. He did not even check to see if you are alright. If your wounds are too deep. If you will survive.

Rhysand’s words hollow in your mind, loud, strong, and you force your eyes closed, fighting against the tears.

“My father…he threatened the other female in Azriel’s life. The only other female he would have given his life for. This was the only way to protect you both.”

All those years, you have wondered what Azriel’s reasons were. Why he betrayed you like this. Why he never came to see you. You don’t know if you will ever be able to forgive him, but what you know is that you want to give him another chance to talk. You want to hear it from him. Everything. Every little thing he has to say. You want him to talk about his mother, about how he locked you in the Prison, the moments after it, the moment when he found out what the Harp was capable of. He owes you all the explanations and you owe him your time to listen.

You shake your head, directing every thought that threatens to stray into Azriel’s direction at matter at hand again – Koschei’s onyx box. You need to open it and you are so close. You flip over to the next page, finding more cryptic lettering. Your eyes are closed when your fingers trail over the words, the runes, the pictures and you feel it. This is it.

Jumping up, the chair scratches over the ground with a loud noise. You need to find Nesta, and you need to find her now. You really hope she is not currently otherwise occupied with a certain general of the Illyrian armies because you really need to talk to her.

Blowing out the candle, you turn swiftly and head for the corridor, running as fast as your feet can take you, your thin, silken gown swishing around your legs. You head up the stairs, towards Nesta and Cassian’s main bedroom, but stop dead in your tracks when your eyes land on him. When his moan of agony pierces through your mind.

The door to his bathroom is open, his bloody chest exposed, large wings draped on the ground, his hands braced on the edges of the sink.

You can’t tear your eyes away and fully on your own accord your feet start to walk, no longer moving you towards Nesta’s room, but to him. You can’t stop yourself, it is like something is pulling you to him. And you know what it is – the tug on your chest. Before his betrayal you had loved the idea of it. Then everything came crashing down, and you hated it. You have been clamping down on the feeling of it for centuries, pushing it away, but now seeing him bloody and wounded –seeing your mate bloody and wounded– fire ignites deep within your soul, the bond once more coming alive inside of you.

“Azriel.” Your voice trembles, heart squeezing at the gaping wounds marring his entire torso, dripping with blood and puss. It looks awful and painful. Your fingers curl towards your palms.

He whips his head into your direction, and with a crooked smile, he says, “It isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Bullshit,” you answer and step into the bathroom. “You look like you have been attacked by a beast, those wounds are deep. You need a healer to look over them.” When your eyes lifts, they clash with his.

“Don’t act like you care,” he mumbles, holding your gaze.

“You have no right to snap at me, Azriel,” you answer in a stern voice, “not after everything that has happened between us, not after everything you did to me.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know.” You close the door behind you and fully move into the room, reaching for the cloth on the sink that is no longer white, but has no a pinkish colour, stained from all the blood. You clasp it tightly in your hand, and without saying a word, attach the cloth to Azriel’s wounded skin. He sucks in a sharp intake of air, then holds his breath and lets you do your work. “I am ready to talk, Azriel.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his fingers curl around the edge of the sink, scarred knuckles turning white. “I needed time, I needed time to adapt, to understand, to progress, but I am ready to talk now.” You tip your head back and meet his hazel eyes, a flicker of hope within them now that you revealed that you are ready to talk to him.

“Rhysand told me about your mother.”

“His father threatened to execute her. I needed to protect her, but I need you to know that I didn’t choose her over you. I was…torn. I only had a few people in my life that I loved, and risking one’s life for that of another…I only tried to–”

“Keep us both safe. I know this now.” Your hand moves lower, brushing over a wound on his lower belly that disappears behind the pants of his Illyrian leathers.

“I was trying to get you out. I was looking for ways once all threats were gone, but…only when we found the Harp I had a solution on how to do it. I knew how I was going to get you.”

You nod slowly, and put the cloth aside. “Let’s patch you up and then we talk properly, yes?”

It is a big step you are taking, but you know you have to do it. You finally have to talk to him. Your heart is racing both with panic about being so close to the person that has hurt you most in your life, but also with relief that you can finally be near him without feeling like the air to breathe has been stolen from you. He still unnerves you, but now that you have learned more about why he acted like this, talking to him seems easier.

You have to talk to him. For yourself. You need to know everything. Find out what really were his reasons.

“In my room?” Azriel asks in a calm voice.

You nod again and set out to do exactly what you said – patching him up.

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“He showed me what he would do to her. All the cruel things. And all the cruel things he would do to you. He invaded my mind and showed it to me.”

You find yourself nodding again, tears lining your eyes. You sit next to him on the bed, Azriel’s head resting on the pillow, close to your hips, his chest now bandaged, his body covered by the thin bed sheet. “I had no choice.”

You want to tell him that everyone always has a choice, but in this case, this was truly the only way to do it. You have been listening to him for the past hour or even longer, soft moonlight filtering in through the curtain-framed windows. It is the only lightsource, but you don’t need more. You close your eyes, your soul for the first time calm and at ease in his presence. Azriel has been talking the whole time, a rarity you think, because centuries ago when you were together he was always rather calm.

“Did it really hurt you to put me in the Prison?”

You feel the bed shift next to you, and a moment later his scarred digits brush your hand. “What a question…” You can hear how he draws in a deep inhale and his hand closes tightly around yours. “It tore me apart. It felt like someone ripped out my heart, and tore it into pieces. Like my soul lost its life, like it was diminished and I could never ever feel happiness again. All the years, the centuries that passed, where I couldn’t free you, destroyed more parts of my soul.”

You slide down on the pillow, not letting go of his hand, until you are on eye-level with him. His head is turned to you, and he is already looking at you when you open your lids.

“I knew the first moment I could find a way to free you, to get you out, I would do it. You were bound to the Prison by the High Lord’s magic, you couldn’t get out alone, not even if I had tried to. It was only possible through the Harp – the Dead Trove’s magic is stronger than any High Lord’s.”

You deep your chin, nodding slowly, the back of your mouth aching. “I thought you hated me, you loathed and feared me just like everyone else. That our whole relationship was a false-pretence.”

His throat bobs. “I didn’t fake a single thing – every I love you, every kiss, every hug, whenever we made love, I meant it all. And I meant when I said that I would protect you…I never meant to hurt you. To destroy you.”

You shift closer on the bed. “Do you know why your soul hurt after you put me into the Prison?”

“Because I lost the love of my life.” He pushes up on his elbows, groaning due to the wounds on his chest that have not yet healed. He shifts onto his side, now looking directly at you, but you shake your head.

“No, Azriel,” you say, “your soul hurt because we were mates and the bond broke the moment you closed the gates to my cell.”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azrielsmate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel

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merbear25 · 2 days

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Reigniting an old flame (Mihawk)

Prompt 18 requested by @thesunxwentblack

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting this, especially with Mihawk! I had a blast, so I hope you enjoy what I've written for you 💜💜

CW: NSFW!! MDNI!! fem!reader, fluffy smut, established relationship, vaginal penetration, slightly rough sex

Sharing your life with someone never appeared to be in the cards for either of you. However, your paths intersected, giving you a chance at love. Understandably, neither of you held out hope for your relationship to survive the countless fire it'd undoubtedly be under, but it turned out that anything was possible.

Despite the shaky circumstances, your love was worth holding onto—such devotion was difficult to come by in this world. Wanting nothing more than your safety, Mihawk urged you to distance yourself from him, at least until he managed to get everything under control.

However, seeing how distraught you were by the whole ordeal made it seem as if this decision was the wrong one. Holding you closely, he reassured you that your love was meant to flourish. Handing you a small piece of paper, you noticed the address written on it—a type of safe haven for you to fly under the radar.

Pushing your heartbreak aside, thinking that this could be the final time you see each other, your trust in him remained unwavering. Tearfully agreeing to the conditions, you departed. Watching the life you'd just begun together become more distant, the serverity of reality was almost proving too much to bear.

With days turning into weeks and weeks into months, gnawing dread that something had happened ate away at you until a piece of mail appeared: one holding neither a return address nor signature, yet an abundance of clues. The envelope contained postcards with nothing written on them but a note about the supposed journey that alluded to the true origins of post. Trusting your gut, you answered, sending it to a place that was starting to feel more and more like a shot in the dark.

Only when another arrived, were your doubts set to rest. With the illusion of secrecy kept, it was obvious to the both of you that your adoration new no bounds. In spite of the small glimmers of joy you'd get receiving and sending mail to each other, the extended period of doing so was weighing on you, leaving you wondering if you'd ever get the chance to hold each other again, to allow your love to flourish in the way it was supposed to.

With the last two years passing by in a haze, the next piece of mail sparked hope. Sifting through the hints, he gave you notice of his current whereabouts, extending an invitation. Elation of being reunited coarsed through you, your feet and the sails of the ships being unable to carry you as quickly as you needed.

Upon seeing him, there was no chance you'd hold yourself back from running into his arms. The feeling of him wrapping you up in an embrace—one which he'd be sure could never allow you to slip through—allowed your souls to meld together. Granting himself this moment of weakness, he swept you off your feet and carried you into your new home, peppering your sweet face with much deserved affection.

Placing you down on the bed, you had a silent understanding that everything else could wait, for now getting lost in the pits of your desire took priority.

As the fires of your passion increased with each searing kiss, your body arched with each touch, each grope, beckoning for him to ravish you. Trailing kisses down your neck, removed your delicates with ease. Pinning your legs back, your needy slit was on full display, which only whetted the appetite that'd gone without satisfaction for far too long.

Unleashing his arousal, he teased your pearl with its tip, sending waves of anticipation deep into your desperate walls. Easing himself into you, he reveled in the sensation your twitching form was so eager to give him.

Picking up the pace, he bucked in and out of you with a clear goal: letting the dry spell come to a crashing halt by surrendering yourselves to the uncharted depths of euphoria.

Your moans were growing more and more frantic, sounding off in the room like sweet melodies. The sight of you losing all sense of self on him made you even more irresistible. Leaning over you, your lip lock was feverish yet firm. As his length forced itself deeper, your groans at taking the full extent of his lust mixed with his.

Such thrills were building up to an explosive irruption, one which would quake the earth surrounding it. Fully letting go of any of the sorrow and uncertainty you once had, an earth shattering revilation freed you from those shackles.

Now with more clarity, the two of you could give yourselves entry into the other's life, no longer needing to hide.

Leaving you with a kiss on your forehead, he excused himself momentarily, giving you full reign of the bedroom.

Taking liberty to look around at the different knick knacks he had scattered about, a red velvet box caught your eye. Admiring the delicately crafted lining, you unclasped it. You were met with a stack of postcards and notes.

Holding each note up, you could barely make out that they were yours due to the tears flooding your eyes. Such tenderness that you never knew he was capable of sent your heart soaring.

When he reentered the room and caught you looking at his keepsake, he gently placed a hand on your lower back.

"You mean to tell me you've kept every single note?"

Cupping your face, he spoke with complete certainty, "A love like yours is meant to be cherished."

Being given the chance to fan the flames of your passion, letting it reach new hights was an opportunity you'd never take for granted. Wrapping your arms around him, you gave yourselves a few more moments to let those bright embers dance between you.

#follower event #x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #one piece imagine #op #mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece smut #op mihawk #op smut

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homestylehughes · 2 days

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boyfriend jamie headcanons

pairing(s): jamie drysdale x fem!reader

summary: headcanons of bf!jamie!

wc: 447

warnings: fluff!! cute and soft jamie, smut 18+

authors note: hiiii loves!! this is my first request!! so thank you so much for requesting! this is the first time i've ever written for jamie so hopefully i did an okay job!. i really enjoyed writing this!! my inbox is currently open for requests right now, so don't be scared to send anything in!!! like and reblog if you enjoy! as always much love <3

happy reading <3

sfw:

Bf!jamie: Jamie would be the type of boyfriend to always keep you warm, whenever you're cold. His body is like your personal heater. The second he sees your body shake or sees goosebumps on your arms, he's quick to pull you into this body, warming you instantly.

Bf!jamie: Jamie always plans the best dates, each date being better than the other. If it's a night out, or a night in jamie never fails to make you feel special!

Bf!jamie: You're convinced that Jamie is the best gift giver. His gifts are always so personal and heart felt. It's almost like he knows you better than yourself. Your favorite types of gifts from him are small handmade gifts that he makes for you randomly.

Bf!jamie: Jamie gets you flowers every single week, the fresh bouquet always on your counter or outside your door if he's on a road trip. It doesn't matter what type they are, they never fail to bring a smile to your face whenever you see them.

Bf!jamie: You love Jamie's sense of humor, he never fails to make you laugh even when you're having a bad day. You won't say it to him but he's kind of corny, with his terrible dad jokes but youll laugh every single time.

Nsfw:

Bf!jamie: Jamie has always been a soft lover, touching your body in the right places. He always makes you feel special, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he softly pounds into you.

Bf!jamie: Jamie loves when you mark up his back, how you cling to him when he's hitting the right spots. He loves seeing them in the mirror in the morning, the burn feeling almost as pleasurable in the shower as when you gave them to him. You'd constantly apologize for them being so deep, he'd laugh it off, saying he loves them.

Bf!jamie: jamie loves fucking you in the shower, he loves seeing the water drip down you as he has you pinned against the shower wall, fucking you into obviation. The addition of the water makes the sound of sex louder, hearing the wet slapping of your skins together is enough to make him cum.

Bf!jamie: He loves when you pull on his hair, especially when he's in between your legs. How you grab a hold of his hair pushing his face further into your cunt, moaning loudly for him to keep going.

Bf!jamie: You guys both love soft morning sex. Jamie thinks is the best way to wake up, with him rolling on top of you, entering you slowly. Making soft slow love as the sun comes up.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #philadephia flyers #jamie drysdale smut

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goodluckclove · 1 day

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You Don't Need an Agent! Publishers That Accept Unsolicited Submissions

I see a few people sayin that you definitely need an agent to get published traditionally. Guess what? That's not remotely true. While an agent can be a very useful tool in finding and negotiating with publishers, going without is not as large of a hurdle as people might make it out to be!

Below is a list of some of the traditional publishers that offer reading periods for agent-less manuscripts. There might be more! Try looking for yourself - I promise it's not that scary!

Albert Whitman & Company: for picture books, middle-grade, and young adult fiction

Hydra (Part of Random House): for mainly LitRPG

Kensington Publishing: for a range of fiction and nonfiction

NCM Publishing: for all genres of fiction (YA included) and nonfiction

Pants of Fire Press: for middle-grade, YA, and adult fiction

Tin House Books: very limited submission period, but a good avenue for fiction, literary fiction, and poetry written by underrepresented communities

Quirk Fiction: offers odd-genre rep for represented and unagented authors. Unsolicited submissions inbox is closed at the moment but this is the page that'll update when it's open, and they produced some pretty big books so I'd keep an eye on this

Persea Books: for lit fiction, creative nonfiction, YA novels, and books focusing on contemporary issues

Baen: considered one of the best known publishers of sci-fi and fantasy. They don't need a history of publication.

Chicago Review Press: only accepting nonfiction at the moment, but maybe someone here writes nonfiction

Acre: for poetry, fiction and nonfiction. Special interest in underrepresented authors. Submission period just passed but for next year!

Coffeehouse Press: for lit fiction, nonfiction, poetry and translation. Reading period closed at time of posting, but keep an eye out

Ig: for queries on literary fiction and political/cultural nonfiction

Schaffner Press: for lit fiction, historical/crime fiction, or short fiction collections (cool)

Feminist Press: for international lit, hybrid memoirs, sci-fi and fantasy fiction especially from BIPOC, queer and trans voices

Evernight Publishing: for erotica. Royalties seem good and their response time is solid

Felony & Mayhem: for literary mystery fiction. Not currently looking for new work, but check back later

This is all what I could find in an hour. And it's not even everything, because I sifted out the expired links, the repeat genres (there are a lot of options for YA and children's authors), and I didn't even include a majority of smaller indie pubs where you can really do that weird shit.

A lot of them want you to query, but that's easy stuff once you figure it out. Lots of guides, and some even say how they want you to do it for them.

Not submitting to a Big 5 Trad Pub House does not make you any less of a writer. If you choose to work with any publishing house it can take a fair bit of weight off your shoulders in terms of design and distribution. You don't have to do it - I'm not - but if that's the way you want to go it's very, very, very possible.

Have a weirder manuscript that you don't think fits? Here's a list of 50 Indie Publishers looking for more experimental works to showcase and sell!

If Random House won't take your work - guess what? Maybe you're too cool for Random House.

#writing community #writeblr #on writing #writers on tumblr #authors of tumblr #queer writers #poc writer #trans writers #ya author #writing tips #writing resources #writing inspiration #writers supporting writers

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notjuststardust · 3 days

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"I love you more than meat!" Luffyxreader

You get ghosted and in a chaotic turn of events end up hanging out at the carnival with Luffy for the day! This was meant to be a short drabble about carousels that shamelessly turned into this. Mutual pining and fluff with a touch of angst!

TW: Mentions of abandonment issues.

This morning had been the start of a good day or what was supposed to be a great day. Instead, it had given birth to a spectacle of chaos, leaving you alone to wander what was thought to be a joyous event with nothing but a shackle of despair to partner. Settling in a quaint corner of the festivities, you seated at a bench, observing the sparkle of infinite auburn redden the iridescent leaves of Firesky island as festival goers came and went. You were looking for 2 faces. You just wanted to see 2 familiar faces yet from the crowd came only strangers, faces smeared in cotton candy, grins infinite on their faces from Firesky’s island's yearly sunsets festival.

It wasn’t until the entrance was completely devoid of life that you’d realized what exactly had happened.

You had been ghosted.

It had been obvious since the moment you’d docked but you were no pessimist. After all, your crew had gone out of their way to be sneaky about your arrival (much to your rubber captains dismay), heck, Sanji had even cooked you a small tray of treats for your friends but now the tray was empty and so was the fair's entrance. A sour taste ran through your gut. Maybe they had written that they couldn’t attend and you just hadn’t gotten it yet.

That’s when you heard the screaming.

It was a familiar ululation yet with the fog of your distress it took more than just a moment to pinpoint that the squawking wasn’t from some buzzard in the trees. Your head snaps in the direction of a food stand down the way, locking in on the unmistakable yellow straw of your captains hat. His presence pulls a smile. Then a frown. What if he asked about your friends? Or the absence thereof?

“Please! I swear ‘ll pay ya’! I just need t’ run back to my ship real quick-“ Luffy’s plea earns a snort from you. This wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten his wallet and from the swell of noise from the shopkeeper you could tell your captain was being threatened with a sentence of work to pay off his debt of funnel cake, again.

Before Luffy says another word you pull a 20 from your pocket and etch the most charismatic grin you can muster. Though Luffy thinks it’s an expression that could make Princes bow the knee the shopkeeper isn’t impressed, muttering a quiet, “Women these days and their choice of men,” before you drag the rubber man along with you into the mess of people. You turn to give the man a scolding but before you can muster a word Luffy pulls you into a bone crushing embrace, nuzzling his face freckled in powdered sugar to your own as he shouts a thousand thanks to you.

“Thanks’a bunch! You totally saved me back there-“ you pull back, shaking your face in an attempt to discard of the powder but Luffy just cackles, licking his pointer and smudging a smiley face bolden your cheek. “Come on’, a smile suits’ ya’.” He chimes before he sees the unmistakable glitch of anger in your brow, smoke nearly blowing from your nostrils as you step out of his embrace.

“You were supposed to give me an hour.” However much to your denial it had been an hour an hour ago and now your body was clinging to something to be angry at. You sigh, remembering yourself, and of course, Luffy doesn’t understand. He just cocks his head.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t wait that long, I was hungry!” He protests, crossing his arms with an annoyed pout. “S’ not my fault you haven’t told your friends about me.” He looks around, your step faltering a beat. A pit grows in his stomach. Paying no mind to the other bystanders Luffy ostriches his neck over the crowd, peering into the souls of passerby in search of your companions only to boomerang his head back into place and find you several paces ahead, tears threatening to ruin the small touch of makeup Nami had prettied you up with. Luffy’s flip flops smack behind until they’re as loud as thunderclaps, his grip lacing you in place as he turns you to look at him.

“Luffy what-“

“Where are they?” His throat tightens. Had his lack of self control really scared them off? Was Nami right when she told him that his presence would ruin your long awaited special day? You never once asked for anything on the crew. Your only request since joining had been to go to this festival and see your friends so of course Luffy granted that but had he unknowingly damned his promise? His eyes were taut with worry, a frown verging his face.

Your brain stutters at his seriousness.

Gosh, he was going to be utterly wrathful if you admit the truth. You take a big breath and it’s obvious Luffy is braced for impact, the news that he was the reason your silly smile was absent from your face but that’s not at all what leaves your mouth.

“… I think they forgot.” You settle for, not ready nor wanting to admit the entirety of the situation. Your captain blinks once. Then twice. Then you shrug it off and that’s what makes his heart ache and his fists clench.

“Who could ever forget about you?” His words are pure confusion. He sees your throat bob and your chest heave. Dark brows furrowed, it clicks into place.

They hadn’t forgotten.

“Too bad.” He doesn’t let you ruminate, interlocking his fingers with yours and tugging you along in tow. You consider protesting but Luffy has easied into a content skip, settling right back into his cheer. He leads you further and further into the festival until buzzers and the grind of roller coasters bleeds your ears near deaf.

“Luffy, I want to go back to the ship.” You murmur, plea almost imperceptible underneath the whistles and hollers of the festivities. He doesn’t even nod, just pulling you glued to his side with a huge grin plastered on his face.

“Nah, yer stayin’!” He snickers at how your eyes nearly buzz out of your head.

“Why do I have to be stuck with you?” You blatant, no hint of joking in your voice. Manifesting the soul of a distressed goat he bleeds with offense, rearing his head back and huffing and puffing about how no one ever wants to spend time with him. You were about to go on about how his boredom was just too expensive to satiate until the mere thought frees the very solution previously missing buckling into your nose from the confines of his hat.

You clap a hand over your nose. Luffy stares as his leather projectile plops to the floor. His wallet.

“Hey! Found my wallet!” The joy of his found firstfruits wipes the debate straight from the straw-hat’s psyche. You snort, a smile cracking at your lips.

“For once.” You retort and he sticks his nose up, a knowing laugh blurting out.

“K, fine. Tabs on me!” He declares, raising the leather satchel in perceived triumph. Little did you know there was only a mere 50 dollar bill in its confines.

Luffy tells himself not to worry about it and starts leading you along again, stare moving back and fourth along all the options of fun as you merely shrug at the mention of them. There had to be something that would cheer you up and he’d use the rest of the money on that if it levied the weight off of your shoulders.

That’s when he sees it.

Pixies of awe resuscitate hope in your eyes, an almost childlike wonder spinning his head to see exactly what you’d had your eyes on. Was it the goldfish game you’d carried on about to Nami as he sat on the head of the Sunny or was it a super tall rollercoaster? He’s thrilled by even the thread of possibility, locking eyes with-

A carousel.

You don’t even have to ask before Luffy is sprinting at the contraption, busting past 2 groups of little kids racing to the ride. He secures a spot for you at the head, waving like a loon, uncaring as he shouts for you to run for it.

“Luffy, they’re kids. We should let them go ahead.” You tell him as you apologetically budge past the littles to union with Luffy again.

“Mm’ nah. Finders keepers!” Oh, right. Luffy was a 21 year old man child himself. The gates veer open and Luffy hurries to the opposite side of the contraption, pointing at a well kept black stallion gild in a bridle of gold. You whisper to him as you catch up, stretching a rubber arm to carry you to his side. “That kids’ got h’s eyes on my hors’..” he says directly into your ear, before he mounts his extravagant steed, pointing to the partner equine beside. You gawk.

“Hey, thats a kids pony!” Your squeals only send Luffy into a rapture of cackles, machine groaning into motion.You lurch for the safety, seating yourself in the rusted saddle of an ancient pony, tutued in moth eaten pink. You snort, side eyeing your captain whom observes you with not an ounce of pity even when you look up to him utterly rejected. Instead he seems almost delighted to see you throned atop something so… weird.

“You’re so short.” He eggs on with a little giggle, slapping his thigh as if he is the grandest comedian to grace the grand line until your eyes stop sparkling. Your cheeks are hot with shame and a sadness that rivals your earlier depression comes to light.

“No, I look stupid.” You counter no remainders of your earlier enthrallment, glowering around as the carousel muses out some outdated song of melancholic violin as if to challenge your earlier miseries.

“C’mere,” Luffy tuts, refusing you the luxury of choice to pick the latter. His arms take a knowing gander, rubber limbs scooping you from the seat of your malformed ballerina horse to plop you down cozy at the pommel of his own steed. “S’ we look stupid together.” He chimes much too comfortably into the shell of your ear, stomach pressed flat against your back as he flashes you a winning grin. You’d could have called it romantic if his next words didn’t blast your eardrums from the inside out. “Cheese!” You bark out a laugh as he throws up a peace sign to some photographer in the crowd, uncaring that you both are probably violating a million safety rules during your artificial gallop.

After the ride is over you both get a proper scolding from the staff. “You put everyone in that ride in danger!” You almost retort that the ride itself was a threat to any semblance of society due to the obvious repairs it needed until you notice the silence. You’d thought Luffy would have said that for you but instead hes mumbling out some half baked apology, eyes grazing over the heads of the crowd for target. He’s looking for someone and he’s not going to find them standing here.

“Sorry, wont happen again sir!” You apologize profusely, whipping your head in the direction that Luffy had disappeared into to find him honed in on something in the distance. “Luffy-” You call, sprinting in the direction of a meat stand you assumed him to be running at but he darts past it without a second thought. Before you can register what exactly is happening Luffy has his arms around a screaming and squirming civilian. “Luffy, what the heck did he do?” But Luffy’s too far away and too focused to hear a word, clueless as to why his target is begging for his life.

“Why’re ya cryin’? I’m just tryn’a get one of those pictures you’ve got of us s’ all.” Luffy’s words are casual, unbothered and certainly not angry like you and the photographer had assumed. The photographer gawks at the realization and relief returns the color to his cheeks, looking to you of all people to clarify that your friend was indeed not a threat. You nod but a laugh bubbles over and its not because its funny.

“Oh, right. Yeah.. I can do that.” As the photographer prints the photo from his camera Luffy pops a look in your direction with a soft ‘hmm?’. You don’t dare tell him that you too had thought Luffy was about to jump the poor guy. The camera juts out a Polaroid and Luffy rips it from the mouth, primal joy blown celestial in the soft crinkle of his nose. He smacks the image around until he can view his bounty. Satisfied, Luffy starts to trod off with a jovial ‘thanks’ forgetting to pay the guy for the trouble.

That he does as soon you give him a reminding shout. 5 dollars for the photo and another 10 for the emotional distress he’d caused. A steal in Luffy’s opinion as he secures his trophy in the ribbon of his hat, trodding on his merry way as if nothing at all had just happened.

You snort and fall in step with one another, continuing your venture this time unncaring of exactly what activities commence for now your excitement is a charge, not a distraction and Luffy thanks whatever being knits the universe together for it. Luffy’s mood only halo’s along with yours. His untired chaos is a convincing beam persuading the tear stains to weigh a little lighter and the games you had earlier complained as being rigged to become challenges instead of inconveniences. Now you won’t stop playing any of them until you’ve beaten more than Luffy.

Thats until amidst your smack talk he realizes that his wallet is empty.

“10 to 10,” You grumble. “You have advantages anyway because of your haki, i’m sure one more and I’ll whoop your butt.” You nearly plonk over as you sway with newfound tiredness, stride a zig zag that your captain follows subconsciously until you release a gargantuan yawn right into his face. He snickers.

“M’ out v’ money, sorry.” He relents, observing you for any sign of disappointment but you just hum and straighten up to look his way. He nearly flatlines.

“My bad, speaking of which, we should get some food in you,” the words are muffled by the bronzing of your irises. They’ve adopted ethereal flame crowning him king in the reflection of your pupils. “Luffy?” You chime as his heart leaps into his throat.

He could just hear Zoro calling him an oblivious idiot and for once he wouldn’t argue. Couldn’t argue because the sunset had practically just claimed you his queen.

“Hmm?” He tries to casual before his stomach roars shamelessly. “Oops.” He scratches the back of his neck, cheeks pelting pink when your expression sours with guilt.

“No problem.” You burrow a hand into your dress and out comes a granola bar. He gawks, heart thundering as you remind him of why he started to like you in the first place: you always had food. “My bad.” You ruffle his hair as he vacuums down nearly both the wrapper and snack as one, making way the opposite of him. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything. I’ll grab you a burger.” You mutter, leaving Luffy to processing as you do some of your own by the burger stand.

There’s a feeling that verges guilt ebbing below the layers of festival dress you adorn, doubling your spending to appease the reminder soiling that turbulent peace that you had abandoned to feed. Luffy didn’t need to spend the day with you. He wasn’t supposed to anyway. You start to question his resolve, mulling over the details to count how many fake smiles he had shot your way.

The number comes to none as you pay and retrieve 2 meat lovers burgers from the attendant and make your way back to where your captain waits.

Where he was supposed to be waiting if he hadn’t decided that being somewhere else was more fun. You nearly drop his food. Nostalgic panic storming the calvary of flesh beneath.

Of course he’d left.

Tears threaten the floodgates before a boasting shout masters the nausea. You freeze and without a single ounce of warning you’re airborne with a rubber arm blown taut around your waist. Then you’re nose to nose with the missing moron.

You bark out a sound between a laugh and a sob.

“You could have told me you were going somewhere else!” Your hands reach to wipe a tear, intercepted by a telling grip.

“Who made ya cry?” You silence at his intense stare, biting your tongue as to keep your tongue from confessing. His grip loosens and trails to pull your forehead to his. “S’rry. I should h’ve told you.” He mutters, stupid from the lack of forethought about your earlier ghosting. You shove the burger to his mouth. Taking that as a sign of forgiveness, Luffy takes a chomp, hand cupping your cheeks to crank your neck to show you why he’d done it. His munching is drowned out by an amber cast reaching from the horizon to lap up the navy of the coming evening. The pelt of stars was in rival with the fire of the horizon, the island's name ringing blatant for all to see.

“Oh my gosh,” now tears threaten for a different reason and its certainly not because you’re upset. “How does it do that?!” You look to Luffy and he grins.

“Dunno, but its cool, right?” You nod, eyes catching the eternal autumn of this islands maples refracting crystalline against the aurora. You babble on about something to do with cone receptors and rods while Luffy nods in support of your hypothesis until the ferris wheel whines with movement. You lurch for your captain for some illusion of safety. He howls out a laugh and merely grins at your terror. “Are all of the rides on the verge of death here?” You complain as Luffy swallows the remains of his food, scooting you closer to him.

“S’ okay! I can protect you. Just hold onto me, k?” He snickers, quieting when you give him a soft glare.

“Why are you making that face?” Your snort does nothing to bay the laughter whispering in your gut as he tries to screw his face back to any ounce of normalcy.

“V’ got a surprise for you in a minute. Just you wait-” he hums with a too proud grin as you pale past death.

“I knew it! You better not toss me out of the ride or do anything crazy or I’ll kill you-” He revels with jest, slapping his knee that only sends the ferris wheel car swinging like a pendulum.. “Luffy-!” Your scolding does nothing to deter his delight, peaking as you hold onto him for dear life. He hums and cocks his head at your undoubtedly nervous giggles.

Did you seriously think he would do that with precious cargo on board?

“Oh come on, m’ not that crazy! I’m just gonna confess to you at the top is all!” He soothes, smoothing out a stray hair on your head to calm you but he's only sent you down a pit of overthought scenarios. He however, is innocent as ever, a pillar of calm despite the ebbing worm of anxiety inching your tummy. You’re quiet now but theres this weird look on your face like he’s just told you something he shouldn’t have. “You’re blushing.” Luffy points to your nose pelting red.

“No friggin duh Luffy!” You face palm and chortle, brain scrambled by his deafness to his own volume. “You just told me that you’re gonna confess. You know that, right?” You inquire and Luffy blinks.

“Okay?” His lips scrunch up into a pout, rehearsing a well practiced grumble. “I could just confess that Sanji whispered the fridge code out during the night and that's why we keep running low on meat-”

“Monkey D Luffy!” He explodes with laughter, slapping a hand over your mouth with a wicked mischief brewing behind his eyes.

“You can’t go tellin’ on me or its not’a secret anymore, k?” He leans a breaths length away, eyes lasering into yours. You nod in hesitant agreeance as the machine slows toward the top. His tongue ties itself into knots when you reach your destination. He removes his hand, remembering his purpose when your small port on sunset chugs past the peak, his mouth left open in pure shock. “Hey!” Luffy nearly throws himself out of the cart to search for the attendant below. “Stop the ride! You promised!” The skeleton of the ferris wheel trembles with his uproar, a tirade of desperate demands slipping past his lips as the romantic view slips away.

“Hey, look at me Luff-” He gives you a look that could kill.

“No, s’ not fine. He promised t’a wait.” The statement hits you like a projectile brick.

“You planned this?” Your brows hike, cocking your head. He doesn’t answer

“Kinda, like 4 minutes’ ago. Thought you’d like it’.”

“I would but it's not a big deal.” Your assurance does nothing to quell his unspent wrath.

“Yes it is! I need to tell you!” His certainty is inerrant, voice carrying no compromise as others rise up in protest. Of course he started a rebellion ‘for love’ on the ferris wheel.

“Do you not believe in love? Let the poor guy tell her how he feels!” You bite back a laugh as the man below shouts. “Take them to the top so they can kiss!” A group of little girls shriek from the cart above and Luffy joins their hollers. The phrase ‘for love’ trumpets throughout the surrounding area until peer pressure proves effective.

Finally.

Cheers surmount the wheel and Luffy tosses a look over his shoulder, gifting you a thumbs up.

“See? V’ got it all under control.” He plops backward beside you with a content hum. You sit in stiff stillness while Luffy lounges without a worry. He eyes you over and softly chuckles, poking your thigh. “Ya nervous?” He wagers, scooting a bit closer to you. Your mouth guppies, cheeks alight as you peek at the honeying horizon near blazon with the peak nearing once again.

“I don’t know. Isn’t this even a little bit nerve wracking for you?” You honest and Luffy considers the hypothesis.

“Nah.” he scratches the back of his neck with an easy shrug as if he didn’t just nearly ascend with the mere thought of this not going to plan.

“What do you mean ‘nah’?” You nearly laugh as his eyebrows swivel and he stares.

“Whats embarrassing about loving you?” You blank at his words. The ferris wheel eases at its noon and your heart flutters. You tried to think of an answer but the ones that came were less than satisfactory.

“I guess you’re.. Right.” You slowly admit, gracing him a teeny smile that makes him suck in his breath. Oh gosh. He fumbles for the proper words, his heart beating like its going to rip out of his chest. “It’s just you.” You murmur to yourself and the reminder is one that permissions him to take the leap.

It was just you. How embarrassing could it be?

“I love you more than meat!” His words blurt out like clumsy toddlers off a playground. He’s sweating buckets, bottom lip sucked dry between his teeth yet there is not an ounce of shame on his face. Even if it did pull groans from every bystander it was true and from the heart, undoubtedly Luffy.

The man is just about convinced that you brought him up here just to reject him when you break into an unrestrained cackle.

“I love you more!” The breath knocks out of him. A startled laugh ripping through the tension in his gut. He pulls you into a bone rearranging hug, burying his nose into the alcove of your neck to breathe in your scent.

Then he stops breathing and pulls back.

“Liar!” He bawks, pulling back to look at you like you’ve grown two heads. “I love you way way more!” He argues tone sober with conviction. You blink and a cheeky grin cements across your features.

You still had one order of unfinished business with him.

“Not enough to kiss me first-” Your mouth doesn’t give him time to even breathe a syllable. You crash into him in a passionate kiss. It's a clumsy dance of inexperience and it doesn’t help that Luffy is laughing in the middle of it but it's sweet and it's yours. You pull back and give him a sly grin. “10 to 10.” He processes a beat before betrayal marrs his features.

“No fair! A kiss isn’t a carnival game!” Though he bleets with annoyance he's quick to keep you glued to his side, head nosed up onto your shoulder even as he pouts. “You only kissed me for competition…” he whines as you get off the ride.

“That's not true-” You stop dead at the sound of a low whistle.

Zoro, smug as a cat thats knocked over a glass of water stands beside the rest of the other strawhats.

“About time.” Sanji says after a drag from his cigarette.

“I can’t believe it took all day, Luffy… she was probably so bummed.” Nami complains, referring to you as she shakes her head and motions to two of your own familiar faces. “If Luffy hasn’t told you already, your friends are coming to spend the night.” You turn to Luffy whose brows pop.

“Luffy,” You say so slowly as his cheeks flush with remembrance.

“Oh, ya. Forgot t’ tell ya y’r friends came by the ship to surprise you-” a vein pops in your forehead. “S’rry, kind f’ forgot havin’ ya all to myself.” He mumbles with his best innocent look. You gentle just a bit.

“I forgive you.” Thats a quiet 'shi shi shi' whisps his lips.

“Good, 11 to 10 then!”

“Monkey D Luffy!”

#luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy headcanons #monkey d. luffy #luffy #straw hat luffy #one piece x reader fluff

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 2 days

Text

One thing that has been bothering me a lot over the past few days is seeing all these RIP YOI, RIP IceAdo, Remember YOI etc. posts. As someone who discovered YOI later, I'm watching this unfold from the sidelines and I'm seriously worrying what this is going to do to the fandom. I understand that you are sad because the movie was cancelled, everyone has the right to be sad about such a thing, and I'm not trying to invalidate your pain. But, and I'm saying this with all kindness and my best intentions, and hell, I'm not even the first one saying this, but please hear me out:

YOI IS NOT DEAD.

It did not die last Friday. And it doesn't die because there won't be a movie. No story in human history has ever died because someone decided it was over. Stories are forever. They live in the hearts of the people. And so has YOI been living in the hearts of its fans since October 6th 2016, and will continue to live there for as long as we want.

Whenever I type "Yuri On Ice" into the search field of any social network, web archive, or search engine, I see hundreds of thousands of hits, most of them fanworks. Please take a moment to think about what that means:

In the 7.5 years since YOI aired, fans have made tons of art, written fanfiction and metas, cosplayed YOI characters, created fan videos, crafted all kinds of fan-made merch, and so much more. You are the ones who brought into being an infinite multiverse centred around an anime that is already larger than life. You have already created so much more YOI than Sayo, Kubo, MAPPA etc. could ever create even if they made one hundred movies. And even if every country in the world turns fascist and bans YOI, it will survive because fans will always find ways to preserve it and the power its message holds. Only stories that nobody no longer talks and cares about fade in oblivion.

You hold all the power to keep YOI alive, but, and this is probably the hardest pill to swallow, that also makes you the only ones who are able to kill YOI - be it by stopping to create or talk about it, or by shouting its death from the rooftops because you fancy yourself dramatic, or by turning the fandom into a hate-infested toxic hellscape, whichever will occur first.

And I honestly don't know which of these I fear most.

If you truly love YOI, please do your share and continue to keep it alive.

#yuri on ice #yoi #ice adolescence #jen's mind vomit #rant

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mattluvsmarni · 20 hours

Text

Fanfiction Truth

Summary: You knew Matt for as long as you can remember, but what you didn't know is how he'd react after catching you reading fanfiction about him.

Warnings: smut with a plot, p in v, making out, slight humiliation, swearing, unprotected sex.

A/N: This is my first fic on here. Idk how i came up with this i just thought imagine if his s/o in the future were to see the things that are written about him and ofc my mind went to filthy places. anyways i hope this fulfils ur expectations, enjoy lovlies!!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You lay on your stomach aimlessly scrolling through Pinterest for the last 3 hours, you adjust yourself, sitting upright , and shaking your arms to let the blood flow again. you and Matt were supposed to hangout but he's running late. you pick up your phone to check if matt has texted– nothing. You find yourself thumbing through posts trying to stay busy.

You come across a post reminding you of a comment section about matts fanfictions. You drop your phone to pick your laptop up again, search his name in tags, and scroll judging by titles until you find one.

as you read, you can feel your eyes slightly watering and the light coming from the screen suddenly being a bother,

Her and Matt are in a club.

The lights are low, they’re intoxicated, his hands on her hips, not an inch of space between they’re bodies, they’re moulded into one.

her head thrown back, he's breathing in her ear.

his hands running up and down her body.

you sit back, your thighs pressed together. this is matt, your matt, the matt on his way to innocently hang out with you right now. and this is what you’re doing? You stare at the screen for another minute contemplating your choices , but you're already wondering what's going to happen next.

he snakes his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

she can feel him growing in his pants.

she can feel her arousal soaking her panties, as she tries to squeeze her thighs together while continuing to grind and sway,

He's teasing, toying with the hem of her skirt. She tightens her grip on the material around his biceps, as her nails dig into the skin of his around her waist.“Matt, please” she breathes.

“Please what” he teases

“I need you, please.”

‘“In any situation your manners are still in use, such a good girl aren't you?” he coos.

“For you? Always.” she admits, spinning around to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Yeah?”, He chuckles, “you’re going to have to hold out for me until we’re home though.” he mockingly pouts, smoothing his hand down your back to lightly squeeze your ass.

This was getting you all hot and bothered. you’d be lying if you said you weren't imagining present day you and Matt.

Matt and you unintentionally ended up at the same college, after he made your early school years more horrible than it already was. Now being ‘older and wiser’ which he claims to be he finally grew a pair leaving him with a want to rectify his history with you . This includes hanging out from time to time, trying to form a healthy friendship, and seeing where it goes from there.

but reading that and always having nothing other than your fingers to help you get off. Makes everything you just read sound so perfect. You’ve had your fair share of fantasies when it comes to Matt. Seeing it all spelt out and in front of you made you in need of something real. You just wanted to drop to your knees in front of him, and beg to please him. Have him laugh in your face, call you pathetic, and shove his dick down your throat.

"Fuck" you whisper shout, running a hand through your hair, your thoughts were out of control. You slam your laptop shut. pacing around your room, up till your movements are interrupted by a notification on your phone.

Matt:

I just pulled in

You:

omw!

After taking a minute to exercise your breathing. You slip on your slippers running down the stairs, the buzzer goes off right before you can hit the button.

Letting him in, you notice the bag of snacks in his hands before looking up at him to see that small, but genuine smile. He pulls you in for a quick hug. "Sorry Chris needed me to take him to eat before I came over."

You can't even look him in the eye and he's apologising for running late. "no, no you’re good, come on up." you exclaim, shaking your head of all unwanted thoughts.

lying on your backs facing each other. you guys fell into a chain of laughs and good conversations with your playlist playing in the background. "I'm glad to finally have you sitting here listening to my music."

"Stop acting like I hog." he gasps, "I let you play music."

With a quirk of your eyebrow, he quickly adds, "sometimes."

"name one time." you insisted.

Turning his head in the other direction. He tries to pretend he's in thought when really, he's trying to hold back a smile.

"Mhm exactly" you strongly emphasise, "I'll never understand why though my taste is significantly better than yours."

"yeah?" He argued

and that one word took you back 2hrs, reminding you of what you read earlier.

You sat up clearing your throat, "yeah."

"Let's not lie to ourselves."

"Denial is the sickest disease" rolling his eyes at your comment. He goes to gather all the trash into a single bag, Brushing you off with a distasteful grumble.

"Can we start looking for a movie to watch?" He asks

"Of course! start looking." you call out on your way out to grab a soda for the two of you.

You walk back into the room to Matt and inch away from the computer screen, his eyes quickly moving from one side to another.

"Here" you chuckle, handing him his drink

"Who needs movies when we could just read these" he suggests.

Every bone in your body goes rigid. You completely forgot to clear the tab. "Wait, hold on, give me a second." you frantically try to reason, lunging forward in an attempt to take it out of his hands.

But he’s quick to drive it out of your reach.

"No, you wait, and give me a second, I'm almost done." he says, bringing a finger up before your face to punctuate his words.

A wave of embarrassment washes over your entire body, you sit back trying not to look anymore suspicious. Your pursuit at trying to stay unbothered fails the minute you start to think about what part he's reading.

Matt seems so invested and you’d give a million bucks to know what was going on in his head right now. The only sound between the two of you was the music now lightly playing. He continues his scrolling, smirking for a split second, now you’d also kill to know what drove that reaction out of him.

You can hear the pounding of your heart, as he finishes up closing the object of your demise to look up at you. You avert your eyes, taking sudden interest in your feet.

“I've always heard of these but never got around to actually reading one though.” he says finally breaking the silence

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth not knowing how to respond.

"Why were you reading them anyway?" he questions, inching closer to your place at the edge of the bed.

"I saw a comment section on it the other day" you're 100% sure it's visible how hard you’re breathing.

"There's no need to be embarrassed. I'm just surprised. It's not something I expected from you." he assures.

"What’d you think of it?" he asks, placing a hand on your unclothed thigh, and smiling triumphantly when he hears your breath hitch.

"I didn't get to really read it" you say lying through your teeth.

"Come on we both know that's a lie he says with a look of disbelief. ‘It's written all over your face, you’re telling me you didn't imagine me and you in that club." He asks, trailing his hands up your thigh .

"Because I did. It was you who I imagined wearing a flimsy little black dress. Under colourful lights. It was your body that was backed up against mine." he says, and you can feel his breath on year neck.

Your eyes flutter closed as you angle just right for him to mark.

He brings his lips to your neck leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses.

You couldn't bring yourself to care how evident your need for him was anymore. Not with that confession of his. Not when he was touching you the way you’d only dreamed of in the company of yourself.

"I want you to let me have my way with you, have you under me. For you to be begging me to let you finish." he says, his hand now almost right where my body needs him the most.

"Or I could just back off completely. And continue to be your plain old buddy Matt."

"Your pick sweetheart." He threatens, removing himself from you.

"Matt!" you instantly whine at the loss of warmth. Quickly reaching for his hand to place it back on your thigh,

"the first option" you huff out.

He chuckles, slowly bringing his hand up to your clothed clit pressing his finger to it tracing along the wet patch that's gathered and I forgot how to breathe.

His touch is light and barely there but i still can't will myself to breathe. I wish he'd give more and as careless as it makes me, I want it.

"tell me. What exactly was the first choice again?’"He begins moving in a slow and tangible circular motion.

you open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a jumbled cross of a gasp and a hum.

He slows down his movements even more. coming up to pinch your nipple through your shirt. "I asked a question."

"Have your way with me until I'm begging you to let me finish." you rush out, throwing your head back, and bucking up your hips looking for more friction. It was embarrassing that you were already losing it and he’s done nothing.

“You don't have to tell me twice” picking back up his speed. A barely there whimper escapes my lips.

He's leaving more kisses all down to where his teeth skim the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder. Marking all along your skin.

he finally dips a finger inside your underwear. Seeing for himself how much of an effect he’s actually had on you.

“So fucking wet like I knew you’d be.” His cock twitched against the constricting material of his pants as you audibly moan at his words

Inserting a finger. You throw your head back from the sudden relief as he works you perfectly. Your body had a mind of its own in this moment, moving with his fingers.

“Yeah go ahead and ride my fingers. Show me how good I make you feel.” He growled into your ear

Pressing his thumb to your clit as he curled his fingers in you, and that was all you needed to come undone all over his fingers.

Watching you try to catch you breath and the way your lips were still parted had him bringing his fingers dragging them across your lips to spread your wetness along them

You made direct eye contact as you darted your tongue out to taste yourself, that small action alone did so many things for him

Tempted, he licked his own lips reflectively mirroring your actions.

Overtaken by his temptation he smashes his lips against yours, your hands fly to his hair taking advantage of your surprise he’s quick to slip his tongue into your mouth tasting you like he was a starved man you moan into the kiss as he brings you up to straddle his lap.

The kiss was hungry and fast eager to satiate the want you both were obviously feeling he was gripping your hips to help you move in circular motions as you grinded down on him you’ve never felt so in need of something more than you were right now he felt the same it was written into his lips and the way it aggressively moved against your own.

Your patience was wearing thin. And his dick was begging to be freed. Your fingers reached down to press on the button of his jeans then to look into his eyes for any signs of disagreement. There wasn’t any. “I don’t want to finish on anything other than your dick right now.” you admit as you go to unbutton his pants.

“Fuck” he curses, halting your movements by quickly flipping you both over so that his chain was now dangling over your face. He wasted no time reconnecting your lips, only pausing to pull your top off and making quick work of your bra.

His lips moved down swirling his tongue around your hardened nipple “Matt” you breathed, as your body melted completely into his touch. “Please” moving over to give the other one the same attention “I know baby, I know” he assured

Leaving a path of kisses all the way down to the waistband of your shorts. “Up” he spoke. Lifting your hips so he could get rid of your shorts and panties. Next came his shirt and finally those cockblocking jeans.

His pants and boxers now a pile of nothing on the floor. He started slowly stroking his member, aligning it with your wet and ready entrance, amused at the moan you let out when he had barely pushed it in yet. “Quit the teasing.” you whined

He pushes himself in “holy shit you're tight”, he grits out and you immediately clench around him causing a groan to escape his lips.

You felt light-headed by the amount of pleasure you were feeling at the moment.

Matt. Right here, was everything to you right now. It was something that was gonna be inked into your brain forever.

With a roll of his hips and the arching of your back he was buried deep in you, and it had you seeing stars.

Matt loved the position he had you in where he could see every single reaction he pulled out of you. "exactly where i wanted you" he says with each thrust. "and you're taking me so, so well."

The tip of his dick continuously meets the sweet spot inside you, sending you closer to the edge

"oH OH" you quietly moan

"Come on don't hold back, i wanna hear you" he grunts, "is this what you imagined when you were reading those filthy things about your friend?"

you moan in response. he continues his merciless pace, as he brings a thumb to your clit.

"Fuck, fuck matt i'm close." you warn just as you feel the nearing of your second orgasm.

"go ahead baby, cum for me" his thrusts and thumb both gaining speed

as if your body was waiting on his permission, your vision fades to black while you feel your body arch off the bed as you let yourself go

"fuck yeah" he moans, his movements getting sloppy as he paints your insides white

you both lay there after he collapses next to you and pulls you in after you've both caught your breaths

"so am i staying here tonight" he questions breaking the silence

you can feel his chin moving on top of your head as he speaks, "no we can't remember that was established."

"I think it's a little too late to be talking about not crossing lines, considering you just let me fuck you." you could just imagine that smug look of his right now feeling all proud knowing he's got you

"fine just this once" you sigh in defeat

"yup just this once" he mocks as he gets up to your bathroom looking for a towel to clean you both up.

"i'm serious" you demand loud enough for him to hear only smiling to yourself now that you're out of his sight.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A/N 2: That pic of Matt on the tour bus will always have me in a chokehold.

#sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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