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harmonicakai · 2 days
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Was It Something I Said?
Part 5 of the "Anyone Else But You" series
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Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader
Summary: It gets harder and harder for you and Kai to pretend like there isn't something going on between the two of you.
Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni!!!!), reader is insecure, miscommunication, alcohol, injuries
A/N: ahhh this series is almost over!!! i'm gonna miss it so much, but there's still plenty to come :-)
FIC INSPIRED PLAYLIST <3
“Did I fuck it up again? Are we destined to be friends? I wanna give you more than that” —Be Around Me, Will Joseph Cook
Kai and the boys have been in Japan for two days now, but with the amount of times that he has you on the phone, it feels like he never even left. Even if he refuses to talk about what happened at the album party, things are going pretty well between you and him.
You’re about to head out the door when your phone rings. You don’t even need to check the caller ID.
“Y/N, you didn’t call! The show’s about to start and you didn’t call!” Kai’s voice rings out of your phone’s speaker. While you can tell he’s mostly joking, he’s also a little worked up.
“Kai, we just talked, like, two hours ago. You know I have that date tonight.” Oh, he knows.
“Yeah, but I like when you call right before I’m about to go on stage. You’re my good luck charm.”
“You’re just being superstitious.”
“I wish you could see me pouting right now.” His sad puppy dog visuals pop into your head.
“Ugh, fine,” you relent. “You’re going to do amazing, Hyuka. Fighting!”
“That’s my girl!” he laughs, immediately ready to give his all on the stage. “I miss you so much.” 
His affection catches you off guard and you go quiet. 
“Hello?” he asks. “Y/N, are you there?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m still here. Call me back so I can know how it went, okay?”
“You know I will,” he assures you. There’s obvious disappointment in his voice.
“Hueningie, it’s time to go!” you hear Taehyun call in the background.
“I have to go. Bye. Have fun on your date!”
“Bye,” you say. He ends the call and you feel an ache in your stomach. You miss him too, so why couldn’t you have just said it back?
When you finally get out the front doors of your building, Seongjin’s already waiting for you, flowers in hand. You note his outfit, something similar to what you have pinned on your “boyfriend manifestation” moodboard.
“Hey,” he says, holding the bouquet out to you. “These are for you.”
“They’re lovely,” you smile, bringing them to your nose to sniff them. You love the smell of roses. “I don’t think anybody’s ever gotten me flowers before.”
“Well, there’s more where that came from.” Seongjin’s hand finds its way into yours. He’s bold and romantic, even dressing exactly how you’d like him to. He’s checking off all of your boxes, and yet something feels off.
As the two of you walk towards the city’s center, you actually have no clue what he’s planned for tonight until he stops outside of a restaurant that you’ve had on your bucket list for years now.
“You’re joking!” you say in disbelief. “You have to get a reservation months in advance to eat here, and even then it’s impossible.”
“I called in a few favors,” he grins, holding the door open for you. You blush, wondering what you’ve done to deserve even a fraction of the effort he’s gone through.
The dinner’s going okay. There’s just something about the way that Seongjin’s meticulously planned everything, even his responses to your small talk, that makes you suspicious. He feels too perfect, almost unreal.
You find yourself focusing more on the delicious food than on any of what he’s been saying.
“You know,” he starts, “I only went to that album party because I knew you’d be there.”
The hint of Seongjin speaking in a less rehearsed way grabs your attention. You look up to see him grinning.
“No, you didn’t,” you laugh, dismissing him. “You probably didn’t even know who I was before Yeonjun introduced us.”
“Of course I did. I’ve thought you were cute for a while now. The way you’re always running around with your arms full of clothes. I can’t wait to debut so you can dress me up.”
You can’t believe that anybody had even noticed you around the building, let alone taken a romantic interest. If only somebody else felt that way. 
“Well, does that mean you’re not a big fan of TXT?” you ask, sipping your wine. You’re mostly joking, but also curious what his honest opinion of the group is.
“I mean, obviously, I think my uncle makes great songs for them. But besides Yeonjun, I don’t think they’re the kind of guys I’d really hang out with, you know?”
Your face heats up at his answer and your energy shifts. “No, I don’t know. Care to explain?”
“The other guys just seem so dorky. Not to mention half of them were wasted at a work event. Like that Huening kid whose outburst interrupted our conversation. What was that about anyway?”
“It’s none of your business,” you scoff, setting your silverware down. “And he’s not a kid. He’s almost twenty-two.”
“Look, Y/N, I know you’re close with them. I didn’t mean to make you upset. We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”
“You’re right, we don’t,” you say, standing up and gathering your things. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll see you around, I guess.”
On your way home, you start to wonder if you’ve made a mistake blowing off someone so well connected, but the way he talked about your friends makes your blood boil. 
Then again, things had been going just fine before then. Maybe you should’ve just smiled and nodded like you usually do. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get asked on another date again, let alone one that was planned so well.
Suddenly, your phone rings and for some reason, you answer. “What do you want now, Kai?!” you snap into the speaker.
“Whoa,” an unexpected voice replies, dragging out the word. “Actually, it’s Yeonjun.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you groan, embarrassed at your attitude. “Hi, Jun.”
“So, I’m guessing your date didn’t go very well?”
“I think I’m going to get fired,” you huff, finally reaching your building again.
“That bad, huh? Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t know. He’s handsome and thoughtful and everything I could ask for really, but there wasn’t any sort of spark. Plus he called everyone in the group except you dorky, and that’s when I just got up, thanked him, and left.”
“Everyone else is dorky, Y/N. You really couldn’t wait until the end of dinner because of that?” 
“Fine, it’s stupid when I say it out loud. But the damage is already done,” you sigh, digging through your purse for your keys.
“I’m sure he’d reconsider if you apologize,” he reasons with you. You’re not sure that you actually have anything to be sorry about.
“I shouldn’t have to! He was making fun of Kai!” That’s it, you realize. That’s the reason you’re so upset. Of course this is somehow about him.
“Ah, I see now,” Yeonjun says, dropping the issue. “Well, hopefully you won’t run into him at work much.”
“Hopefully,” you agree. “How was the show?”
“It was amazing,” he muses. “I really played off the crowd’s energy, and they loved my solo stage.”
“That’s awesome, Jun,” you smile back. Ever since you and Kai have grown closer, it’s felt like Yeonjun has taken a backseat. “Anything interesting happen?”
“Soobin tried to do the Water challenge,” he laughs. “We all ran to cover him up, though. Beomgyu played the guitar, and MOA kept mentioning how Taehyun looked like Ash Ketchum.”
“Maybe you guys need to do a Pokémon concept,” you think out loud. You don’t fail to notice that Yeonjun has conveniently left out Kai from his recap, as if he’s testing to see whether you’ll bring him up first.
“Would I get to be a fire type trainer?” Yeonjun asks. So, he really isn’t going to mention how Kai did tonight. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to ask about him.
“Yes, of course. I think Soobin would be water, Beomgyu grass, and Taehyun psychic. Actually, wait. Maybe Beomgyu would have fairy types.”
“And Kai?” Yeonjun finally relents. You breathe out in relief at the mention of him.
“He’d be electric,” you decide. “Or normal. Whichever ones are the cutest, really.”
“You wanna know how the concert went for him, don’t you?” he asks.
“No, it’s okay, Jun,” you brush him off. “We can talk about whatever you want.”
“Y/N. It’s cool. I’ve just been messing with you.” You can practically hear him smirking through the phone.
“Oh,” you twiddle your thumbs. “Well, yes, then tell me how he did.”
Yeonjun sucks in a breath. “First off, I don’t want you to get worried.”
“Okay? Why would I be worried?”
Yeonjun hesitates before answering you. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Your stomach drops.
“What?! Is that what you were hiding from me?”
“I knew it would make you upset, Y/N. It’s not a big deal. It’s probably just a sprain, alright?”
“But he’s hurt,” you sigh. “Is that the reason you called me and not him?”
“Can’t I just want to hear my dear friend’s voice and ask how her date went?”
“Mhmm, sure.” You side eye him through the phone, plopping down onto your bed. You’re too tired to change out of your date clothes.
“Okay, fine,” he continues. “Kai did ask me to call you while the doctor checks him out. He knew it would probably be all over social media and didn’t want you to worry.”
“It’s probably my fault he injured himself,” you mutter, kicking off your shoes. “I hope it’s not too bad.”
“Y/N, he’s fine,” Yeonjun assures you. “And how could it possibly be your fault? We aren’t even in the same country right now. The stage was probably just wet because of the rain from earlier.”
“I think I made him upset right before you guys went on stage. He said he missed me and I didn’t say it back, but I think he wanted me to.”
“Hmm, I guess he did seem a little down now that you mention it.”
“Well, tell him I said sorry.” Knowing that he was noticeably off tonight because of you makes you feel horrible. If you had just said it back, he probably could’ve focused on the show better.
“I mean, if you want to wait and tell him yourself, he’ll probably be back any second now.”
“I don’t really feel like talking anymore. Night, Jun. I’ll see you later.” Before Yeonjun can say bye, you’ve already hung up. You’ve never been more confused over your emotions than tonight.
Throwing a pillow over your head, you scream into it. Your love life is in shambles and all you can think about is Huening Kai’s stupid, possibly-sprained ankle.
—————-
When Kai’s plane lands, you’re the first person he wants to see. Before he even left, he made sure that you had a key to the apartment, something Yeonjun was always too lazy to do.
You haven’t brought up the disaster of a date you went on while he was away, and to your relief, he hasn’t asked about it either. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care that it happened.
Getting him to agree to watch the new Mean Girls remake for your weekly movie night was much easier than you expected. You had even prepared a whole speech for why he should relent even though it was supposed to be his choice tonight.
“It’s a musical,” you reasoned. “You’ll like it!”
You were very, very wrong. The movie was horrible, but at least that meant that the two of you could hate-watch it together.
“Those lyrics…” he starts, rubbing his temples as the closing credits played.
“And the costumes!” They were not going to age well.
“That was really bad,” he laughs. “That’s the last time I’m letting you pick when it’s my turn.”
“I have a feeling I’ll still be able to charm you in the future,” you say, batting your eyelashes.
“That is so not fair.” He crosses his arms. “Why are you so cute?”
“It’s my superpower,” you say, grinning. A few months ago, you would’ve never said something like that, but Kai makes you feel so much better about yourself.
The way you’re looking at him makes him blush, and he glances away hoping you haven’t noticed. His gaze focuses on the clock on the wall.
“Oh, Y/N, it’s past two.” Kai says. Time always seems to disappear when you’re together. “Do you want me to walk you home?”
Thunder booms outside the window and you can hear raindrops hitting the roof.
“That might be a bad idea. I can just call a car,” you say, grabbing your phone. He stops you.
“Just stay here,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“You can’t sleep on the couch,” you disagree. “Yeonjun will think we’re mad at each other.”
“Well, if we sleep in here together, he’ll probably start planning our wedding.”
“I guess we’re losers in this game, huh?” you say, immediately cringing at the pun. The two of you exchange glances before cracking up.
Kai always takes longer to stop laughing than you. “Okay, how about this. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says, still giddy.
“But it’s your bed! I can sleep on the floor.”
“I am not letting you sleep on the floor. You’re my guest.”
“This is stupid, Kai. Yeonjun doesn’t know the difference whether one of us sleeps on the floor or in the bed. We might as well just share.”
“But you snore, remember?”
“There’s actually no real evidence to that claim,” you refute.
“Well, it’s a twin sized bed. I might crush you.”
“I don’t need that much space. We can even sleep head to toe, if you want.”
“My feet stink. Your feet stink.” The effort he was going through to not share a bed with you was eating away at you. You’re sure he’s slept with his group mates plenty of times before, so what difference did it make?
“Oh my god! Fine, sleep on the floor.” You throw a pillow and one of his many plushies his way, turning on your side to face the wall. 
“Are you mad at me?” he asks from behind, his voice now quiet and careful. To be honest, you’re not quite sure whether you’re being serious or not.
You turn over to look at him, sitting on the edge of the bed, petting the plushie’s head.
“Kai,” you sit up. “Kai, look, I’m sorry. I’m not mad.”
“I feel like I’m always putting my foot in my mouth when I’m around you.”
“You’re not. I wouldn’t spend so much time with you if I didn’t want to.” You cup his cheek, running your thumb over one of his moles. “I promise.”
Yeonjun isn’t afraid to check you when you’re in the wrong, but Kai is too sweet to deal with any sort of confrontation. It’s something you’ve been having to adjust to lately.
“We can share the bed. I didn’t mean to make it seem like it was a bad thing,” he says. Sometimes you think he can read your mind.
“Okay,” you say, making room for him. He turns off the lamp and climbs in next to you, making sure to leave a big enough gap so he doesn’t touch you. Even in the dark, it’s obvious that he’s lying halfway off the mattress.
“You can come closer,” you say. God forbid he falls onto the floor in the middle of the night and it’s your fault for hogging all of the bed.
He moves inward, your faces so close that your noses are nearly touching. You could probably count his freckles from here.
Sure, every once in a while, you’ll lay your head on his shoulder or he’ll lay his in your lap, but this is much more intimate. Suddenly, your heartbeat feels too fast to fall asleep anymore.
“Y/N,” Kai whispers, although he already has your full attention. You like the way he says your name. His fingers grip your waist under the sheets, bringing you even closer. 
You tremble under his touch, his eyes locked on yours. This is a dangerous game.
In seconds, his mouth is pressed against yours, desperate and hungry. You’ve been kissed by boys before, but never like this. You can’t get enough of him.
You run your fingers through his hair, still soft even after several sessions of bleach. Like that night in the cab, you feel him hard against you, except now it’s intentional. It feels good.
Kai climbs on top of you, finding his way between your legs without breaking the kiss. You wonder how often he’s done this.
“We shouldn’t,” you breathe as he presses kisses along your collarbone, although it’s lost between your heavy sighs.
His hand grazes the waistband of your shorts. Visions of him doing the same with other girls—specifically the one from that morning—pop into your head. Panicking, you pull away from his kiss, using all of your strength to push him off of you.
“Y/N?” he asks, his lips puffy and his brows knitted in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to go,” you say, tugging down the hemline of your t-shirt, which had ridden up during the exchange. You hop off the bed and attempt to find your sneakers in the dark.
“Please don’t go,” he pleads with you, grabbing onto your wrist. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was stupid.”
You turn back to him, tears welling up in your eyes. “It was stupid?”
“No! That’s not what I meant. I just—I don’t want to do anything that could ruin our friendship. You mean too much to me, Y/N. I shouldn’t have kissed you, no matter how much I wanted to and no matter how good it felt.”
“It felt good?” you say, stepping towards him. It’s a relief to know he at least enjoyed it as much as you did.
“Really good,” Kai admits. “But it shouldn’t have happened. I can’t risk losing you.”
“Right.” It’s a really good point. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
“So… no kissing.”
“No kissing,” you agree.
“Anything else off the table?” He asks this in a way that you can’t tell if he’s flirting with you or not. You decide to take the risk and step closer to him. 
“I think cuddling is fair game. It would be too great a loss to our friendship.” You hold his hand.
“Mhmm, definitely.” He helps you climb back onto the bed before following suit, pressing his chest to your back, enveloping you in his warmth.
“You know, if I had you around in the wintertime, I’d save a lot on my heating bill,” you point out. 
“Go to sleep, silly,” Kai laughs, nuzzling his head into the nook above your shoulder. 
“Fine. Goodnight,” you yawn, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispers, although you’re already sound asleep, your soft snores filling the room.
—————-
When you wake up, Kai is gone. He’s left a note on the bedside table that reads: Went to get breakfast. Be back soon :-)
You stumble into the living room, rubbing your eyes as sunlight streams through the balcony doors. Yeonjun sits at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal and watching footage from the group’s latest dance rehearsal.
“Be honest, did you and Huening fuck last night?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Come on, Y/N. I heard some suspicious shit when I went to the kitchen to grab water and unless he’s doing some magical switcharoo, you’ve been the only girl around for the last few months.”
“Is this some weird cross examination? Are you going to compare my story to his?” You try not to smile at the notion that Kai has stopped seeing other girls, but it makes you giddy.
“I wish. He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Yeonjun huffs.
“Well, if you must know, we made out for a few minutes. I panicked. He panicked. We both agreed to never do it again. End of story.”
“That’s no fun.”
“It’s not, but it prevents us from doing something we might regret and breaking up the entire friend group.”
“Do you like him like that?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”
“It kind of does, Y/N. I’m pretty sure that boy is head over heels in love with you.”
The thought of Huening Kai being in love with you stops you dead in your tracks. Your Kai, secretly pining for your affection? You decide that it’s nothing more than a fantasy.
“That’s impossible,” you shrug. “It was just a moment of weakness between two friends. Nothing more, okay?”
Before you can discuss this any further, Kai is walking through the front door, coffee and pastries in hand.
“Y/N, you’re awake! I was scared I’d have to get you out of bed myself. Yeonjun was warning me how grumpy you are in the mornings.”
“She’s a monster,” Yeonjun says. You flick him on the side of the head. “Ouchie.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he giggles, unpacking enough doughnuts to feed an army. “I didn’t know which one you wanted, Y/N, so I just tried to pick ones I thought you’d like.” 
“I love honeydew, so you picked well,” you say, taking a bite of one with bright green filling. “Mmm! Where’d you get these?”
“Old Ferry Donut. It’s across town, but totally worth the trip. I go with my sisters all the time. You should come with us next time.”
“Ooh, introducing Y/N to the family. It’s getting serious,” Yeonjun teases. Kai shoots him a dirty look. He takes the hint, grabbing a couple of doughnuts on the way back to his bedroom.
“He can be such a dick sometimes,” Kai sighs.
“Yes, but he’s our dick,” you insist, trying not to let him ruin the moment.
“I suppose that’s true,” he laughs. It always makes you feel good about yourself whenever you manage to cheer him up. Usually, that’s his job with you. “I’d really like for Lea and Hiyyih to meet you, though. I think you’d all get along super well.”
“Then let’s set something up. I’m free all day,��� you say, your mouth full of food.
“Really, Y/N?” Kai asks. You nod in agreement and his eyes light up at your enthusiasm. “This is awesome! I’ll text them right now!”
Maybe, just maybe, he really is in love with you.
—————-
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P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don’t want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to keep things separate <3
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cosmicjiver · 2 years
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The sun and the star
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suguann · 2 months
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He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.
It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.
“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” 
“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 
The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.
He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”
“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.
Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.
Honestly, it’s that you—
(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)
It’s weird because it’s almost like you—
(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again. 
Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)
He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.
You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.
Sometimes, he wishes—
(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.
Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)
But you—
(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later. 
It slowly shifts and changes over time.
You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)
You really are—
(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.
It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place. 
He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.
“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”
When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.
“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)
“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.
“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.
“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”
“But yours.”
This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”
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Masterlist
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 6 months
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hate sex. rafe or drew idc, u have total creative freedom w my suggestion!
Hate Sex
Pairing - Drew Starkey x costar!reader
Summary - good old hate sex.
Warnings - sexual intercourse, fingering, language, choking, name calling. 18+
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The anger bubbled in your chest, rising up your neck leaving behind a dark pink tinge to your skin. You had never let Drew get to you this bad before, you were pulling at the roots of your hair just thinking about his punchable but good looking face.
“Breath Y/n” your friend stated, she had hidden herself behind the very small table in your trailer. She was quite frightened when you let your anger out.
She jumped halfway into the air when you threw your phone at the floor, shattering the screen in the process.
“Now look what that fucker has made me do!” You all but screeched, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to go and speak to him, how DARE he talk about you like that in an interview.
“Oh no no no, you can’t go speaking to him when you're this angry! He didn’t do anything wrong!” Your friend shouted, slamming her palm over her mouth when she realized what she let slip.
“How could you side with him?!”
“Oh come off it y/n, he said lovely things about you!”
“All very untrue things! He made me look like some weak girl who was falling at his knees.. no you know what I’m leaving!”
Before your friend could stop you, you darted out the trailer door and sprinted for him. Exactly 23 steps later your fist pounded at his trailer, you didn’t wait for him to answer and stormed in.
Drew stood in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his lower half, steam filling the very small shower. Both Chase and Austin sat on the couch staring at you with wide eyes, the sound of the PlayStation in the background echoed through the deafening silence from the four of you.
“What’s up y/n?” Drew sang, giving you his famous boy next door grin. You just wanted to rip his face off but also kiss his face off.
“How dare you?!” You yelled, Drew’s eyes creased together in the middle as he looked at you in confusion. “Want to enlighten me on what I’ve done now sweetcheeks?” He chuckled, stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door. Your eyes dropped for only a moment when a bead of water ran down his chest and dissolved into the towel.
He gave you a knowing look that you shook off. “What’s all that shit you said in the interview?” You questioned, he let out a throaty laugh. Almost a cackle. This had you wild, you stormed towards him with curled fists at your side. “Don’t laugh! You made me out to be some weak girl, talking about how I’m the main person who laughs at your jokes on set, that I always get emotional at old couples!” You shouted, the old couple remark was true.
You did get emotional BUT that didn’t give him the right to tell people, it’s your personal life, personality. They get what they get, they don’t need to know the deeper version of you.
“Y/n, Come on. I wasn’t doing it out of spite” he stated, he was frustrated now. You always jump on him the second you can, yelling down his throat and making him feel like everything he does is wrong. “I honestly don’t give a shit! Don’t talk about me in interviews again!”
He rolled his eyes and looked over your shoulder at your friends, they had both gotten up ready to bounce. They hated being around when the two of you fought.
“Don’t roll your eyes! God! Drew you're so frustrating!”
“Me?! Me, frustrating? You talk some shit y/n, your always down my throat”
“Because you're always being so difficult!”
“Maybe you should lighten up a little and realize I’m a decent human being and your just angry at the world”
“Fuck you Drew”
“No, fuck you”
It happens in a split second, you're both reaching for each other. Your lips hastily press together, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His hands cup your jaw, your tongues fight with one another. Even kissing, you have to be fighting.
“That’s our que” you heard from behind you, but you didn’t want to pull away. One of his hands drops from your face, grasping onto your waist he pulls you closer to his body.
“You're still annoying” you breathe, his lips trail down your neck. Sucking at the flesh between your collarbone and throat. Your nails scratched down the length of his back leaving deep red lines.
“You're still a bitch” he bit, pushing you towards the couch. Your back met the cushion with a thump, his body trailed behind closely. Parting your legs so he could slot between them.
You had forgotten he was only in a towel, which now parted giving you the most glorious view of his thick hard cock. “Shit” you whined, practically forcing his body down on yours. His hands bunched up your dress to expose your cotton thong, his cock nudged at your pussy.
“How can someone so annoying be blessed with such a perfect cock” you spoke, his chuckle was muffled by the skin of your chest.
“How can someone so frustrating be so fucking hot” he commented, his mouth left kisses along the apex of your chest. You pushed yourself to sit up, pulling the material of your dress over your head.
You now sat in just your panties, his hands palming at your breasts. “Fuck you” you moaned, his teeth pulling your hardened nub. Suckling at your nipple, while the other hand grabbed your ass cheek. “I’m getting their baby” he whispered, the pet name sending shivers down your spine.
“Touch me”.
His fingers dipped under the material of your panties, sliding his pointer and forefinger between your fold and back up to your clit. “Oh shit, yeah like that” you cried, grinding your pussy into his hand. Slipping his two fingers into your cunt, you bite down on his shoulder as he finger fucked you. Pressing the palm of his hand into your clit at the same time, sending your body into overdrive. “You like that? Of course the little bitch likes to be fingerbanged hm? Been thinking about these fingers inside of you huh?” He grunted, brows creased in the middle. He watched your face intently, the way your mouth dropped opened and you gasped for more breath.
“Answer me!”
“YES yes oh fuck yes! Wanted these fingers in me since I met you” you screamed, his dick twitching at your statement. Your moans bounced off the wall and you were sure everyone could hear.
He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, a slur of protest fell from your lips. “What the fuck Drew?!”.
“Get up and sit on my cock, quit whining and do what I say for once you little slut”.
The vulgarity to his words had your insides fluttering like a damn school girl, pulling your panties down and straddling his hips.
Reaching between the two of you to grasp his cock, giving him a rough few tugs. “Fuck… what I’d do to have your pretty little mouth around my cock right now.” He groaned, his head arched against the backrest of the couch. You began to slide off him, his hands catching your hips before you could get on your knees.
“Right now I want your tight little cunt to sit on my cock, next time I’ll stuff your throat with my cock and make you eat the angry words that you constantly spit out”.
Your ears pricked up at the next part, unbothered by the way he spoke to you. “Fuck you Drew” you spat, his large hand held the base of his cock for you. The tip of his bright pink head nudged at your opening, you took him in painfully slow. Your eyes rolling back as his cock stretched you wide, your hands pressed against his chest for leverage. “Oh-h… oh” you cried, his cock buried deep within your walls.
He gives you a moment to adjust, eyes staring hard at your expressions. The moment your eyes reopened he was bringing your body up and down on him harshly, causing a string of curse words to slip from your mouth.
Your tits bounced in his face, you finally brought yourself out of the sex daze you had fallen into and moved your hips, grinding against him roughly.
Your fingers wrapped around the base of his throat, his eyes were wild. Dark and full of lust, watching you gnaw at your lip. “That’s it pretty girl, fuck my cock like its best goddamn cock you’ve ever had”.
Your nodding your head in agreement, “the best fucking cock, so big” you cried, unaware you had just agreed to him. You were so drunk on dick, you had forgotten how much he irritated you.
“That’s right, best goddamn cock you’ve had. Show me how much you love it” he ordered, and you obliged. Riding him like your life depended on it, throwing your head back. Your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, his fingers grabbing your waist tightly.
“Fuck! Just like that!” He groaned, his hands caressed your back. Ducking his head to envelope your nipple into his mouth. “Yes yes yes yes yes” you mumbled, your bodies had a light sheen of sweat to it. “Move” he order, pulling you up from his cock only to spin you around. Pushing your knees into the cushion of the couch and thrusting his cock back into you.
“SHIT!” You cried, clawing at the back of the couch. His large hand pushed you down against the couch, putting one of his legs into the couch to give himself a better angle to fuck into you. “Yeah you like it rough huh”.
The angle of his cock had you in tears, overwhelming pleasure coursed through you. “Of course you like it rough, you’re a dirty angry slut” He could feel you where close, the way your pussy walls fluttered around him, reaching around to grasp your neck and pulling out of you. “DREW! You asshole” you cried, the pleasure that had building in your lower stomach fizzled out only to reignite when his fingers closed around your neck.
“Jump”
You did as order and wrapped your legs around him, he slipped his cock back into you. Moving you both just enough so your bum sat against the bench, ruthlessly he fucked into you. Squeezing his finger around your throat, your own hand coming around to grip his wrist, you screamed and cried in pleasure.
“You dirty little slut! Who knew you were more than just a whining bitch” he spat, pressing his lips to yours before you could fight back. Your fingers scratched up and down his back, the only way you could tell him he was an asshole.
“Drew” you warned, your pussy walls pulsating around his cock and you chased your high. “You're gonna come? Go on then pretty girl, come around my cock” he urges.
His hips move faster and deeper, dropping his finger between you to fondle your clit.
“Holy shit! Oh o-oh!” You cried, letting the overwhelming pleasure knock you over. Curling your toes and tightening your legs around him, your pussy pulsated around his cock. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders trying to ground yourself.
He wrapped her arm around your waist tightly and followed suit, coming deep inside of you. “Fuck fuck fucking hell”.
His sweaty forehead met your chest, both your breathing labored. A few moments of silent breaths go by and he pulls away from you, helping you down from the bench.
“This doesn’t mean I suddenly like you” you comment, stepping around him to collect your dress. Rushing into the bathroom to clean yourself up.
A few moments and words to yourself go by and you open the bathroom door; eyes searching the floor for your panties.
“Looking for these?” He questioned as you stepped out, holding onto your thong with his finger like a prize.
“Fuck you”
“Just did”
Taglist - @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @jjmaybankisbae
3K notes · View notes
its-your-mind · 8 months
Text
ALWAYS rotating TAZ: Balance around in my brain like microwave but ESPECIALLY with the announcement of The Suffering Game graphic novel
The dope thing they can do (and are doing) with the graphic novel series is sprinkle in moments of foreshadowing and hints to the reader about what REALLY might be going on here, which is so cool and I’m a huge fan of it, especially when you’re telling a story in this form.
But what is REALLY FUCKING TASTY about Balance as a story is that none of the motherfuckers telling it had any clue what they were doing when they started
Gerblins is dick jokes and not knowing how dice work and making fun of each other for voices. LICHRALLY the scene where Taako grabs the Umbrastaff is immediately proceeded by Clint trying different voices for Merle while Justin begs him to stop, as Taako. Merle gets launched across the room cuz he failed his save, and now Taako has an umbrella. The scene moves on.
Griffin brought them up to the BOB, introduced them to the Director, and gave them memories of a war fought over nameless, lost, powerful but mysterious artifacts. The memory that Taako takes from it is the idea of soured cream (ya know, for his taco quest).
And then they’re off, on different adventures, making friends, saving lives, making more dick jokes, and Griffin is in the background, slowly building in the meta-plot, as all DMs do.
But this meta-plot was HUGE. It was ALL-CONSUMING. It completely changes everything we know about this world and these characters. It takes the moments of dick jokes, and arguments about character voices, and flirting with death, and adds a layer of tragedy and complexity that just wasn’t present the first time they told that story.
AND THAT’S WHY THIS STORY KICKS ASS. The vibe of the story changed as Tres Horny Boys grew closer and closer to remembering the lives they had lost, as Griffin upped the stakes, as people started dying. They still don’t know shit for most of The Suffering Game, but you absolutely could not have predicted the tone of that arc after just listening to Gerblins. It sounds like a completely different story. And so when the other shoe drops, when shit breaks bad, when it’s the end of the world… again, and they have to reclaim their Stolen Century…
It makes sense. The tone has shifted enough to accommodate that kind of change. The characters have grown (back) into themselves enough to make this work.
Because TAZ: Balance is a tragedy. But the tragedy happened before the podcast even started, and had been erased. So of course it started off with goofs and dildo jokes. Of course the three of them started being standoff-ish with each other and making light of every situation that should have had a lot more weight. They didn’t know what they had lost, and we, the audience, didn’t either. So it was easy to laugh and joke… until slowly, it wasn’t so much anymore.
Plenty of people have praised Griffin’s storytelling abilities, but I think the thing that was most impressive to me was how he took the disparate threads laid out behind the Boys on their adventures, and followed them backwards, into the story they had lost, and forwards, into the ending they earned. I fucking love that he settled on Istus as the deity to interact with them, because I don’t think there’s a better representation of the story Griffin was weaving behind the scenes of the arcs.
Story and Song wasn’t really an arc driven by dice rolls and role playing - but it wasn’t railroading either. Griffin took every story they had told, every happy ending they had fought for, and twined them around and through each other. The world was saved not because of a lucky nat 20 roll, but because every person they had helped through the story came out in force to fight beside them to save their world.
And so in the end, the Stolen Century was a tragedy. But The Adventure Zone: Balance was a story of hope, of family, of the power that just a few loveable doofuses can have when they move through the world, making friends and saving lives. So when the world was ending and they needed help, there were dozens of people waiting to hear the Story and the Song that would give them the push they needed to fight, and the hope they needed to win.
3K notes · View notes
andvys · 9 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6
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Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.
Word count: 6k+
A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe &lt;;3
series masterlist
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Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up. 
He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.
How will he keep going? 
Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one. 
The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment. 
“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles. 
The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.” 
“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer. 
The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar. 
“Hey Tony.” 
Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling. 
“Hey Ed, how’s it going?” 
Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?” 
Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.” 
“With what?” 
Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.
“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.” 
“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve. 
“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?” 
Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is. 
“Get lost, freak.” 
“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.
Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness. 
“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back. 
Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read. 
“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either. 
Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales. 
It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room. 
Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave. 
Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about? 
Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing? 
How did you even meet him? 
You never even talked to him when you were still with him. 
“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.” 
Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.” 
“Tell your old man to come by too.”
“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves. 
Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie. 
“Hey! This is too much, kid!” 
“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there. 
Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up. 
“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes. 
Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van. 
“What do you want, Harrington?” 
Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.
“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him. 
Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?” 
Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”
“Why do you wanna know?”
Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now. 
“You’re the stoner.”
Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.” 
Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?” 
Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?” 
“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily. 
A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance. 
“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation. 
“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up. 
“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?” 
The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t. 
Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around. 
“Put those keys away, dude.”
“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion. 
“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”
Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson. 
“I’ll walk.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”
It’s not about that, it’s about you. 
Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance. 
“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.” 
Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van. 
Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”
Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on. 
“Your music sucks.”
“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.
Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot. 
The song takes him back to last year, back to you. 
“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap. 
“A Song?" He asked, chuckling. 
You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist. 
“Uh– probably, Heroes.” 
“By David Bowie?” 
“Yeah.” 
You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.
“Isn’t it sad though?” 
Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did. 
“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,
and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?” 
Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing. 
He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”
“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!” 
 “Then keep going.”
“No,” you giggled. 
“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips. 
“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang. 
You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed. 
“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.” 
“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat. 
Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest. 
Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve. 
“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like? 
Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie. 
“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van. 
Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.
Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew. 
He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault. 
He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little. 
“We’re here.” 
Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley. 
“I miss her.”
Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat. 
“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”
“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?” 
Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick. 
“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”
Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again. 
“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”
Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that. 
“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.” 
Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods. 
“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.” 
Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?” 
Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much? 
Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him. 
“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more. 
“Spit it out, dude.” 
Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm. 
“T-Take care of her?” 
Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.
“I will.”
Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit. 
He walks away when he feels like breaking down again. 
He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips. 
He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how? 
How? 
-
You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up. 
How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable. 
Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle. 
Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.
“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick. 
She hums, glancing at you through your mirror. 
Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave. 
“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?” 
“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.
She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray. 
“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.” 
Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie. 
“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”
You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”
“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.
“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face. 
“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”
“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her. 
She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.
You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face. 
“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night. 
You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you. 
She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.
The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.
The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones. 
Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave? 
“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks. 
You nod, smiling at her. 
“You seem a little overwhelmed.” 
“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.” 
“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes. 
Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned. 
“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.” 
He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.” 
“As always,” you snort.  
“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you. 
“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”
She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.
“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you. 
“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.” 
He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously. 
“Y/n?” Heather glares at you. 
“Have fun, babe.” 
You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it. 
You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates. 
A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup. 
“Hey.”
You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. 
“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”
You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing. 
He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness. 
“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch. 
“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.
“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse. 
He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”
You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it. 
You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away. 
You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him. 
You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink. 
You wish you would have stayed at home. 
You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks. 
You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.
His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened. 
He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly. 
None of it makes sense to you. 
If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened? 
Why is he still with her? 
Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along? 
The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill? 
Are they already going downhill? 
Is that why he told you he still loves you? 
So that he has someone to come back to? 
You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse. 
Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 
It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better. 
You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat. 
“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?” 
Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.
A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”
“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”
You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks. 
You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle. 
“You look beautiful, sweetheart!” 
He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” 
He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.” 
“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head. 
He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.” 
You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always. 
“You look amazing, Eddie.”
He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up. 
“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.
You can’t even help but giggle. 
“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance. 
He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”
Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?” 
He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes. 
“My knight in shining armor,” you tease. 
He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them. 
A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear. 
"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders. 
“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.
“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh. 
Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear. 
The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.
Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do. 
Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.
You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.
“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him. 
“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”
Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”
“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly. 
“Okay,” she smiles. 
When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him. 
But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden. 
His are filled with longing and sadness. 
Yours are filled with indifference. 
You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself. 
Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.
“Do you want to get out of here?” 
"Yes, please." 
next part
only tagging friends & mutuals
@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can
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rafeandonlyrafe · 29 days
Text
pizza night
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words: 2.2k
warnings: mentions/implications of sex but no actual smut, best friend!rafe, jealousy, angst but happy ending, friends to lovers, rafe with another girl, reader sleeps with kelce
“PIZZA NIGHT!” you shout, rafe letting out a whoop as you carry in the two boxes, plain cheese for you, and a mess of toppings for rafe.
“was worried you weren't gonna show up.” rafe glances at the clock. you're only about five minutes late, only running behind because the pizza place was busy and your order wasn't ready on time.
“as if i would miss our weekly pizza night.” you roll your eyes. you've had to shift times around occasionally to make sure you get the pizza night in, like for rafes football schedule, or you having to help your parents out at a fundraiser. for the past three years, it's been every thursday night, even both getting pizza from your respective locations while you facetime when you're not both in the outer banks.
“come here.” rafe opens his arms up to you. you step into his familiar hold, strong arms wrapping around you, tugging you against his chest. you inhale his scent, so uniquely rafe.
he's been your best friend for as long as you can remember, your parents being friends when both became pregnant around the same time. you did everything together. pizza nights started as plum puree, as your mom loves to joke.
“what do you wanna watch tonight?” rafe asks, knowing whatever you put on will soon become background noise to your chatting, rafe happy to listen to any gossip you have to say.
“umm…” you tap your finger against your chin as rafe plates your pizza for you, loading his plate with three slices for himself. you know he's already got your preferred drink sitting on the coffee table. “mulan.”
“sure.” rafe nods. he used to argue when he was younger. you'd want barbie swan lake or a romcom while he prefered superheroes and action. he learned throughout your friendship to just not fight it.
you immediately start to tell rafe the latest gossip, filling him in on everything he's missed since you saw him last, even though it was only two days ago.
“oh and you'll never guess!” you squeal. “callie, my friend from florida?” you see if the name jogs rafes memory, which he quickly nods. how could he forget. the one other friend that competes with him, despite you only seeing her for weeks at a time when you went to visit your grandparents in florida. “she's coming to the outer banks! she's gonna stay with us for the summer while her parents travel.”
“oh, nice.” rafe nods. he's happy for you, he really is, but he hopes she's not going to get in the way of his time with you, especially pizza night.
--
“girl, why didn’t you tell me rafe is hot as fuck?” callie giggles, looking out the window where rafe and a couple of his friends are chatting on the patio.
“ew.” you scrunch your nose up. you mean the criticism about callie finding him attractive, not about rafes looks, but callie doesn’t take it that way as she rolls her eyes.
“seriously, he’s so fine.” she slices into another lemon, handing one half to you as you squeeze it to make fresh lemonade.
you just frown. you don’t want callie to find rafe attractive and you’re not sure why the jealous feeling builds in your gut, so you quickly change the subject.
“wanna come to a party friday night? at kelces.” you question.
“oh my god, yes.” callie nods, helping you carry out cups while you bring out the pitcher of lemonade, pouring a glass for yourself and whichever one of your friends also wants one before sitting next to rafe.
callie takes the open spot on the other side of him as the conversation instantly strikes back up. you remain quieter than normal, eyes flicking between them as you watch them interact. you’re glad they’re getting along, truly, but you feel like gouging your eyes out when callie laughs and places her hand on his bicep.
“you okay?” rafe asks after everyone else had gone home, callie having taken your car back to your place to shower while you plan on asking rafe to drive you home.
“yeah.” you put on a wide smile. “whats up?”
“you just seem quieter than usual.” rafe watches your face carefully, noting the way your face falls before you perk back up with a shake of your head.
“nope, im fine. just glad you're getting along with callie!”
“speaking of…” rafe pulls his phone out, handing it to you. “can i have her number?”
“oh… yeah.” you nod quickly, grabbing his phone and typing in her number. you have it memorized along with rafes and your mom and dads, the only ones you’ve typed in enough to know by heart. “why do you want it though?”
“i thought i’d get to know her a bit.” rafe shrugs. 
“okay.” you force a smile on your face before standing up. “im gonna walk home. see you thursday for pizza night!”
“y/n, wait-” rafe tries to call you back, but you’ve already disappeared into the house.
--
you struggle to knock on the door with the pizza boxes in your arms. usually its unlocked, or rafe is there to open it for you the second your car pulls in the driveway.
“shit.” rafe opens the door, his face pale.
“what?” you shove past him, needing to set the cardboard boxes down.
you walk into the kitchen, going to place the boxes down on the counter when you realize there is already a box sitting there, opened up with a couple slices missing. you carefully slide the boxes out of your arms onto the marble before looking at rafe.
“i-i forgot-” rafe says as you look into the living room, seeing callie sat on the couch, her eyes on the television screen as she takes a bite of pizza. 
“you forgot about our pizza night?” you question, not even trying to hide your tears this time as they form in your eyes.
“i just didn’t realize it was thursday, y/n i-”
“its fine.” you shake your head, heading towards the door. you need to leave before your emotions explode. 
“y/n, please.” rafe grabs your hand right as you reach for the doorknob.
“no.” you turn around to look at rafe, knowing that there are tears streaming down your cheeks, yet you still attempt to force a smile. “no, go. have fun with her.”
you pull out of his grasp and leave, rafe standing on the front porch watching you drive away.
--
“coming to the party?” callie asks, wearing a tiny dress with high heels, showing off her flawless legs.
“nah.” you shake your head. “im feeling kinda tired.” 
“alright.” callie frowns, but doesn’t push you any farther as she walks towards the front door, looking back once before leaving. 
you are genuinely tired. you stayed up all last night waiting to hear callie arrive back at your house from rafes. she didn’t get home until 10 in the morning the next day. you know rafe has slept with girls before, but usually when he’s way too drunk after a party, and never with a girl you considered your friend.
you turn the tv on to a random channel, just needing something to distract yourself and stop you from crying again.
hours tick by as the sun sets, your eyes burning from staring at the television and holding back tears when a sudden knock on the door makes you jump.
you stand up, hoping its rafe, hoping he’s coming to apologize and to put all his attention back on you. you feel bad when you open the door and see its topper, your face no doubt giving away your disappointment.
“y/n, are you okay?” he asks. “you aren’t at the party.” he states the obvious as you stand in your sweatpants and a flimsy tanktop.
“just not feeling it.” you shrug. 
“is it… callie and rafe?” topper asks. he doesn’t need you to confirm as tears well in your eyes.
“i-i like him. i didn’t even realize until i saw them together.” you finally admit it to yourself why you’re so upset. 
“shit.” topper pulls you into a hug as you cry into his shirt, glad for his comfort as he rubs his hand up and down your back, hoping he can help you feel better.
“i shouldn’t be telling you this…” topper sighs. “but kelce has a crush on you. if you want to go to the party and… i don’t know, make rafe jealous back.”
“he won’t get jealous.” you shake your head. “he likes her.”
topper just stares at you with a look of pity. so in your head about your friendship that you can’t even put together the pieces that rafe likes you back.
you look down at your outfit. honestly, you can’t even manage to put on anything other than your crocs, you’re not going to change into a dress and heels just to dance up on a guy you don’t even really like.
“just come wearing that.” topper says, sensing your apprehension. “im serious, you look good. it’ll show how different you are then all the other girls there.”
you look back into your house at your couch, the tv still turned on before looking back to topper. he nods at you with encouragement.
“i need to get drunk immediately.” you tell him as he laughs, pulling you out the door.
--
you let out a groan as you turn over, snuggling into water warm body is wrapped around you as sleep slowly clears from your head.
“good morning, beautiful.” kelce says, making you blink your eyes open as the memories of last night come back, of ignoring rafe and callie dancing together as you move to kelce. topper was beyond right about the outfit as you captured the eye of most of the guys there, especially rafe as he tried to get your attention, but you were up in kelces room before he could steal you away.
it felt good to sleep with kelce, but not completely right.
“morning.” you smile. kelce is handsome, especially with the warm morning light shining in on the two of you, but your heart hurts as you wish it was rafes face you were looking into.
“can i have you again?” kelce asks, reaching down to grab your ass.
“yeah.” you nod with a smile. another distraction won’t hurt.
--
“where were you?” rafe asks as you arrive home, not expecting to see him snuggled up to callie on the couch.
“sleeping with kelce.” you say with a shrug. if rafe isn’t gonna hide his relationship with callie, you certainly aren’t going to hide what you were doing either.
“he doesn’t care about you, y/n.” rafe stands up, callies face shifting to one of worry as she looks between the two of you, realization sinking in. “he just wants to sleep with you.”
“okay, and?” you laugh, a bitter, spiteful laugh. “he’s got a big dick, and maybe i just wanted to sleep with him too.” 
you stomp away towards your room, blaring music from your speaker the second you’re inside. you don’t want to hear any noise rafe and callie might make as you flop down on your bed, quickly falling asleep despite the blaring music.
--
the music being turned down wakes you up as someone sits on your bed. you groan and turn onto your back, expecting to see rafe.
“callie?” you question, glancing at the bag slung over his shoulder and the suitcase sitting in your open doorway. 
you sit up quickly. “are you going to stay with rafe?”
“no.” she says with a gentle laugh and shake of her head. “im going back to florida.”
“what?” you question. 
“i didn’t mean to come between you and him. i thought you didn’t like him. i… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, so i’m leaving. he was fun to be with, but it was never serious for either of us. he’s serious about you.”
the words sink in as you look to her with hope in your eyes. “you talked to him about it?”
“i did.” she smiles with a gentle nod, glancing towards the clock on your nightstand. “the taxi is waiting outside to take me to the airport.”
you shoot forward to wrap your arms around callie, pulling her into a tight hug. “thank you.” 
“of course.” she holds you back just as tight. “come visit me in florida, okay?” 
you nod enthusiastically before she gets up to leave. 
--
“finally.” topper sighs with relief as he opens the door to tanneyhill. “i’ve been trying to get him to go over and talk to you for the past four hours.” topper pulls you inside before you can even react. “seriously, you guys just need to date already. he slept with callie, you slept with kelce, and now you’re even. go make out.” topper shoves you into the living room before fleeing.
it takes a second for rafe to look up, his eyes red with tears.
“i had no clue.” rafe shakes his head. “i had no clue you liked me. i never would have done anything with callie if i knew. i thought i’d never get to have you, so i thought settling for your friend would be the next best thing.”
“i don’t like you.” you say before quickly clarifying. “i love you, rafe.”
rafe is standing and making his way towards you so quickly that you don’t even process his movements until his lips meet yours in a fierce kiss.
you hesitate for a moment before kissing back, feeling his arms wrap around your body, holding you tight to him, not allowing you to escape or leave ever again.
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macabr3-barbi3 · 2 months
Text
CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)
Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282
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The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes
Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers
<3<3<3<3<3<3
Your new boss seemed stressed. 
Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.
You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 
Right over his head. 
He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 
He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 
“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”
“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”
God, but you wanted to be.
He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”
His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”
“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”
Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.
You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.
“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.
The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.
You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.
He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.
Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.
You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.
You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 
You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.
As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”
You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”
He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”
“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”
“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”
You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.
“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.
A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”
“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”
You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”
He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”
You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.
You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”
You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 
After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.
Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 
There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 
Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.
“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”
This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”
“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.
You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.
“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”
One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”
“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.
His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.
“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”
“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.
“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?
He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.
“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.
Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.
“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.
With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 
“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 
“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.
“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“
Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 
It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.
“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”
He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”
“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“
“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”
“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”
The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.
705 notes · View notes
loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
Steve knows that it’s Eddie from the way the RV door sticks awkwardly before it opens, which makes him smile. The guy can break in and hotwire the thing, as smooth as you like, but then apparently turns into a klutz as soon as the pressure’s gone.
Eddie doesn’t notice that he’s inside at first, seems more focused on tying a few makeshift spears together with string so they don’t fall about the place. It’s only when he looks up, does a double take and says, amused, “Sorry, didn’t realise I was interrupting something,” that Steve remembers he isn’t exactly cutting a fine figure right now.
To put it bluntly, he’s currently hunched over, sat at the little table, eating canned frosting with a teaspoon.
“What are you even…?” Eddie sits down opposite him, peers closer and sees the label on the can. “Harrington,” he says, like someone reading out orders of execution, “that’s fucking gross.”
“Hey, I found it sealed in the cupboard, it’s not expired. And it’s chocolate, man,” Steve defends.
A pause. “Can I have some?”
Steve laughs. “Sure.”
He finds another teaspoon, moves the frosting so it rests in between them. Smiles when Eddie knocks their spoons together, like they’re sharing wine instead.
They sit in comfortable silence. Steve has the sudden thought that if it wasn’t for the impending everything, he could pretend like it’s a lazy Saturday, where they’re free to do harmless, juvenile things, like just watching movies all day. Like sharing frosting out of the can.
“God, you’re so unbothered by all this, aren’t you?” Eddie says around his spoon, which makes Steve suspect that perhaps their thoughts aren’t exactly aligned at the moment. “Steve Harrington. Mister Cool.”
He says it softly, a little like Robin had—and Jesus, Steve thinks, did everyone in school have such an idea of him?
“Unbothered, meaning?”
Eddie shrugs. “Alternate dimension. Real life monsters. Uh, I dunno, the potential end of the world? Take your pick, man.”
Steve thinks for a little while, scrapes the bottom of the can repeatedly even though they’ve already eaten it all.
He doesn’t know how to say that over the years, fear has become normal, a reassuring background noise. It’s when he doesn’t feel it that he’s really, truly scared shitless.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Steve says, “I think we all just got so used to it, that—”
“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel better,” Eddie interrupts with a huff of a laugh. “If I think about it for too long, I might actually cry for you all, Steve.”
“Nah, don’t do that,” Steve says lightly—though he thinks that a part of Eddie really means it. “It’s more like… like I’m a duck, y’know? Calm on the surface, but…” He drums on the table in demonstration. “Freaking out underneath.”
Eddie’s looking at him with a little smile Steve thinks he hasn’t quite seen before—almost like he’s charmed.
He wonders just how many smiles Eddie Munson has. Wants to have enough time to find out.
“And you’re like an upside down duck,” Steve says, matter-of-fact.
Eddie snorts—another smile, wide and bright. “Excuse me?”
“Like, you might think you’re freaking out on the surface, but underneath, when it comes down to it, you’ll be…” Steve moves his hand in a straight line, imitating a duck calmly gliding along.
Eddie shakes his head. “Think you’ve got too much faith in me.”
And sure, it’s said like it’s a joke, but Steve holds his gaze when he replies seriously, “No, I don’t think so.”
You think I’d trust Dustin with just anyone? I saw you pull him back from the edge of the lake. That’s all I need to know.
Eddie glances away almost like he can see Steve’s thoughts dancing in front of him, as if the honesty is too much to witness.
“Plus you’re, like, my guide for what’s a normal reaction to all of this shit. You’re good for us, man. Keeps us grounded.”
Eddie laughs again. “Christ, I’m the guide for what’s normal. God help us all.” He drops his spoon into the empty can with a clatter. “It’s getting late. We’d better, uh. Round up the troops.”
He stands up, shuffles out from the table.
And Steve finds himself standing, too, with the sudden fear that he’s watching a window close before him.
He reaches for Eddie’s wrist—just two fingers, barely a touch—and Eddie turns to him immediately.
“Hey, Eddie, you’re—you’re good with them, y’know? The kids.” Steve laughs quietly. “God, they’d be… scared far sooner without you. When you were messing around with Dustin, and… Jesus, it’s the most I’ve seen Max laugh in a… in a while.”
Eddie’s smile turns gentle. “Nah, man. Any fool could do that.”
“No,” Steve says.
No, don’t you get it? Only you could. We’re all… we’re better with you, happier with you. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. Please fucking understand how important you are.
You matter.
Eddie’s eyes flicker across Steve’s face. Like he’s understood without Steve having to say a word.
“Careful there, Harrington,” he murmurs.
Steve’s suddenly aware that he still has one finger on Eddie’s wrist. “What?”
Eddie stares at him. Shrugs with one shoulder, but it’s slow. Thoughtful.
“Just thought I’d get ahead of you, in case…”
“In case?”
“I don’t know,” Eddie says, abruptly sounds a little breathless. “Could be the end of the world, right? And you’re…” He glances over at the frosting can, smirks slightly. “You’re kinda under the influence. Don’t want you saying anything you wouldn’t mean in any, uh, normal circumstances.”
Fuck normal. This is my normal.
“And what if I meant it?” Steve says.
Eddie swallows. Calm on the surface.
“If you’re sure,” Eddie says slowly, eyes never leaving Steve’s face. “Then… go ahead.”
Steve steps closer.
Kisses him.
Eddie’s mouth tastes sweet from the frosting. Steve can feel it when he laughs, can feel him shaking from where he’s leaning up against the edge of the table.
He pulls back. “You okay?”
Eddie’s smile is tremulous, like he’s one second away from crying.
“Freaking out,” he says, but he pulls Steve in for another kiss, so Steve knows he’s not referring to…
“Yeah,” Steve admits. “Yeah, me too.”
Eddie laughs breathily, and the sound is enough to finally drown out the background buzz of terror. He’s so close Steve can count every eyelash.
“You’d never know, Steve.”
“Think this—” A last kiss, pressed to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “Think this is the most scared I’ve ever been.”
“Me too,” Eddie echoes.
And just before he pulls Steve along, just before he opens the RV door and calls for everyone, he leans in close, whispers against Steve’s lips:
“Worth it.”
3K notes · View notes
ctrlchar · 4 months
Note
Could you do jake’s reaction to you getting nipple piercing please? x (can be whatever you want <3)
jakexgf getting nipples pierced
a/n:thank you for the request! I decided to add a little smut at the end as well 🤭
jake had been out and about with his friends leaving you in the house to your own devices. that being said an idea popped up into your head.
you’d always wanted to get your nipples pierced,knowing how good jake looked with his. that being said you text jake asking him when he’ll be home to which he replied
jakey<3:i should be getting back within the next hour or so what’s up?
you:oh nothing just wondering😊
jakey<3:right….🤨
jakey<3:i’ll see u when i get home babe
after your exchange you go into your closet finding a tight fitting shirt that shows your nipples poking through the thin fabric.
you change into some of jake’s sweatpants before you get into your car and drive to the nearest piercing shop.
you drive about five minutes until you reach your destination. you get out the car grabbing your purse before entering the shop
you walked up the the piercer at the front desk telling her you wanted to get both of your nipples pierced.
after you had paid you laid down on the table as she stuck the needle through your perky nipple and then through the other.
the pain wasn’t as bad as you had expected,the piercer then put on a silver barbell before getting up and walking towards the front desk where you paid and tipped her.
you grabbed your belongings before heading out to your car to show jake your freshly pierced nipples
hoping he wasn’t around his friends,you sent him a photo of you in your almost skin tight shirt,two barbells seen through the material
you could almost hear the shock through the screen as jake texts you back in an instant
you: *one attachment*
jakey<3:are you shitting me rn
jakey<3:did a guy do it?
jakey<3:i’ll beat his ass
jakey<3:send me another one
you:no baby it was a girl
you: same one i’ve went to for all my piercings
you:and give me one minute i’ll send you another
you laugh at his reaction through the screen,his attitude going from pissed to wanting you to send him another photo
you pull out of the parking lot and into an empty one. you carefully pull up your shirt,trying to not irritate the fresh piercing
you take a photo of your bare breasts and send them to jake
seconds later your phone buzzes and it shows jake calling you.
you quickly pick up the phone and put him on speaker before setting the phone down on the dash
you can hear other cars in the background therefore assuming he’s already in his car headed back home
“i’m so hard right now” he says making you giggle at his bluntness
“are you headed home?” you question as you fix your shirt back over your tits. judging by the acceleration of the gas you tell him “that’s not you’re car is it? you sound like one of those assholes who rev their engine up all the time ” you joke eliciting a chuckle from jake
“what can i say babe,it’s not my fault your tits look that good over the phone,can’t even imagine now good they’ll look in person” he says his hand on the wheel the other attempting to fix the tent in his jeans by adjusting his pants
you pull out the empty driveway deciding to head home yourself so you don’t make jake wait too long “yeah well remember you cant touch them yet we have to wait for them to heal” to which he groans “i know i know, I get it…i can still fuck em’ though right?” he pleas as he turns onto his street
“hmm” you say pretending to think as you drive “i’ll consider it”
jake lets out a fake sigh before informing you he’s almost home,with you doing the same. you tell him bye and that you’ll see him in a minute.
you pull into the driveway,your car right behind his. you park the car grabbing your stuff before heading into the house to be greeted by jake sitting on the couch the large erection still in his pants despite him trying to hide it
he shoots up from the couch,begging you like a child “lemme see lemme see” he begs staring at the metal through the fabric
“geez jake nice to see you too” you say lifting up your shirt “yeah yeah yeah” he mumbles completely enthralled with your breasts. he begins to grope them avoiding your nipple not wanting to cause you any discomfort
“fuck” he mumbles under his breath “these are gonna be the hardest couple months of my life”
“can i fuck em’ please” he begs his voice needier then before.
“fine” you say “can we at least get to the bed first?” to which he nods eagerly,grabbing your hand and guiding you to your bedroom.
he laid you on the bed as he quickly made use of his hands by taking off his jeans,leaving him in his shirt and boxers. he got onto your lap before taking his hard cock out of his boxers.
you held your tits closer together as he slid right in between them. you made sure you could see the piercing in between your fingers. which was evident to jake as he kept alternating his eyes from the piercing to you back to the piercing
“your so hot mama” he moans out as he fucks in between your tits. he places on of his hands on the back of your head for support as he continues his movements
you see the tip of his cock disappearing between them with each thrust of his hips,especially now,his thrusts getting sloppier as he feels close
“gonna cum” he groans out as he begins to slightly grip your hair eliciting a soft moan from you. you could practically feel his cock twitching from between your tits
and just like that he came,all over your chest right above your tits,some of it going in between them as he fucked himself through his orgasm which was the absolute hottest thing to him.
he then pulled himself up and back into his boxers. he gathered up some of his cum onto his finger before putting it up to your mouth to which you open. you begin to lick a stripe up his fingers,slowly sucking on them in the process.
he slides off your sweatpants,which were actually his, and with his free hand he takes his other out of your mouth and slowly slides it into you
“gonna make you feel good now okay baby?”
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darnell-la · 5 months
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Do you cream or squirt?
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word count: 2.4k
pairing: sub!dom!steve harrington x nervous!reader x dom!eddie munson
note: please comment, like, repost and follow us for more. we’d also like if you guys could message us some ideas for our next book. we getting active!
WE DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANY COPIES OF THIS OR ANY OTHER OF OUR STORIES!
————————————————————————
3rd person pov
“Oh, I know you’re not talking about lasting long, Munson. Didn’t you just have a 10-second jerk-off session last week?” Y/n brought up a story he had told her and Steve a few days ago. 
“That doesn’t count! I was being edged,” Eddie said, remembering how hard that day was for him when they were all out at the mall. Thinking back on it only angers him. 
“By what? Magazines?” Y/n laughed with Steve as Eddie cliched his knuckles until they turned yellow. “Chill, it’s just a joke,” Steve said. “Jokes? Okay, well, how about you tell us about the day you creamed your pants when you know who showed up at the pool last year,” Eddie said. 
Y/n hasn’t heard of this story yet, and Steve planned to keep it that way. “Oh my god, because of who?” Y/n asked, really wanting to know who it was. She’s too nosy, and that nosiness is a lane she probably wouldn’t be able to process or handle. 
“Was it Nancy!?” She shouted, making Eddie laugh. “Oh, it sure wasn’t Nancy. It was someone way hotter than that,” Eddie locked eyes with Steve, trying to push Steve’s buttons since he constantly clowns Eddie with y/n. 
“It’s no one,” Steve said as he broke eye contact with Eddie and flopped back on Eddie’s beg, getting his head lightly against the headboards. Eddie and y/n laughed at Steve’s clumsiness. 
“Oh, cmon’ Steve! How bad did you cream your pants, that you don’t want to tell me? I’ve heard worse. Trust me,” y/n said. 
“How about you ask Eddie since he’s the 10-second man,” Steve said. “It’s not like he didn’t rub one off after,” Steve started getting personal, and y/n knew it. She loved this side of them. It was so fun. 
“Cmon’ bestie! Tell me about your 10-second mission. Don’t gotta be embarrassed,” y/n looked at Eddie as Steve chuckled in the background, knowing Eddie didn’t have the balls himself to tell her. 
“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie replied. “Oh, now it doesn’t matter!? That’s hilarious!” Steve laughed as y/n rolled her eyes. “C'mon’! It’s not that serious,” y/n needed to know. She hates not knowing things. 
“Hey, since you like these dirty secrets, how about you tell us yours, huh?” Eddie began getting defensive. “Like what, Eddie?” Y/n asked because her sex life has always been boring, and they know this. 
“Tell us if you cream or squirt,” Eddie fought back. Steve’s jaw dropped at the demand. He would love to know to make his fantasies more realistic, but having it asked so randomly, shocked him. 
“What? Fuck no! That’s different,” Y/n said. “No, it’s not. We’re all besties here, right? I tell you when I get my cock suck, and you can’t even tell me if you cream?” Eddie said, shocking y/n to the core. 
“It’s not important,” the young lady said, not wanting to tell them about herself like that. “Oh, now you don’t want to share secrets? C'mon’, tell me. It’s all fun and games after all, right?” Eddie said, locking eye contact. 
“I- I can’t just- Guys, I can’t just say things like that,” she said. “Why not? It’s not like we’re gonna judge you, ain’t that right Stevie?” Eddie asked Steve. “Yeah, of course not,” Steve said as y/n tried making herself comfortable on Eddie’s bed. Now she’s nervous and they can both tell. 
“Besides, whatever you say will be hot either way,” Eddie said, definitely shocking y/n. Yes, they all flirt, but during a time like this? She’s never experienced it. Ever. 
“C'mon, princess, it’s not that hard. Squirter or creamer?” Eddie asked as he shifted himself closer to Y/n, pressuring her to tell them and to make her feel a type of way. Maybe he can pull off what he’s been thinking about for a while now. 
“I- I uh, I cream a little but I call myself a squirter. I uh, I usually squirt a lot though. A little too much,” y/n nervously said. Eddie clapped his hands as Steve’s jaw dropped again. He can’t believe she told them. 
“Well, look at that. It wasn’t so hard, right?” Eddie asked as y/n nodded her head hesitantly. “Now, why have you been hiding such a thing from us, hm?” Eddie asked as he laid a finger on y/n’s thigh. 
“B-Because I didn’t think it was uh, it was something serious,” she replied. “Well, now you know, and you know not to keep any more secrets from us, right?” Eddie asked. “Y-Yes,” Y/n said. 
“Yes, what?” Eddie asked, shocking y/n all the way now. “What?” She asked. “Yes, what, y/n? You know what I want to hear,” Eddie said as his fingers trailed to her inner thighs. Steve stayed in the back in silence, growing hard at how nervous y/n was. 
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Eddie. Like, what are we even doing right now?” Y/n said as she tried pulling Eddie’s hang away but he kept his position. 
“I think it’s pretty unfair how much you make us cum to only the thought of you when you could have been cumming on our cocks like you say you can,” Eddie said. 
“What!? Eddie, I- I don’t know what’s going on but-“ y/n tried saying. “I want you to show me how much that pussy comes,” Eddie began leaning over y/n. 
The girl leaned back, trying to avoid body touch until she realized she was leaning back into Steve. She went to get up, but Steve pulled her up close to him as Eddie got comfortable over her. 
“Don’t panic, sweetheart. We just wanna feel you, okay?” Steve whispered in the girl's ear. “Guys, wait! We can’t be- I can’t do this,” she said. “And why is that? Afraid you’re gonna soak my bed? It’s fine, doll face. I’ve wanted that for years,” Eddie said. 
The metal head made his movie and connected his lips to y/n’s. She instantly melted into the kiss as Steve snaked his hands around her and groped at her tits. 
“You like this, baby? Just say red if you don’t want this,” Steve said as he began touching the girl, eventually gathering himself to pull her shirt up and let her tits free, out of her bra. 
“S-Steve,” y/n moaned at the boy's pinch around her nipples. “I-I can’t guys. I just can’t,” the girl whined at this new feeling. No one has ever played with her tits like this. 
“Yes, you will,” Eddie pulled away from their kiss and began tugging at her skirt. “Wait- Wait, Eddie, you can’t- Wait, no, I don’t- Eddie,” y/n didn’t know what to say. 
“Ssh, doll face. Let me feel your cunt. You’ve been making me wait for so long,” Eddie slightly whined as he kept tugging at her clothes while he pulled his loose jeans and boxers down, just enough for his rock-hard cock to spring out. 
“Just look at him, y/n. He’s begging for it,” Eddie pouted, finally getting y/n’s skirt off. “Little panties? You were right earlier, Steve. They are pink,” Eddie looked up at Steve, already close to cumming, just by touching her nice-sized tits. 
“You know, you’re not so slick wearing all of this around us. Don’t tell me you're wearing this shit, not to be noticed by one of us and used. They’re just so — pretty,” Eddie traced a finger up along her clothed wet folds. 
“Never knew our bestie was a whore. You wanted us to stuff you, hm? Just tell me, princess. Tell me you’ve always wanted this,” Eddie began slowly pulling her panties to the side. 
“Fucking say it, or you’ll regret making me wait,” Eddie threatened as he ripped her panties clean off. “I’ve always wanted this!” Y/n cried out. Eddie saw a drop of bodily fluid leak from her cunt as she spoke. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna fuck you ‘till you can’t breathe,” Eddie said before making his way in between the girl's legs. “Eddie,” y/n said low, still not knowing if this was right. 
“Let him use you, sweetheart. Don’t wanna make us mad, right?” Steve asked as he pinched down harder on her nipples, making her cry no. “No!” She whined as her back arched. Eddie hadn’t even slipped in yet. 
“Now, let’s see if you were telling the truth. Don’t hold back on me, Angel,” he said before pushing at her entrance. Eddie pushed forward until he was completely in the whiny girl. 
“Wait!” Y/n cried out at the sudden feeling of being filled. She’s never felt so full in her life. “E-Eddie,” y/n gripped the long-haired boy's shoulders as Steve shifted his hips. Fuck, he’s close. 
“Too much,” y/n got out as Eddie pulled back, but thrust back in, to stretch her out enough before he did what he wanted with her. “Get used to it, or you’ll just be crying on my cock,” Eddie said, inches from her face as he pulled back out, then slammed right back into her wet hole. 
“P-Please!” Y/n begged as she felt herself soak his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck her. “Eds!” Y/n moaned as tears streamed down her face. “I’m so full,” he cried as Eddie smirked and Steve groaned in her ear. 
“When I tell you, she’s a tight one, Harrington. I fucking mean it. She’s sucking me in like a fucking fleshlight,” Eddie groaned as the sound of his balls slapping against y/n’s ass, filled the room. 
“Agh,” y/n’s eyes rolled and her head fell back. “A-A lot, Eds, a lot!” Y/n cried as she felt herself clinching around Eddie like she’s never done before to a cock. He can’t believe it. He can’t believe how dick drunk she’s been for him all this time. 
He let that thought sit in his mind as he picked his paste up to fuck her harder. Why did she keep this from them? All the times they’ve gone to the bathroom in public to rub one off, knowing she would have been so easy to get on her knees and suck them dry. 
“You’re in for it, y/n,” Eddie growled in her ear as he connected a free hand of his to her neck, tightly. “Eds! Eds!” Y/n cried in pain and pleasure as her walls clenched around his veiny cock before she finally exploded. 
“Eddie!” She moaned loud as her cunt released everything Steve and Eddie needed. Y/n’s head stayed back and eyes stayed fucked out as Steve still played with her tits and Eddie pumped into her like he’s never fucked before. 
“P-Please,” y/n begged for mercy as one hand reached up at Steve’s hair and the other to Eddie’s. “Please fuck me,” she begged, feeling another orgasm around the corner. 
“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned with a chuckle, as well as Steve as Eddie connected his last free hand to y/n’s waist. “You wanna take me now, baby? Wanna suck me fucking dry of my cum? What a fucking slut. I bet you made Steve cum already, hm?” Eddie asked as he looked behind y/n. 
Steve nodded his head fast with a whine, still grinding against y/n’s back like a starved sex slave. “Gonna fill this cunt up, baby. You have no fucking choice,” Eddie slightly moaned as his thrusts got sloppy. 
“Fucking hell, I — Baby, I- I’m cumming,” Eddie moaned in y/n ear, not noticing but tightening his grip on her neck and waist. She couldn’t complain though. Y/n loved the feeling of his grip on her neck. 
“Holly fuck!” Eddie whined as his hips bucked a few times. His cum leaked from the weak girl's hole as Steve dropped his head back onto the headboard. 
“Agh,” y/n moaned as she tightened around him again. This time he pulled out and let her squirt all over his lower body and bed. “Fuck, that’s a lot, baby,” Eddie groaned as he disconnected his hand from her waist and rubbed her folds, making sure everything comes out. 
“Mhm,” y/n shifted. She’s never been this overstimulated before, and they can tell. “You fucking like that?” Eddie leaned towards her face, hand still tight around her neck. “Should I fuck this pussy full again?” Eddie asked, but y/n couldn’t speak back. 
“I will,” Steve said. “Oh, shit,” Eddie chuckled as he got up. Steve moved from under y/n, showing how weak and limp she got. She still leaking her and Eddie’s cum. 
“You just lay there and look cute. I’ll do the work,” Steve moved y/n on the bed, the way he needed her as Eddie sat right next to her face. “Hey, I’m still hard. Put that pretty mouth to use,” Eddie looked down at y/n as she struggled to keep her eyes open. 
“Wait, wait. Baby, what color do you say when you need a break?” Eddie asked as Steve stroked himself in front of her entrance. “R-Red,” y/n slurred. “Should we go red?” Eddie asked, slightly worried. 
“No. I just wanna be fucked,” y/n said low as she looked up at Eddie. “Don’t worry, doll face. You will,” Eddie said right before Steve shoved his cock into her already wet and used cunt. 
As y/n moaned loudly, Eddie used that chance to push his tip into her mouth. “So fucking- oh my god,” Steve’s legs began to shake at the amazing feeling of his best friend's cunt so wet and tight around him. 
“That’s it, baby. Suck me up,” Eddie rubbed y/n cheek as he lazily thrust into her mouth. “You’re our personal whore, you understand? No more of these wacky links. You’re ours,” Eddie made rules. 
“And if you disobey anything we give you, princess, you’re fucking dead,” Steve said. “Understand?” Eddie asked, but y/n just looked up at him. She understands, but what will they do if she doesn’t comply. 
“One chance is all you get,” Steve said as he grabbed y/n’s legs and pushed them back, causing him to fuck into her cunt deeper at a new angle. “Fuuuck!” Y/n cried as the clapping and gagging noises in the room grew. 
“You’re so fucked,” Eddie chuckled as he leaned over a little bit to rub y/n’s sensitive bud. “Agh, no!” Y/n cried at the feeling of everything. Even Eddie’s cocky pushed further into her throat after he leaned over and Steve picked up his paste, causing her body to jolt back into Eddie’s cock. This is definitely all she wanted. 
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essentiallyleaf · 7 months
Text
day 19. rimming. with. haewon.
723 words.
tags.
kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, haewon is haewon, what else is there to say, rimming, handjob, writer is the moon knight meme in this one.
notes.
im out of (barely) good ideas and im panicking. fizzlingoutly, leaf.
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You didn’t think it’d be so easy getting from Haewon’s overlip leaving pink-leaning-orange (she keeps insisting she’s a cool tone, but hm, is she really?) marks on her coke glass to the same lip imprints circling your butthole as she leaves wet kisses all around it. No, it was just a quick exchange, like she was choosing what to have for lunch at Subway.
“Wait, you’ve done this already, right?” You ask her, not without a little worry.
“Nah, have you?” She spits back casually.
“I thought you were the one who ate ass and wanted me to be your mate?! You know, mate in the, Brit sense, not in the… scientific sense.” That was more complicated than it needed to be.
“I dunno, I’m just tryna have fun.” She shrugs.
The correct answer, like in the Subway situation, is to not find yourself there, but if for some reason you do, might as well try to make the best of it. And the best of it, in this case, supposedly consists in Haewon’s hands keeping your thighs wide open as you lay on your back while her tongue takes a few short, explorative trips from your testicles, down to your perineum, applying a little pressure on it, and to the edge of your puckered hole. She brings her fingers up to your previously lubricated shaft to stroke it from time to time, but your groans when she does make them retreat immediately, reminding her that no, that’s not the main dish tonight.
It feels a little weird, having something touch you down there, but when that something has the soft, smooth texture, the expert dexterity and the cunning wit of Haewon’s tongue, well, then it’s probably Haewon’s tongue that’s when weird falls into the background to make space for pleasing, as testified by your whimpers, starting sparse and now becoming more and more frequent. That’s enough evidence for the girl to deduce that it’s time to go in, and when she does without any sign of warning, the only thing that can reasonably come out of your mouth, after a loud moan, that is, is a “Fuck you!”. That’s fair, she thinks, as she keeps attacking the inside of your cavern, and fair is the answer that you receive.
“That’s only gonna happen later, be patient”
Haewon starts circling all around the inner edge of your hole, making you bring a hand to your mouth to try to contain your own groans, or worse, screams. How does the joke bear get to this? How does she go from acting as the loser girl transferring schools in 7th grade for shits and giggles, to having you struggle to keep your shit together in your own bed because she wanted to, and this should be more or less the exact quote, “tongue-punch your bussy, you little boy bitch!”? Maybe sometimes it’s better not to ask. Other times, you don’t really have the physical capability to ask because your ‘friend’ (an umbrella term, but the most appropriate one to describe the two of you, you think; again, sometimes it’s better not to ask) is alternating between pumping her tongue deep in your asshole and wrapping her lips around its entrance to suck all the air out of it. Those times, the hand that was keeping your mouth closed becomes an object just like any other to bite onto, because now it would be screams. Those times, making the best of it is letting Haewon play with her toy and focusing on not letting the whole neighborhood know about it. Not supposedly anymore.
So when the final thrusts of her tongue hit you where it pleases the most, both of her hands back on your length and stroking, the only thing you can do is wail onto your own hand while you watch spurts upon spurts of white fly up in the air and back down on your abs, the muscles of your ass flexing repeatedly around her tongue. Lay your head back down onto the pillow and let yourself catch your breath again as you spread your arms open on the bed. Not even a minute, and she’s already taking her zip-up sweater and ripped blue jeans off and throwing them on the ground.
“Come on, fucker, what did you think the main dish was?”
-
footnotes.
maybe the formula is just sleep schedule plus work ethic, times effort. mathematically, leaf.
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kenzisthings · 1 year
Text
𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 (𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
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it’s hard to be in a relationship when your siblings don’t like your boyfriend. especially your older sister mindy. being the youngest meeks-martin had its ups and down. and one of the downs is trying to get your sister to like ethan, your boyfriend.
“i don’t get it chad, she acts like ethan is going to slice me up and kill me.” chad hits you with a “really” look, making you sigh. “ok bad wording, but you know him! he’s your roommate. the dorky roommate who couldn’t even talk to me.” you flop down next to your brother on sam and tara’s couch. chad nudges you and grabs your hand. “look y/n, you have too understand why mindy feels this way. you’re our little sister. we can’t lose you.” you were just about to respond until your phone goes off. you pull it out you pocket and smile when you see ethan’s name and a picture of him anf you on your first date.
“answer loverboy, i’m going to go see if they need any help in the kitchen.” chad gets up and walks towards the kitchen where the rest of the gang was. you slide accept on the phone. “hey e, i was just about to call you. are you close?” you ask, you can hear the busy streets of new york in the background. “yeah i’m like five minutes away, uh i just called to make sure it’s okay im still coming over.” you giggle at your boyfriend. “of course it is why wouldn’t you think so?” you hear ethan sigh and take a breath, “well y/n it’s no secret that mindy doesn’t like me, and quite frankly i’m scared of her.” that makes you laugh. “hey it’s not funny. she can be mean.” you can hear the pout through the phone. “it’s going to be all good, i promise.” ethan reluctantly sighs, “ ok, i’ll see you soon.” you smile even if he can’t see it. “ok bye sweets.”
you hang up the phone and walk towards to kitchen, to see the sam, mindy, chad and tara looking at you in silence. “god who died in here.” you joke which receives a smack on the arm from chad. “oh nothing just talking about you and your romantic lover.” tara says in a sing songish way, making you giggle. you sit down and look at your sister who just glares at you. “oh come on mindy you still can’t be mad i invited ethan.” she scoffs and rolls her eyes. “y/n what have i told you. never trust the love interest!” you shake your head especially because she being hypocritical about this. “oh yeah how about you and your girlfriend, huh?” you retaliate. “ hey my girlfriend isn’t a werid, antisocial, nerdy boy who could be a killer.”
“who’s a killer?” you all turn around to see your boyfriend standing there awkwardly. “nobody’s a killer ethan, although i’d kill for this conversation to be over.” sam jokes but nobody laughs. you look at mindy who’s just staring at ethan and it makes you angry. angry that your own sister can’t trust your boyfriend or you. standing up put the attention on you, “hey tara can me and ethan talk in your room?” tara smiles at you and shakes her head yes. you start walking towards ethan and towards tara’s room. “make sure you keep the door open i don’t want any funny business!” mindy tells you making you give her the middle finger in return. “you don’t think there fucking do you?” mindy asks the group but their silent. “oh they are definitely sleeping together.” chad whispers underneath his breath shuddering as he remembers what he walked into last week going back to his dorm.
you lead ethan through tara’s and go to the door and lock it. you then go and sit on her bed and pat the spot next to you offering it too ethan. which he accepts and sits next to you. “how much did you hear.” ethan shrugs, “oh you know that i’m a werid, antisocial freak who’s also a killer. the usual from mindy.” you sigh and lean your head on his shoulder, to which he puts his arms around your waist. “i’m sorry e, i really am.” he kisses the crown of your head. “it’s ok y/n. she’s just trying to keep you safe.” you laugh how could he be so understanding and sticking up for a women who hates him.
you lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart beat for a few moments. “i know it’s hard for her to accept that i’m an adult now but it’s hard when your sister doesn’t like the boy you love.” you can feel ethan’s heart start to pick up as you said that, making you wonder if you said something wrong. you raise up from his chest to see him looking at you with those brown puppy dog eyes you love so much. “you love me?” you giggle and lean into his face to where your just mere centimeter from his lips. “of course i love you. i love the way you stutter when your flustered or the way you can go on about your favorite tv show. how i can be stuck on any subject and you always help me. i love the way you look at me like i’m the only person in the world, like it’s only us.”
ethan leans in closing the small gap in between you and kisses you. it’s a soft reassuring kiss. a kiss you want to last for ever but sadly it can’t. you pull away and rest your head against ethan’s. “i love you too and i would never hurt you.” he whisperes. you find it weird that he would say he wouldn’t hurt you but you brush it aside not to ruin the moment.
because of course he would never hurt you.
right?
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eveningepiphany · 1 year
Text
lessons | H.S
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my masterlist <3
summary: sitting on harrys couch, he gets it out of you that you have never intimately touched someone else, and he offers straight up for you to learn off him.
warnings: SMUT, m receiving handjob and blowjob, heaps of dirty talk and praise, gentle dom! harry, virgin! y/n
a/n: I have to be up early in the morning so I haven’t done a final proofread since it’s nearly midnight, so sorry for any mistakes. this trope with h makes me weak at the knees 😵‍💫
———
“No way…” His tone is hard to dissect, it’s filled with emotions.
You purse your lips, looking to the grey of his couch beneath you— immediately regretting admitting the truth to him.
He’s your best friend, but god you do not venture into territory like this. Hence his shock, and disbelief at the admission that had come out of your mouth.
You were close next to his side while chatting that evening, a romantic comedy playing unnoticed in the background.
He joked briefly about himself, something about his… size. You hardly recall what he’d exactly said about it, other than him remarking about how ‘large’ he is.
Your eyes widened at the words, and he smiled a bit at the reaction.
It’s rare he gets to see you flustered, and if an opportunity has presented itself he can’t help but use it.
“What? Does that rile you up a bit?” He’d smirked, green eyes trying to find yours.
“No!” You’d hissed, glancing at the TV.
“Why’d you go all shy then?”
“Because you’re talking about your dick, and I don’t wanna know!”
He laughed at your rushed response, “anyone would’ve thought you’d never seen one in your life.”
Your response is delayed, in all truth you had— briefly, an unwanted showing at a college party, one of your ‘friends’ drunkenly trying to get in your pants. He’d pretty much flashed you before you got the fuck out of there. So how much it counts, is more the part you were hardly sure about.
“Of course I have.” You’d said, trying with your all to sound convincing— like as if you’d done more than just see one.
But the energy had shifted the second you’d paused, and the words pouring out your mouth were not helping your case.
“Wait— have you not actually seen a dick bef—“ his brows were furrowed, lips quirked, still unsure how serious you were until you cut him off.
“God, no— yes— shut up!“ you’d cupped your hands over your eyes, wishing to go back and just laugh at his stupid joke instead of getting all flustered and ending up here.
“You haven’t?” He pushed a more little.
A sigh had pushed out your nose in defeat, “hardly.”
So now it leaves you here, staring anywhere but at him as he mutters a ‘no way’ to you.
You felt more than embarrassed, you were mortified at this point. You and Harry had been friends since your first year of primary school, so to have him find out something you have kept to yourself for so long and was so personal was terrifying.
Having never really covered this topic with you, he was undeniably curious, “so you’ve never touched one…?”
“You’re making this so much worse.” You scrunch your eyes closed.
“Ok… so that’s a no.” He laughs a little, and all you could do was nod. He nudges you with his shoulder. “Hey, yknow it’s ok right? M’not judging you or anythin’”
You take a careful glance to see his expression, it’s sincere and you take in a careful breath.
“I know. It’s embarrassing though.” You advert your gaze back to a thread on the soft fabric of your sweatpants.
“S’not embarrassing love, I was just surprised. You’re a gorgeous girl— y’know I think that— so I just assumed some guy was lucky enough to have been with you— intimately that is.” He says casually, then adding, “and y’ve had a few guys, so I just thought…”
Your stomach fluttered at his compliments, even though he never shied away from giving them to you.
“Those relationships never lasted long enough for us to, uh, get to that point.” You clarified, clearing your throat.
“I don’t wan’ you to feel uncomfortable, or like I forced you into talkin’ ‘bout it by the way.” He quickly clarifies, “jus’ was curious, is all.”
You find the courage to lock eyes with him again, “i wish I wasn’t so… inexperienced— I really do. But it’s beyond the point of awkward when people find out, you know?”
You were on a rant now, he’d officially opened the door to all your thoughts, “and now it’s like, I have no real way to learn. Unless I go out and hookup with a random, but I’m not desperate enough for that yet— nor comfortable with the idea.”
“And being a uh, a virgin this late in college is— not really common. So automatically people kind of get weird about it.”
He wished he could say the hardening of his cock was just from the fact they were talking about sex— and that he had been sticking to his hand for a while now— but he knew that the real reason was much more related to you, which he felt almost guilty about. You sitting here opening up and all his prick can think about is how gentle and unsure your hands would be around him.
Keyword being almost.
“Y’know you can always touch me… right?” The words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them, a vague innuendo laying between each syllable.
“I- pardon?” You stuttered, uncertain if he meant what he just said in the way your brain had processed it.
“Like, if you ever want to learn or do anything. I’m here.”
Your eyes fell to his groin without a thought behind it, and you could see he was perked up in his sweats. He watched immediately as your gaze travelled down there.
“Just an offer. Don’t have t’take up on it now— or ever if y’don’t wan—“
In the few seconds of him talking you’d got a rush of confidence to do this. He’s practically handing himself to you on a silver plater.
“Can I?” The words were a fast question, a lingering hope behind them.
He almost groaned at them, the fact you were comfortable enough to be seemingly following through with his offer.
“‘Course you can, darling.”
You shuffled a little next to him, reaching to brush your hand over the fabric covering his groin, watching as he lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down.
You did it carefully, and your lips parted with a little gasp as his cock slipped out— he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
The tip of him was flushed to the same colour of his lips, and he wasn’t kidding about his size. At the base he had neatly trimmed hairs with a tiny curl to them.
You glanced back up at him, unsure what to do now. You almost had whiplash, because a minute ago you have never thought you’d see— let alone be able to touch his cock— and now you seem to have freedom to do whatever you please with it.
“S’alright darling, touch me however you want.” He reassured you, pressing his shoulder into you again. Solidifying the fact you really could do whatever you wanted with him.
Your hand hesitated a bit as you reached out to run a gentle finger on the underside of him.
Your hands were so fucking soft, softer than he even imagined, so he knew already this was going to kill him.
Going off the only kind of sexual experience you had— which is obviously with yourself— you didn’t want to be too gentle, so you wrapped your hand around the base of him and gave an experimental pump of his cock.
He groaned at the contact, not expecting it in the slightest. You were surprised at the sound that you’d just elicited from him, and the way he jutted his hips up to your touch.
“Fuck, sorry.” He carefully apologised, not wanting to scare you off. You were anything but scared though, more so fascinated, and frankly a bit turned on.
You said nothing as you continued to touch him, trailing your fingers up to the head of him. A small drop of precum seeping out.
He looks at you intently as you stare, “taste it, if y’want, love.”
With his prompt, you swipe your thumb gingerly across his tip, gathering up the few beads and lifting it to your lips.
It was a small portion, but he watched to see your micro-expressions at the taste. It was nice—really nice, in all honesty— compared to what you expected.
It was easy to see on your face you wanted more.
“Can I, uhm…” you paused, trying to figure out a way to word it, “taste you…?”
He pinched his eyes closed, running a hand through his now unruly hair. It was hard to control himself, he just wanted to pin you down and please you himself— thank you for making him feel so good already. Wrap his mouth around your probably puffy clit and make you come before he showed you what it feels like to be fucked.
Obviously he couldn’t do that. And not that he wanted to act like you were a delicate flower, but he was trying to keep you feeling comfortable— and that everything could progress at your pace.
“Jesus, love. ‘Course y’can.” He groaned, struggling to peel open his eyes.
“Can you tell me how you… how you like it? Show me even?” You ask, gently.
He shifts his hips, “Anything you give me I will like. But I can kind of direct you, tell you what feels good, I guess? If I can form a coherent thought with y’mouth ‘round me.”
You nod slowly, feeling the wetness gather between your thighs at his praise.
Deciding it would be easier, you slip off the couch onto your knees, placing yourself between his legs. You felt intimidated a little, the sight of his pulsing cock this close infront of you.
Yet still, you were salivating over it. Grateful you had a secure enough relationship to be able to do this. Especially with someone you felt so much for.
You glanced up at him, watching as he tracked your every move. He could’ve moaned aloud at your soft eyes looking up at him like that.
Your hand runs up his leg, resting to bracket the side of his thigh as you lean forward, gently kissing his tip.
A puff of air sounded from his lungs, egging you on just enough to keep going. You swept your tongue over the same spot you kissed, but trailing it down along his shaft.
You felt a little clueless as to what you were doing, in all honesty. So you glanced up, looking for a prompt on what to do next.
You wished it would just come to you naturally. Obviously in all the porn, they took the cock all the way down their throat, bobbing their heads and sucking like it was on their life. But you had no idea what your limits were, and how realistic half that shit is anyway.
“Sorry…” you muttered looking away, feeling your face flush with a tinge of embarrassment.
“God, Y/N. Don’t apologise, doing well for me baby. Just take me into your mouth, if you can.”
“Ok, I just want to make you feel good. So please tell me if I do something that has the opposite effect.” You sigh.
“I will, even though I highly doubt I’ll need too. Y’have such a nice mouth. Never knew it’d feel so good wrapped ‘round my cock.” He says this while cupping your cheek, and a part of you wants to just bend over and let him take you right there on the floor.
You never knew it could be like this. So open and filled with reassurance.
You lowered your lovely warm mouth back over him, sliding his tip past your lips, flattening your tongue on the underside of his smooth head.
“Fuck, so warm.” He whispers before continuing, “try and suck on me, hollow out those pretty little cheeks.”
You slide further down before you do, filling up your mouth with him, “don’t take more than you can handle sweet girl, use your hand for the rest.”
You nod around him when he says that, merely to show your taking his advice, but he groans loudly as you do.
So you do as he asks, wrapping your hand around what’s left of him and begin to suck.
He’s immediately lost in the sensation, digging warm fingers into the grey of the couch beneath him.
He can’t lie, you’re an attentive learner. You listen to the sounds he makes as you try something, like pulling your mouth all the way to the tip before gliding back down— or how you take note the way his body reacts with a shudder when you squeeze the base of his cock with your warm hand.
His directions are quickly falling away, into the back of his brain as you let your mouth explore his cock. It seems you’re fairing ok, now you’ve had proper encouragement.
You had been so in your head about making a mistake, now that you finally weren’t as worried about that, you could just focus on his body. Be intune with his reactions.
“Baby, you are so good at this.” He moans, driving his ass into the couch to keep from bucking up into your throat.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, the image of him fucking your throat comes to fruition, and he has to shove it away. Leave it as something to jerk off to later, when he starts to miss your hot mouth, which probably won’t take all that long.
“Told me y’never touched anyone like this before. Think that’s a lie, how good your little tongue is working me. Y’gonna have me coming soon.”
His words bring a flutter to your core, the way his accent is all husky from pleasure. Pleasure you’re giving him.
“Such a good girl f’me, hmm?” He asks, and you hum a yes. The vibration of it flys through his cock, constricting around his spine as he moans out.
He stares down at you, eyes glazed with pleasure. Spit is glistening around your chin, and no doubt when you pull off his cock will be coated in a thick layer of it.
“Christ, faster for me baby. Moan all around my dick.” His thoughts start to spill from his lips, and your brain lags trying to process how filthy they all are.
Not that you’re surprised he’s like this whatsoever, but to be hearing it with your own ears, and it to be directed toward you makes it a whole other ballgame.
“This mouth is mine.” He curses, and you dig your fingers into his thigh as you feel your cunt throb.
“All fuckin’ mine. Trained up just for me.” He groans, and you slip off him just enough to get a few words in.
“Yours, Harry. Please… pull my hair.” You plead, wrapping your mouth over him after a short second, quickly jumping back into the fast rhythm you’d built up.
“Fuck, not sure gonna be able to be gentle f’you if I do that, darling.” He hisses, clenching his fist, imagining your hair between it.
You whine around his cock, looking up at him, desperate for it.
At this point, you don’t care. He can be rougher. You pretty much have instilled every ounce of trust you have in him— which you had done prior to this, but especially now.
Your hand scrapes up his shirt, nails clawing at his taut abs, pleading for this.
He thinks he could almost just die, seeing your needy side quickly being unleashed per his undoing.
His resolve caves, his hand coming to nestle into the hair close to your scalp. You moan at the feeling of it merely being there, his cock pulsing on your tongue.
“More dirty than I ever could’ve thought, Y/N. Wanting me to pull your hair like this, begging. M’trying to be gentle with you— making it so hard for me.”
You suck harder, and he sticks to his word of being careful, his hand tight around your hair— but never forcing you down.
Even though you don’t think you would have minded if he did, he was clearly getting close.
“Love, shit!” His legs were shaking, and his face was flushed a gorgeous pink.
“You’re gon’ make me come.” He grunted, “Hard.”
He told you this so you could pull off, maybe finish him with your hand or something. But you didn’t budge, you just kept sucking and sliding your perfect tongue all over him.
He couldn’t imagine finishing this fast with anyone else but you. Your messy, virgin mouth making him nothing short of a train wreck.
“Y/N, baby, I’m— holy fucking shit—“ you squeezed his balls in you hand, and he was hurtling toward his high.
“If you don’t pull off I’m, god, god I’m gonna come down your throat.” He rushes out, whole body ready to snap.
You don’t budge, you take as much of his dick as you can, wanting to feel his warm come shoot into your mouth.
The second he realised you wanted him to finish in your mouth was the same second he felt an indescribable pleasure hit him.
His jaw dropped, and stomach muscles clenched so hard he would’ve keeled over if he was standing up.
You pulled back. Hand coming to stroke where your mouth had left. But you kept his tip in, which was still spurting his come, placed on you tongue.
It coated it, dripping down onto your bottom lip and chin. And just the sight of it would be enough to get him off for the next 5 years.
His Y/N, his best friend, who he not even 10 minutes ago found out was a virgin, had just taken his load half down her throat and half smeared all over her tongue.
“Fuck me, baby. That is so unbelievably hot.” He almost whined, completely out of breath.
“Rub it in with my cock. Then swallow it, love.” He said, watching as you immediately did so, coating your tongue with him.
“Such a good girl. Swallow.”
You did that too. Placing a little kiss on his thigh after, and standing up.
Your knees felt a little weak, and you sat down next to him again.
He reaches over, kissing you without shame of where your mouth just was.
His hand slipped to your waistband of your probably soaked-through sleep shorts, and you halted it, “You don’t have to, Harry.”
“I know love, I want too though. But if you don’t, then that’s ok.” He caresses your hip.
You take your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking. You do. But at the same time, maybe not just yet.
Despite what just unfolded on his living room couch, you still feel almost shy. Not ready.
“Maybe not yet… that was— it was a lot. And very unplanned.” You purse your lips, worried he’ll be offended or something.
“Of course, darling.” He scoots his hand away, laying it on your cheek instead.
“We’ll take it at whatever pace you want.” He smiles, kissing a quick peck onto your lips.
“How about, i turn that off,” he gestures to the TV, “‘n we go cuddle?”
“That sounds great, H. Thank you. For everything.”
He chuckles, plucking his sweatpants from the floor and slipping them over his legs, “I should be thanking you. Thank you for trusting me. And for giving me probably the best orgasm I’ve had in ages.”
You flush, harder than you’d like to admit. Maybe this won’t be a bad impulsive arrangement after all.
———
3K notes · View notes
enditen · 11 months
Text
birds of a feather
summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.
word count: 4090ish.
rating: m
warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.
pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )
author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader
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You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.

“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.
“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”

“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”

The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.
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It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.

He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.

Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck. 

“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse. 

“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”
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You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.

That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.

"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.

Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.

"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."

"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."

Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.

"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "

A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"

You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.

"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."

"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."

The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."

If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."

You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."
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Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.

This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.

It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.

You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.

His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.

Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.

"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."

Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.

"I—" He starts before you shake your head.

"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.

"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."

You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"

You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"

A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."

His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"

You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"

His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.
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The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.

"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."

"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.

"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."

"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"

"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"

"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"

"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"

"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."

A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."

You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"

A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.

He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.

"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.

A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"

"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."

You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."

What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.

You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.

"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.

You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."

He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."

You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."
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look-at-the-soul · 3 months
Text
Because of you
Modern Tommy Shelby x reader
🎉 @runnning-outof-time I write this little fluffy piece for your celebration! Hope you like this! Congratulations on 4K followers, and also thank you for your kindness, your constant content -which I’m trying to catch up on-, and your little sweet and cheerful messages K! 💖 I’m particularly grateful for your presence in this fandom (the very first blog I remember following and following me back!)
Last but not least, thank you @justrainandcoffee for the absolutely beautiful moodboard!!!!!!! ♥️✨ It’s everything I imagined and even more ✨
A/N: Keep reading until the end, you’ll find a recipe in case this story makes you go hungry 🤭 because in this blog we share photos and recipes, whatever you want 😉 I couldn’t help it but add the grandma element in this one (Grandma’s series) and a little baby fever 👀 @forbidden-forest-witch
Word count: 2,308
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“Alright Polly, I’ll deal with the contracts tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Ada should be sending you the papers.”
“Enjoy the rest of your holiday already, bye.” He added but didn’t hang up. He heard her laughing at the other end of the line. “For good, have some fucking rest.”
She was just like him, refused to take days off, now she was finally about to embark into a cruise around the Mediterranean.
“Are you home yet?” She asked.
“Yeah, just want to take a bath and go to sleep.” But that was so unlikely since both his children were home for the weekend.
“Give Y/N and the kids a kiss from me.” Polly requested and finally hung up.
Getting a phone call from an known number, Tommy decided he was done for the day, so pressing the red button, he walked into his apartment and immediately the voices coming from the kitchen caught his attention.
Genuine, loud laughs filled the hall and he recognized the unmistakable song in the background.
“I want the pink M&M’s!” Shouted Ruby.
“Why do you like everything that’s pink?” Charlie questioned as Tommy left his keys and wallet by the table.
“Because…” his daughter’s voice mumbled something he didn’t understand. “Y/N can you spin me around again, pleeeease?”
Tommy was about to interrupt the scene going on the kitchen, but he stopped midway as Y/N turned around and leaned forward, Ruby wrapped her arms and legs from behind while Y/N held her feet and slowly twirled around. Making his daughter giggle uncontrollably, her hair flowing.
“Okay now go back to your chair because you’re making the baby twirl inside too.” Y/N joked.
“I don’t know how you do it, when I was pregnant all I could was throw up. You need to take it easy.” Her mother asked in a worried tone.
“Mom I’m fine, besides the baby really wants a slice.” Then, looking at Charlie, she gasped. “Oh Charlie we don’t lick the spatula,” she told him in a calm tone, but it was too late he was done decorating his slice and now half his face was covered in chocolate, “well, what’s a few germs between friends huh?”
As the kids started giggling, she noticed Tommy standing by the door.
She was wearing a black tight dress that looked like a second skin on her, wrapping every curve perfectly and also showing his favorite new feature; the baby bump fully on display. Her hair free, wild long waves covered her back. A few bracelets hanging from her wrist, the Cartier watch he gave her for their first anniversary and her signature smile that took his breath away.
“I didn’t hear you,” wiping her hands with a cloth, she approached her husband. “Missed you.”
His hands wrapped around her back immediately as their lips connected. She tasted like cheesecake and strawberries.
“I missed you too.” He whispered and crunching down, he planted a kiss on her swollen belly. “How’s my little one, eh?”
“Starving and wriggling around.” Y/N answered as Tommy went for another kiss, this time on her lips.
“Eww, dad.” Charlie complained. Embarrassed by their affection.
Ignoring his son’s complain, he went to kiss Ruby on the cheek and then kissed Charlie as well, ruffling his blonde hair in the process.
“Hello Lisa, how are you doing?”
“Trying to make Y/N sit, but she won’t listen to me.” His mother in law welcomed him with a hug.
“Yeah, I deal with that on a daily basis.” He winked at her playfully.
“Hello? I’m standing right here!” Y/N waved at them.
“Oh!” Tommy made an innocent face. “Right, well I didn’t say anything.”
Ruby laughed. “Look Dad! Y/N had some crampings and we made a cheesecake!”
“I think she means cravings right?” He asked Y/N in a low voice, making his wife smile. “We? Are you sure you baked that?”
“Weeeeell Y/N and grandma baked it, but we decorated it!” She defended.
“And we made all slices with different topings.” Added Charlie.
Tommy’s heart melted as he heard his daughter call Y/N’s mother grandma, she and Polly were the closest his kids had.
He had lost his mother a long time ago, but once Y/N stepped into his life everything changed. Lonely nights were filled with love, long and deep talks. Actually, thanks to her, Tommy started to spend quality time with his children; Charlie and Ruby, driving them or picking them up from school, arranging plans on the weekends, even taking them both on holidays.
And Lisa welcomed not only him into her family lovingly, but both his kids as if they were her biological grandchildren.
“So which one is for me?” He asked after clearing his throat, he tried to hide his emotions, but Y/N could read him like an open book and a moment later he felt her hand on his back and her head on his shoulder. “These all look great.”
He spied on the slices with several options.
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“Y/N said chocolate marble is your favorite.” Ruby gave him a serious stare.
“That’s about right.” He nodded profusely in her direction, then looking at his mother in law, he asked her; “I hope they didn’t give you loads of work.”
“None of that, they’re amazing kids.” Lisa beamed.
A groan came from the fridge, Tommy went immediately after Y/N worried.
“What is it?”
“We were going to put the pizza in the oven, but I can’t stand the smell.” She made a face.
Tommy decided to check the food, it had been in the freezer but it might be bad.
“This doesn’t smell, Y/N.”
“I just don’t want pizza anymore.” She pouted.
And in that very same moment, Tommy understood this was one of those mood swings caused by the pregnancy. A careful smile spread on his lips as his hands caressed her bump gently.
“Okay, so what do you want for dinner instead?”
By the corner of his eye, he saw his mother in law trying to suppress a giggle, luckily the children were busy with the cheesecake.
“We want tacos.” Y/N batted her eyelashes as she ran one of her hands over her stomach.
“Alright everybody,” he clapped his hands and looked at Charlie and Ruby, “go wash your hands then you’re going to help me prepare some tacos.”
“Yay!”
“Delish.” Ruby shouted and went into the bathroom.
“You’re staying with us right?” He asked Y/N’s mother.
She nodded and felt grateful when Tommy convinced her daughter to go and relax into the living room while they worked on the food.
“Last week she woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted fried mozzarella sticks with mayonnaise.”
Y/N’s mother laughed as the kids joined them again.
“This is insane, I don’t know how you keep up with all of that.”
“I was worried about her health and the baby of course, but the doctor mentioned everything is perfect, baby is healthy… perhaps it’s the fact that she’s still doing exercise.”
“When I was pregnant I was sick all the time. She didn’t like anything of food I got.”
Tommy seemed to think about it as he started seasoning the beef.
“Actually Y/N felt like that for a few days after we found out, but then she started to eat pretty much everything, everywhere.” He chuckled. “Thankfully it’s been an easy pregnancy so far.”
He had actually been able to live this pregnancy to the fullest, joining Y/N for the doctor’s appointments, cravings, hormonal days, everything, something he didn’t have the chance to do with Charlie and Ruby.
He was enjoying every little change in Y/N’s body, the first time he felt a little kick, he cried actually, touched by the thought of his baby growing inside the woman he loved. They actually wanted to keep the gender a surprise until the baby arrives, it had been a challenge at times, but it was fun.
“Dad where’s the onion?” Ruby showed him the open fridge.
“Oh no, no… can we not add onions please?” Y/N joined them with a wrinkled nose.
“Two days ago you ate a full portion of fried onions, love.”
“This baby,” she pointed at her belly, “wanted onions, not me.”
“Isn’t it the same?” Charlie asked confused.
But Tommy knew better. “No onions then, I’ll start the grill with something else.” He added wanting to please her in every little detail.
As the kids helped Y/N’s mother to wash the avocados, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket.
Y/N stared at his back, wide with broad, toned shoulders covered by a perfectly fitted shirt. She loved to see him wearing daily a three piece suit in a world full of oversized t-shirts and pants.
But when he started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, she lost it completely.
The sight of him was mouthwatering.
And as Tommy turned around, he caught her staring at her, the fire in her eyes could turn him on in a second.
“Behave, Y/N.” He whispered, disguising his words with a kiss on her hair. “Perhaps we’ll need a babysitter over the weekend?”
He chuckled at the way she nodded eagerly.
“My, my… what would your brothers say if they saw you wearing an apron and cooking?” Y/N’s mother joked, making everyone laugh by her sincerity.
“This is a secret we’ll have to keep, alright.” Tommy winked before checking the steak, he then asked Ruby to -carefully- and under his supervision to add cheese to the tortillas. “Chef Shelby only cooks for very very special people.” He added throwing a kiss to the air.
As Charlie brought the plates over the counter, he started slicing the meat and the explosion of flavors in the kitchen started to smell incredibly good.
Y/N’s mother was in charge of the different sauces, it was a usual now in their fridge as Y/N craved tortilla chips with sauce most of the time.
“Wow… this is Instagram worth it.” Y/N admitted taking a looking over Charlie’s shoulder. As the kid grinned at her, he made sure to serve a tortilla in each plate, to then hand it to his father so he could add the carne asada.
“What a beautiful family.” Y/N’s mother admitted, touched by the way Ruby was caressing Y/N’s stomach, Charlie helping with her food and Tommy looking after all of them.
Leaving the spoon, Tommy wrapped an arm around his loved ones while extending his free hand towards his mother in law.
“What are you doing there? You’re part of this too.”
After they were all released from the tightest hug, it was time to finally enjoy some tacos.
“Now shoo,” Tommy ushered Y/N out of the kitchen to arrange the food.
Gathering a tray, he placed the bowl with the guacamole and around all the tacos he just prepared. Leaving a small space for the sauces.
“Oh my God! This is so good!” Y/N admitted loudly after her first taco bite.
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“Dad why does Y/N can eat before all of us?” Ruby asked innocently, confused because she was always told to wait until everyone were ready.
Tommy chuckled while Y/N apologized for not waiting the rest of the family.
“We don’t want to upset the baby, Rube. Right mama?”
Y/N nodded, her mouth was watering at the sight of the rest of the food. “That taco was for the baby, the next one is for me.”
After the kids took their place, Y/N’s mother offered a hand to each kid, seated each by her side. “Now what are we grateful for?”
“For this moment.” Tommy took the lead, feeling ever so grateful to have his loved ones in that room.
“For the cheesecake we’ll eat after dinner.” Charlie grinned.
“For this baby, and for each one of you.” Y/N’s words were followed by a smile.
“For my grand son or daughter!” Her mother joined the joy.
“For my little sister or brother.” Ruby added lastly.
“Now…” Tommy interrupted their hands mind-air as they were all after the delicious food on the table. “There’s something else I’m thankful for, tomorrow morning, we’ve to get up early because,” he was then interrupting by a chorus of groans and a pout from Y/N, “nevertheless… we’re going to visit a couple of houses to move in as soon as possible.”
“What?” Y/N was in shock.
“Love, this baby is coming very soon, we’ll need a bigger place than this apartment, I was thinking of a room for each,” he looked over at both children, “a nursery for the baby and of course a guest bedroom so you don’t have to share Ruby’s bed anymore.” He added looking at his mother in law.
“Oh Tommy!” Y/N’s eyes swelled with gratitude.
“I’ve narrowed the search to five properties so you’ll get to make the final decision.” He explained then.
“A house! Tommy a house!” Y/N couldn’t believe what she just heard.
“With a garden.” He encouraged.
“Can we have a pool?” Charlie asked.
“I want a doll house!”
“Whatever you want.” Tommy added, winking in Y/N’s direction. “Can we eat now?”
As the kids stormed to get their tacos, Y/N took his hand. A growing smile on her lips.
“You never said anything.” Her eyes sparkled.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“I’m so happy because of you.” Her sincerity wasn’t just in her words, but in her eyes as well.
And deep down, Tommy couldn’t believe that thanks to her, he was able to find stability, loyalty, freedom, love, a family, someone who helped him every day to be a better person.
****
I hope you enjoyed this little story! 🥰 remember, your feedback (in all ways) is always welcome and highly appreciated! ✨ xx
Tacos recipe
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