#just stop dying and flirting at the same time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fairyysoup · 10 months

Text

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself.

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something.

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you.

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again.

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder.

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway.

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you.

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it.

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does.

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive.

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again.

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying.

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will.

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him.

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you.

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.”

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience.

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?”

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair.

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing.

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth.

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile.

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?”

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night.

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.”

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.”

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens.

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face.

Steve Harrington is touching your face.

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him.

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile.

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer.

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana.

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it.

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation.

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you.

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.”

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.”

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.”

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?”

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.”

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror.

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself.

You like it a lot.

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours.

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.”

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.”

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?”

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?”

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night.

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own.

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?”

“I wish.”

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return.

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted.

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?”

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?”

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away.

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly.

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!”

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?”

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him.

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.”

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy.

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count.

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.”

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section.

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.”

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals.

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly.

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking.

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst.

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.”

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack.

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop.

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices.

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant.

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.”

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.”

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York.

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt.

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.”

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?”

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.”

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps.

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date.

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away.

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me.

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel.

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying.

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite.

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones.

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time.

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things.

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve.

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box.

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him.

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box.

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms.

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check.

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day.

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes.

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind.

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you.

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now.

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours.

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco.

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building.

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him.

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?”

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open.

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you.

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.”

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice.

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.”

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.”

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?”

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you.

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.”

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out.

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?”

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor.

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open.

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you.

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit.

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom.

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders.

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?”

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours.

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started.

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning.

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips.

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind.

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline.

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him.

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?”

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?”

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows.

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose.

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?”

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork.

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #roses*

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withahappyrefrain · 9 months

Text

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

#my writing #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fic #bob top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd

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peachesofteal · 7 months

Text

Simple Math / Part One

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, nurse!reader, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, Johnny is a flirt, Simon is a basketcase. You meet your new patient, and his ghost.

“Johnny.”

He blinks.

There’s so much noise now, an overload of sensation ringing between his ears. Ripping and tearing, shouting, booming. The night lights with blue and green explosions, whistles of rockets singing through the sky.

He blinks again.

“Johnny, stay with me.” Simon’s calling to him, hands firm against his belly. “Eyes open, Sergeant.” There’s fear there, terror drenching each syllable. White-hot, mind-numbing pain radiates from where a palm presses against his wound, gaping hole torn through his stomach, river of blood spilling from his body. Pint by pint flows freely from him to the dirt.

He’s never seen Simon like this before, the whites of his eye gleam like bone. Terrified. Frantic.

It must be bad. He must be dying.

As he blinks, Simon slowly disappears, morphing into someone else, eyes and nose molding into another’s, Price’s face taking the place of his partner’s without preamble. Fire douses the air, red and purple explosions dancing above his head like a halo. Angelic light, falling from heaven to earth, just to take him away. Fire and blood. Fitting end for a Catholic, he supposes. Gaz yells something into a radio. A fruitless effort.

“Si.” He tries to reach, tries to pull him close, but his arm is dead weight, along with the rest of him. “Ah love ye. Tell- tell her, Ah love-”

“Stop.” The word is barked over another ricochet. “Lay still. You’ll tell him yourself.”

“Simon.”

“No, Johnny. You don’t get to say goodbye. Not yet.”

Hospitals are dreadful places.

For most people, hospitals hold the memories of the worst moments in their lives, loss of loved ones, loss of self, painful injuries, frightening medical procedures, or mistreatment by medical professionals. The sanitized, whitewashed walls and off-white linoleum even have a certain scent, a smell that people associate with fear, discomfort, pain. It's globally accepted that hospitals are not well liked. They're not popular or particularly enjoyable. No one wants to go to the hospital.

But to you, the hospital is everything.

It’s where you spend a large amount of your time awake, willingly choosing to be here over anywhere else. Picking up odd shifts on different units, offering to cover for coworkers, staying late or coming in early whenever it's needed. It's your place. Your only place. It's where you make connections, where you're good at something, where you can be seen but never noticed. It’s what you dedicate your life, your time to. It’s what you cling to. It’s where you find your own peace, your own solace. Where you can let go of everything at home and focus on what you’re good at, caring about your coworkers, honing your skills, taking care of your patients. It’s yours. A place where you’re sheltered, where you can be yourself and not have to look over your shoulder, or keep your voice down, or mince your words. Somewhere you know what to expect, where you can predict, most days, the outcome of most things. Where you can feel in control. Its consistent, solid. It’s your safety. Your sanctuary. Nothing can hurt you here.

It's everything to you.

The elevator dings, announcing its arrival, and you curl your hands around your coffee out of habit, warming your palms.

“Good morning?” The friendly face inside greets you, nodding towards your tall mug, steam wafting from the top, hot and fresh from the café. They're a rad tech, you're pretty sure. Day shift. Parker, maybe? The elevator is always the same. Hellos, goodbyes, floor to floor. No one bemoans their outcomes or tallies their losses here. No one celebrates their successes or accomplishments either. It stays void, unfeeling, unknowing, except for the comings and goings.

“Hey, yeah. Good morning. Good night?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” They agree, and you bounce on your toes, stretching the front of your new sneakers, trying to get the bridge across the tops of your feet to loosen a little.

“Have a good rest of your day.” You give them a smile, and then hop off, ready to start your morning, as most of this side of the hemisphere gets ready for bed.

“You too.”

“And room two sixty-eight is stable, sedated, for now, but he bottomed out less than hour ago, so keep a close eye. I haven’t had a chance to orient him either, so give it a go, if you can.” Mal taps her passcode into the tablet with one eye closed, spine slowly relaxing downward with exhaustion. “Thank you again. For covering. I wasn’t about to be stuck on another long swing because Alexis decided not to grace us with her presence.” She rolls her eyes, and you incline your head in response, shrugging her off. Mal saved your ass six ways to Sunday when you were a new nurse here, and you’d do just about anything for her, and coming in when your coworker decides she wants to be a slag doesn't even count, considering you prefer to be here anyway.

Shift change bustles down and up the floor, night shift coming on, days and others leaving. You make polite small talk with everyone, since you don’t know them as well. It’s their Friday. Tomorrow is your Monday; you’re just picking up. Everyone is thrilled to have you though, including the charge nurse, and you allow yourself to sink into the ups and downs of their conversation, back and forth about weekend plans, their kids, their relationships, their issues.

In a group like this, you're seen. Not noticed.

Just the way you like it.

“Oh!” Mal calls out, breezing by the pit with her bag slung over her shoulder, watered down iced coffee in her grip.

“Go home.” You chide, and she sucks in a breath before opening her mouth again.

“I am, but one last thing-“

“Malaya. I got it.”

“I know, I know but this isn’t in the chart. Two sixty-eight, he’s military. There are three others here with him, two kind lurking in the hallway, and his partner is in his room, refusing to go home. He’s…weird. Got special permissions to bypass visiting hours.” She raises an eyebrow. “But they’re all quite fit. Caused a bit of a… stir.” Great. The last thing you needed in the ICU is a stir of any kind. You needed it calm. Peaceful.

“Okay, got it. Thanks. Now shoo.”

You check your email, skimming with speed, skipping over anything HR related, starring skills updates to look back at later, and casually replying to a request for a float to the PACU another day this week- Hi! I’d love to pick up a few hours if I can arrange it. What time are you needing? Before moving onto checks for your patients (too many, if anyone asked your opinion- which they wouldn’t, because why would administration want to ask a nurse their opinion on anything, right?) ensuring that everyone is in good shape, stable, relaxed, resting, or even better, fully sedated. Two of your patients are on vents, and you check in with the RT on shift before heading down the hall to your last, first stop of the day.

Two sixty-eight.

Two men are slumped over and asleep in the hallway chairs outside the room, arms folded, thighs spread wide, chins tucked to chest. One of them younger, probably closer to your age, chiseled jawline akin to Adonis, the type of rich beauty that would make anyone do a double take, and an older, albeit not by much, muscled, broad chested man with a distinguished moustache curling above his lip, eyes hidden beneath the rim of a hat.

These must be the guys causing the stir.

You stop outside the slider of two sixty-eight, drawing a deep breath before knocking and then pulling the slider, fogged glass parting to reveal your patient asleep, sedated, in the bed, and his partner, a hulking mass who sits at attention by his side. He’s broad, clad in black sweats, heavy arms and straight back showcasing his size- massive. The sweatshirt hides definition but judging by the appearance of the two in the hallway and your patient, you’d guess this guy was just as fit. He looks uncomfortable, body too big for the chair, brow creased with worry overtop the black cloth mask that covers his nose and mouth.

There’s something, in his eyes. Something devastated. Something you’ve seen before, in people who sit vigil like this, preparing for the worst, praying for the best, and something else, something that you recognize, but rarely see inside these walls. Something dark and severe, foreboding, even with part of a handsome face peeking out over the mask.

He's already half lost to his grief.

He could be a ghost.

“Hi.” You whisper your name with a small smile and point to your identification tag. “I’m the overnight nurse.” You imbue the words with sweetness, kindness, but he doesn’t respond, just traces you from head to toe and gives a perfunctory nod. It’s not abnormal for a patient’s loved ones to be less than warm, especially to the graves nurse, the one who ends up interrupting their sleep at odd hours of the night, the one who’s usually here when the worst happens. You never take it personally. You’ve sat in that chair before. You’ve known the pain of this heartache, the way their hearts are cleaving in two, one half desperate to stay beating, the other begging to be lowered in a grave alongside their loved one.

You give the silent man an opportunity to speak when you step up to your patient’s monitor, and then motion to the man in the bed.

“This is John? Mr. MacTavish?”

John MacTavish.

You’ve already read his chart back to front, memorizing his labs, his last vitals check, going over the scope of his procedure from this afternoon, and the tentative plan for the morning.

He’s a mess. Collapsed lung, hemothorax. Broken ribs, internal bleeding. Perforated liver. Broken wrist. Lacerations all over his body. Third degree burn on the entirety of his lower right quadrant. Shattered femur. Fractured hip. Triaged and treated in the field with less than stellar medical care. Came off the medevac and went right into surgery that lasted nearly ten hours long.

Lucky to be alive.

“Johnny.” He corrects, his Manchester accent sharp, rough. You type it into the chart, making a note that Johnny is the preferred name, over John, and duck down to check the bag that’s attached to his foley catheter. The man across from you tenses but doesn’t say anything, tracking your every movement like he’s nervous you might harm your patient.

“I’m just going to check this dressing. I would prefer not to wake him, so I’ll be as gentle as I can, okay?” You explain, motioning to the wrapped portion of his body. He doesn’t respond, just sits still as stone as your fingers nimbly move his gown to survey the would and it's dressing before putting everything back in place. You’re quick once you’re satisfied that it looks okay, tucking the blanket back in around him, careful not to jostle where his leg is immobilized, wrapped in gauze and elevated. “I know this has probably been a very frightening and difficult time for you.” You tell the man in the chair with a whisper. “If you need anything, have any questions, concerns, I’m here. For both of you. I’ll be here at least four, five nights a week as long as he’s on this floor, so we’ll get to know one another.” When he still doesn’t say anything, you try to fight the awkward feeling that’s vibrating up your spine. Okay, he clearly doesn’t want to talk to you. That’s fine.

Your patient groans. His partner startles, body jolting, and then he’s on his feet, leaning over the bed, eyes searching, anticipating. He looks so… unsure. Worry etches across his face as he waits, and his hand hovers without purpose above the bed, flailing in the air like he doesn’t know what to do.

You stand back for a moment. Your patient, Johnny, will mostly likely be lucid for the first time in who knows how long, and you’d like a chance to orient him, let him realize his partner is here with him, tell him he’s going back in for surgery in the morning, before giving him some more pain medication.

The monitor beeps, signaling an increase in his heart rate, respiration, spiraling upwards until-

“Johnny?” The question is hopeful, nervous, and your patient grunts, tongue darting out to lick his lips before they crack open.

“Simon.” The name is a whisper, heavy with relief, and you make a mental note. Johnny and Simon. Room two-sixty-eight. “Whit happened?”

“You’re in the hospital.” Simon explains, anxiously glancing at you. “Can I… can I touch him?”

“Of course. Carefully.” He lowers his face to Johnny’s so slowly, so gently your heart skip a beat, tapping their foreheads together cautiously.

"Yer here." Johnny whispers, the fingers in his good hand barely lifting, reaching out to try to touch Simon, even though his body won't cooperate. "Thought Ah dreamed ye." You can see it, the heavy burden of love that lays between them, the thing that's brought them to this point, the thing that shines in Johnny's eyes as he tries to drink in the frame of Simon's face, tracing his features over and over, painting a picture to take with him... wherever he goes.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected?

You had no idea, but these two did. Just one look, and you knew these two had something people all over the world would kill for.

“I'm here. I'm right here." Something wet and desperate is caught in Simon's throat, and Johnny’s lips tug into a weak smile before it fades away with a grimace, his partner straightening with a wide hand tight on the bed railing, knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip.

“Hi.” You tell Johnny your name quickly, eager to get the less important stuff out of the way and start working towards getting him some relief. “I’m your overnight nurse. How’s your pain?” He frowns in consideration before groaning.

“’s alright.”

“Don’t be brave.” Simon says, and you nod in agreement.

“I’d like to get you some relief now so you can sleep, if we can.” Pain management can be a delicate conversation with patients, and you never truly know how they’re going to respond until you get to this point for the first time. You smile down at him, and he gives you one back, sleepy and sweet, bright blue eyes peeking out beneath drooping lids.

“Bad.” He croaks, and Simon glances at you in expectation. You nod to reassure him, reassure them both.

“Alright. Let’s get you something, yeah?” You log his vitals with a few taps on the tablet. The order’s already in the chart, and you ready the dosage, turning your back to give them some privacy.

“Where’s-“

“At the Price’s.” Simon murmurs, voice low, it’s deep rumble vibrating around the room.

“Ach.” Johnny groans something out, but it’s lost to his discomfort, and you wince in sympathy, wiping the hub of his port with an alcohol swab.

“Okay. So, this should go a long way with your pain.” you tell him, disconnecting his line to replace it with the flush. Simon tenses, again, practically flinching in the chair when you approach Johnny with the first syringe of saline. His eyes crease in concentration, watching your fingers, trying to keep up with your movements. “I’m flushing the line.” You explain gently. “Then I’ll push the medication, like this,” You’re quick with your hands, swapping the syringes and then slowing down to administer the medication at the correct push rate. Simon visibly relaxes, only a fraction, after the explanation, and once you’re done, you attach a new flush. “It’s saline. Compatible with the body, we use it to make sure that all the medication is moved through the tube.” He’s focused on your movements, and you reattach the fluids line before patting Johnny’s shoulder softly. “There, all done. He should be feeling much better here in a moment or two.”

“Cheers, bonnie.” Johnny slurs, and you huff a laugh.

“I’ll be back in a half hour for a vitals check, and then after than I’ll leave you be for a while. You do have another surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning, early-“ you glance at Simon, hoping that someone came by to already talk to him, and he nods. “So, I’ll see you before then too. I’m always a click away, if you need something.” You point to the button on the side of the bed. “If either of you need anything, I’m here. Okay?”

“Whit surgery?” Johnny grunts. Simon’s jaw flexes behind the mask, but he hesitates. It’s long enough that Johnny tries to rouse himself, and you rush to answer, to settle him.

“You have a broken hip, and your femur is shattered.” Nothing like ripping the band aid off. “Orthopedics will come by in the morning to talk about the plan, but they have to go back in to continue to work on the repair.” You don’t mention that his leg is still partially open, packed for reentry in six hours, that the damage to his lung and liver took priority when he came in, and by the end of that, the swelling in his leg was too severe to continue. You’re not the doctor, so it’s not your job to advise your patient or his family of his prognosis, really. You need to keep him calm, comfortable. Alive. Advocate for him, for both of them. That’s the job. Simon can tell him what he wishes, when he’s lucid.

Johnny’s lashes flutter, and he mumbles something, fingers curling in Simon’s grip. You take your cue, checking your watch. “I’ll let you get some rest.” You enter a quick vitals check, and then turn to leave.

“Thank you.” Simon murmurs to your back, and you pause half step, head turned over your shoulder.

“Of course.”

Six hours later, you’re slipping back into the room to say good morning to a groggy, but still somewhat alert patient.

“Good morning.” You whisper, and then frown a little at where Simon is still sitting in the same spot, upright with heavy eyelids and mussed hair peeking out from the black hood. He looks like he hasn’t slept for a single moment, blue black circles shining under his eyes, stiff and uncomfortable in the too small chair.

Maybe we could get a recliner in here.

A big recliner.

“How’re we feeling this morning?”

“Alright.” Johnny grumbles.

“He’s in pain.” Simon snaps at you abruptly, insistent, and irritated, and your muscles tense instinctively before you forcibly relax them, un-bunching your shoulders from beneath your ears.

Deep breath.

Simon’s head cocks, just slightly, and then his attention is back on Johnny, two hands cradling one another, fingers intertwined like they’re afraid to let go.

“Okay, let’s see if I can get you a little bit of medication.” You pull out your phone, flicking open your work app to message his doctor. “They’ll probably order a small dosage of dilaudid, have you ever had that before?”

“Na.”

“Might make you a bit loopy. I’ll have them give it to you when you get upstairs.” You glance at Simon. “Did you get down to the café, grab something for breakfast?” He shakes his head no, and you briefly considering encouraging him before realizing it will probably go over like a lead balloon. You smile at Johnny instead. “Your partner tells me you prefer to go by Johnny?”

“Does he?” He blinks, blue eyes alight behind sleepy lids, looking over to Simon like he’s caught a kid in a cookie jar. “Aye, ah jalouse ye kin ca' me Johnny, bonnie.”

“English, MacTavish.” Simon murmurs, stroking a soft semi-circle into his arm with his thumb.

“Ye can call me Johnny, pretty girl.” He speaks slowly, dragging his consonants and vowels until he gets to the last two words, an impish smile twisting his lips.

Pretty girl.

It’s suddenly incredibly warm in this room.

You roll your eyes on instinct as you’ve trained yourself to do whenever a patient lobs a compliment or a flirtatious quip at you, but it’s usually only ever old men. Or women.

Not beautiful, sculpted Scotsmen with sleepy smiles, stunning blue eyes, and mysteriously handsome, brooding partners.

You clear your throat, self-conscious, and startle just a bit when you hear the door opening, OR team sidling through to bring him upstairs.

“Alright, well. This team will take great care of you, and I’ll see you tonight when I’m back.” You pour positivity into your words, a practice you’ve maintained during your career, thinking good things for your patients, being positive for your patients. A good attitude can go a long way, especially for patients who may have a long road ahead of them, like Johnny.

Slipping out the door, you turn your head to where Simon listens to the surgeon intently, brows lowered, nodding occasionally, and splitting his attention between the (what you’re sure is) a one-sided conversation and where Johnny is half awake in bed, a nurse and two techs busy around him, prepping for the walk and elevator ride, their hands still clutched together.

Johnny looks over, small sigh expanding across his chest, locking eyes with you for a moment. You freeze, taken aback by the clarity in his gaze, his face shifting from uncomfortable and pained into a small smile, lopsided and sweet.

You give him one back and disappear down the too-white corridor, new soles squeaking against the floor.

Badging out always twists your stomach with the same kind of dread. It's Tell-Tale Heart kind of dread, something that starts in your mind and spreads through your bones, a symptom of malignancy, sickness that ties you in knots, tips you over into dark waters with waves that break too close to the shore. It keeps you rolling your neck and shoulders over and over to release some of the tired tension that’s been building in your back, trying to relax and ease the anxiety that's building up inside you like a tea kettle.

You’re half sleepwalking, mind already wandering when your shoes squeak to a halt outside of two sixty-eight on your way to the elevator, in front of the door parted to reveal Simon sitting in the chair by Johnny’s empty bed, arms crossed, head tipped backwards.

Is he asleep?

You purse your lips and tap against the glass with your knuckle.

“Hi.” You call to no response. Probably asleep. “Simon?” you whisper his name, and once he doesn’t respond, you turn the dimmer all the way down, satisfied that he’s getting some rest. You set your uneaten banana and protein bar on the little table by the bed before sneaking away, sliding the door shut with a satisfying click.

The weather this morning, this evening, is gorgeous. The sun is a golden orange orb peeking over the horizon, spraying a myriad of colors ranging from pinks to yellows across the rooftops of the city, dipping the morning commute in an effortless glow. It feels good on your face, the warmth, and you roll the long sleeve shirt that you wear under your scrubs up to your elbows to soak it in through your forearms too, stopping to stand still for a moment, for the first time in hours, in front of the back entrance to the hospital.

In the sun, in the light, it's easy to close your eyes and pretend that you're something, somebody else. Easy to tilt your face to the light and let it wash over you, bathe you in fire, burn you clean like a witch on a pyre.

Your watch beeps, dragging your focus to where it displays the time, a stark and devastating reminder that you have to get going, and you give the hospital one last look before beginning your trek to the train.

See you tonight.

#peaches writes #simple math #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x soap #ghoap #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #soap x reader x ghost

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astrologydayz · 7 months

Text

ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES🔞 - NATAL CHART2

VENUS/EROS IN PISCES/AT 12, 24° = Pisces degree points 2 someone being sexually attracted 2 "lost souls", they want someone who's willing 2 let them be their saviour✨. They could also hold deep thoughts about being saved by a lover themselves, and the idea of "escaping" 2 their "happily ever after". Sex them up with how artistic/poetic u can be. That shit always works. They need someone who's willing 2 show them a kind heart, while also fulfilling their deepest desires/sexual urges.

VENUS/EROS IN SCORPIO/AT 8, 20° = Scorpio degree points 2 someone wanting a lover that's more sexually charged in private, and someone who's willing 2 give up their "thought patterns", as they can be a little "obsessive" with wanting to know everything, or them investigating when they feel the other persons sexual attraction "dying down a little bit"🧯🔥. These people can easily find your weak spots, so they won't disappoint. They need someone who's willing2 give them their soul, as they do the same💀😍.

VENUS/EROS IN LEO/AT 5, 17, 29° = Leo degree points 2 wanting 2 be praised all the time, and a need 2 praise, if the other person does good🐕. They want someone who worships them, puts them on a pedestal👑. They need someone who knows that they're not 2nd place, but always 1st place. They put passion, & sexual attraction/admiration at the top of the list, of things they NEED, 2want to get sexual with somebody. They need platonic, romantic, &sexual flirting from people all around, 2 get that "confidence in", people telling them how fine they look/how sexy they are🌟🌟.

Moira asteroid (638) conjunct 5th house can show fated romances/affairs throughout life, or with one special person💜.

A MAN’S Venus in Leo/1st house is mostly all about themselves in bed, they want 2 get off first and then maybe, if you're lucky, they'll finish u off2. No hate, I just don't fuck with it 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨.

Black Moon Lilith conjunct Vertex in a MAN’S chart shows that he's meant 2 have fated experiences, that puts him out of the "conventional". Like him dating/seeing younger women&getting shit4it, or him being "thrown" into situations where he has 2 "defend himself", because of the women he's in a sexual relationship/romantic relationship with🙄. These fated connections/experiences is what turns him into who he's supposed 2 be - someone who doesn't give a fuck about anyone else's opinion - BML energy🖕🖕💜.

Medusa asteroid (149) conjunct ASC in a WOMAN’S chart will make herself look "tempting", or "available" in front of a man, but as soon as he looks or tries 2 hit on her, she'll degrade him. "U disgusting man, or "u pig"!! "I didn't look at u, or made any attempt 2 flirt with u, whatsoever"😂.

A MAN WITH Venus, Mars and Saturn in Capricorn = Ultimate dom. They'll make you scream their name over, and over again, & won't stop until he made you cum multiple times. He's REALLY sexually experienced, when he reach his older years, like from 30&up.

Lust asteroid : 4386 conjunct Jupiter = crazy sexual needs. Even if they've had crazy sex all night = they can go again the next day, all day😵‍💫😲🤣🤣 Mars in Virgo/8th house in Virgo in a MAN'S chart typically finds "younger people" 2 be way more sexual attractive, than people at their own age. They're attracted 2 the feeling of "feeling young", while being with a young woman/man❤️. They want someone they can have an insane sexual attraction2, while also being able 2 "teach" the other person a lot in the sexual department. Them wanting young/inexperienced women.

Neptune conjunct Black moon Lilith can make you so damn ethereal. Especially if you got Mars or Venus aspecting it 2. people want 2 rip your clothes off but r afraid 2 even say hi 2 u😭😭😭. Afraid you'll reject/embarrass them.

💜💜💜💜 Look at aspects from Venus (the planet of love&attraction), & Mars (the planet of sex), 2c what u like, & what u need sexually💋.

👅👅👅 Mars in Gemini changes their mind a lot when it comes 2 sex. One day they like 2 dominate, & the next they like 2 be submissive. It really comes down to how they feel on that particular day. &it makes sense. Mars (planet of sex&) in Gemini - Duality. A MAN’S Venus/Mars in Leo wants praises from u. They want 2 hear how good they are, and amazing they are in bed. If u don't, they can get bored of u, and seek somebody else - get their "needs" taken care of by another person👀 👀.

If your 8th house ruler is in your 8th house = sex can so transformative for u but you'll probably only hookup with a few people throughout your life tho. Only having sex with people you feel a deep soul connection with.

🍆🍆 A MAN'S Mars/Venus/in 11th house in Aquarius is FREAKYYYYY, they'll try anything with their partner. MOSTLY ON VIDEO/cam🙃🙃🙃 PERIOD.

A WOMAN'S Venus in Pisces/8th/12th house is the "I'll do anything I can 2 satisfy your needs, before my own". I love these placements, they want their partner 2 feel all the pleasure and doesn't even think about their own.

Taurus Mercury/Mars LOVES 2 be neck kissed, damn. Just go wild there and they'll go crazy 4 u, I promise 👄👅. MEN with Mars in Taurus/Taurus in 8th house = attracted 2 women that always looks "beautiful", "sexy, but classy", "ocd around looks", "model looking". They want a gorgeous woman, that can "cater" 2 their most sensual needs 🫦💦. Find some whipped cream/ice cream + your tongue&his body = go loca. If he doesn't go crazy, (u probably have the wrong chart😂🤡). Webb asteroid (3041) conjunct/trine/sextile/quintile BML can indicate doing "Web porn", "only fans", "showing yourself off, in a "sexual, provocative way online"🧯💨🔥.

Mars/Venus in Gemini/3rd house loves using toys! But they especially love2 use their hands&fingers!! They can also love oral👅.

REPOST OF SOME OF MY POSTS FROM MY OLD BLOG/SOME NEW COMMENTS

THANKS4READING💘 Appreciate u, always!

#astro community #astro notes #astrology #black moon lilith #astro observations #astrology notes #asteroids #venus #birth chart #mars astrology

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aristia-pjoheadcanons · 4 months

Note

i love your headcanons! can you write percy jackson x daughter of hades??

(nsfw, sfw, or both)

percy jackson dating a daughter of hades

pairings: percy jackson x reader

warnings: (sfw) + nsfw

author's note: I love writing nsfw, remember that I always age up the characters when writing NSFW!

->masterlist

art by vidia

Being the daughter of hades has its perks, people stay away from you the moment you were claimed. They know better, but the bad thing is that you couldnt find yourself getting comfortable with others if it meant that you couldn't use your powers completely during games/sparring.

Luckily for you, percy is your guy. he can keep up with any attacks or summons or any power you have - and he does not let you down.

he never gets scared of anything you show him (perks of defeating a one titan and one goddess before the age of 18).

Besides, he has two good friends who are also a child of hades/pluto. He is interested in what you can do, but respects it if you dont wanna show him.

In a relationship percy does not mind showing what he likes about you, touching you, holding hands and lacing your fingers together everywhere, staring at you across the room and quirking up an eyebrow in a teasing way (just to see if you react or not).

in a relationship, I feel like percy has no shame in trying to make you flustered, in the same way he does not mind showing you how he likes it.

grabbing your waist when you stand and talk to someone, butting in when you dance with someone other than him, trying to tease you and flirt with you across the room - knowing damn well people are enjoying the show.

He loves to see how you react when he touches your delicate spots, the small of your back, your spine, thigh, inner wrists, anything that has soft skin he is willing to simply graze it with his long fingers - and pull back when you look at him.

other times he just full on stares at you in challenge, like he knows you cant resist the simple touches.

you might ask,

what are you doing?

but he will always give the same answer or some type off variant,

what do you think i'm doing?

by the way, he definetly know you like it when he talks in a husky and deep way. his voice already got deep during puberty, but he really takes it to another level.

he likes to watch you with hooded eyes when he lets out a deep chuckle, he knows you like the vibration coming from his throat.

he knows you like his warmth, and has no issues pressing close to you, even while standing. imagine youre just standing somewhere, and he suddenly comes and bumps his chest close to your body, and keeps it there. he doesnt grind or do anything but he just likes pressing himself close to you.

he wants to know the way you like it.

he likes it when you kiss his neck instead of his lips. or when you check him out from afar, but when he gets close you get shy

ugghhh bedroom eyes pleeeassee stop it percy. he knows a nice blush will form on your face or he has at least memorized what you do, what type of facial expressions you make when you're flustered. this man knows you from the inside out. understands your likes and dislikes and makes it his whole entire personality.

he gets reminded of you whenever he is with someone, wether its someones laugh or anything romantic really. his mind doozes off and he starts to think about you, your lips and your voice, your body underneath him--

he quickly pulls himself away from such thoughts, gets embarassed. but if you are dating, he's bound to think about something at least.

using his powers to make you feel good, forcing the water to give you a nice massage

whenever he watches you use your powers he gets somewhat turned on when you're being intimidating.

i dont want to be stereotypical, but if you do wear dark-coloured clothes and have piercings, dyed hair he just likes the fact that you stick out. but if he likes you, then you are the center of his universe.

things would start out slow between you two,

kisses and flirting->following each other around->

to suddenly backing each other against the wall or any surface

teasing both by pushing your limits, he likes to tilt his head to the side and watch you with his eyes while you try to keep a poker-face.

too bad, percy has mastered the art of poker-faced (refrence to kane chronicles and percy jackson crossover), he can go all day (and yes i mean that in both ways-or all ways)

but he's hesitant to go further with you, so initiate it.

istg, imagine him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his beautiful face - while you get changed slowly on purpose (he knows but he's enjoying the show), and just cast a glance over your shoulder and hes locked it, he will only focus his gaze on you. even if people call his name from outside his cabin, he wont turn his back. he takes in every feature, every movement,...

sheesh his toned abdomen. he didn't think it did anything to you at first, but he noticed how you would watch his shirt roll up whenever he leaned back or how your gaze would flicker to his biceps - so he started to wear his sweatpants low, like really low just to see your reaction. even if you dont make a big deal out of it, he knows you're screaming inside.

in percy's mind, theres something about knowing that someone desires you that makes him give that in return to you. like if he knows you want him, his desires for you grows twice as strong. knowing someone wants him, every part of him, that is enough to spark arousal in this guy.

do anything and he is watching. you are special to him, his one and only. and as the poets say, you are his other half.

touchign and playing with your hair, expose some of your neck, or just watch him with casual eyes and he just gives you a knowing-smirk. he knows when you want it and when you're up for it.

i feel like hes the type of guy to get turned on when you get turned on, your reactions are important to him. you moan, he moans. its as simple as that.

if you like to change up your style every now and then hes transfixed by the way you're casual one day and suddenly glamorous, or when you dress with clothes that most wouldnt wear or when you dress according to a group like the punks, goths or tomboys - hes just fascinated by you.

licks his lips and watched your lips when you talk. you dont even need to be talking to you. hes just memorizing your features. and when hes done with that he chooses the he likes the most.

ogle ogle ogle

quit staring

is a coming saying from you. you're met with the same response,

*quirks eyebrow and doesnt say anything, poker-faced*

sometimes you're met with a smirk.

sheesh. i feel like when he gets flustered he doesnt want to stop staring at you but he does anyway because he wants to try to hide it. lowering his head, looking away quickly and looking down -> smiling at himself for such a reaction but also silently complimenting you for making him react in such a way. everyday is exciting, he wants more. i guess this guy likes the adrenalin, perhaps is reminds him of the curse of achillies in a way?

sing a song and dance around or lip sync. i feel like he sometimes manspreads guys, like i know its annoying when you're sitting next to someone, but he means no harm. besides, usually on the subway he stands even if theres an empty seat.

but when he is sitting he spreads and leans back and watches you. sometimes he comes forward and rests his forearms on his knees to get a better view. if someone gets in the view ex. stands in front of him or blocks the view, he clicks his tongue and tries to look around. if a guy starts talking to you or dances with you theres a minuscule feeling of bitter hate in his chest that runs pretty hot and deep in his veins, luckily he doesnt make a scene but just sits there irritated. wipe that frown off his face plz.

has developed a habit of touching his hair and scratching his neck because of you. he starting doing does habits becuase he wants to seem cool and look good, but also because he gets nervous

he naturally smells like sea-water, but started to wear a musky, deep, hollow scent as his cologne so that when he puts his jacket around you - you can smell him and smell like him the rest of the day/night.

likes it when you lay in his bed so he remembers how you smell, its comforting - but not always good if it keeps him up at night

not a very innapropriate or suggestive person but gives his friends "the look" when you're being sexy on purpose. not to make fun of you or undermine you, but because he needs to make sure everyone is also getting this, phew.

like i said, he likes your scent - but secretly lays down in your bed (even if you're in the top bunk hes going to climb up there shamelessly) so that it smells like you and hopes it keeps you awake at night too.

if you try to tease him for staring or try to stare back at him he maintains eye contact and sometimes blurts out:

pretty

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keikikait · 4 months

Text

ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 2.6k

summary: you always wanted to be a teacher, even after discovering the jujutsu world. after graduating from kyoto jujutsu high, you decided to make your dreams a reality and teach at the sister school, tokyo jujutsu high. the only downside (and secret upside), is your teaching mentor, satoru gojo. what started as a few flirtatious glances turned into a full-blown relationship situationship. you were his, and he was yours, until he goes on a date.

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst?, plot with basically no porn (i’m sorry), gojo is kind of an asshole & a tease, implied dom!gojo and sub!reader, nickname use [baby, pretty girl], no use of y/n

a note: been sitting on this bad boy for a while and decided to finish it. more parts to come (eventually). also, the comment about flirty baristas is just for fluff, baristas don’t flirt with customers (source: i am one). also also, they say tokyo jujutsu high is on the outskirts of tokyo, but i wanted everything to be inside of tokyo so i just kinda guessed, whoops.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You were just his teaching assistant. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.

Secretly, you were his. After long hours, he would find solace in your arms as you lay in bed together.

You weren’t dating by any means, although you wanted to. You understood why, it wouldn’t be a good look for you or Gojo if the higher-ups found out about you, but you both had an understanding. You were exclusive, just not publicly. You followed his rules, turning down dates and avoiding the flirtatious gazes of baristas or waiters.

You thought he would follow his own rules, too.

It was supposed to be a fun trip; a peaceful eight days of relaxing in Nikko before returning to school after the winter break ended. In reality, it was a week and some change stuck in a log cabin hunched over a desk grading papers, freezing from the cold. The gender-segregated cabins didn’t help. It was too cold to venture into Nikko during the day, a thick layer of snow covering the ground at all times no matter how much was shoveled. It was also, as Gojo had pointed out the day before making the trip, suspicious for the two of you to venture into the city alone. It was twice as hard to be away from him at night, you had gotten so accustomed to sleeping in his arms and hearing his soft snores in your ear. You were lonely.

You could see him, though. The men’s cabin was bigger and had a massive irori in the middle that heated the entire place. You sat with him as you graded and planned lessons, and his teasing touches left you aching. You were going on 8 days without his dick, and you were dying.

As you sit hunched over the desk, trying to make out what Yuji had written on his worksheet, Shoko bounds up to the table, sliding into a chair opposite Gojo.

“Hey, Gojo,” she says. “Are you going to the winter festival when we get back?”

You tried not to react. You had begged him to go with you, but he always gave you the same excuse; it was suspicious.

He stretches his legs out a bit and smirks. “I was planning on stopping by. Why?”

Shoko smiles. “I have this friend, Himiko. She’s new to the city and was looking for a date for the festival. I’ve been telling her all about you, I honestly think you would be an amazing match. What do you say?”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach. Although you and Gojo had agreed to stay exclusive, you couldn’t ignore that he was Satoru Gojo. Everyone wanted him.

Gojo chuckles a little, adjusting his mask. “Sure. I don’t see why not. Is she cute?”

Shoko leans over the table and shows him Himiko’s social media while you keep your head down, staring at the pile of worksheets in front of you.

You keep grading, trying to focus on your work and not the feeling of your heart tearing in two. Gojo continues laughing and talking to Shoko, their conversation drowned out by your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You wish you could ignore your jealousy, but it’s hard to ignore the anxiety creeping up your spine at the thought of Gojo finding someone else, especially if he could go public with them.

You know his reputation; the ladies' man, the bachelor. The guy no one can catch. But you know the real Gojo, the one that stays over at your small apartment even though he has his own, bigger place. The one that cuddles you every morning and whines when you try to get up and get ready.

You don’t know this Gojo. You felt like strangers.

For the rest of the day, you kept to yourself, grading papers and reading books to try to drown out the thoughts. He isn’t even looking at you when you leave the men’s cabin and head back to your own. You and the rest of the staff leave Nikko tonight, and you have one more day of freedom back in Tokyo before the new term begins.

You pack up your stuff and wait outside the bus, shoving your suitcase into the undercarriage. A headcount is done before you all start piling onto the bus. You sit in the back, pressed up against the frost-covered window. Headphones in and music blaring, you only look up from your phone when you feel someone warm sit next to you.

You’re a little surprised when you look up to see Gojo getting comfortable next to you. He didn’t sit next to you on the ride to Nikko, he sat up at the front with Shoko and Akari, claiming it would be suspicious if you sat together. He leans closer, so close that you can almost feel his breath on your neck. Then he grabs your arm, moving your headphones out of your ear.

“Don’t wear these in public,” he says in a low voice, “Someone might grab you from behind and pull you into the crowd.” He leans into you and whispers, “I almost missed you sitting back here.”

You should be mad, but you can’t be. His smell fills your nostrils and you feel yourself succumbing to him. You smile softly. “You didn’t, though.”

"I didn't." He leans back and sighs, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his arms out. You enjoy the warmth coming from him, the way it spreads through you. "What do you want to do when we get back home? We can head out to a bar and grab a drink. Or we could go get some ramen from that place you like. Or we can just go back to your place and we can spend some…quality time together.”

You bite your lip a little. You’re normally a little feral when it comes to Gojo, but going without his touch for eight days has almost sent you into a frenzy. “I like the sound of that last one…”

Gojo laughs and squeezes your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles. "And how bad do you want it?" He leans in closer until his face is inches away from yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in the air. "How badly do you miss me, baby?"

You can hardly think straight. Your mind is telling you to push him off, to stay upset with him for accepting that date with Shoko’s friend, whatever her name was. But your heart, and more importantly your pussy, is telling you differently.

Your mouth feels like cotton, but you manage to say, “So badly, Gojo. I’ve been aching without you. These past eight days have been driving me crazy.”

Gojo chuckles and traces your chin with his fingers, leaning even closer as his face towers over yours. "You missed me, huh? My pretty girl didn’t do so good without me, did she?" He strokes your cheek gently, smiling as you lean into his touch, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. "Say it. Tell me what you've been wanting to tell me for the last eight days, what you didn't want to say in front of everyone."

The bus suddenly lurches and you remember where you are, on a cramped bus surrounded by your coworkers. You look around, nervous, hoping nobody caught you guys.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Gojo asks. He grabs your chin and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”

You do, nodding softly. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel him staring into your soul. “I am looking.”

“Then answer my question.” He says, dragging his thumb across your lips. You can hardly think straight already being this close to him, but the feeling of his thumb on your mouth is mind-numbing.

“I missed you,” you whimper. It’s been a long eight days since you last felt his touch, since you last felt his breath on your skin. As he continues to stroke your lip with his thumb, you feel your mind melt away into a puddle. His touch is like a drug, and you’re desperate to not end this feeling.

“I know you have.” He coos, moving his hand down as someone up by the front gets up from their seat to change positions. He waits until they sit down before speaking again, “I’ve missed you too.”

You sink further into the seat, hoping no one looks towards the back. The bus ride isn’t super long, only about two and a half hours. Maybe no one would think to check on you two until you made it back to Tokyo.

He reaches over and turns your face towards him again. “But that’s not all, is it?” His thumb glides across your neck, his eyes under his mask flicking between your own and your lips. You can’t look away. You don’t want to. “What else have you been thinking about?”

You gulp, your mouth dry. "It's been so hard without you. It's hard to fall asleep...and I've barely gotten any sleep here because I stay up all night thinking about you."

"You have?" His eyes search your face as his thumb strokes the length of your neck. "I haven't had the best sleep either. I kept thinking about you, about how much I missed you. Thinking about all of the things I wanted to do to you when I got back." He takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking to your lips, his breath coming out in hot puffs of air. "You make it so hard for me to have self-control. Do you know how hard it is to jerk off with Masamichi and Kiyotaka nearby?"

You nod, understanding him completely. You had tried to touch yourself, too, hoping that your fingers would feel the same but it felt weird to do it with Shoko and Akari in the same cabin. “I know. I haven’t cum since we left Tokyo.”

He hears the soft whine in your voice and grins. "You’re so tempting," His breath washes over you as he whispers those words in your ear. His hands trail from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jawline. "Do you know what I want to do with you when we get to your place? What I'm thinking about doing to you right now?"

The bus takes a sharp turn going down the mountain and it snaps both of you back to reality for a second.

You notice his hands still on you. Gojo notices too and grins, removing his hands with a sigh. He leans back into the seat. "Sorry," he says, running his hands through his hair. "I was a little carried away there." He chuckles. "We have a while before the bus arrives. I think maybe I should go to the front before I do anything stupid."

You go to protest but he’s already gone, striding to the front of the bus effortlessly as it rocks side to side, plopping himself next to Akari. You sit there, your body still feeling the heat of his hands, his words still ringing in your ears. You sink deeper into the seat as you try to calm down. You watch him for a while, seeing how he talks and laughs with Akari and Shoko and the way he never glances back toward you.

You feel like a stranger to him, yet he’s the one who’s supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be together, even though your situation is less than ideal. The bus rocks back and forth, its engines humming quietly. You lean your head back against the seat, letting out a deep sigh. Your mind races, wondering how Gojo acts when you're not around. Did he only accept this date with Himiko to make Shoko happy? Why wasn't it ever you that made him happy?

You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you pull down the food tray and prop your phone up. You put on your favourite movie, hoping the familiar faces of the characters will distract you until you reach Tokyo. Occasionally you look up at him, hoping you’ll catch his eye before he goes back to his conversation but you don’t. He doesn’t look at you once.

The movie sucks you in like it has many times before. You don’t notice how fast time is moving, silver-tipped mountains giving way to serene towns and stretched farmland. It’s late, almost 1 am, and as soon as you feel yourself starting to fall asleep you feel the bus stop and hear the driver announce your arrival, right in front of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You look over to see him already heading off of the bus with Shoko and Akari, heading in the direction of Kabukicho, laughing about an inside joke you’ll never be a part of. You grab your bag from the undercarriage and head to the train to head back to your apartment in Taito-Ku.

The train is packed full of tired salarymen and high school students, none of whom bother you. Your thoughts drift to Gojo as the train shakes and shudders its way back home. When the train finally reaches Taito-Ku’s station, you exit the train and head down the stairs, stepping out into the frozen city. You walk to your apartment and head inside, shutting the door to your small, solitary room.

You lie awake, hoping he’ll call you, or even show up at your front door drunk. It wouldn’t be the first time. The minutes turn into hours, your eyes shifting rapidly as you glance between your phone and the door. You start to wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about him right now. And what he’s thinking. You glance at your clock. 2:57 AM.

You shouldn’t feel disappointed, but you do. He could’ve at least texted you and told you he would be out with his friends for the night instead of being curled up with you watching a cooking show. You’re his, but you’re not his girlfriend. He has no obligation to do anything with you, really, but you wish he would. You wish he cared enough to want to.

Your eyes glance back toward your phone and you hesitate. You mumble a curt fuck before picking it up and calling him. The phone is ice cold against your cheek as it rings. You wonder what your contact name is on his phone. Your name? Your name and a heart? Or is it just your number, unsaved?

He answers and you can hear faint music in the background. “Hey, baby.”

You smile a little, biting your lip. “Hi. I just wanted to see if you were coming over tonight.”

You hear him groan a little, but you don’t know if it’s out of annoyance with you or how late it is. “Yeah, I was planning on it. But uh, Shoko brought her friend tonight, Himiko. The one I’m going to the festival with.”

You nearly choke on your spit. The way he was so casual about his date with Himiko made you feel sick. “Oh, did she?”

“Yeah, baby. How are you though-” His words are interrupted by a female voice in the background begging for him to come back inside. “Uh, listen, I gotta go. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okay, I-” The call ends, your phone beeping at you as he hangs up. You set your phone aside, face down, as you lay back on your bed.

You feel ashamed as you cry. Gojo isn’t your boyfriend, and he has a reputation to uphold with his colleagues. You should be fine with it, but you aren’t, and it kills you. You bury your face in your pillow as you sob, hoping one day you and Gojo can stop being strangers.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part two is here

#keikiwrites #gojo x reader #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #f!reader #✿: gojo!

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perpetuallydaydreaming · 1 year

Text

stop flirting with the nurse, it’s embarrassing.

it’s hard to act cool if james’ beautiful, hot nurse can hear his heart rate.

tags: james potter x gn!reader,, modern au,, hospitals,, nurse!reader,, remus pov,, melodramatic sirius and peter,, fluffy,, crack(?),, short around 1.3k wc,, no mentions of y/n

a/n: contrary to the title, there are no flirting just james being awkward lol,, i have no idea about the process of how vital checking goes sorry,, finding photos for this probably took longer than writing the fic itself rip.

it is to be noted that remus, resignedly, accepted it was only a matter of time before james got hospitalized for his recklessness.

now, with sirius and peter on either side of him, they wait for james to gain consciousness from his surgical procedure. it was a minor one, hardly one that needed 24/7 surveillance that sirius begged him to be a part of nor is the blubbering phone call from peter about james dying. the doctors even said he could be discharged the same day, if he woke up within the hour or so.

but remus is nothing but a people-pleaser. so, he stayed to watch over james as sirius requested and comforted peter that their loud, obnoxious (/fond) friend will wake up soon.

the room ridiculously quiet, a word rarely used as an adjective if they were involved, but it was. the only sound in the room, is the constant slow stream of the heart monitor and james’ soft breathing. remus can attribute this peace that the unnecessarily frantic and ballistic duo has now gone to sleep on the hospital’s stiff couch.

your head poked in first through the curtain before offering the gentlest smile and a silent request for you to come closer. you had been nothing but kind and attentive, to the point you were somewhat spoiling his overdramatic friends and their bemoaning about death and pain.

acknowledging their concerns with facts, reassurances, and empathic smiles. though he couldn’t miss the twitch of your lips as you try and stop, what remus imagines is a bellowing laughter at their dramatic reactions over james’ “demise.” not that remus blames you if you did let out a little laugh, it was getting theatric for a simple, small, and successful surgery. but he understands that professionalism comes first, such reactions might not be appropriate.

“well, everything seems fine here. your friend should be waking up anytime soon, if he does, don’t hesitate to ring us over so we can have him checked and he can be discharged. but before i leave the room, do you want me to do anything for you, any questions or concerns?” you say, voice gentle and firm

“no, we’re good, thank you.”

you nodded and gave a pretty smile, “okay then.”

you adjusted the curtain to close it fully, giving a stirring james and the sleeping visitors some privacy.

it wasn’t long before james woke up, groaning and stretching as if he had just been napping. albeit, a little delirious still, from the anesthesia no doubt.

he had opened his eyes now, unnaturally drooping and hazed, remus reached over and thwacked sirius and peter on their heads, “james’ awake.” he hums, giving nothing but an innocent looking smile as they glare for their rude awakening.

any sort of complaints from the smack quickly died out when they saw james, crowding over him and hugging him as if he’s been gone for 3 years and not 3 hours.

peter grabs james’ hands and recounts his experience of how he heard the news (from a text). at the same time with sirius exclaiming,

“oh, i’m so relieved you’re alright!” sirius cries, cradling james’ head to his chest, nuzzling through the knotted mass of curls to which remus only rolls his eyes at the theatrics of it all.

leaving remus no choice but to call you back into their section and have him checked for the last time.

“i’m fine,” james rasps, giving a sleepy smile and sluggishly patting both of the melodramatic thespians as comfort.

he looked fine, his hair no doubt knotted, his lips cracked dry but still rosy-cheeked.

when you arrived, sirius and peter have behaved themselves to sit down on the chair beside james’ bed. you slid the curtains fully, letting the light into their area. the fluorescent lights behind your head creating a soft halo as you kindly smile at james.

he looked to be stuck in a dazed trance. eyes still drooping but wider than when he first woke up, mouth slightly open, and body seemed to be frozen in place.

at first, remus thought of this due to the lingering effects of anesthetics but heard james’ heart rate steadily increase in speed.

the beeping machine seemingly louder now than before.

“hello, james. how are you feeling?” you hum, walking to go near him to do your routine check up.

the beeping seem to have picked up in speed as you neared his bed.

remus looked to the others to see if they noticed. the three of them, doing their best to cover their mouths to muffle their laughter.

“..’m fine..” james mumbled, starry-eyed gaze stuck to your face as you check his file and vitals.

“no pain? or headaches? any discomfort?” you ask, jotting down notes.

“jus’ perfect. ” he said, sounding a bit breathless.

the beeping was just going incrementally faster, the nearer you go to him.

you look at the monitor, face looking confused and worried all the same. “is it okay if i touch you? i’m just going to check on something really quick.”

the beeping stops for 2 whole seconds before continuing its raging beats. by now the three boys are having a field day, face red from the silent laughter and disbelief.

his heart literally skipped a beat, what even is this guy really? remus amusedly thinks to himself.

james couldn’t seem to say anything but give a measly nod. you grab your stethoscope, and listened to his raging heartbeat to see if anything was wrong. but james’ heart rate just seemed to have gained more momentum as you gently place your hand on his shoulder.

you move away, and slowly the heart rate slowed down, but still fast enough that you looked at him in slight concern.

“your heart rates a bit fast,” you noted, looking straight at him.

james’, oh sweet james, cheeks bloomed a glowing red and bashfully looked down.

you wrapped the stethoscope around your neck again and gave him a sweet, reassuring smile, “but other than that, everything looks to be in order. i’ll bring over the papers you have to sign and then you guys are free to go.”

when you finally walked away, james heart rate seemed to slow down to the normal speed once more. lolling his head to the side, as he groans in utter embarrassment and self-loathing.

“what is wrong with me?” he groans, cheeks still aflame.

sirius smirks, “your usual weakness to utter babes, that’s what.”

“your heart was going so fast i thought it was going to pop.” peter gushed laughing.

james playing with his starchy blanket, muttering lowly, “you think the pretty nurse heard that?”

the boys snorts out a laugh,

“i think the whole bloody hospital heard it mate,” remus cackled.

you came into view again, attending to another patient checking their vitals. offering the same kind of glowwy smile you gave them not a minute ago.

and because james just loves torturing himself, his gaze lands on you again. the same dazed look, body frozen but his eyes actively following your every move. the boys heard his heart rate—the beeping sounds picking up again.

this time sirius couldn’t stop his bark of laughter, causing you to look over them, curious.

your gaze connecting with james for a solid second.

they heard the monitor give another long pause before resuming its fast beeps. remus shook his head laughing, telling you not to worry.

you give remus a small nod, before looking over at his flustered friend, giving james a smaller, but somehow the sweetest smile you showed all day and abashedly looking away.

and james looking undeniably enamoured by your brief exchange. letting his tongue wet his dry lips as a giddy, rather boyish smile erupts from his face.

hopefully, this doesn’t give james more reason to be reckless and get himself admitted to the hospital more often. but if he does, at least it’ll be a funny story.

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bellawoso · 6 days

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girls

aitana bonmati x fem!reader

desc: kinda implicit smut but not much, still rated 16+ please!! also kinda short - im sorry its exam season and im dying 😭😭

aitana knew from a young age that she was into girls, when her highschool friends spent their free time talking about boys, she could never find it in herself to involve herself in the conversation. not many people knew about her sexuality, only ona and keira had a slight idea of it, after seeing aitana go home with a woman on one of the team night outs. if anyone asked aitana about her sexuality, she wouldnt lie, she would tell them confidentially that she was a lesbian, she wasnt ashamed of who she was after all.

the reason why hardly anyone knew, was that aitana didnt do relationships. most people on the team already knew that, aitana prioritised football over everything especially after 2023 ended, and as the awards kept stacking up, her winning mentality only increased, she put all of her time into making herself better.

that didnt make the spaniard inexperienced in the sexual aspects, and was never one to turn down a woman at the bar, but aitana preferred to skip the flirting, and get out of the club as soon as possible, especially before someone like mapi saw, who aitana knew would tease her all day at training.

however, since you joined the team, aitana didnt care about mapi seeing anymore, and instead focused on trying to not let you see, aitana wasnt sure why she was so against the idea of you knowing she was going home with another woman. but each time the midfielder spotted you sat down, laughing with your fellow lionesses at the table, the midfielder couldnt help but feel guilty as she let the other woman tug her towards the door.

as aitanas hookups increased, so did the pit of betrayal at the bottom of her stomach. but after one night, when thoughts of you plagued her mind as a girl that she didnt even know the name of came undone on her fingers, she knew she had to stop. normally, aitana lasted a few rounds, however this time her skills in the bedroom couldnt change her hookups mind, as aitana did the walk of shame out of this girls house after accidentally moaning your name as she came.

aitana did stop though, nearing around 4 months without a single girl, however the longer the period of time she spent without anyone, the more time she spent daydreaming of you. the main issue was that aitana was hardly even friends with you, sure the two of you had chemistry on the pitch, but off the pitch, the spaniard had no idea about you. aitana could just go on google or youtube to find out some facts about you and watch your interviews (which she had already done) however, anyone could find this out about you, aitana wanted to know things that the internet didnt. and to do that, she needed to try talk to you.

———

aitana liked to think of herself as a confident person, it took a lot of courage to heartlessly tell someone that they are nothing more than a hookup, but aitana hadnt thought about the fact that she had never had to see those women again. if you rejected her, then aitana would still have to see you each day at training, and she didnt think she could live with the embarrassment and awkwardness of that.

so she decided to first ask you to get a coffee with her after training, she knew lucy had brought you to training, so she could give you a lift back as well. aitanas plan was to befriend you first, and then try figure out if you reciprocated her feelings or not.

so when aitana decided she would offer to spot you, she didnt anticipate her body freezing up with nerves as she was about to ask you, which unluckily happened at the same time you failed your rep and actually needed aitanas help.

due to your intense sets, you were breathing unevenly as you tried to get aitanas attention, except gasping out “tana” didnt help the brunette anymore. instead her face blushed crimson, the spaniards pent up neediness for an orgasm from somebody other than herself was getting to her, and her mind couldnt help but think of how good you sounded saying her name.

her short daze was broken by you once again saying her name, as she quickly took the bar off you, repeating “lo siento” as you still gasped for air. when you grabbed onto the brunettes bicep for support, struggling to hold your self up after having your oxygen supply restricted for too long. you couldnt help but notice the muscle flexing unconsciously below your fingertips, which only seemed to make you feel more lightheaded.

“dios mio aitana, are you trying to kill me?” you wheezed out with a raspy chuckle, only to be met with silence from the midfielder and her holding up your water bottle to you. “you know im not mad at you, right tana?” you asked the spaniard, uncomfortable at the thought of her thinking your mad at her. “si, yes i know y/n, are you sure your okay?” she asked, as she gathered the courage to start rubbing comforting circles on your back. only when ona came up to the two of you, asking the both of you what happened accompanied with a knowing glance shot at aitana, did her hand stop rubbing circles on your back. the brunette instead let her hand fall, so it rested dangerously low on your lower back, causing you to shiver involuntarily.

you decided to call off your gym session early, you couldnt keep aitana off your mind, and your back still tingled where her hand had once rested. aitana decided to accompany you and drive you home, claiming she “owed it to you” after almost ending your life. despite the girls actual reason to take you home being she wanted to build her friendship with you, you suspected the midfielder just felt bad. never once did it cross your mind to ask what it was that had aitana so distracted during your workout.

———

your apartment was a 10 minute drive from the training grounds, however aitana had decided to take a detour, claiming that it would be faster due to the bad traffic in barcelona. however, after almost 45 minutes in the car, you were beginning to get tired, you were having a great conversation with the brunette who currently had one hand resting on the steering wheel, expertly navigating round the quieter streets of barcelona. as you looked over at the midfielder, you couldnt help but admire her side profile, and the way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried to remember the route.

a quick glance at the street you were currently at, on the map displayed by the screen of her car, had you internally groaning in frustration as you realised you were still half an hour away from your apartment.

“aita, are we almost there? im tired” you asked the midfielder, who now had a look of shock and suprise on her face.

aitana hadnt even realised how long she had been in the car with you for, she only meant to detour and make the route 10 minutes longer, not an hour. even the detour was only so she had enough time to build her courage to ask you out for a coffee.

“oh- yeah almost y/n! uhhh- like, another.. 30 minutes?” she said sheepishly, before quickly rushing out “¿Te gustaría tomar un café conmigo mañana?”

“aita, i dont speak spanish remember? especially not at the speed you just spoke at!” you said with a laugh.

fuck. aitana thought. although she had managed to ask you out, her nervous state had completely forgot to translate it into english so that you would understand. her adrenaline of asking you was wearing off, and she felt her previous nerves almost skyrocket at the thought of having to ask you again, especially now your full attention was on her.

“uhhh- get a coffee with me? i mean- uh, would you like to? to get a coffee with me? its fine if not- uh, it can just be as friends? if we are friends that is! its fine if-“ until aitanas state of rambling was cut off by you who although found her flustered state very amusing, was starting to feel pity for the spaniard who was struggling to even form a sentence at this point.

“i would love to aitana, its a date!”

“it is?” the midfielder said, receiving an encouraging nod from you, “it is!” she said more excited now, making you laugh at her excitement.

———

to other people, it would probably look like aitana had been stood up, but in reality, she had just decided to arrive at the coffee shop an hour early to hopefully have a coffee or two before you came, and prepare herself in hope to not embarrass herself too much in front of you.

the coffee shop she had chosen was one she had been to for years, it was relatively popular amongst locals, and was a small, cozy, family owned business, that aitana had grown to love.

as soon as you walked in the shop aitana requested to meet you at, you were met with aromas of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries, you scanned the shop for the midfielder you had grown to love, and saw her sat at a window seat, with an empty mug infront of her.

“i didnt get the time wrong did i?” you asked her, glancing at her empty cup.

“no, no- i got here early” the brunette reassured, and outstretched her arms for a welcoming hug which you quickly accepted, the midfielder wrapped her arms around you, not wasting the opportunity to have you as close as possible. equally, you werent going to pass up the chance to have aitanas arms wrapped around you, especially as they were what you spent most of your gym time admiring as you did your weights, much to esmees amusement and annoyance, who was your usual gym partner.

as you pulled apart and sat down, aitana decided to go and order the both of you another coffee, coming back with two cinnamon lattes, your eyes widening in surprise as you realise she remembered your favourite drink that you mentioned during your rambling in the car yesterday.

the date went well, and much better than aitana expected, she managed to not embarrass herself at all, and left the date with a smudge of your lipstick on her cheek where you had kissed her goodbye, that she knew she would probably cry about when she had to wipe it off later.

———

yourinstagram

caption: owed me a coffee after almost murdering me in the gym ❤️ tagged: aitanabonmati

liked by: aitanabonmati, alexiaputellas and 23,416 others

comments:

aitanabonmati: are we even yet?

-> youruser: i think i might need a few more coffees…

lucybronze: are we even surprised??

-> youruser: i think i could say the same about you and a certain brunette defender on the team..

user1: guapaaaass

user2: are they together?!!!

user3: princess of england, and the princess of spain ❤️💙

———

#Spotify #woso #woso community #barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #mapi leon #mapi león #ona batlle #alexia putellas #aitana bonmati x reader #lucy bronze #esmee brugts

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

Dirty Little Secret

Part 2

Masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader, Best friend! JJ x Pogue!Reader (All over 18)

TW: angst, brief mention of weed and alcohol

Summary: You and Rafe are in a secret relationship, but it all comes to a head when a girl gets a little too close at a party.

Word Count:4.1k

You've been dating Rafe for almost a year, and it's been filled with love, lust, and laughter. You're both happier than you've ever been but the catch is, no one knows. It had started off as a mutual agreement to keep your relationship a secret.

You're a pogue and he's a kook; neither of you wanted the drama that would come from your unlikely pairing to interfere. However, as time passed and the two of you realized you were in love, the truth remained hidden.

You've always understood, really you have. You've each got reputations, and Rafe had insisted that Ward finding out about you would threaten your safety. You trust him, so you've never questioned his motives.

Standing here now at a party, doubt begins to flood your system, the nauseating scent of weed mixed with beer doing nothing to help your anxiety as your mind reels.

Rafe is constantly getting attention from female suitors and it's never really bothered you before. So you're not sure why bile is rising in your throat as you watch a girl twirl her hair and blink up at your boyfriend.

Women don't know he's taken, and you're well aware that your boyfriend is a beautiful man. You've told him many times that he could easily be a runway model. So it's never surprised you that he has a long line of women dying to get him into bed.

What does surprise you is the fact that Rafe is entertaining it this time. You stand frozen in place as his arm wraps around the blonde woman's shoulder and his head tilts back as he laughs without a care in the world.

Usually, the two of you have an agreement not to be seen together. It's just easier that way; it eliminates any suspicion or questions. That flies out the window as your feet carry you forward on a mission, and you stop just short of the giggling duo.

Rafe notices you immediately and though he's good about keeping a poker face, you know him better than you know yourself and recognize the concern and confusion swimming in his blue eyes that you so often drown in.

"Hey, Rafe."

Your smile is tight as you stare up at him, and in the same way you can read him like a book, he immediately knows that you're upset.

"Hey."

The woman looks between the two of you with pinched eyebrows before returning her attention to your boyfriend.

"Who's this, Rafey?"

You resist the urge to rip out her extensions that probably cost more than your car and tilt your head to the side.

"Yeah, Rafey. Who am I?"

Now, Rafe knows that he's playing with fire. He can see the storm brewing in your normally bright eyes and wants nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and shout how much he loves you at the top of his lungs.

However, for the first time, you two are playing very different games, and his next move is dangerously miscalculated.

"Just a friend."

The words taste like acid as they leave his tongue, and he knows he fucked up the exact second he sees them register in your mind. Your gaze hardens into stone and the usual love and affection that your eyes hold for him are nowhere to be found.

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes so far you can barely see while giving a short nod.

"Just a friend. Right."

You know you're being unfair; the two of you have had set rules since the beginning and you just swapped the handbook on a moment's notice. However, the logical side of you doesn't think it's too much to ask for your boyfriend to, at the bare minimum, not flirt unabashedly in your face.

This woman isn't even from here, she's clearly a touron. You can't for the life of you figure out why the hell it would matter if he told her that you're his girlfriend.

Last night, he was whispering under the stars about how he wants to marry you one day and today you're just a friend. The whole dynamic suddenly feels wrong, and you're hit with a painful realization that you deserve more.

The two of you stare each other down for a moment before you turn on your heel and storm off. You only get a few feet away before Rafe's large hand encircles your wrist and pulls you to the side away from prying ears.

"Hey, what was that about?"

You look up at him in disbelief before scoffing and he scowls.

"We agreed to keep our relationship hidden. We shouldn't even be together right now."

You ignore the searing pain that his insensitive statement sends through your chest and will the tears to disappear. His features soften when he notices you're about to cry, and he raises his hand to wipe at your eyes.

Your body instinctively lurches backward as if he's holding a flame to your face, and hurt flashes across his sculpted features.

"Yeah, Rafe. Hide it, not blatantly lie about it! We certainly didn't agree to openly flirt with other people."

You curse the way your voice cracks and cross your arms over your chest as if they're a brick wall creating a barrier between the two of you.

"Y/N, you agreed-"

You cut him off with a shake of your head and take another step back.

"I know what I agreed to. I just didn't think that I'd have to keep up the ruse even after we were well established. I mean, we love each other Rafe! I want to be able to hold my boyfriend's hand and kiss him in public!"

Rafe sighs and runs a hand over his head, clearly getting frustrated with this whole situation.

"I thought what we have is enough."

He's trying to keep himself in check, but his patience is wearing thin, and a headache is brewing thanks to the impending argument.

"Well, it's not anymore. I don't care about a stupid fucking class war, I just want you. All of you. If I can't have that, then what the fuck are we doing? There's no future if you can't even be seen with me. What are you gonna do? Marry me in secret and we'll just live in separate houses?"

The angry exterior comes crashing down as the weight of your words crushes him, and he wishes he could just take all of this back.

"What are you saying?"

He's scared to ask the question and completely terrified of your answer.

"I'm saying choose. Me or your precious image."

There's a heavy tension that hangs in the air, and with each second he doesn't answer your heart breaks a little more. If the roles were reversed, you wouldn't have even hesitated and it occurs to you that maybe you love him more than he loves you.

Maybe he doesn't love you at all.

You tilt your head to stare up at the stars, suddenly feeling stupid. Of course you would never get a happy ending with Rafe. You're a pogue; you were never going to be more than that to him.

How foolish of you to let him in and allow yourself to believe he could feel something real for you. His father always said 'Play with trash and you'll get dirty.'

That's all you've ever been; a disposable fling until someone better came around. Someone deemed worthy of wearing his ring and having the name Cameron.

You focus on a single blade of grass sticking out of the ground and swallow thickly.

"Well, I guess your silence is my answer. Good enough to fuck, but never good enough to actually love."

The air is sucked out of his lungs at your statement and his world feels like it's burning all around him.

"Do you really believe that?"

His voice is so soft and tender that you almost let yourself believe love and pain are lying under the surface.

"You haven't shown me anything to prove otherwise."

He's seconds from falling to his knees to beg for forgiveness and pour his heart out when you turn and walk away without glancing back.

"Where are you going?"

Your steps don't falter for a moment and you're still just close enough for him to make out your answer.

"Back to my side. I'd rather be in the company of people who aren't ashamed at the mere thought of being associated with me."

Every fiber of Rafe's being is screaming at him to chase after you, but his feet feel like lead and he watches helplessly as you disappear out of sight.

"Fuck!"

You don't know how long you've been walking, but you're interrupted by the sound of a dirt bike. A small sliver of hope ignites that maybe it's Rafe, but is quickly extinguished when you remember you texted your best friend.

You shouldn't be surprised that he came looking for you; there's nothing he wouldn't do for you. There's a fleeting thought about the fact that JJ drove around for god knows how long to find you when Rafe couldn't even be bothered to walk after you, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived.

You're sure you look a mess with windswept hair and mascara trailing down your cheeks but you don't care. As far as you know, your relationship just ended, and you're beyond distraught.

With each step you took, you silently prayed that Rafe would appear and sweep you off your feet. But this isn't a movie, and you're not the main character who gets the guy.

JJ's heart shatters at the sight of you tucked into yourself. You look so small and frail, and he doesn't need to ask to know that something happened between you and Rafe.

He's the only one who knows; you've never kept a secret from him and truthfully you needed someone to go to about your relationship.

He shrugs off his jacket and carefully places it on you before zipping it up. No words are exchanged; they're not needed. The two of you have always been kindred spirits, understanding each other even when you don't understand yourselves.

"Let's get you home, you're trembling."

He hands you his helmet and you climb on the back of his bike silently, wrapping your arms around his torso tightly. Your head lays on his back in between his shoulder blades and he takes off, speeding through the dark streets toward the only place other than Rafe's arms you've ever truly felt like you belong.

He pulls up to John B's house and you trek inside to clean up while he rejoins the group in the hot tub. He's always given you space and you're grateful. The last thing you need right now is an interrogation and he knows that.

Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror and you sigh at your splotchy cheeks and puffy eyes. You wash your face with cold water and change into something comfier, raiding JJ's drawer in the guest room for a pair of his sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

You briefly consider just crawling into bed and sobbing, but decide that you won't let the rest of your night be ruined. It's been a while since you've gotten to hang out with your closest friends, and you know JJ will have you smiling and laughing by the end of the night.

Your best friend's face lights up when you reappear and he beckons you with a bright smile. They've moved away from the hot tub, now slotted around a large bonfire.

You return his grin the best you can and shuffle toward him, taking a seat by his side. His arm wraps around your back and he pulls you into him before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

You snuggle in closer, letting his bare chest warm you up as the aroma of his woodsy cologne mixed with scorched wood fills your nose. It feels so safe, and you relax into the familiar sensation.

Everyone is laughing loudly and passing around a joint as you stare into the flames. You're entranced by the way sparks fly and smoke billows as the fire dances in front of you. It's comforting and you lose yourself in your thoughts as you watch the embers float away.

JJ notices your blank stare as you focus on the way the fire turns from blue to orange to yellow and he gives you a small nudge.

"Earth to Y/N. You with me?"

There's a teasing lilt to his voice thinly disguising his worry and you smile up at him.

"Yeah, I'm with you J."

His hand squeezes your waist and he lowers his voice so that only you can hear him.

"I can see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours. Wanna talk about it?"

Your head shakes from side to side as you finally take the lit joint and inhale deeply before handing it back to him.

"No, I just want to have fun and not think for a while."

His dimples pop out as he grins down at you and he laughs.

"Well, you're in luck. Making you laugh and not thinking are my two specialties."

He stays true to his word, and within the hour you're riding a light buzz and laughing so hard your stomach hurts. Any thought of your fight with Rafe is miles away and joy swells in JJ's chest as he looks at your bloodshot eyes that are leaking tears of laughter instead of sorrow.

You're all so caught up in the moment that you don't even hear the roaring engine of Rafe's bike. He's spent the last two and a half hours in agony, pacing around his room with relentless tears and a runny nose.

He wanted to run after you and track you down, but he also didn't want to make it worse. He figured it was best to give you space, and he waited as long as he could before he couldn't bear it anymore.

He checked your location to confirm his suspicions and set off to get his girl. The two of you always had your location on, something that was done as a safety measure. You had completely forgotten about it, and silently kick yourself for not just turning your phone off.

"What are you doing?"

Everybody stiffens when his voice cuts through the conversation and you turn slowly to look at him, still in JJ's arms. You don't miss the way his hold tightens or the way his muscles flex and subconsciously lean further into him.

Everyone else is genuinely confused, lost as to why the oldest Cameron could possibly be standing in front of them right now.

Your eyes meet Rafe's and your stomach lurches at the mixture of anger and betrayal in his ocean-colored irises. You don't answer, the haze still fogging your reaction time, and he repeats his question with a little more urgency.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

Your brain seems to kick into gear and rage overtakes your senses.

"Just friend things." You bite, and Rafe physically recoils as you throw his own term back in his face.

You both know the implication behind your words and while you know that nothing is going on between you and the blonde surfer, Rafe doesn't. You expect your boyfriend - or maybe ex-boyfriend, you suppose- to flip shit, but instead, he just looks anguished.

You take in his appearance and your heart squeezes when you see he looks even worse off than you are. His eyes are red and swollen, there are dried tears on his face and neck, and if he still had his long hair you're sure it would be a disheveled mess from constantly running his hands through it.

By the grace of god, no one says anything even though you know they have a million questions and you internally battle yourself. You want to jump into Rafe's arms and apologize, but then again, what the hell do you have to apologize for?

He takes a tentative step forward and you squeeze JJ's knee when he shifts to stand. Rafe's eyes dart down at the movement and his gaze slowly lifts back up to meet yours. He's silently pleading with you, and against your better judgment, you cock your head to tell him you'll talk off to the side.

He follows you to a tree that's just out of listening range and you turn to look at him. He feels sick as he takes in your appearance. Your hair is in a bun and he can tell by your glossed-over eyes that you're high. What really catches his attention though is the fact that JJ's clothes are swallowing your frame whole.

He didn't realize how much he hates the image of you in another man's clothes, and he can't stomach the idea that this will be his reality if he can't change your mind.

He only ever wants you to wear his t-shirts, and though he's always given you shit over the fact that you've stolen every hoodie he's ever let you wear, he's now more than willing to give you his entire closet if it means he never has to feel this way again.

All he's been able to think about is you being alone and broken since you walked off. It hadn't even occurred to him that you weren't alone and that if you ended things you have people to come back to. You're all he has.

It didn't cross his mind that you would move on, and he'd have to watch you love someone else from afar. The idea drives him insane, and he's willing to go to the ends of the earth to prevent it from becoming reality.

If you told him right now to strip down and do a jig in front of the entire population of OBX, he would if it meant he doesn't have to spend the rest of his life mourning the one that got away.

You stare up at him defiantly as he squirms, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he tries to think of what to say.

"You and JJ…"

His question tapers off and you let it hang in the air and choke him for a second before answering.

"Nothing happened, I just said that to hurt you. Did it work? Thinking that I could have something with someone else?"

Rafe forgot how cold you can be when you've been scorned, the ice in your voice penetrating his veins and freezing his blood solid.

"Yes. Remarkably well."

Your eyes rake over his figure with scrutiny and you resist the urge to crumble under his spell.

"Good."

It's harsh, cruel even, but apparently he needs to be reminded that you know your worth and could easily find a replacement. It's a lie you tell yourself; you know that no one could ever replace Rafe, not really. Your soul is intricately entwined with his in ways you didn't know was possible.

He gives a curt nod and drops his eyes to the ground, unable to take the heartless glare you're giving him.

It's a sight to see; big bad Rafe Cameron insecure and floundering. It's a side of him that only you're able to bring out. He finally met his match; the one person out of eight billion that can bring him to his knees without a single word.

"I'm sorry."

He sounds like a scared little boy, and against your will, your heart sinks.

"For?"

An apology isn't enough; you need to know that he's aware of what he's apologizing for. You need to hear the words and acknowledgment leave his mouth.

"For flirting with that girl, and for making you feel like you're not worthy. Like you're not important to me and that I'm ashamed of you. Of us. I hate myself for making you think I don't love you."

You let the words sink in for a moment and shift on your feet, debating your next words.

"You have my heart in the palm of your hands, Rafe. I just never thought you'd intentionally crush it."

He loathes how small and meek your voice is, completely consumed by heartache. He'd take you raging and screaming at him over crying because of him any day.

"I know. I'm a fucking idiot, and it seems like no matter what choice I make it's always the wrong one. I need you to know that I'm trying. I'm trying to be better for you. You're it for me, Y/N. I'll do anything to make you see that, to feel that. Please, tell me you know that."

A single tear slips down your face and you turn your head to look out at the waves.

"I know."

Your voice is barely above a whisper, and more salty tears stain your cheeks when Rafe's hand reaches out to cup your chin and turn your head to look at him.

"Please, I promise that we can go public. I'll scream it from the rooftops, I don't care. Whatever you need, I'll do it. Nothing and no one is more important than you. You're part of me, and I think if I lost you I'd lose myself too."

In seconds, the wall that went up around your battered heart comes crashing down and you step forward into his arms. He engulfs you immediately, holding you with such force you're not sure how you can breathe.

You register wetness on your hair and lock your arms around his neck. Your hands play with the short hair at the nape of his neck and he cries even harder.

Despite what he's put you through, you're still willing to comfort him and he doesn't understand why. Your love for him is so pure and all-consuming, he's sure he isn't worthy.

The pogues watch intently, shocked by the sobs wracking the man's body. They've never seen Rafe show any emotion other than anger, and despite their initial disgust when he showed up, they figure you must be something special to elicit such raw vulnerability from the kook king.

"I don't deserve you. It was never you that's not good enough. It's me."

You only squeeze him tighter, pain squeezing your chest at his genuine despair.

"That's not true, Rafe. You're an idiot sometimes, but you're human. You're allowed to make mistakes, you just have to own up to them and rectify the situation."

He whimpers at your reassurance, the sentiment foreign to him. His entire life he's been held to a standard of perfection. He isn't used to getting a second chance, he barely gets a first.

"Don't ever do some dumb shit like this again, Rafe."

Your watery voice is muffled by his broad shoulder and he nods his head in the crook of your neck. The way he practically has to fold in half to place his face against your shoulder would almost be funny if it wasn't such a heartfelt moment.

Sarah snaps a picture of the tender affection and smiles at her phone, just happy to finally see her brother act like a human being.

"I promise, baby. I never want to be the cause of your tears and pain again. It hurts me."

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes before you tell the Pogues you're heading out.

"Are you okay?"

JJ is staring daggers at your boyfriend as he asks and you give him a tight hug.

"I'm good, JJ. Pinky promise."

He nods and lowers his lips to your ear.

"Call me if you need anything."

You press a kiss to his cheek and smile before nodding.

"Always."

You and Rafe make your exit, and for the first time, he takes you to Tannyhill to spend the night. Usually, the two of you crash at one of the unused estates, hidden away from the public.

Luckily, Ward and Rose are away for the weekend so you have time to come up with a game plan and mentally prepare for the nuclear fallout.

You're just settling into Rafe's bed wearing one of his Lacrosse hoodies from the academy when your phone dings. You frown at the Instagram notification and click it, your mouth dropping open when you see the post you were tagged in.

It's the picture Sarah took and sent to Rafe, along with a few more of the two of you at the beach and kissing.

Your pulse thrums in your ears as you see the likes growing and read the caption.

My entire heart

Rafe emerges from the bathroom as if he didn't just make the most shocking announcement Figure Eight has ever heard, and you stare at him dumbfounded.

"That was fast."

He laughs and shuts his phone off as it starts to explode with texts and crawls into bed.

"I'm not spending another second without the entire world knowing you're my girl."

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic

2K notes · View notes

ebaylee422 · 1 year

Text

I Want Your Video

Steve x Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: Steve won the poll, when I first started really reading fanfiction on tumblr early 2020-2021 there was a fic with mutual masturbation with BestFriend!Steve Harrington and this plays into the very heavy. I’ve been wanting to fuck you forever part for inspo. Also just love Djo’s music so a lot of my WIPs have titles of his music. Requests are open if you want more sexy Steve, thank you for reading!

Summary: Family Video just became a little less family friendly with the new addition of the 18 and older erotic video room. You are more curious than your co-workers about what a dirty movie includes, the sexual tension between you and dreamboat Steve Harrington does nothing for your pent up frustrations.

Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Family Video Worker!Reader, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Max, El and Will love to pester Steve at his jobs, and gross mentions of Keith.

Warning/Tags: SMUT (Minors DNI), Steve has a huge cock, dry humping, marking, fingering (f receiving), blow job, overstim, small nubbins of insecurities with reader and Steve, Steve and reader share playful banter, a ruined Armchair, dirty talk, pet names, riding (save a horse ride Steve Harrington), we all love boobies, creampie, cum play? As always lmk if I forgot anything!

Word Count: 6.2k

"Well I knew they called it Family Video for a reason, I just never thought they'd take it so literally." You said as the three of you looked to the closed door with the new 18 plus warning sign, taking away your break room.

"Please stop mentioning it.” Robin pinches at the bridge of her nose

"What? At least people don't like, deal porn or try to find it at a public library." Steve adds setting the return tapes on the counter.

"Why would someone go to the library for PORN?" Robin boasts turning to her best friend,

"I don't know Buckley, people are stupid when horny." Steve admonishes

“Does that mean your always horny?” You tease, Steve opens his mouth to retaliated but Robin stops him.

"No, now we just have Keith, who was already always in the back room. Potentially watching adult films on the clock and putting them back." Robin shakes in disgust.

"Like a trial run, he’ll be able to give great recommendations." You add nose scrunched with laughter bubbling in your chest.

"Ew gross." Robin said nauseated

"Look he's creepy, but Keith is not that brave. Any one of us could walk back there." Steve says pointing to the ever closed office and backroom where Keith either naps or throws together a schedule.

"Maybe he wants to be caught?" you nod, taking new tapes to stock in the romance section.

“Maybe he wants you to catch him?” Steve wiggles his eyebrows following you,

"Maybe you want me to smack you in the face-" You turn to find him closer than you anticipated only a few inches separating your body from his.

"What? Don't be a prude now, you're the one who made the conversation interesting." Steve cut you off, chest puffed in challenge. His woodsy, ash, and vanilla smell intoxicating you as the spearmint on his breath floated you back to reality.

"That's because I'm interesting." You dare with a raised eyebrow, as his eyes flicker to your cherry lips.

"God please stop flirting in front of me or I'll get a cavity." Robin whines behind the counter.

"We're not flirting-" You scold, "Okay-" Steve holds his hands up in defense at the same time. You huff and continue down the aisle to stock, red in the face with embarrassment.

Towards the end of your shift the school rush dying down, you sit on the counter with Robin inventorying returns in the computer. Steve is holding the door open for a blonde girl popping her bubble gum with glossed lips. Giggling as Steve makes a fool of himself her chest rising with the laughter, over a Star Wars joke she didn’t understand. Explaining how she had been looking for the film in Alderaan places, and how he was always happy to help a pretty girl like her.

You understood the joke, just because he didn’t know what Ewoks were didn’t mean he never paid attention when you talked about your favorite sci-fi series.

“Stupid.” You mumbled under your breathe, rewinding tapes.

“Huh?” Robin asked, her doe eyes floating along the computers interface confused her mouth hung open.

"Robs, have you ever watched an adult film?" You asked, aggravated and pent up.

"Yeah but there's not a lot in my area of attraction so I just stick to the magazines." Robin motioned toward herself, still clueless to your annoyance.

"Uh-huh, well I want to watch one." Finally being decisive on the embarrassing topic,

"Are we seriously still talking about this?" Steve chips in

"Did you seriously just strike out? You talked with her for like 30 seconds." You said infuriated, turning around to see him leaning over the counter with his stupid fluffy hair and tight polo. Sans a phone number written on his arms or a torn piece of notebook paper.

"Just remember Y/N that's all a man can give sometimes, porn isn't realistic." Robin added knocking her head into your leg in frustrated groan.

“How would you know that?” Steve scrutinized his best friend,

“Is it true?!” Robins eyes were blown wide in astonishment, they immediately started arguing with you the only barrier between them.

"Okay, I'm just gonna go back there and pick one." You slide from the counter, move Robin out of your way, they paused mid-argument to poke at you.

"Go for it, have fun." Robin called

"But not too much!" Steve yelped when she pinched him,

Opening the cliché room, of neon lights with each film had it’s own space on the shelves you began to read some of the titles. Private Teacher, Taboo, I Like to be Watched, Educating Nina, Talk Dirty to Me 1 and 2, 8 to 4, there's honestly too many. So let's just say that the first one, Private Teacher, sounds like it has some plot. You slip it into your vest, walking out of the room to find Steve surrounded by his children.

“Please Steve what’s back there?”

“We just want to take a quick peak!”

“For the millionth time, no. You’re barely 13!”

“We’re actually 14 and or older Steve.” Max says deadpan standing arms crossed next to a girl you think was named Jane or El you weren’t 100% sure.

“Yeah kids leave the guy alone just because he would sneak you into the movie's at Scoops does not mean you get free rain of the porno’s.”

“Porno’s?!” Dustin yells as the rest of the kids shush him, looking around the other Family Video patrons.

“Yeah that’s enough Steve’s posse, your scaring away paying customers.” You shush them out the door,

"Come on, I bet you have some criticism about at least one of these dirty movies." Robin asks Steve who is using every fiber in his being not to embarrass himself in front of you.

"Actually, I haven't watched any of them yet," Steve says while he re-faces the horror films the kids probably messed with earlier.

“Bullshit-” You butt in, Steve turns to defend himself but is saved by Robin’s blabbermouth.

"I do but mostly for the... well you know, porno's aren't progressive in my territory yet." Robin held up the one, where the woman's boobs were almost completely out of her bra and there was a string of spit from her mouth to them.

"Well we could change this week's movie night at my place? This one seemed well loved. 3 rents already, and it’s only been a few weeks." I grabbed 'Private Teacher' walking over to Steve, the man had the woman bent over the desk, one of his hands pulling her hair so show her face for the camera. Her school girl costume left a tasteful amount of skin on show just for the cover. The tagline read ‘Sometimes A Little Private Instruction Is All You Need To Make The Grade’

He only glanced at the cover, "Yeah I'm good, I get my fill with my right hand and watching sappy some romance movies over and over again."

"Ewwww," Robin drones behind the counter. You laugh at his in response holding onto your sides while walking back over to her.

"Obviously, not in that order!" He follows, you pull out some rental money setting on the counter as Robin rang it up.

"Oh come on now, Stevie don't be the prude of the group. Robin will be there too and I know you don't have anything better to do. Since you're always at my house anyway." He scoffs hiding the tape under his elbow when another customer walks in.

"Yeah to get away from my asshole Dad, not to watch porn with you."

"I think he would enjoy the fact you're actually finding a hobby," Robin says, putting the tape into a plastic bag, brushing some hair out of Steve's face. He sticks out his tongue mocking her.

"Yes Robin, you're a truly hilarious comedian of the century. What do I have to do for you both to drop this? Especially as my best friend and basically my boss." You giggle at the obvious answer.

"Just come by tonight, Steve. I don’t wanna watch this alone. And like always bring your tissues for the movie," Robin almost falls over laughing, when you lean over the counter pressing a kiss to his heated cheek before waving goodbye. You spend the rest of your night picking up the apartment, filling the fridge with your friends favorite snacks, and vacuuming. You thought about lighting a candle, debating if that was too romantic to watch a Porno with your co-workers. Lighting it against those thoughts because it made the place smell nice. A knock at the door took you away from the sink of dishes from your breakfast.

“Come in! It’s open guys!” You yell turning off the faucet,

“What if I was a serial killer, Y/N? You’d let me wander about your living room?” Steve brushed his front past you setting a six-pack in the fridge.

“The only serial thing you are Steve is a serial pain in my butt.” You stick you tongue out, head lurching towards the direction of the living room only to find it empty.

“Ha-ha, ha.” Steve mocked, taking off his grey jacket to lay it across the counter before nose diving into the fridge again.

"How was your day? Where’s Buckley?" You pondered wiping your wet hands, the moving his jacket to a chair at the small four person dining table.

“Hanging out with a girl. And other than this chick at work begging me to watch porn with her, it was actually really busy." He threw a grape at where you were at the table, tossing a handful into his mouth with a crunch.

"I totally forgot about it until I was grabbing my wallet at the store, I was kinda embarrassed when I rediscovered it. The lady probably thought I was high as a kite!"

"Because you are," he drooled a little bit, speaking with a full mouth, raiding the fridge full of groceries.

"There's nothing wrong with blowing off some steam with a bit of erotica. Everyone does it," you turned tossing the soiled grape back at him, joining him in the kitchen again.

"Yeah that's gross, it's unspoken. Even creepy old men who can't get it up do it." He swallowed his mouth full then making an obscene gesture with his hand.

"Ew, gross Steve.” You say hands held up in disgust,

"See-"

"Well I'm not a creepy old man," You argued, taking the tape out of your bag. "Besides, it can't be that good or bad. Almost like a true neutral, just people going at it like animals." Walking into the living room, you closed the blinds and navy curtains before setting the tape into the already plugged in VCR.

"Okay hang on a minute, there's way better ways at blowing off steam." Steve interrupts, the fridge slams as his steps grow louder.

"Name a few for me, Lover Boy." You scoffed still bent at the waist, setting everything up at the entertainment center. Round shape of your ass in those acid wash jeans begging to be released. The sight made Steve’s own tighter around his crotch.

"I don't think you want to know mine," he says breathlessly, voice a bit deeper. You stood up and turned to where he stood, his back up against the archway that separated the two rooms. The tape started playing in the middle of the stars going at each other, extremely loud feminine moans rang from the Television. It broke you from the stare down, rushing to turn it down. He came up behind you on the rug, turning everything off altogether. After a pause of shock, you rolled over laughing against the entertainment center, covering your red face with your hands. Steve huffed sitting back on his calves, laughing at it as well. Eyes drifting to the swell of your chest as the laughing made it rise a fall. Dragging the hands down your face, leaning against the shelves. You clocked his stare immediately, his pupils are blown wide, lips slick as if he just wet them. Polo tight across his shoulders but untucked showing off a flash of his soft tummy. You swallowed hard catching your breath.

“Steve?” You reach out to him, his arms grip back at your elbows pulling you up on your knees towards his knees. “I wanna know, I want to know.” His nose pressed to your cheek, lip grazing over yours as he spoke.

“I can show you.” His voice broke, husky and deep exhale along your skin. Your resolve faltered lips fitting like a puzzle against his. You pulled far enough away to split for air, only Steve followed pressing you closer together. Hand resting along your neck, holding you to him.

"What's wrong?" You looked at him worried a line creasing your forehead he reached out to soothe.

"Nothing, you're just so...beautiful." He let his eyes wander, admiring that you’d even gave him the time of day.

“I want you. I want you to show me.”

“Okay.” Connecting again fireworks exploded behind your eyes. He pulled your top lip between his, you returned by licking the slope of his bottom lip from an open mouth kiss. Steve groaned, allowing you in. He tasted of the grapes from moments ago and spearmint of the gum he chewed to stop smoking, it was sickly sweet. My hand from his thigh came up to brush away the free fallen hair from getting in our way, the strands of hair were so soft, surprising, no matter how many times you’d wished to touch them. Pushing your chest against his, raising up on your knees deepening the kiss. He sunk down to a seated position, crossing his legs and leaning his head back to a lower level. It gave more access, he kept his hands in nice places like; nape of your neck, tangled hair, cheeks, small of the back and waist. You nipped his bottom lip, pulling gently then watched it fall back in place. He gripped one of your thighs, sending shocks of anticipation up your core. He kneaded, silently wanting for sometime. Everything was too good to break away and use words. You just obediently moved one leg at a time to sit on his lap. Using his shoulders to steady, lowering onto his lap. He whimpered in anticipation in you mouth, your heat grazed the zipper of his jeans. At the friction you gasped, lips swollen and lungs out of air, as you pressed foreheads together. Eyes opening to see him staring with hopefulness, eyes wide open. You teased lightly trailing lips over his. Waiting for a reaction, but he stayed firm. Hands on the ground by his sides holding you upright. Breathing as one for a moment before he spoke,

"I've thought about this moment for a very long time," He said only for the two of you, your fingers rubbed the five o’clock shadow of his jaw in your waiting hands "I want to, so terribly. I don't know where to go from here..."

He smiled a dorky smile into your skin, keening at the contact of you against him.

"Then stop talking and kiss me again." He obeyed, trailing his lips down to your jaw, throat and to your collar, moving the fabric slightly he started softly sucking and rolling his tongue over the area. Your hands desperately clung to the back of his head, he moved closer to the pot of your collarbones and throat leaving wet kisses. He stopped his mouth looking up, with those caramel eyes so full of devotion. Mind going fuzzy, seeing the way he not only looked but saw into you. The way he always has. "Don’t stare at me like that,"

"Like what?" He let the collar of the shirt scrunch back in place the movement made you squeeze your thighs around his middle, eyes rolling back in his skull.

"Like you want to kiss me or something." His hands both came up to brush his thumbs along your ribs, fronts pressed against each other.

"I will never stop looking at you like that, no matter what happens.” He smiled, “I gave you my heart long ago." You kissed him more primal this time, needing to taste him and etch the feeling of him into your mind. He was moaning into the embrace, he still barely touched as you tugged at his shirt below, when he broke contact to pull it over his head you stopped the kiss to admire his chest.

"Steve..." You wheezed through bloated lips. "Touch me, it's okay. You can't hurt me" He kissed back hard, slipping his hands underneath your tight work shirt, his hands cold against the hot skin covering your spine. Breaking free from his lips pressing kisses on his face, down his throat cooing into him when he unclasped your bra with one hand in a single fluid motion. Running his hands over your bare back, unknowingly while you rotated your hips in small circles against his wanting more. Craving the contact and friction of him against you. He daintily ran his hands down your body hesitantly gripping the plush of your ass adding more pressure to the growing friction. His zipper felt so good against your own, letting go of your lips on his neck throwing your head back. As the feeling of his hard-on pressed up against your clit. Putting both hands on the floor behind you while he moved your hips against each other in sync, panting and grinding seeking release. Steve's abdomen flexed as he twitched under you, he was cumming loudly moaning your name from his pink lips. It sounded like a song when he said it, his release came fast, his chest heaving heavily as he pulled your body back against him. Hugging each other till lips grazed, as he came down from his high. You tried to suppress the giggle as his hands traced shapes along the small of your back.

"What are you so giddy about? You just made me cream my pants like a middle schooler." You shook your head tracing at the mark I left on his shoulder,

"Well since we're already past the point of no return. I didn't think you would be so loud." you pulled back lip bitten between teeth,

"Maybe if you weren't mauling me like a hungry lion, I could've stayed quiet." He tucks his head under your chin,

"I told you, I’m a lion girl not a ninja.” He laughed across your throat warming you as he kissed the flesh again. “Maybe I should pounce effectively, so I can really hear you scream my name." Steve stopped abruptly to meet your eyes, pupils blown wide, you felt immediately self-conscious blabbering out an apology before he could turn you down. "I’m so sorry, was that too much?"

"No...” He purred, this close you could tell the scent of him was distinctly cedar. “I've actually never been more turned on." He pushed his lips to mine, rolling our tongues against each other, knowing exactly what you liked. He tightened his grip on on the fat of your hips and making you moan into him, pulling away his lips, forehead glistening, his eyes full of lust. He trailed his fingers up to help the offensive fabric of your shirt off, the bra slowly falling the rest of the way off your shoulders. His length twitched against the inside of your thigh again, he was entranced by the image. Still as a statue until guiding his lips down to the spot on you chest that made the world melt. He kissed everywhere, you kept each hand in his hair scratching at his scalp pleasantly. Leaning forward he placed your back against the carpet, hovering on top of but keeping himself slotted between your legs. Involuntarily moaning when he licked at erect nipple, he mirrored the same to the other one. His dick throbbed against the stain of cum, straining against the fabric. Kissing each while he unzipped the high waist of your jeans. You bucked your hips and helped him pull them down, he took them off your trapped ankles, restarting his descent to kiss down the length of your body again. Wet open mouth kisses making shooting sparks through your body at the intimate contact, grabbing his hand on the ground.

“You are even more beautiful than my dreams ever allowed. Everything, you are everything.” His eyes silently asking for permission. As he slid a hand under the fabric of the green panties. You gasped loudly at the unbridled new contact of his palm, lowering to gather the dampness, trailing it up to your clit. He circled twice as his other fingers began to slowly plunge inside. You keened, calves dug into the bare flesh around his waist, “You're so wet for me,” sighing, hands finding purchase on his biceps, he hissed as his face fell into your neck.

“Uhh… Harder.” You held his arms with such intensity, leaving crescent marks into the skin digging hard into his muscle. Turning you chin down to find his lips to kiss, and silencing moans together his thumb began to swirl faster, his middle and ring finger able to go a little deeper with the changing hand position. Not being able to control the heat coursing through, you squeezed his hips harder. He whimpered, pressing himself up against your thigh rutting the fabric against himself for some contact. “Your fingers feel so good…” Moving lower, spreading wider to move your hips against his fingers, they worked expertly to consume all your senses. He pushed in a little further and harder, forcing you to look at what he was doing so wonderfully between your legs. Moaning obscene words, as your back arched further his fingers scissoring to stretch your walls. Clenching around his fingers that disappeared inside. “Holy shit- don’t stop.” Your hands fell to the floor grabbing the shag of the rug underneath, as muscles tensed unlike anything you’ve felt before. You came hard without warning, the orgasm spread through you, completely overwhelming, your legs shook out your high as he kept going, pressure building through your bladder before you felt a light gush.

"Fuck" He whispered in you ear, you could feel the shit eating grin off of his body language.

"I haven’t done that before," you tell him.

"Yeah me either, ya know to a girl… I do that every time," he said into your neck, your cheeks instantly flushed. Laughing at his dorkiness, he moved your panties back in place. His fingers parted his lips, licking them clean of your arousal. You felt him throbbing against your thigh as you lightly pushed off the ground. Taking Steve's hand, you pushing him back to climb on the Lazy Boy you'd recently bought.

“What are you thinking, Sweets?” his voice was dark, he moved up the chair and sat. Spreading his legs for you, like the good boy he’d been.

“I just want to clean up my seat, Lover Boy.” You knelt down unbuckling his jeans, pulling them down and his ruined underwear. Letting him finally be free from the confines of the fabric, his cock flung back up pre leaving a pearlescent trail on the course hair of his happy trail. Steve was massive, how he’d fit into those jeans daily made your head spin. You would make him fit, even if his cock impaled your insides.

“You don’t have to, no one’s been able to take all of me before.” He took your wanderlust as fear, and shit now you had to prove him wrong too. Your nails ran up his thighs as you collected some spit in the front of your mouth. Letting it drip onto the head, nails gripping his thigh to hold him in place you took the other hand and ran it across his length. Hitting the large vein along his shaft with your thumb, he pushed his head back against the plush chair. Fighting to buck up into you with everything in his body and mind not to blow his load again or buck up into you. He was breathing extremely heavily now, you gently kissed his red tip and watched as his fingers dug into the armrests. He held his breath a bit before you squeezed his thigh, then he exhaled. You then licked a long stripe down his shaft, you came back up to the tip flicking it with your tongue.

“Jesus, stop with the teasing Sweets,” You smiled like a siren, before holding him with a hand stroking up and down with your lips wrapped around the tip. He accidently to bucked his hips, you pressed his pelvis down taking in his full length.

“Holy shit!” Steve gasped. Hollowing your cheeks, you worked him to a pulp as your jaw went slack. His hands reached out to grab the hair that fell covering how you looked sucking him. Pulling it all to one hand, he didn’t need to guide your head, you were able to bob your head down him with a fair amount of ease with how wet you’d gotten his shaft. Tearing up and gaging if you went too slow, but it was well worth the noises coming from his beautiful lips. He watched in awe as you swallowed around him, eyes watery and spit slick chin, moving your second hand under his heavy sack you massaged them with each upstroke. HIs eye closed tightly as he twitched inside your mouth throwing his head back warning you. You took it all with a delightful swallow, helping him ride out the rest of his high with a hand. The only time he pulled his makeshift ponytail was when he could’ve cried from the stimulation. You relented with a pornographic pop, wiping your chin with the back of your hand and slowly stood going to straddle him, he playfully grabbed your body and pulled you to him on the lounge chair.

“That was way better than any other girl or me just watching porn.” you looked at him mouth agape, he was eye level with your bare chest.

“See, I knew you watched porn. A shit ton of it.” you slapped his chest.

“Yeah, but nothing compares to the real thing,” he began to kiss the marks he already started on your chest, in places only he’d only been allowed too. Your hands cupped his face for him to look at you. He smiled his beautiful heartfelt smile,

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“I don’t know but Robin is the best wing women ever. She told me if I didn’t kiss you tonight I shouldn’t even bother showing my face at work tomorrow.”

“Wait, what is Robin doing?”

“She cancelled so we could in her words ‘either fuck away the tension out or kill each other’ .”

“Well she is definitely my favorite lesbian. That multi-lingual B is a genius. I would’ve let you do this even if you’d just. I don’t know asked me on a date.”

“Bullshit-, really?”

“Are you kidding?! You are so out of my league Steve, I’ve never been in your ballpark ever in my life.” He grimaces, thumb tracing idling along your hip bone.

“I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful, smart and caring girl. I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and I selfishly want you all to myself.” he whispers with affection you’d never heard from him before. Adam’s apple bobbing with his thick swallow of emotion.

“Then you have me.” he bit back a smile as his lip clashed with yours passionately kissing you, he faintly pulled your hair. You moaned at the action, spine tingling as you roamed your hands around his frame. Mapping out ever mole and divot along his heated skin. Trailing them back and forth on his chest like a sensual massage. He moved his hands to get a better angle on your hips, and began rowing them against himself. You both groaned at the friction, “Look who’s the tease now,” you pouted at him as a finger inched it way to your clit tracing tight consistent circles. Your nails tear at his shoulders with pleasure, making him shudder under you. ‘God how many rounds could you go with him’ “Please… uh. Tell me you're ready.” you push your head into his neck, his fingers had already fine-tuned your pleasure. He stopped, fingers yanking your scalp to crash your lips to his. He still rowing you against his length, until his lungs screamed for air.

“I’m always ready, how do you feel about this?” he stops his motions, you felt unfulfilled when the movement ceased. You brain finally grasping some clarity, Steve would stop everything here if you wanted him too. Helping you re-dress and seeing himself out. Never telling a soul if you’d asked, he’d be celibate if you’d ask. Buying you the finest ring until your wedding night then ravishing you in your honeymoon bed.

“This doesn’t change the way I feel about you. You’re perfect to me Steve.” he gave you a sinful smile, reaching his hand under your adjoined hips pushing you up onto your knees. While he finished working himself up, you waited as patiently as you could by marking his neck.

“God you're so wet for me, these panties are drenched after sucking me. We should’ve gotten rid of them, already.” His eyes were playful, and needy for more and all of you. He helped you stand, putting your hands on his shoulder to balance you as you took them off. Just the sight of you fully naked made his heart ache, he kissed your arm lips too far for his liking. Wanting even more contact, he grabbed your waist again leaning back into the chair. You kissed him lazy, you both were fucked out of your minds already. Now it was just comforting, you had all the time in the world. It was slow, sweet, his lips were so soft you still felt them all over your body. His hands roamed but craved to rest on your chest above your heart. You pressed your forehead against his, catching your breath. His hands on your hips, guided you gently down as you felt him at your entrance.

“Take your time, Sweets. I want us to enjoy this,” nipping at your forearm while sitting himself farther up the chair, feet still planted on the ground.

“You want me to top, you?”

“Is that a problem?”

“I haven’t done that… Before.” You told him shyly,

“Well, well. Looks like we're about to enter a new realm of pleasure for you…” Licking his lips, “just take me in your hand and guide yourself down at your own speed, Sweetheart.” His comforting words sent a tingle down your spine, you put your hands on the soft skin where his pelvis lies. He just observes your movements gripping your hips like a steering wheel, mouth awestruck as you lower yourself down onto him. His hands dig into you, as you let him fill your insides. Immediately he’s touching things you’ve never felt, it’s painful in the most remarkable way.

“Shit, babe. Oh my god. Didn’t-Didn’t think you’d take all of me on the first go.” he shifts pulling your chest so he can latch on to his dark purple mark there. It causes a rush inside you even just the slight motion making you want to explode.

“Feels so full, god your fucking humongous Steve.” You whined, high pitched and needy. The ach of his cock started to morph from a burn to a stretch faster than you thought as your arousal dripped down your thighs. In brief circles you moved your hips against him, keeping him completely sheathed inside. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, he moves his hands to your thighs squeezing hard making you grind faster. He comes up for air from you chest and lets out a gracious moan,

“Stevie, pull the handle.” you whimper at him,

“What?” he mutters breathlessly.

“Holy shit, just…” you're on the brink of another powerful orgasm, pussy gripping him like a vice ”pull the handle back, trust me.” he lets go of one of your thighs frantically looking for the handle on the side of the recliner. He finally finds it and pulls hard, sending his lower body up into yours and your upper body over his. You both moan in ecstasy, his hand going back to your thigh. Sitting back up, you place one hand on his lower abdomen and the other on his hairy thigh behind you. He continues to groan affirmations and your name at the changed position, sending you over a small cliff. Only adding to the larger knot in your stomach, running up your body.

“Keep going I want you to cum, cum around my fat cock.”

“Don’t stop, stay right there. I want it all.” You pant feeling him twitch inside you, moving your hips with his.

“God you're so wet, and you ride me so good Sweetheart.” he playfully smacks your ass, you change your position again to bring your lips to his. He moves your body up and down while kissing you, letting you dominate his mouth while he starts to push harder into you. Propelling himself up, while his hands push you down into him in an erratic give and take. This is what you’ve needed, this was perfect but not even the start for both of you. He continues to praise you through breaths of pleasure “I got you” , “I can make you feel so good, Sweetheart.”, he gets filthier and louder and you keep moving, riding each other to passionate oblivion. Your mind ventures to his lips all over you, yours on him, the coil in between you wraps him tightly inside you. Your body starts to shake from the high, you press your upper body against his chest the hair rubbing against your hardened nipples.

"Good girl, milk my cock. Feels so good, gunna cum. You gotta move Sweets."

“Want to feel you, feel you dripping out of me Steve.” He mewls, clinging to you.

“Shit. Beg me for it, tell me how bad you want me to cum inside you.”

“Oh Steve,” you open your eyes, pressing your forehead down to meet him, his open too. You clutch your walls around him harder as he tries to finish riding your orgasm, “Please.” You whimper. That’s all it takes he gasps and finally bursts in you. Lips soothing against yours for that other contact. You feel the hot liquid inside you, wringing him dry of everything that he could possibly have left.

Separating for air out of the kiss, feeling his hot breaths against your cheeks, he groans, swallowing hard at the sensitivity. You brush your hair off of your sweaty face, holding onto the back of his neck to see him better. His eyes gleamed with passion, you smiled back.

“My legs are jelly,” you laugh in his face,

“I’ll take that as an answer to my question then,” he smiles, lifting your hips up. He easily slips out of you, you groan in frustration at the emptiness between your legs. Hissing at the loss as well, his abs quiver against the softness of your soft tummy. He pushes the foot rest back, so he can sit upright in the chair. Capturing his lips in yours, leaning you back as he holds you manhandling your hips, rotating you forward to help you stand.

“I could kiss you forever.” He admits kissing your shoulders as you put your feet on the cold floor, pushing off of his knees. You wobble slightly,

“See,” you turned to face him again, pulling him up to stand together face to face. He stumbled a bit too, “completely fucked out of my mind.” He wraps his arms around your waist swaying you slightly in an embrace.

“You did so good, Sweetheart. We should get cleaned up.”

“I did good, how did you not run out of cum? Three rounds your insatiable.”

"Told you, I don't joke about my porn." He winks, kissing the corner of your mouth as he picks up your discarded clothes on the floor of the living room.

"No wonder you're idolized by 14 year old boys." You roll your eyes, picking up your panties. This time when you bend own he can see his spend dripping down your slit. He chuckles from behind you a free hand, coasting down your stomach to your heat. You gasp as his fingers collect his cum from your thighs, you spin in his hold to meet his eyes.

"Open." Steve commands, eyes clouding with lust as he watches you stick your tongue out for him. His fingers slide along your tongue covered in each other's spend. It's comforting, salty, and heady against your tongue. You moan around him, sucking the taste clean from his fingers. He fingers slip out tongue replacing them, as he tips your chin up to meet his lips deeper, tongue kneading yours as he memorizes you. Inside and out.

“You know,” You murmur into his mouth as his mouth strays from yours coasting to mouth down your jaw. “I have a camcorder somewhere in my closet.” He freezes lips parted and eyes wide.

“Yeah? You don’t want to finish the movie? I was just starting to enjoy it.” You pout your lips, while he picks up all of the clothes from various places you threw them.

“Yeah... We could or..?”

“Or?”

“If you wanted we could make are own video?” Steve doesn’t even dictate your question with a response only hoisting you over his shoulder and burying you in the mattress for the rest of the night.

Masterlist

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #family video #lesbians are the best wing women #robin buckley matchmaker #stranger things smut #stranger things season 4 #no minors allowed #reader insert #oneshot #stranger things

2K notes · View notes

euphorajeon · 1 year

Text

taste your whiskey kiss | jjk

— pairing: boxer!jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff (?) | college!au, boxer!jk

— word count: 1.2k

— warnings: long-haired, glasses-wearing jk, annoying jk, oc still wont admit that jk is hot, jk is supposed to be a cs student, making out, mention of oral sex (f. receiving), this is plotless honestly i just miss boxer!gguk T_T

— summary: long-haired jeongguk is a menace. long-haired, glasses-wearing jeongguk is even worse.

— author's note: boxer!gguk is back at last! sorry for the (again) weird summary though. i wrote this in one sitting after that YTC in Busan episode came out and jeongguk blessed us with him wearing glasses :))) anyways. hope you enjoy!

— tags: @dunixxd

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

“Glasses?”

You look up to accept the peck your boyfriend gives you as a greeting while he hums a confirmation, the object perched on his nose knocking against your nose lightly. It’s sled down his nose so much that he looks like a grandpa from your point of view.

“Since when do you wear glasses??”

“Since my mom decided that putting my eyes five centimeters from my computer screen is not good for my sight.” Jeongguk’s hand moves to his nose to adjust his glasses. “She said my codes would never work if I keep mistaking commas for periods.”

You let out a sigh as he takes a seat on his desk chair, his computer displaying lines upon lines of codes you’d never be able to understand.

“You could zoom in, you know, instead of doing a staring contest with the screen,” you say matter-of-factly, sitting cross-legged on his bed. Jeongguk spins his chair around just to give you a one-eyebrow-raise.

“And where’s the fun in that?”

The playful smirk he sports afterwards makes you roll your eyes, not getting why your boyfriend enjoys flirting with danger like that.

“Besides, I can’t see the whole code if I zoom in. Hard to see where it went wrong.”

“Yeah, keep making excuses until you go blind,” you frown as you look at his eyes behind the round lenses. “I won’t help you if you run yourself into a pole.”

Jeongguk shakes his head in mock disappointment. “That’s harsh, babe.”

“That’s your reality if you keep damaging your eyes.”

“Why are you suddenly so hostile? It’s just a pair of glasses.” Jeongguk runs a hand through his long hair, visibly getting frustrated with your elevated emotions.

“I don’t know!” Oh, you do know. “Just— get back to your codes. We can talk about this later.”

“I have something else to do later,” your boyfriend bites back with just as much fervor. “But sure, I can spare some time to talk to you about my glasses.”

He turns back around in his chair and you’re left to stare at the black wavy hair that curls around his nape as he types away on the keyboard.

Despite your denial earlier, you know exactly what got you so worked up like this.

It’s the same thing you felt when Jeongguk first showed up on your doorstep with piercings and a tattoo sleeve, the same thing you felt when he provoked you in the gym, the same thing you felt when he dyed his hair to your favorite color.

You hide behind worrying for his wellbeing when all you want to do is scream how hot he is to his face.

It’s truly unfair how your boyfriend manages to look so hot even in something as simple as a pair of glasses. A pair of prescription glasses at that, too. That combined with the long hair that frames his handsome face perfectly might just be the death of you. It takes everything in you not to pull him away from his coding assignment to tug at his hair as you explore his mouth with your tongue.

Your mind is reeling thinking that all of this is just because one single pair of prescription glasses. And the hair too, you guess, but it’s not like you haven’t experienced what long-haired Jeongguk is like in bed. (He made sure you know that he was a menace a few weeks ago when his hair only reached a bit below his ears.)

By now, you should be immune to whatever shit he’s going to pull, yet here you are.

Half an hour pass before Jeongguk stops typing and lets out a sigh, turning his chair around to face you once again.

“I can’t focus when I know you’re upset with me.” His tone is curt, like you being upset is wasting his time. “So talk.”

“You’re the one who asked me to come, then you blame me when you can’t focus?” you scoff.

“Didn’t think you’d get upset over my fucking glasses.”

“You’re only wearing glasses because you’re too stupid to think that exposing your eyes to such short distance to your monitor is not gonna damage them! You’re the reason why I’m upset!”

“Oh really? Isn’t it because I look too hot in these glasses but you have too much pride to say it to my face?”

You force yourself to sound firm in your one-worded response. “No.”

“No? As in you don’t wanna make out with me right now and fog up my glasses?”

“N-no.”

You’re wavering. It’s over.

“Okay.” Jeongguk shrugs. “I want to make out with you.” The stare he gives you is piercing. “So climb onto my lap and let me take those feisty bites I know you’re dying to give.”

It doesn’t take a second for you to leap off the bed onto his lap, crashing your lips to his in a mess of teeth and tongue. Feels like dejavu when you tug at his lip ring hard enough to make him let out a whimper of pain.

“Why are you so annoying?” you manage to say in between kisses. “If you wanted to make out you could’ve just said so from the fucking start.”

Jeongguk hums, hands on your waist to pull you even closer to him. “You’re more fun when riled up.”

You grab a fistful of his hair and yank hard upon hearing his reason. “Say that again and I’ll withdraw any form of physical intimacy for a month.”

“See?” He grins. “Feisty.”

“Fuck, just kiss me.”

He does, biting your lips and licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue you can’t help but moan. It just fuels him even further to tighten his grip on your body and steal all the breath away from your lungs.

“Should I— fuck— put on the tongue piercing?” he asks when you roll your hips against his, creating a delicious friction between your bodies.

“No,” you pant. “That thing is— wait.” You pull away a fraction when you remember his words from earlier. “Didn’t you say you have to do something else?”

“Make out with you.”

His lips chase yours but you evade them, confused. “Huh?”

“My to-do-list. For today. Make out with you. Nothing else.”

You let him capture your bottom lip between his lips to suck and chew on like a kid would to a jelly while you contemplate the meaning behind his answer.

Once you understand, you deliver a harsh bite to his bottom lip, making him hiss (in pleasure or pain, you don’t care.)

“Yeah, babe, hurt me with your mouth,” he moans, but it doesn’t last long as he pulls away with another hiss.

“Ah, gotta take these off though, it’s digging into my nose.”

He slips the glasses off his nose, a faint red mark from where it pressed too hard on his skin. You move to place a soft kiss against the flesh, a stark contrast to how you’ve been kissing each other seconds ago.

“That’s what you get for being annoying.”

“Your kiss? Yes please.”

“Shut up.”

He dives back in for your lips, but barely a second pass when he pulls away again, making you groan impatiently. “For someone who wants to make out with me, you sure are pulling away a lot.”

“Just thinking,” he says. “How about I put on the tongue piercing and eat you out until you beg me to stop? Last time you only lasted three, let’s make it five this time, hm?”

You give him six.

a/n: i haven't written in 4 months so i apologize that this is bad hehe. thanks for reading! any feedbacks here will be appreciated :D

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msgexymunson · 2 years

Text

Keep Up With Me

Sub!Eddie x Dom!Fem!Reader

Description: your boyfriend breaking up with you because you're too much for him to handle might be the best thing that's happened to you. It's certainly the best thing that's happened to Eddie!

A/N: bitta angst, mostly smut, best friends to lovers, not me and my horny ass projecting again promise, I'm English excuse my language tally ho what what

Warnings: use of pet names (baby girl, sweetheart etc) reader uses she/her pronouns, NSFW, minors DNI or I'll smack you with a wet fish, F!Masturbation, lap riding, M!Oral receiving, slight M! Orgasm denial, p in v protected sex

5k words

Masterlist

You perch on the corner of the checkout counter at Family Video, legs swinging, fingers tapping on the side.

"So, apparently that makes me some sort of slut." You looked at Robin, one of your closest friends, and shrugged.

"Shit, what an asshole! So he basically dumped you because he couldn't keep up with you?"

"Yup. Sad ain't it." You inspect your fingernails, trying to come off as more aloof than you actually felt. You weren't in pain as such, not from losing that asshole, it's just his words kept ringing in your head.

Why do you want to fuck all the time? Must be some sorta slut. Are you a freak or something? What's wrong with you?

The harsh, sobering words ran through your head on a loop, wearing you down even further.

"Hey, I know that look, stop thinking about that jerk he did NOT deserve you, seriously! You just gotta find someone else, you always do." Robin stares at you, hand hovering over yours.

"That's the problem aint it. I just do this over and over. Too fricking horny for my own good!" You laugh; Robin giggles with you. "Hey there's worse problems to have!" You both chuckle for a bit, but you're still upset about his words. Slut. Freak. "Maybe I am a freak." You sigh.

"Whose a freak?"

You jump, and look around. Eddie Munson, your other best friend and long time crush, had just walked in the door. He flashed you a lazy smile, brown doe eyes creased at the corners.

"We are not talking about you Edward if that's what you think."

Eddie mimes being shot in the chest. "Oh sweetheart you wound me! Don't call me that." He pouts at you.

"It's your name, isn't it?" You poke your tongue out at him.

"Urgh, yeah, government name, but it's so not metal." He picks you up off the counter and spins you round, whilst you squeal.

"Put me down Edward!"

"Whose Edward?" He grins, still holding you, lightly tickling your sides.

"Okay Eddie please!"

He places you on your feet with exaggerated care, brushing imaginary dust of your shoulders.

Robin's eyes flick between yours and Eddie, widening and gesturing her head at you. You know she's dying to say something, but you had told her a million times, Eddie was just a friend. Sure he did shit like that, but it's like you were his little sister or something. There's no way he felt the same way about you.

"Well if you two are done flirting, I've got a job to do." You open your mouth to protest but Robin smirks, grabs a few videos and runs off like a baby deer to shelve them. looking at Eddie, you see his face is flushed. Silence for a heartbeat.

"So aren't you seeing loverboy tonight?" Eddie waggles his eyebrows at you.

"Oh I've just come from EX loverboy's house. Here to pick a horror film and pretend all the victims have his face. Oh and eat ice cream until I'm sick."

"Oh shit sweetheart I didn't know, sorry."

"It's all good, just trying to get some stuff he said out of my head. He's a dick anyway."

Eddie frowns, his brow furrowing. He knows this is affecting you more than you are letting on but he doesn't question it.

"Look, I've got a deal to do, but do you want to come over? I can drop you at mine and I'll be like 20 minutes max. I'm up for horror movies, ice cream and a joint or two?"

"Sounds good Eddie. Thanks."

"No problem sweetheart."

You pick a movie each and summon Robin from her hiding space to check them out.

"Okay you kids have fun!" She beams at you both, waving over enthusiastically.

"Robin you are such a dork." You laugh and leave, turning back to make sure the door shuts and doesn't leave a draught. Robin's still staring at you two, gesturing and putting her thumbs up. You roll your eyes and make your way to Eddie's van.

*******************************

Eddie, true to his word, dropped you off at his trailer. You were standing in his room, all alone since his uncle was at work. It was odd; you'd been here before several times, but never alone. You sat on Eddie's bed, surrounded by his smell. Laying back against the pillows you grab one and drink in the scent. Okay you've definitely crossed over into freak territory. He wasn't even here and you were obsessed; surrounded and engulfed by his scent. You felt a familiar warmth between your legs, your desire growing for him with each passing second. You hadn't even realised you had unbuttoned your jeans until your fingers met your underwear.

What the hell are you doing he'll be back any second! Despite knowing this, it gave you a little thrill to think he might catch you with your hand down your pants. Maybe he'd finally give you what you've been craving. Working your hand into your underwear, you find your clit with a gasp. You already felt wetness creeping from your folds, desire being something that seemed to run hot within you, all the time. Teasing at your clit, you run your fingertips in soft circles, building up that tingling feeling in your core.

Throwing your head back you groaned softly, increasing the pressure on your sensitive bud. You imagined it was Eddie's fingers doing this, rubbing you, teasing you into an orgasm. It definitely helped. Soon you were panting, chasing your release.

Your mind races, thinking about how he picked you up earlier so effortlessly, you thought about his strong hands holding you firmly, rings pressing into your flesh. You think about what it would feel like, his hands on you whilst you grind against him and that did it. You come undone with your own hand, your release shattering through your nerves. Laying there for a moment you gather yourself, feeling a twinge of guilt. You shouldn't be thinking about your best friend like this. Maybe there was something wrong with you.

Freak. Slut.

No time to unpack all of that, hearing the crunch of gravel outside. The front door opens.

"Hey honey I'm home!" Eddie chuckles, and you hear him coming towards his room. You quickly try look less dishevelled, wiping your hand and hoping against hope that what you just did wasn't written all over your face.

Eddie struts in, chucks his metal lunchbox on the bed and throws himself after it. You can't help but laugh at his exaggerated movements.

He lays there on his side, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Ya miss me?" He grins.

"Always." You smile at him, trying your hardest not to appear flustered.

"So, I'll roll, you pick what to watch, and we'll make a nest."

You laugh at that. "A nest? What am I an egg?"

"Just do what you're told baby girl." Jesus that's a new one. That nickname went straight to your cunt. He sits up, cross legged. "Oh and hand me those papers on the bed side table."

You bend across and grasp the papers, passing them to Eddie. For a fraction of a second he looks down and looks back up at you, face flushed pink.

"By all means get comfortable." He coughs and looks away.

You look down and realise you left your jeans unbuttoned. A small triangle of red is exposed from the front of your black jeans. Trust me to pick bright red underwear today. Flushing magenta, you try and cover your tracks.

"Shit, sorry Eddie the jeans were digging in you know."

"No worries princess, you want a pair of sweat pants? You need to be cosy in our nest" he grins at you.

"Sure, thanks Eds."

He grabs you a clean grey pair from a drawer and you go to the bathroom to change, cursing yourself for being so stupid. When you return, sweats hanging low of your hips, he had rolled and was waiting for you with a lighter in hand.

"Shit Eddie you could have started without me."

"Nuh-uh. This is all for your benefit, and I'm a gentleman. The lady gets first toke." He reaches over once you've sat down and puts the joint in your mouth and lights it. You take a drag, holding it in for a couple of seconds, then release it. You take another, deeper toke.

"Wow this is decent." You smirk at him.

"All my stuff is decent babe."

"Oh so we aren't talking about the other week with that shit that was all twiggy?"

"No idea what you're talking about." He looks pointedly in the opposite direction. You snort at his actions and pick the first film, loading the VCR.

You both lay back, arms touching, watching the film. The joint goes back and forth, and you begin to giggle at the movie, feeling your high settle in. Laughing with each other at the ridiculous plot, you feel so much better about everything that had happened that evening. You were with Eddie. He always made you feel at ease.

Once the movie had finished Eddie started rolling another, and you ejected the film to put the next one in.

"So, you ready to tell me what happened?" Eddie asks, licking the spliff into place.

Your eyes go wide thinking about what you did in his bed. Shit, how did he know?

"What- what do you mean?"

"I mean why did lover boy break it with you? You never said."

Relief started to spread through you, then you remembered the reasons. Freak. Slut. No way you could tell Eddie that. It was too embarrassing.

"Just standard guy commitment shit. Nothing new." You try and brush it off. It might have worked with someone else, but Eddie could always tell when you are lying.

"Nope, nope. You weren't even serious, you said. So go on, tell me?" His soft brown eyes bored into you.

You started to feel hot and bothered at this amount of attention.

"He said some stuff, it wasn't nice, I don't want to go through it again."

"Did you tell Robin?"

Ooft. How did he always know?

"Okay he said some... stuff that got to me. Jesus Eddie its not important!"

Eddie strokes your arm and looks you in the eye, "if it wasn't important it wouldn't have gotten to you. I just, I want to help."

You look into his eyes and see pure love there, and it does help. You take a deep breath, and, looking anywhere other than Eddie's eyes, you explain the real reason for the break up. Eddie sits silently, listening to you recount the events. When you are done, he looks at you and begins to smirk.

"Eddie it's not funny." You scowl at him. That throws Eddie over the edge. He laughs out loud, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Feeling embarrassed, you move to get up. Eddie's hands grab your waist, holding you still.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I'm not laughing at you I swear." He's grinning, face slightly red from his outburst.

You stare at him. "Then what the hell are you laughing at?"

He chuckles a bit, then strokes your arm, "it's just, it's like he's gotten rid of any man's wet dream, seriously. What man doesn't want a hot girlfriend who wants to do him all the time? He's clearly fucking crazy."

"You- you think I'm hot?" You stutter at him.

"Of course, look at you, you're fucking incredible. Baby girl, any man would be lucky to have you."

Part of you thinks this is just Eddie being a good friend, but the way he looks at you and the lingering hand on your hip; that tells a different story. You decide to push it a little further.

"Any man, right?' You look into his eyes.

"That's what I said sweetheart."

"So, that includes long haired, metal loving, tattooed men right?" You look up at him through your lashes.

"I mean yeah if that's your type..." you see the penny drop behind his eyes. "Oooh, Er yes, those too. Maybe lead guitarist men. Men who like to play D&D?" His voice getting higher. He tilts his head to one side, looking at you with hopeful doe eyes.

"You think there's guys like that in Hawkins?" Batting your eyelashes at him, you move closer.

"Well, I can certainly think of one or two," he says, moving one hand to the nape of your neck, stroking your skin.

"Well, give me their numbers and I'll mmmph!" Your reply is muffled as he presses his lips onto yours.

His touch is electric, the feel of his lips on yours heated. It's more than you could have ever dreamt, the passion of the kiss is something you've never experienced before.

You press your tongue into his mouth and deepen the kiss. Eddie's hand holds you by the hip, fingers pressing into your sides, rings warming against your hot skin. You need to feel him closer so you move to straddle him, but in your eagerness you manage to push him onto his back. Leaning into him, legs either side of his hips, never breaking the kiss. You caress his chest with one hand, the other moving to grab him by the waist, as if he could get any closer without being inside you.

Both of your breathing becomes laboured, desperate. You break the kiss, panting at each other. Eddie's face is a picture, he looks like he's in heaven. A stupid grin is plastered across his features.

"So I've wanted to do that since forever." He beams at you, hand moving to cup your jaw.

"Why didn't you?" You frown at him.

"I dunno, I just thought you weren't interested in me like that."

You look down at him, gesturing to how you were straddling him. "Well, I mean, you're okay I suppose..." you tease him.

Eddie thrusts up with his hips, rubbing against your clothed pussy. You feel he is hard, almost busting through his jeans, and you whimper.

"Seems I'm a bit more than okay pretty girl." Eddie smirks at you.

"Shut up Eddie." The teasing that was a daily occurrence between the two of you puts you at ease. You hold him by the shoulders, and grind your core over his hardened cock, back and forth. Eddie groans low in his throat, his eyes rolling back.

"Jesus Christ, shutting up." You laugh at him, and reach to pull your top over your head, exposing your red cotton bra. It's just plain, soft cups with the tiniest bow on the front. Eddie gazes at your chest as if it were clad in the finest lingerie. You continue to rock against him, feeling your own pleasure mount up.

"You're gonna be the death of me sweetheart" he says but there's no malice in it, just pure admiration. You smirk at him and start planting kisses on his chest, fingers feathering their way to his belt. You undo it and his jeans, yanking them down to his knees, and continue leaving hot, open mouthed kisses to his stomach. Your fingers dip into the waistband of his boxers and you look up at him for confirmation. Eddie stares at you open mouthed for a second, then nods frantically. You smile back at him and bite your lip, pulling his underwear down slowly.

His member springs out to greet you, bigger than average but what really surprised you was the girth of it. You couldn't help but feel your pussy clenching around nothing in anticipation. Licking a pointed stripe from the base to the tip, you massage his balls with your hand. Eddie's head rolled back, his eyes scrunched shut. Lowering your mouth onto the tip, you swirl your tongue around it, licking up his pre cum. Eddie's groan was borderline pornographic. You look up at him and slowly take him into your mouth, using your hands for what didn't fit. Bobbing up and down on his length, you use your tongue to massage him. You'd wanted to feel his dick on your tongue for so long, this almost didn't feel real. There was something about being in control of Eddie's pleasure that made you feel extremely powerful. You could feel his cock twitching already, Eddie was practically whimpering. You could tell he was close.

"Baby girl, shit, I can't take much more, I'm gonna-"

You pull away with a wet pop, Eddie whimpering at the loss of your mouth.

"Baby girl please please." Eddie looks a mess, his face is red, his breathing coming out in heavy pants, trying to grab at your arm, side, anything he could reach.

"Patience baby", your voice dripping honey.

You fling your sweats off and move up him, straddling him in your underwear. Not letting him enter you. Not yet. You were enjoying dominating him.

You start to grind down on his length again, making Eddie whine.

"Please-" Eddie looks at you, breathless and pouting.

"No." You smirk at him. Eddie gasps and looks at you in surprise. You continue to rub your wet heat against him, "I was thinking about this earlier, wanted to find out what it felt like," grinning, grinding your cunt against his rock hard dick, feeling your slick drench your underwear and him.

Eddie's falling apart in front of your eyes. You unclasp your bra, letting it fall. Eddie's eyes widen and he whimpers, thrusting against you. You let out a moan.

"Touch me Eddie." He wastes no time in grabbing at your chest, smoothing rough fingertips over your hardened nipples. You feel a familiar sensation, a burning in your stomach and chest, desire building and building, setting your insides ablaze.

You increase your pace, rubbing back and forth, your wetness soaking Eddie, making him a slippery mess. You feel him twitch under you, fingers pinching your nipples almost painfully and it sends you over the edge. You cry out his name, your hands in your hair, still riding him, extending the outrageous feeling.

Eddie's hands suddenly grasp your hips, hard. You open your eyes and look down just as his scrunch shut. He comes then, violently with an exaggerated moan. His own release pebbles his stomach, your stomach, even a smattering reaches his chest. You look down at him as you come down from your respective highs, and you both start laughing.

"Well, I've never come like that before." Eddie's stroking your sides, gazing at you in disbelief.

You laugh, and get up off him, readjusting your underwear. You go to the bathroom to clean yourself off, and return with a dampened wash cloth. You kneel beside him, wash cloth hovering over him.

"You gonna help me or just stare baby girl" he smirked, poking you in the ribs, his other hand gesturing to the mess on his stomach.

"Hey, just admiring my masterpiece. Have to take a picture next time." You watch as Eddie's mouth springs open, his face turning purple. You simply hum and wipe him down, passing him the cloth to get anything you missed.

"Holy shit, I was right. You are literally every guys wet dream. Fuck. You're a-a pervert!" He points at you dramatically.

Laughing loud at that, you flop down next to him. He turns on his side and strokes your face, moving a couple of stray hairs.

Feeling self conscious for a moment, you look at him, cheeks flushed slightly.

"You don't mind then?"

"Mind? Mind?? I think I won the lottery." He beams at you and brings you in for a kiss.

"So you wont mind what I meant, when I said I thought about that earlier?" You're testing him, seeing if this could actually work. And you want to see the look on his face.

"Oh please for all that is good tell me." He practically pants at you.

You giggle, "well when you dropped me off I had some time to fill, so I might have touched myself thinking of you."

The groan that escapes Eddie's lips travels straight to your core. He envelopes you in a fiery kiss.

"Jesus baby girl, fuck!" He rubs your back, one hand snaking into your hair, pulling it. "In my bed?" You nod. "So yeah I'm hard again."

You laugh, "looks like you weren't kidding when you thought you could keep up with me," you smile smugly at him.

He pushes you onto your back in response and starts to nip and lick at your neck, leaving opened mouthed kisses in his wake.

"Oh I can keep up with you baby girl, trust me."

Then he's mounting you, the tip of his cock begging for entry.

"Someone's eager, have you got protection?" You raise your eyebrows at him.

"Yes, God yes, please baby please." His eyes dart to his bedside table.

You push at him, smiling, teasing him, "so you're all confident until you have any pressure at all, I see. Lay back then baby."

He immediately lies on his back, quiet and unassuming, holding his cock by the base. He looks painfully hard but he's not moving a muscle, looking at you for your say so. You feel immensely powerful, gazing at him in such compliant position.

You reach to the drawer at his bedside, rummaging through.

"Oh, what do we have here?" You exclaim, pulling out a dirty magazine, folded to the centre. You cant help but notice the model's hair is just like yours.

"Hmm, she's hot I'll give you that. Kinda looks a little like me eh?" You wink at him mischievously.

He blushes crimson at you in reply.

"I, I suppose I have a type?" He shrugs, face red as a beetroot.

You can help but laugh, "I'm just flattered baby." And then you find his condoms. You pull one out and rip it from its packaging using your teeth.

"So, you gonna be a good boy?" You question, it almost being a joke but you receive a very certain "yes ma'am!" As a response.

You cant help but chuckle, "oh, so the dungeon master wants someone in control, I see how it is," and you grab the base of his painfully hard member.

"Please...' Eddie nearly drools out of the side of his mouth in response.

"Hmmm its good to hear you beg. Well I suppose I'll humour you. For now," you smirk out the corner of your mouth. You roll the condom onto his hard cock. He hisses at the friction. You line him up to your entrance, straddling him.

As you slowly lower yourself onto his hardness, he cries out at the sensation. You see his eyes screwed shut in response, his cheeks flushed pink. You already feel obsessed by the look of him as he entered you. You want to record this forever, the moment you finally got to take your crush. The moment you realised you could completely take control of him; everything you'd ever dreamed of. He's compliant, melting to your touch. You take him into your cunt until you're sitting on him fully. He's buried in you to the hilt, stretching you. Its bordering on pain given his size, but delicious in itself. It's a good pain.

You hold him by the waist, almost possessively. Searching his eyes as he meets your gaze, you see tears gathering at the edges of his eyes, flustered and fucked out already. The look on his eyes is pleading, almost praying.

"Mother of God, fuck...."

"I thought we settled on ma'am?"

"No.... definitely seeing God... baby..." it's a shadow of Eddie's usual humour.

You giggle at him, a sound seemingly innocent, considering Eddie is buried deep inside your pussy. You start to slowly move against him, bouncing up and down on his length, grinding against him every so often. Eddie's eyes roll back, he grabs you firmly by the hips, rocking you back and forth. You take a deliberate, pounding pace against him and feel your release begin to build again.

Eddie is babbling, passionately holding you as tight as he can.

"Jesus, baby girl, you feel so tight and warm, fuck."

Eddie's words of encouragement and blissed out face spur you on. You take him harder, faster, gripping onto him with your fingertips. Every thrust bringing you to ecstasy. You can feel him through every fibre of your being, deep within your core. You cry out in pleasure, the feeling of Eddie in every nerve. Moaning and writhing above him, you know you're about to cum, your walls flexing around him, squeezing his length. Eddie whimpers and you practically scream, your pleasure coming to a head, the feeling pulsating through your every limb, taking over control. Your body rocks in absolute rapture. You shake and stroke his sides as you come down.

"Fuck, Eddie, oh my God." You quiver above him, legs shaking.

"Baby, please can I get on top of you. Please." He looks up at you, wide eyes beseeching you. How could you say no to that face?

"Go on, whatever you want." You remember his reaction from earlier, " you've been such a good boy."

Eddie practically growls at that, flipping you onto your back.

He finds your entrance, slipping back into you deeply with a groan. You pull one leg over his shoulder, the other hitched around his waist and see his eyes roll back. He thrusts into you, deep and slow, planting open mouthed kisses onto your calf.

You stare at his face, one hand cupping his jaw. He's pink tinged, sweating, wild eyed.

"Hey, Eddie, baby, look at me. You're being such a good boy, taking me, using me so well baby."

"Fuck yes" Eddie breathes, his eyes now fixated with yours, grounding him. "Thank you thank you thank you." He chants as his thrusts get faster and sloppier. He grabs onto your hips, plunging as hard into you as he can, and you feel a mounting desire burning in the depths of your stomach.

"Eddie yes fucking me so well, oh God baby, I'm gonna cum so hard." Your words of encouragement send him over the edge; with a stutter and a high pitched moan he comes, shaking and gripping you tight. He continues to thrust in you though, looking at your face, brow furrowed. It must feel too much but he wants, needs you to come again. You grab him by the ass and push him into you as far as he will go, arching your back, releasing a toe curling moan as you orgasm.

You both try and slow your breathing as you move your leg from his shoulder, still quivering.

"Jesus Christ, baby girl that was... wow" Eddie chuckled in disbelief.

"Yeah? That good huh?" You smiled up at him, stroking a stray hair from his face.

"I just... if I knew you were gonna be so..."

"So what?" You frown at him.

"So... in charge! I mean, fuck that was... wow." He grinned at you, and you see your Eddie again. He rolls off you and disposes of the condom.

"What would you have done?" You smile at him, grabbing the blanket to cover yourself up.

"Well, probably just thought about it a whole lot until you made a move." You laugh at that.

"Eddie that's what happened."

"Hmmm, impeccable logic. Still, you had no right keeping this to yourself."

You laugh and throw a pillow at him. He pretends its heavy and it knocks him to the bed. He wiggles underneath it, seemingly pinned. You crawl over to him, moving the pillow, and cage him in with your arms.

"So, I'll roll, you put the movie on, and then round three yeah?" You tilt your head with the question.

"Fuck baby girl you really are gonna be the death of me. But what a way to go!"

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fan fiction #eddie fan fic #eddie munson fan fic #sub!eddie #sub!eddie munson #eddie munson #dom!reader #sub!eddie munson x reader

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golbrocklovely · 7 months

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hunger // colby brock

A/N: this may or may not be based on a daydream i've had for a while. or honestly, a fic that i would love to write a whole story to but probably never will. vampire colby will always be my favorite. hope yall enjoy and lmk what you think ! happy haunting !

prompt: you wake up in an unfamiliar place. seeking shelter inside of a castle, you suddenly realize that everyone you know is a vampire, and you are the only human around. no one is going to save you, especially not the prince. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: angst, cursing, waking up in an alternative universe, you and snc are/were friends, and now… they don't know who you are, vampire!prince!colby, blood drinking, mentions of manipulation powers (but they don't work on you), being aggressively manhandled a bunch, you are treated like shit by everyone for the most part, weird flirting???, overall some sexual undertones, passing out/almost dying, twist ending?

word count: 2970

I was running as hard and as fast as I could through the thick forest. I had no recollection of how I got here. The last thing I remember was going to bed, then suddenly I awoke surrounded by trees as far as my eyes could see. I wasn't even in the same clothes I went to sleep in. I was now in an off-white dress that stopped just above my knees, sprinting bare foot through the woods. I could hear voices around me, almost getting closer any time I would stop. It's like they were toying with me, forcing me to run any time I felt like stopping. My feet were on fire, most likely bleeding, but I couldn't stop. I knew that if I did, I would be done for.

I would have screamed out for help, but it almost felt as if doing that would draw attention to me; attention that would get me sooner killed rather than saved.

I squinted up ahead, a clearing coming into view. A huge dark grey building of some sort was getting closer. All I had to do was get to it and maybe I would be safe.

I prayed that this was a dream, and I would soon wake up, but as the cuts in my feet told me otherwise. This was no dream. This was real, and I just needed to keep going.

I finally rested against a tree for a moment right at the edge of the building's property. As I caught my breath, I realized this was no ordinary building - it was a castle. Stone walls rose high into the sky, tiny windows adorning the tops of the towers. The doors to the castle were unguarded, at least from the outside, and the big iron doors beckoned me in. Seeking shelter or help was my only option. I knew staying in the forest wasn't safe. But something in me churned at the thought of what could be beyond the castle walls.

I trudged over to the doors slowly, glancing around me. No one was in sight, and I couldn't hear anything from outside to indicate there was life inside. But there had to be.... right?

I grabbed the handle, pulling open the door with all of my might. Medal cranking noises sounded off, reverberating inside the room. I stepped in and closed the door, turning around. No one was there. Not even a whisper of a soul.

I walked up the carpet that led to a thrown, embellished in gold and black accents. The plush carpets felt amazing against my sore feet. I observed the massive room, noting the other doorways and stairs leading to who knows where else in the castle. The marble floor sparkled in the light coming in through the stained-glass windows. There were gorgeous paintings hanging along the walls, assumingly of past rulers. What was odd was how almost gruesome the paintings were - depicting beheadings and blood and gore. Not only that, but every single ruler had red eyes. Some even had blood dripping from their mouths.

One painting in particular caught my eye. It looked recent, and the man was sitting on the same thrown in this room. His was not as gruesome as the others, but something in his eyes was colder than all the rest. He didn't have to have the blood or gore to come across as scary. He just was. But his face... it looked eerily familiar to someone I knew. Someone that was my friend.

There was no way it could have been him. It had to be someone else.

"Hello, precious child." A voice rang out sinisterly, causing chills to run up my spine.

I spun around, my eyes landing on a man. He was tall with dark hair, and his clothing was formal and royal in dark blues and blacks. His eyes were almost neon red. His wicked smile gleamed in the light; fangs sharp as knives glaring back at me.

That couldn't be right...

"Boo." Another man's voice whispered behind me. I jumped, ready to scream, but a hand covered my mouth. An arm wrapped around me tightly, almost taking the air out of me as he squeezed. The person holding me laughed maniacally, finding it hilarious as I struggled against his hold. He was taller than me as well, and from the corner of my eye I could see his dark red hair hitting his shoulder as he held me.

"Now, now, Theo. You know how he will feel about us playing with our food." The man in front of me stated nonchalantly, slowly walking towards us.

"But Alek... she smells so good. It was so much fun chasing her outside," Theo snickered behind me. He pressed his nose against my neck, breathing in my scent deeply. "God, what I would do for a bite of her right now."

"I know it was, but you know what Samuel will say." Alek rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips, "And not to mention what he'll tell the prince."

"Screw them both! We found her first. We get first dibs." Theo growled bitterly, gripping me harder.

"Her fear is palpable.... that makes her blood all the more yummy." Alek's eyes danced across my body, his gaze lingering on my neck. "I not only thirst for your blood, sweetheart, but you.... have made me lascivious."

"Fuck you!" I spat, thrashing forward in Theo's arms.

Alek reeled back and slapped me, my face almost slamming into Theo's shoulder. "What a depraved mouth on such a tiny, little thing. For that alone I should drain you dr-"

"Are you two done yet? Because it is exhausting hearing you speak sometimes." Another voice cut through, sounding all too familiar.

All our heads turned towards one of the entrances. Standing there in all his glory, was Sam. My friend. But he looked... very different. He was a vampire, much like Theo and Alek. His hair was slicked back, and his clothing was similar to theirs, except in red and black with silver accents. His eyes were on me, but there was no sign he knew who I was.

My eyes widened at the sight of him, my breath hitched in my throat. "S-Sam?"

He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow at my voice. "How informal of you." He glanced at Theo and Alek, "Release her."

Theo's arms dropped me, my body almost crashing to the floor. Sam suddenly appeared in front of me, his hands grabbing at my wrists. He kept me close as he looked into my eyes. He searched my face for something, but I couldn't tell what it was.

"What is your name?" He asked calmly.

I thought for a moment of saying it but held my tongue. I grimaced at him, remaining silent.

"Oh, so now the wench has no words?" Alek snapped, grunting behind me.

"If I were you, I would be more like her." Sam narrowed his eyes at them both, "You as well, Theo."

"What did we do?" Theo barked, whining.

He blinked, annoyed. "You had plans to hide her away and feast upon her. You know the rules. The prince gets first taste."

"But we hunted her down. We found her in the forbidden forest." Alek argued, his voice hanging like venom in the air.

"And you allowed her into the castle when you should have been standing guard. You let a human in just to be food. We do not run our kingdom like that anymore." He gazed over at Theo, his voice just as pointed, "And your little comment, Theo… you are lucky King Henrik is not around. That sass alone would have gotten you beheaded instantly."

"May he rest in peace." The men behind me mumbled.

Sam finally turned back to me, a polite smile that did not reach his eyes resting on his face. "Where are my manners? My apologies. We were having a conversation. Now again, what is your name?"

I turned my head away, not knowing what else to do.

Sam hummed, his one hand leaving my arm. He brushed a finger against my turned cheek, forcibly turning my head back to him. "I'm doing everything in my power to remain kind to you. Don't push your luck."

"Fuck. You." I whispered harshly, a quiet tear streaming down my face. I didn't even realize I was close to crying, or that tears had welled up at all.

"You have guts, sweetheart. Too bad those with guts are killed first." Sam spoke softly, but with a vicious tongue. "The prince will be here shortly. Hold her."

Theo and Alek each took an arm of mine, holding me tightly. I tried to shake them off, to no avail. In a loud booming noise, the doors behind the thrown opened widely. A tall man walked through; his head held high. His eyes narrowed at the sight of all of us. Royal garb adorned his body, all black with gold detailing. As my eyes fell upon his face, my mouth gaped at him. It was Colby.

"What the fuck?" I uttered, stunned.

"Is that the only word you know how to say?" Colby questioned coolly. He stopped in front of me, taking all of me in for a moment. "Ever since you stepped foot into my castle, all I've heard from that pretty mouth of yours is 'fuck'."

"Bow before the prince, harlot." Theo hissed.

They dropped me onto my knees, forcing me down. My knees banged against the marble floor, a wince falling from my lips.

Alek snickered, getting low and near my ear. "Right where all human women belong."

Alek suddenly began to choke, his hold and Theo's letting me go. I picked my head up to see Colby choking him, his hand tightening to an almost death grip around Alek's throat. He looked bored, glancing around the room unamused. "I am exhausted by the two of you and your crude comments. Not only did you hunt this poor girl for sport, but now you have left me with no other choice but to use my powers on her or take her life. Cleaning up your fuck ups is the last thing I want to be doing."

"But sir, she just-!" Alek gurgled out.

"Speak another word and I will snap your neck like a toothpick, so help me God. Do you understand me?" Colby's cold voice made the hairs on my body stand on end.

"Yes, Prince Cole." Both Alek and Theo nodded.

Colby released Alek, his attention turning back to me as if he hadn't just choked out a man. "Now.... let me get a good look at you."

He bent down, his hand cupping my face gently. His gentle touch surprised me, my eyes fluttering. He studied me, his striking blue eyes taking me in.

"How come your eyes are blue?" I inquired lowly.

I heard Sam let out a soft laugh, Theo and Alek remaining silent.

An almost smile came to his lips. "My eyes are only red when I'm hungry. But I also have a lot of strength so I'm able to hide when I am hungry."

"Are you... hungry?" I gulped.

"I knew the moment you stepped into my castle because of the cuts on your feet. So yes, I am very hungry, darling." He gazed directly into my eyes, a sort of playful tone I was used to coming through. "Why, are you offering?"

My cheeks heated up from his intense stare. Dear heaven above, this was not the time to be blushing!

"You always knew how to make the ladies swoon, Prince Cole," Sam teased jokingly. "Maybe you can get her to say her name."

He turned his gaze back to me. "You haven't said your name yet? Why is that?"

"Is it really all that important if you plan to kill me?" I remarked rudely.

"I don't have to kill you. That's a last resort option," he replied sincerely. "So, why don't you tell me your name?"

"After everything I just went through, I'd rather not." I deadpanned.

Colby's gaze caught mine, his eyes flashing red. "Tell me your name, now."

I felt an electric surge course through my body when our eyes met, something deeper than just surface level. I could almost feel him in my body, in my soul, for a moment. But once the current dissipated, I was left still not wanting to say my name.

"No." I dissented.

All the men around me stepped back, mumbling incoherently. For the first time since he came into the room, Colby looked startled. Almost scared.

"How is that possible?" Sam questioned, amazed.

Theo whispered. "Witchcraft."

"There's no way your powers didn't affect her!" Alek exclaimed.

"Quiet," Colby hushed everyone, scooping me up firmly. He pushed me onto his throne, barricading me in with his arms. His eyes narrowed as he glared down at me. "How were you able to do that?"

"Do what?" I gasped.

"Block my powers. I come from the longest living vampire lineage in history, spanning thousands of years, and somehow.... my powers have no effect on you." He scanned me once again, his eyes lingering longer on my exposed skin. "You are nothing more than a human."

"Lucky break, I guess." I sneered.

Colby scowled; his voice low. "Don't play cute with me, darling. You will not survive if anymore quips fall from your mouth. I am a patient man, but an indignant ruler."

"I don't know! I don't even know how the fuck I got here! I woke up in the forest and ran from those two lunatics and now I'm here getting berated by a bunch of vampires! You tell me how this make sense." I ranted, getting close to his face.

Sam chimed in. "Cole, she might be telling the truth."

"There's no way. Clearly she is a witch of some type. Or has her own abilities that are somehow stronger than mine. She might be a spy from our opposition." Colby argued, gesturing towards me.

"So, our only option... is the last resort." Sam breathed, glancing at me hesitantly.

I was going to die. There was no way around it.

Theo whined, "If you're going to kill her, can we please have a bite of her, sir? We are the ones that caught this intruder and-"

"You were the ones that let her in!" Colby thundered, his eyes red.

I jumped out of the throne, running towards the open doors behind me. I barely got close, being taken suddenly into Colby's strong arms.

I screamed, pleading with him. "No! Please let me go! I'm not a spy! I- Please!"

"There's no use fighting me, sweetheart. This is the only option left." He spoke calmly.

I shook in his arms, doing my best to fight against his hold. "Please don't do this to me! No, Col-"

"I will make it painless and quick if you want." He assured.

I raged, thrashing back and forth in his arms. "Fuck you! Let me go!"

He pulled my hair so my neck was on full display for him to bite into. "What a pity. I'm sorry, sweet girl. There is no other way."

Colby's teeth sunk deeply into my neck, my body freezing against his. The shock of the bite sent my body into overdrive, tears flowing down my cheeks as I begged for my life.

Sam, Theo, and Alek watched as Colby drank from me slowly. Theo and Alek glared but gazed at my neck hungrily. Sam observed, a sad expression coming across his red eyes.

Colby pulled away from my neck with a sharp inhale, an almost moan. "Oh Lord, her blood is divine. Unlike anything I've had before."

He plunged his teeth back into my neck, my eyes drooping from the blood loss. He sped up his motions, draining me faster. I kept trying to fight, but my limbs grew stiff and tired. My tears had slowed down and my voice wasn't as loud as it once was. I was inching closer to death. Black dots filled my vision.

"Please, Colby. Stop." I whispered, my breaths extremely shallow and labored.

He froze at the sound of his name. He removed his mouth from my neck, spinning me around in his arms. The world doubled, tripled, in my vision. My head whirled as I felt like I was falling.

He brought me down to the floor softly, cupping my face just like he had before. "What did you call me? Say it again, darling. Say it!"

"C-Colby. Pleaseeee." I slurred, my eyes unable to stay open.

The last thing I saw were his blue eyes, deeply worried about me.

~~~

"Take her to my bedroom, call Magnus. Tell him to heal her, quickly. Now! And if you harm a hair on her head, I'll stake you where you stand." Cole ordered, glaring daggers into Theo's eyes.

Theo took Y/N into his arms, running her up to Prince Cole's room hastily. Alek followed suit, disappearing with him.

Samuel grabbed onto Cole's shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "She called you... Colby. But the only person that ever called you that was-"

"My mother. And she passed when I was a child. There's no way anyone knew of that name, but her." Cole's breathing picked up, his mind racing a million miles a second.

"Do you think this is the sign she meant to send you? She told you all those years ago she would send someone just for you." Samuel responded, looking into Cole's eyes.

For the first time in hundreds of years, Cole was unsure. And he would never admit it to anyone, but he was petrified too. "I-I don't know. But I have to find out."

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x reader #colby brock vampire #colby brock oneshot #colby brock one shot #sam and colby #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween #colby brock angst

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jennaispunk · 3 months

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Just Another Saturday Night....

Note: Happy Valentine's Day Ali @pedgito. I'm your Space Sisters secret Valentine!!! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Javi invites himself to help you babysit for Steve and Connie on Valentine's Day. What happens between you is completely unexpected.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, sexual tension, kissing, touching, Valentine's Day, friends to lovers, language (Javi, who else?), brief smoking, brief alcohol consumption, mutual pining, no significant age gap, brief use of Spanish, Javi and reader work in the same building but aren't co-workers. Reader understands Spanish, Reader is shorter than Javi and has hair long enough to tuck behind her ear, no other physical description of reader is given. The photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Other notes: This is my first published fic so please be nice! I am beyond nervous about putting this out there.

Special Thanks to @sawymredfox for the amazing moodboard, @beefrobeefcal for your advice, and @fallingforthearch for beta reading and squealing about this with me.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

It seemed everyone in this damn building was talking about their plans for Valentines Day. Everyone except for you. Today was just a normal Thursday. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind as you made your way through the bustle of the DEA headquarters. There was no use in giving it any more thought. Love was overrated anyway, right? You dropped off some paperwork to the director’s secretary and headed back to your own desk in the Embassy. The clacking keys of typewriters and sharp ringing of telephones hummed around you as you crossed the room, and you narrowly avoided a collision with an agent with his head stuck in file. The sound of your name being called across the bullpen made you stop in your tracks.

You scanned the room to see Steve Murphy, smiling at you from his office door. You smiled warmly in return and made your way over to him. Steve and his wife Connie had welcomed you with open arms when you first arrived in Colombia. They had taken you under their wing and the three of you had become close over the last 6 months, frequently sharing dinners at their apartment with their adopted daughter, Olivia, and occasionally Steve’s partner, Javier Peña.

Javi….he was always an enigma to you. He was handsome and a shameless flirt. He was quick with a line and a smile, and he used it to his advantage. There wasn’t a woman that worked in this building that hadn’t been subjected to his charms, and you were no exception. Of course, you had a thing for him. How could you not, with his aquiline nose and pouty lips that just begged to be kissed. You’d spent enough time with him to know him pretty well, but he held you at arm’s length, never letting you get too close. He seemed content to keep it that way and you let him. It’s not like you actually had a chance with him anyway.

“Hey Steve, what’s up?” You studied him as he grinned at you in that goofy way he always did. That smile reminded you of your brother and it made you miss him. Maybe you should call him and check in.

“I need a huge favor.” he asked with a soft smile.

You groaned softly. You hoped Connie wasn’t trying to set you up on another blind date. The last one was an absolute disaster.

“I don’t like the sound of this.” Your eyes narrowed. “What did you do this time?”

He chuckled and crossed his arms across his chest. “I didn’t do anything. I need a babysitter on Saturday. I was able to score reservations at that new restaurant downtown for Valentine’s Day. Connie’s been dying to try it since they opened, and I thought that it would be a nice surprise for her.”

You chuckled softly. “And you thought that your little spinster friend would be free on the most romantic night of the year?”

“You just haven’t mentioned any one special lately, so I thought you’d be free.” He cocked his head. “Why are you calling yourself a spinster, anyway? You’re gorgeous.”

The familiar combination of cigarette smoke and aftershave hit your nostrils before you saw him, and your breath hitched. Steve’s eyes darted over your shoulder, and you followed his gaze. “Ain’t that right, Javi?” The turquoise button-down shirt and tight dark wash jeans accentuated his biceps and his cinched waist. Javi appraised you, arching his brow and quickly raking up and down your body. “Sure, you’re at least a 7, princess.” He teased in the way only he could, flashing you that grin that made your knees weak. Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

Princess. That word single handedly made your blood boil and your stomach flip at the same time.

“Thanks, Javi.” you shot back, rolling your eyes. He moved closer to Steve’s office door, crowding you with his broad frame. “What are you two talking about anyway?”

“I’m trying to get our friend here to babysit for me and Connie on Saturday.” Steve grinned, his puppy dog eyes staring you down.

“I’ll babysit for you.” You said. “I’d love to spend some time with Olivia.”

Javi wasted no time and butted in. This was his chance to get you alone and he was going to take it.

Javi smiled, his eyes dancing. “Why don’t I join you? I don’t have any plans for V-day either. What’d ya say, princess? Want some company for babysitting duty?”

Your words failed you and you just looked at him, your eyes wide. His chocolate chip eyes stared down at you, waiting for you to speak.

“Ummm….” You stammered, your nails digging into your palms. “Sure. Why not?”

He gave you a crooked grin and nothing else.

“What time do you need me?” Your head swiveled back to Steve.

“Six o’clock?”

“I’ll be there.” You flashed a quick smile and turned on your heels.

“See ya then, princess.” Javi shouted to your retreating form.

You knocked on the apartment door at 5:50 pm, tapping your foot rhythmically as you wait. Olivia’s laughter seeped through the door and the tension drained from your shoulders. Connie’s smiling face greeted you a moment later. “Thank you so much for watching Liv for us.”

“It’s no problem at all. You know I love spending time with her.” You smiled warmly at her and walked over to the couch, making yourself comfortable. “You look amazing, by the way. You’re going to have to let me borrow that dress sometime.”

Steve came around the corner bouncing Olivia in his arms while she laughed. The sight made your chest tighten. “Look who’s here, Liv.” The little girl gave you the biggest smile and you stood to take her from her father’s arms.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun tonight, huh?”

Olivia giggled and grabbed for your necklace.

You and Connie chatted idly, while Steve headed into the kitchen. A knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

“Hey, Javi!” Steve ushered him into the living room.

Javi’s eyes settled on you, his hands clenching into fists then relaxing. His chin jutted forward almost imperceptibly. Even in a simple T-shirt and jeans, you still managed to make him want you even though he knew he shouldn’t.

Why did he have to wear that plaid shirt? You thought to yourself as he sat down in the armchair adjacent to the couch. The red and white plaid shirt stretched across the broad expanse of his shoulders. Your heart began to beat a little bit faster, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Babe…. we’d better head out or we’re going to be late.” Connie stood and you watched as Steve helped Connie with her coat. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck. You sighed quietly and looked away.

“Have a great time.” You take Olivia’s hand to wave at her parents. “Bye Mommy and Daddy.”

Connie leaned down and kissed Olivia’s cheek. “Be good for your Auntie and Uncle.” She looked at you. “Call us if you need anything.”

“There’s beer in the fridge.” Steve said, his eyes darting between you and Javi. “You two behave yourselves. That’s a brand-new couch you’re sitting on.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

The click of the door latching echoed in your ears, making you painfully aware of the fact you and Javi were alone. The television droned in the background as the two of you looked at each other.

“I…” you both start. The sound of your combined nervous laughter made Olivia join in with her own forced laugh, breaking some of the awkward tension that had been building between you. Your eyes snap back to Javi as he clears his throat.

“You first.” His lips lift into a crooked grin.

“I was just going to say that I’m surprised that you were serious about babysitting with me tonight. I thought you’d have a hot date tonight.” He hadn’t mentioned that he had been seeing anyone lately, but maybe he was just keeping it quiet for now.

His throaty chuckle filled your ears. “Why would I want to shell out big bucks on Valentine’s Day when I get to have two pretty girls all to myself tonight?” He teased. His trademark smirk flashed across his face, but his eyes betrayed him with a softness that made the blood rush directly to your cheeks. His eyes flitted away from yours.

You opened your mouth to ask him what he was about to say but Olivia had other plans. She grabbed at your shirt and let out a whine. You realized she was probably hungry. Connie had told you she’d prepared Liv’s dinner and put it in the fridge. “You hungry, bug?” Her babbles confirmed your suspicions, and you sat her on the floor in front of her toys while you warmed up her dinner.

Although the night had started awkwardly, you and Javi settled into comfortable conversation. The pizza he’d ordered had just been delivered and you put Olivia in her highchair with her own dinner in front of her.

“The pizza here is good.” You told him as he took a bite of his slice, “but it’s got nothing on the pizza back home.”

His brow arched. “Oh yeah?”

You never talked about your home much. The subject never really came up in conversation between the two of you.

“Yeah.” You said with a smirk. “There’s this small pizza joint there…. It’s the best pizza in the world. I would fight anyone on that.”

The sound of his chuckle reverberated through your entire body and his eyes settled on you. “That’s pretty big talk, maybe I’ll have to try it sometime.” He finished his slice and wiped his hands on a napkin. “Anything else special about your hometown?”

You told him more about your hometown, and he told you about Laredo as you finished eating. Olivia, never one to sit still for long, voiced her impatience and you lifted her from her highchair.

“I’ll clean up.” he volunteered, causing you to raise your eyebrows.

“Don’t look so surprised.” he smirked.

You laughed and adjusted Olivia on your hip. “If you insist. Liv and I will be playing in the living room.”

You spread some toys out on the living room floor and sat Olivia down. You stretched out on the floor, stacking some blocks in a pyramid. Olivia babbled and knocked them down, causing you to laugh softly. The sound of his footsteps made you both look up at him. Olivia grabbed a block and held it out to him. “You want Uncle Javi to play? Say ‘Come play with me, Uncle Javi’” Your eyes drifted up to meet his, your eyes twinkling at the double meaning behind those words.

Javi’s hands immediately went to his hips, his left knee jutting out slightly. His eyes darkened as his tongue pressed against his cheek. His eyes darted to the floor then back at you. You smirked as he turned away, your confidence soaring at the fact that you’d managed to rattle him, even if it was only a little. “Maybe Uncle Javi needs a minute.”

Javi stood with his back to you, willing himself to calm down; He wasn’t a man to get flustered easily. The idea of playing with you made him hard. He thought about football…..the amount of paperwork on his desk….anything to stop thinking about you.

A few moments later, he spun back around with the cool, confident mask firmly back in place. He didn’t acknowledge what had just passed between you and you let it slide, not wanting to push your luck. He sat down on the floor with you and picked up a block, smiling at Olivia.

The three of you played on the floor, you and Javi taking turns with the blocks and watching Olivia squeal with delight as she knocked them down. You wondered if you would ever have this……the man and the baby. Maybe it wasn’t in the cards for you. Maybe you were always meant to be on the outside looking in.

Olivia’s yawn snapped you from your thoughts. You smiled as Olivia pouted and rubbed her eyes. “Looks like someone’s getting sleepy.” You sat up and gathered the little girl into your arms. “Let’s get you to bed, little one.” A warm feeling flowed through you as Olivia nestled her head into your shoulder. You cuddled her closer, relishing the feeling of someone needing you.

As you walked the hall to her room, she began to cry. Soft sobs filled your ears, and it broke your heart. “Hey, it’s okay babygirl.” You tried your best to soothe her as you bounced her lightly in your arms. Her sobs only grew louder as you paced her room, murmuring soft words into her ear. It seemed the more you tried, the louder she got. You tried everything you could think of, but nothing seemed to help. The sound of her cries made your stomach drop. You tried to think about what Connie would do if she were here as Olivia’s wails grew even louder. “I know I’m not your mama, but I’m trying kiddo.” Panic gripped you as you struggled to calm her. It shouldn’t be this hard to calm a crying baby, right? You couldn’t just let her continue to cry like this, you had to do something, but you were at a loss. Tears stung your eyes as you desperately racked your brain for the magical solution to your problem.

Javi silently watched you as struggled in vain to soothe Olivia. The nightlight in the corner cast a soft glow over you, highlighting your features in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. You looked beautiful holding a child in your arms, even if that child was currently wailing in your ear. It reminded him of a life he could have had if he had done things differently. A life that he still wanted but was afraid to reach for. He lived in a dangerous world, and he couldn’t ask someone, ask you, to sign up for that; but fuck if he didn’t want to.

“Do you think I could try?” Javi’s voice carried over the sound of Olivia’s cries. A wave of relief washed over you as you saw his unmistakeable frame leaning against the doorway.

“Please….” You said as you handed Olivia to him. “I’m out of ideas.”

“What seems to be the problem here, bebecita?” he cooed. “Did your auntie pinch you?” He chuckled softly at his own joke. Olivia wailed even louder, clearly not impressed by his attempt at humor.

You leaned against the wall as he paced the small room, bouncing the Olivia in his arms. He spoke to her softly, murmuring sweet words in Spanish. Olivia seemed to respond to him, her wails lessening in intensity. The tension you were holding in your shoulders began to slowly melt away and you closed your eyes.

“Duermete mi nino (sleep my child)…..duermete mi amor (sleep my love)…..” Javi crooned quietly.

Your eyes immediately snapped open. He was singing to her. Your chest tightened as the words of the lullaby floated to your ears. Holding a baby looks so good on him. The tenderness in his voice was unexpected and you ached to know that side of him. The image of Javi holding a child the two of you created danced in your head as he continued to sing slightly offkey. You tried to shake the image from your head, but it was no use, it was seared into your brain.

“Duermete pedazo de mi corazon (sleep little piece of my heart)….” Olivia was fast asleep on his shoulder by the time he finished the song. He gently laid her in her crib, covering her with a blanket. He looked to you, pressing a thick finger to his lips and motioned toward the door. The two of you quietly crept out of the room, closing the door behind you.

You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as the two of you plopped down onto the couch.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asked. His eyes held a look you’d never seen from him before.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the heat rising to your cheeks. “What are you talking about?”

He smirked at you, making your face heat up even more. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, princess. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You looked away for just a moment before meeting his gaze again. “You were so good with her. Where did you learn to do that?” His smile made you want to lean in and kiss him, but you held back.

“I grew up in a large family, lots of cousins. There were always babies around.” His eyes fell to the floor. “My mom used to sing that song to me and my little sister when we were little.” The raucous melody of the cartoons you had on for Olivia cut sharply through the sudden shift in your conversation.

“It was a beautiful song.” You offer, not knowing exactly what to say. That was the most personal thing he’d ever shared with you. The silence lingered as you struggled to come up with the perfect thing to say to cut the tension in the room. “Even if it was offkey.”

His eyes jerked up to meet yours, his signature smirk plastered to his face. “You think you could do better?” he teased. Laughter drowned out the din of the television. “Probably not.” You admitted.

You let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your heart raced a little bit faster at the realization of how close you came to confessing your feelings. Did you see something in his eyes before he looked away? You couldn’t be sure, and you certainly weren’t going to ask. You settled back into your seat on the couch and searched for the remote. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough cartoons for a while.”

Javi’s large hand engulfed the remote as he held it up. “Found it.” You immediately reached for it, but he held it out of your grasp. “Finder’s keepers, princess.” he teased. “I’m choosing what we watch.”

Your bottom lip jutted out and you narrowed your eyes. For a split second, you contemplated trying to fight him for it, but your head won out in the end. Sinking back into the couch, you admitted defeat. “Fine” you pouted, “just don’t pick anything stupid, okay?”

He laughed, the sound filling your stomach with butterflies. The smirk plastered to his face as he started flipping channels.

“I’m grabbing a beer.” You stood from the couch, stretching your arms above your head. “You want one?”

You notice his eyes on you and quickly lowered your arms, suddenly aware that your shirt was riding up, giving him the perfect view of your stomach.

He noticed that you noticed, and he cleared his throat, dragging his eyes away from your body. “I’d love one, thanks.”

Javi let out a deep breath. He’d come so close to telling you how much he wanted you. He wanted to take you in his arms and show you just how deeply he felt for you. That was his plan when he showed up tonight, but now that he was so close to you; he was chickening out. He’d only hurt you in the end, he’d find a way to mess it up.

You returned with two cold beers, and you offer him a bottle. Your fingers brush against his, sending sparks through your body. Settling back into the couch, you tucked your legs under you and took a long drag from your bottle. The cool liquid slides down your throat easily as you try to focus your attention on the television. He finally settled on something and leaned back into the couch. His legs deliciously spread wide, dangerously close to yours despite the distance between you. The heat was radiating from his body, and you struggled to maintain your focus on the movie he chose.

The two of you watched in silence, drinking your beer. It’s comfortable in a strange way and you find yourself wanting more of this. Just being in each other’s presence, not needing words. You could almost imagine this being a normal evening at home, curled up next to him on the couch with your head on his shoulder.

His laugh snaps you from your thoughts. Your attention is drawn back to the movie and it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen.

“You actually like this movie?” You grimace at the absurd scene on the screen.

“How can you not like this movie? It’s a goddamn classic!” He took a long drag from his beer and peered at you over the bottle.

Your brow furrowed. “That’s debatable, but whatever you say, Javi.”

“Just give it a chance, princess. It gets better, I promise.”

A playful scoff erupts from your lips. “It better or I’m never letting you pick the movie again.” The heat rises to your cheeks again. This isn’t a date and your eyes dart toward him to see his reaction. His eyes were focused on the screen, but his moustache twitched slightly. You bit your lip and prayed he wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t but you could’ve sworn he moved a little closer to you.

The credits had barely started to roll when you snatched the remote of his thigh. “My turn!” Your lips curve into a playful smirk as you point the remote at the television. He reached for the remote and you swat his hand away.

“Oh….so that’s how it’s going to be.” He smirked back at you.

You weren’t going to back down, even though you knew he could easily wrestle it away from you if he wanted. “Yep.” You responded; the cockiness dripped from the word.

His jaw twitched and his eyebrows raised. Without warning, he leaned forward and grabbed for the remote. You stopped him with a hand to his chest and tsked. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share?” she teased. His eyes narrowed as you laughed.

“You’re asking for it, princess…..I fight dirty.” A devilish smirk formed on his lips.

“Ooooh, I’m so scared.” You rolled your eyes knowing that the size difference between you meant you didn’t stand a chance but part of you wanted to see what he would do.

Without warning, he pounced. He reached out for the remote again and somehow you kept it just out of his reach. The sound of your laughter filled the room. His tongue darted out to wet his full lips and then he descended on you.

He grabbed you by the waist and tickled you. Your shriek pierced the silence, and you covered your mouth to keep from walking up Olivia. He was relentless as he leaned into you, pinning your back against the armrest, tickling you mercilessly. You pulled your hand away from your mouth, laughing and struggling to breathe.

“Javi, please….” you laugh as you squirmed in his grasp.

“Oh, now you want mercy?” he teased, tickling you even harder with a smirk on his face.

“Okay, okay. You win. I give up……I give up!” Your breath is ragged, and tears leak from your eyes from laughing so hard.

You suck in a deep breath as he finally stops tickling you, but he doesn’t move away. He had you caged in with his muscular arms. He just stared at you, and you found it impossible to hold his intense gaze. You can feel the heat radiating from his body. His lips, so soft and full, were close enough to yours to feel his breath against your cheeks. His hand cupped your cheek and suddenly his lips were on yours. You froze, unable to process what was happening and he pulled back. His brow furrowed and his brown eyes searched your wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” You weakly croaked out.

Javi chuckled softly and smirked. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Your face burns with heat. What an idiotic thing to say. Of course you know what he’s doing. What you want to know is why, but your pride keeps you from asking. You already knew the answer.

“Haven’t you noticed the way I flirt with you is different from the way I flirt with the other women at the office?” His voice is low and husky and for once he’s the one having a hard time keeping your gaze.

You shook your head slowly and your brows furrowed. Maybe you had noticed, but you thought it was because he could never possibly be interested in you romantically. You never let yourself entertain the thought of him wanting you in that way.

“It’s because you’re not like them, princess…. you’re different.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a crooked grin. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You blinked rapidly, thinking that you’re imagining this. You’ve been wanting to hear these words for so long. Suddenly, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room and your lungs fight for oxygen.

“Javi….” He immediately cut you off with a finger to your lips.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he exhaled loudly through nose. He shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s too late. He’s already kissed you once and now he wants more; he’s too far gone.

“Just let me say this, please.” You watch his eyes close for a moment, then open again; His brown eyes intensely focused on you. “I have feelings for you, princess……. I want to give you everything.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Would you give me that chance?” His voice is pleading, bordering on desperate.

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. You had wanted this for so long and now it was finally happening. The slight hum from the baby monitor filled the room as you continued to stare at each other. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

His thumb brushed your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes. Your skin tingled with the sensation, and you somehow resisted the urge to take the thick digit into your mouth and suck it. The rise and fall of your chest matched the pounding of your heart as he slowly leaned in and captured your lips with his.

His tongue touched your lips, and you parted them without a second thought, allowing him access to your mouth.

This feels like heaven. You had dreamt about what it would feel like to kiss him and the reality is better than you could have ever imagined. His kiss was surprisingly gentle, his soft tongue probed your mouth with a quiet intensity that made you throb for more.

His large hand cupped the back of your head as he gently pushed you down into the couch. His breath was quick and heavy as he leaned into you. His nose pressed against you as he deepened the kiss, pushing you further underneath him.

The rest of the world was completely forgotten as you pulled him even closer to you, snaking your fingers into his dark hair. Your tongues danced to a perfect rhythm as you both lost yourself in desire.

His hand found the hem of your shirt and his fingers slowly crept under the fabric. A soft moan escaped you as he finally came into contact with your bare skin. His calloused fingers skated across the smooth skin of your stomach, brushing across your ribcage, moving higher at a painfully slow pace surely designed to drive you insane.

The taste of the cherries mixed with the bitterness of the beer on your lips made his head swim. The way you had parted your lips for his tongue......God, he wanted to devour you. He wanted to take you right here on this couch and claim you as his.

He settled into the cradle of your thighs, his growing bulge pressing firmly against your aching heat. “Fuck, cariño.” The words left his lips in a breathy whisper, the want blanketing you like a thick fog blinding you to anything other than him. Your tongue licked into his mouth hungrily, almost desperately. His tongue pushed back against yours with equal force, letting you know he was just as much into this as you were. The ornamental clock on the wall ticking to the pace of your breathing as you fell deeper under his spell.

Javi’s thick fingers traced the lace of your bra, the thin material leaving little between his hand and your skin. Your breath faltered as his thumb brushed across your nipple until it sharpened under his ministrations. He quietly moaned his approval into your mouth along with a more forceful thrust of his tongue. Your back arched, pushing your body into his hand…..the desire pooling at your core.

Neither one of you heard the click of the latch as the front door swung open.

“Oh, fuck!” Steve’s voice brought you both crashing back to reality.

Javi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide and mouth agape. You scrambled out from underneath him, tugging at your shirt in a desperate attempt to cover up.

Steve chuckled and shook his head. His eyes danced between the two of you and he smirked. “I knew you two fuckers wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off each other.” His keys clanked against the bowl, and he shot a glance at Connie trying to suppress her giggles. “There better not be any cum stains on my couch.”

Javi’s jaw twitched as he moved away from you but otherwise, he was the picture of calm, not a shred of embarrassment shown on his beautiful face. You, on the other hand, were a different story. Your face burned as your eyes bored holes into the floor. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at Connie or Steve, even though the smile on your face could have lit up the darkest night. You were embarrassed about being caught but you didn’t regret a single moment of what happened between you and Javi on that couch. You swallowed your feelings of embarrassment and lifted your chin. You weren’t a teenager who’d just been caught making out with your boyfriend by your parents, you were an adult and you had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Did you enjoy the restaurant?” You asked Connie, changing the subject to calm your racing heart.

“Oh my god, it was amazing! The food was ridiculous. You would love it.” Her eyes darted to Javi and the subtle raise of her brow didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“I’m glad you had such a great time.” The two of you chatted briefly about how Olivia did throughout the night. Your eyes darted toward Javi and Steve, the two of them engrossed in their own conversation.

You grabbed your purse and called out to Steve, telling him you’d see him at work on Monday.

“Do I see double dates in our future?” Connie asked quietly as the two of you hugged.

You laughed softly. “Maybe?” Your eyes darted to Javi and the two of you locked eyes for a brief moment.

Your eyes drifted back to the couch. The heat of the moment you and Javi shared spreading through your body like smoldering embers. Your eyes fell on Javi one last time, his lips twitched into a crooked grin.

“I guess I should get out of here too.” Javi clapped Steve on the shoulder. “I’ll walk you out.”

He pecked Connie on the cheek and opened the door, allowing you to exit first. His hand rested gently at the small of your back as he guided you toward the stairs.

“You know, Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet Princess.” Javi whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

The warmth of his hand at your back made your skin tingle. “No, I guess it’s not.” Your lips twisted into a small smirk.

When you reached your car, he grabbed you by the waist spinning you around to face him, his eyes intense with desire. “I’m not ready to stop celebrating.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he pressed his body against yours. “Me either.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away just enough to look at you.

“My place.” His voice was rough with desire. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.

You slowly nodded, not wanting to seem too eager. He brushed his lips against yours one last time before releasing you from his grip and walking toward his own car; pausing momentarily to tilt his head to light a cigarette.

Was this the start of something? You had no idea…..but you were damn sure going to find out.

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