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ncttytrack · 4 months

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Sinful - s.j (m)

It’s not long before he comes all over himself, and the sight of him makes you bite your lip to not let out any sound. It’s then the reality hits you, you just watched Jake Sim jerk off infront of his computer, and he has no idea.

Summary: Your church counselor , Jake Sim, makes you feel stuff you never felt before. Are you strong enough to resist the temptation or will you let the sin of lust take over you?

Genre: SMUT, Churchboy!Jake x reader

Words: 3k+

Warnings: Agegap (Reader is 19 and Jake is 22), cry kink, creampie, slapping, chocking, slut shaming, Dom!Jake, Sub!Reader

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You lean against the bus window, looking out at all the trees passing before you. It’s in the middle of summer, and your mom decided to pack your bags and forcefully send you away to a church camp for kids your age. You are nineteen years old, old enough to make your own decisions, but not according to your mom, using the argument that she is your parent and that you should respect her. What about her respecting you? At least you weren’t going to this camp with strangers, the others were a part of your Sunday church group that you attended to church with every week. The bus is completely cramped, and out of curiosity, you look around only to get eye contact with one of your church concealers, Jake. He smiles when he sees you looking at him, which makes you quickly look away.

Jake was not your average church-boy, you knew that. He was hot, super hot. And not to forget to mention, he was young too, almost too young - only being 22 years old. He was older than you but still, did the hot and young church concealer have to come on the trip surrounded by girls checking him out every second? Not that you were any different. It was hard to ignore those soft plump lips, his expressive eyes and his fluffy black hair. You have always imagined how it would feel to ram your fingers through it. You looked back at him again to get another peak. Today he is wearing a white sleeveless shirt, making his muscular arms visible for you to gawk at. Your eyes follow down his arms to his hands. His hands are slender and long and he was always wearing stacks of silver rings. You imagine how it would feel if the cold metal rings made contact with your warm body.

It’s then his hand waves at you, making your eyes widen and look up at Jake's face. He looks at you with an amused expression. “Hm?” Your breath hitches and you look away again. You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment. Why did you have to stare at him like that?

You finally arrived at the camp, that bus ride took forever. You walk out of the bus, trying to drag your heavy backpack behind you. All of a sudden, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up, to see Jake standing beside you. “Um, did you want something? You looked at me a few times on the bus" He says and looks at you with a concerned look on his face. Coward. You only looked at him two times, what does he mean by ‘a few’? You look down on your feet, not being able to hold eye contact with him for more than three seconds. As a nervous reaction, you fiddle with the straps on your backpack. Not being able to stay silent forever, you finally answer him, occasionally being able to look into his eyes. “Ah, no it’s fine, I’m sorry for looking at you.” He looks at you up and down, still holding your shoulder. “No prob, just let me know if you need something m’kay?” He says, giving your shoulder a small squeeze, before walking away to talk to another counselor. It’s amusing that he acts so polite, as if the rumors about him weren't the nastiest you have ever heard. Apparently he sleeps around a lot, including with girls in your sunday-group. And according to a reliable source, or in other words, a girl you heard talking to her friend, he was "super big". Whatever that means.

Because of your strict religious family, sex was not a part of your everyday life. You kissed a guy once, on this camp when you were seventeen, and you still remember him trying to grope you under your clothes, before walking away when you pushed him away from you. You have never watched porn, let alone masturbated, your mother making sure that your hands should always be over the duvet when sleeping. Probably so she would know if you did something. You didn’t want to risk your parents getting disappointed in you.

It’s the next day, and you are walking from the camp's library back to the room you are sharing with three others. It’s then something in the counselor's room catches your eyes. It’s Jake, his head is tilted back, leaning towards his chair in front of the camp's (only) computer. The room has two big glass windows facing the hallway, and because the curtains aren’t down, you see everything inside.

His face looks weird, it’s an expression you had never seen before. His mouth is open, and his eyebrows are furrowed and it almost looks like he is in pain. What if he is hurt? Should you go in and help him? You are about to open the door, before suddenly stopping yourself. He seems to be watching something? You try to look closer, leaning in as much as you can on the window. It’s then you what he is watching.

It’s two people, pleasuring themselves in front of a camera. He's watching porn! You step back and your hand covers your mouth to cover the sound you let out. That’s why it looks like he is in pain, he is pleasuring himself. You try to look away, but the sight in front of you is too intriguing since you had never seen something like it before. You gain enough courage to look down at the ‘thing’ he is touching.

His hand is pumping his cock, and it’s leaking preecum. You suddenly begin to feel weird between your thighs, making you squeeze your thighs together to numb the feeling. The more you watch him get closer and closer, the more the pleasure grows inside your lower stomach. It’s not long before he comes all over himself, and the sight of him makes you bite your lip to not let out any sound. It’s then the reality hits you, you just watched Jake Sim jerk off infront of his computer, and he has no idea. Before he catches you, you run away back to your room and lock the door.

You sit down on the wooden stump in front of the fireplace. Everyone attending the camp is outside around the fireplace, forcefully listening to the counselors singing songs about Jesus and heaven. Jake suddenly appears besides you, switching places with another counselor, blaming it on the smoke coming from the fireplace. You still haven’t forgotten what you saw earlier, and the feeling you got from watching him between your thighs never left. “It’s beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Jake says and looks at you. How could he look at you like this as if he doesn't know what he was doing earlier in his room the same day. Your lack of response makes Jake put his hands on your thigh, making you gasp at the sudden feeling of his fingers making contact with your inner thigh. What if someone sees him? “Hm?” He looks at you and raises his eyebrows waiting for your response. You look up at him, his hands still on your thigh. His eyes are beautiful, making you lose your breath for a second before giving him an answer. “Yes…it is ”you say, and look away from him. He looks away from you and licks his bottom lip. You thought that he would leave your thigh alone after you responded, but it’s still on you. It’s sliding up and down your thigh, getting higher by every second. The arousal between your legs is getting too much for you to bear, and suddenly it’s enough. It begins to hurt, and you need to do something about it. You can’t wait for the feeling to die down, because it won't if you don’t make it go away. Whether you like it or not you need to touch yourself. To Jake's surprise you stand up abruptly, “Excuse me…”, you say as you walk away as quickly as you can to your room.

You try to open your door, but to your disadvantage it’s looked. Urgh. You forget that the counselors lock the rooms to stop us from skipping the campfire evenings. You look out of the window at the church only a meter away from the camp. The guilt inside of you increases as you make your way to the only place you know would give you privacy. You hurry your way to open the big heavy door of the church, walk down the narthex and sit on the first row. Too bad that this church doesn't have a confession booth, though otherwise you could've hid in there to act out your sins.

You button up your pants quickly to get it over with, and lean back on the wooden bench. The image of Jake Sim enters your brain, but the moment you touch your core outside of your panties you stop. You have never masturbated before, and you definitely don’t know what to do. You look at the big Jesus sculpture by the altar, and it feels like he is staring at you. You close your eyes out of guilt and begin to cry. You are so frustrated, and the guilt inside your chest makes you want to disappear. It’s then you feel a hand on the top of your hair, patting it.

You didn't notice anyone walking into the church, so the sudden touch makes you open your eyes, only to meet Jake's gaze. You let out a small scream and cover yourself with your arms. He looks at you with pleading eyes, before crouching down so he is eye level with you. His hand leaves the top of your head, and he cups your cheeks with both of his hands. His lips form into a teasing pout. “Aw baby, why are your pants down? And why are you crying?” You look at him with tears in your eyes. Your whole body hurts and you have no idea what to do with it. “Jake, please, it hurts”. He pokes the inside of his cheeks with his tongue, and looks at you trying to act disappointed. His hands leave your cheeks and he stands up, looking down at you. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, and tilts his head to the side, trying to look intimidating. It’s working. Your heart sinks.

“I don’t know baby, what would god say if he saw you like this in his holy temple.” You are desperate, so desperate that you kneel down infront of him, clapping your hands together in front of him, begging. You look up at him “Please Jake, please help me and make this feeling disappear. It hurts, it hurts so much. I don’t know what to do.” He looks down at you pleading, and sighs. He brings up his finger and points at the bench behind you, signaling you to sit on it. You do so, standing up from your kneeling position. Your knees are sore from the hard contact of the church floor, and the pain makes you limp to the bench. He sits down beside you, grabs your shoulders and turns you so you face him.

You part your lips and look at him, and his eyes look at your lips. You get ready to kiss him, when one of his hands suddenly caresses your chin softly, before pushing you down on your stomach on his lap. You let out a yelp, and your hands try to cover your bare ass from Jake's sight. He slaps your hands away, and grabs your wrists so you are unable to push him away. His hand suddenly touches your ass rubbing it up and down. You begin to whine at his touch, he is such a tease. “Tsk, tsk, do you really think you deserve my help without getting some sort of punishment for your actions?”. He doesn’t let you answer, before his hand suddenly slaps your ass hard. You let out a gasb and your back arch, getting wetter by his harsh treatment. “Please-” He slaps you one more time, and then once more right after - harder this time, leaving a big red mark on your skin. You begin to cry again because of the pain, and how wet you are from it. “Shh, baby, you are doing so good for me, ok?” He says and massages the cheek he just slapped. He pushes you away from his lap, moving back so he appears behind you, you are still laying on your stomach on the bench. You look back at Jake, the look on your face is enough for him to know what you want. He leans down over your back, and his face is right by yours. “What do you want me to do baby, use your words”

You can feel his soft breaths against your neck, and you begin to tremble. “I want you to take care of me Jake”. He leans back away from you, standing on his knees on the hard bench. “Do you want Jake to take care of you, to make the ache go away?” He says as his hands come in contact with inner thighs, pushing you up so your ass comes in contact with his lower stomach. He grabs the side of your panties, slowly dragging them down, making your juices slide down your inner thigh. He groans at the sight of your drenched pussy, lightly touching it with his fingers to feel you, making you let out a breathy moan.

“You are so wet already, was that from the slapping? You dirty slut, what would god say if he saw you?”. His finger slides through your folds, coating his finger with your juices. He puts his finger into his mouth, tasting you. “You want Jakey to touch you, baby?”. You look back at him and whine, not being able to speak. He chuckles at your expression and slides two fingers into you. You let out a loud moan at the unusual feeling. Automatically you start to grind down on his fingers, wanting to feel more of him. He slaps you making you yelp. “Eager now are we? You are so dirty.” The feeling of his fingers, combinated with his harsh words is making you feel more pleasure.

While still pumping his fingers in and out of you he unbuttons his pants with his other hand and lets his hard cock out, slapping it on your ass. You gasp, and look back, seeing it for the second time. He was huge, definitely too huge for you to handle when it your first time taking cock. “Are you a virgin?” He says, and you nod your head, biting your lip. He pulls his fingers out of you, slaps your pussy, and brings his cock close to your hole. He teases your already sore pussy with his hard cock, before pushing it into you. Your moan could be heard throughout the whole church, making Jake grab your neck from behind, so your back leans on his chest. While he slowley begins to fuck into your tight hole, he takes over your mouth with his to muffle your loud moans. He kisses you softly, roaming your mouth with his tongue, while fucking you gently. He stops kissing you, and brings up his hand to your mouth demanding you to suck on it. You let his finger into your mouth, lubricating it with your saliva. He pulls his finger out of your mouth, and brings it up under your shirt to your nipple.

He plays with your hard nipple before pinching it harshly making you let out a scream. His hands leave your breast, and place it on your waist. His thrusts are still slow, and you want it faster, deeper, harder. “Please Jakey”. The hold on your neck gets tighter, making it harder for you to breathe. “What do you want, baby? Tell me what you want, like the good girl I know you are, or I won't give it to you.” You let out a shaky breath and look up at the church painting in front of you. The painting makes you cry, you can’t believe you would let someone like Jake Sim to take over your body in such a holy place like this. Your tears fall down your cheeks and make contact with Jake's hand. “I want you to fuck me harder Jake, to use me until there is no sin left for me to commit”.

As Jake begins to fasten his pase, going in and out of your drenched core, you continue to cry. Getting close, Jake leans down into your neck to muffle his moans, and you feel the sweat from his forehead sliding down your chest making your stomach wet. The closer you get, the faster he fucks into you, the deeper he fucks is cock into you. It’s not long before he comes into you, making you come as well, filling you up completely. You can feel his cum leaking out of your pussy and it's warm and sticky. He slides his cock out of you and wraps his arms around your body, as he kisses your neck, being extra careful to not leave a bruise. His hand grabs your chin softly and makes you look up at him. Your mascara is on your cheek from all the crying, and he uses his thumb to make the black smudge go away. “You know what to do baby” He says and looks down on your hands before looking at the holy painting on the wall in front of you.

You bring your hands in front of you and begin to pray, still looking at Jake.

“Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your unfailing love according to Your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.”

But you know that is no use, and Jake knows this as well. He grabs one of your praying hands and brings it up to him mouth, kissing it. No matter how much you pray, you don't belong to Christ anymore.

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Finally wrote a Jake fic 🤞 Hope you liked it!

Xoxo 💋

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tatsumessy · 1 year

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Missed calls - {itoshi sae}

“gosh you’re so fucking annoying. I wanted to call my girlfriend so that I could calm down from the huge amount of stress I’m already under and here you are acting like a nagging clingy psycho.” before any other words could be spoken you hung up the phone placing it on the nightstand.

Sae <3: I’m sorry.

Sae <3: y/n?

1 missed call

5 missed calls

12 missed calls

20 missed calls

hearing your phone ring once again you picked up up furiously screaming into the phone. “WHAT?” you yelled out of character, there was silence before he spoke, “you’re ignoring my calls.” without answering you slammed your phone on the nightstand not before turning on do not disturb.

you and sae had gotten in a pretty heated argument which ultimately ended with you hanging up the phone and ignoring it. he is in the states right now for a tournament so he can’t come to you. usually his sullen, dull, asshole personality would be just fine because that’s what you’re used too but this time he went too far.

he seemed like he didn’t even care. he wasn’t due to come back until next month so you opted to block his number leaving him with his “issues” that he has to deal with. if he thinks you’re clingy, fine. you’ll just go on about your business and leave him to do whatever he wanted. he always acts like he doesn’t want to be in a relationship so why not give him the freedom he’s wanted.

sae the moment those words came out his mouth felt like a dick. you were only worried because he had gotten trashed in an interview and it was shown on tv everywhere. he was frustrated and took it out of you, he knew the choice of words that he spoke was wrong but he said it anyways.

after you hung up on him he decided to wait until the morning to talk to you but his text weren’t going through and his calls weren’t either. “I’m sorry, the number you have dialed-” he tossed his phone on the hotel bed grabbing his head in frustration. his day was already starting horrible, usually you two would call each other in the morning and talk about what you’d do during the day so that you two knew when to call each other later.

two weeks passed and at this point he had called your number at least 40 times a day. any free second he had he would call you or text you, this is the longest you two had ever gone without talking to each other and he was seriously getting worried. getting back to his hotel for the night he laid down on his back holding his phone above his face. his phone was basically stuck on your contact card and that was the only form of you he had besides the endless albums of you in his photos or his rotating lockscreen picture.

he backed out of your contact and went to his brother’s reluctantly pressing the call button and waiting for him to answer. “what?” he spoke and sae was already rolling his eyes at his brother attitude. “can you check on y/n?” rin let out an annoyed sigh and sae could hear shuffling on his end of the phone. “y/n are you okay?” he heard you say yeah in the background confused then he heard more shuffling before rin spoke up again.

“she’s fine.” he was about to hang up but sae needed to ask, “why are you with y/n?” “we have dinner ever sunday together.” before any more questions could be asked rin hung up the phone leaving sae feeling more empty than he already was.

a month passed and now with him coming home he was excited to see you but he needed to win this game before going home to you.

you were sitting in your car outside of the stadium debating on whether or not you wanted to go in. you had never missed any of his home games and you didn’t want to start, you just kept going back to your argument. the night sae called rin, that was the only time he had ever come over to yours and sae’s apartment for dinner. you had spoken to him about what happened and even though him and his brother aren’t really that close he gave you good advice.

“sae is an asshole, that not a secret. he doesn’t think before he speaks and doesn’t think about the damage his words can cause. all I have to say is he has never called me for anything relatively important but he just called me to ask if you were okay. I can’t speak for him, he said what he said and now he’s paying the price for it. only speak to him when you are ready.” he ended with that before leaving.

last night when you unblocked his number all the messages and missed calls that you missed flowed through your phone all at once. tears prickled on your bottoms lash line reading all of his text messages. the last one had you crying yourself to sleep while hugging his pillow.

sae <3: this is the last message I’ll send tonight. tomorrow we’re coming back and I would love to see you. I know you are probably still upset with me and I would be too. I hurt the person I love so bad to the point where we haven’t spoken in a month. I miss you, I love you and if you come to the game and even though I’m we haven’t worked things out, if you wear my jersey tomorrow I’ll know that we’ll be okay. sweet dreams princess i love you.

he was right, you were still pissed but you missed sae, prior to the argument he’d been gone for a month already and that made you miss him so much more. the sheets didn’t smell like him anymore nor did his pillow. you wanted sae back but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. unzipping your jacket you slipped the long sleeve over your head then pulled down the mirror to fix your hair and makeup.

you sat in the VIP section in your normal seat playing on your phone until the game ended. everyone stood up leaving the area while you stayed put, you could see sae being interviewed by someone but because of the distance you couldn’t tell if he was actually paying attention which irked your nerves. he was always so rude to people whenever they interviewed him but went through with them because you asked.

a couple of minutes passed and once almost all the people were gone you noticed sae started to walk towards your direction so you stood up and walked down the steps stopping at the railings that was separating the two of you. “y/n…” he spoke stopping right infront of you, looking at him you kind of glared trying to hide how much you missed him. more silence filled his ears and out of defeat he dropped his head taking a deep breath.

suddenly a small quiet sniffle sounded and he looked back up with tears in his eyes. “I can’t lose you, I fucked up I know I did. if you want to punish me some more then do it but please stop ignoring me I physically can’t do it anymore, I can’t live without you.” standing there you looked at him in shock, he’s never cried before especially over something like this.

“meet me in the tunnel.” “no.” he quickly responded jumping up and climbing over the railing. he landed immediately taking you into his arms, you gasped at his action but ultimately wrapped your arms around him gently rubbing his back. for a quick second you could feel him shaking but you may have been imagining it.

he pulled back keeping his arms wrapped around you so that he could admire what he missed in these two months. “you look gorgeous, I love you princess.”

“I know you do, you and your 1,882 calls” he laughed awkwardly as you pressed a small kiss on his sweaty jawline smiling up at him. “I love you too.”

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mc-i-r · 9 months

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Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!

Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks

———

It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.

See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.

He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.

There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.

He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.

Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.

Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.

“Um.. what do you mean?”

“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.

“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.

“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”

The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.

Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.

The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.

“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.

Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.

“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“

“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.

“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.

Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.

Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.

But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.

He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.

Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.

Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.

He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.

“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.

He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.

A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.

Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.

“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.

“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.

“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.

“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.

“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.

The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.

He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.

God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.

“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.

Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?

Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.

He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.

With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.

Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.

But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?

Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.

To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.

The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.

“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.

“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.

“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“

His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.

The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.

It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.

The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.

Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.

Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.

“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”

Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”

Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.

Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.

He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.

So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.

It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?

He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.

And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.

Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.

“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.

“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.

This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.

“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.

“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.

“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.

“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…

He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.

“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.

Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.

“How did you-“

“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”

Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.

He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.

After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.

“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.

“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.

“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.

“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.

“I really should be going, sorry.”

“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.

“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.

“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.

“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”

He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.

They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.

“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.

“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.

Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.

He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.

It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.

He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.

After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.

He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.

After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.

So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.

A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.

His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.

He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.

So he walks.

He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.

Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.

Eddie. Eddie.

His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.

He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.

He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.

He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.

At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.

But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.

Steve walks out the door.

His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.

He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.

Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.

Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.

Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.

On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.

He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?

Maybe this will fix him.

Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.

Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?

He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.

He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.

He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.

His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.

The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.

It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.

He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.

A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.

But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.

It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.

It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.

Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.

The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.

He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.

Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.

A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-

Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.

Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.

“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-

“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.

Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.

“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.

To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.

“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.

Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“

“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.

Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.

He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.

“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.

Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.

“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.

“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”

Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.

It’s terrifying.

He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.

He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.

“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.

“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.

The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.

“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”

Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”

‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’

Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.

“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.

“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.

He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.

“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”

“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.

Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.

His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.

His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.

A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.

The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.

The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.

He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

Taglist: @tea-beloved @starry-eyedlune @hyperfixationgoddess @zerokrox-blog @nicovania @invisibleflame812 @chaoticvictorianspirit @justforthedead89 @dacremontgomeryay @vhelt @adhdsummer @nerd-and-nervous @i-have-three-feelings @mimicori @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @solliesolesito @romanticdestruction @vanillatwist @bowl-o-queerios @grimmfitzz

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

#steddie #stranger things #pre steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fillet #stranger things drabble #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #things get better for Steve i promise #hes just having his angsty time right now #robins part is next tho so stay tuned for that #disposable heroes

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gingiesworld · 6 months

Text

Hot Milf’s Kitten

MILF Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut. Strap on use. Dom Mommy Wanda. Sub Kitten Reader.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

18+ MINORS DNI

It was no secret that Wanda was promiscuous, even with two 10 year old boys who live with her throughout the school week. It gave her time as she asked her best friend's sister for help around the house on the weekend, as a way to earn extra money for the repairs that Wanda had no knowledge about.

“So, my fridge has been making this awful sound.” Wanda informed Y/N who just listened as Nat was making some drinks. “I figured you might know something about it while studying engineering?”

“I can have a look at it on Saturday, if that’s ok with you?” She asked her as Wanda smiled.

“That’s perfect.” She gave the younger woman’s knee a squeeze. “Just come by anytime, I’ll be home all day.”

“You need to meet someone, Wanda.” Nat said as she placed the drinks down. “You aren’t getting any younger.”

“I think she’s aging like a fine wine.” Y/N blurted out, making Yelena laugh through her nose. “What?” She questioned the blonde, completely missing the blush forming on the older woman’s cheeks. It was no secret to Yelena that Y/N had the biggest crush on Wanda, but she would never do anything to ruin Wanda’s friendship with Nat.

“Actually, come by on Friday evening, you can have a look at it and I’ll make you something to eat.” Wanda told her firmly as she stood up, Nat looked at her friend worried in case she had crossed a line.

“Of course.” Y/N nodded with a smile as Wanda left the house, Nat following behind her.

“Wanda, are you ok?” She asked as she followed Wanda to her car.

“I have to pick up the twins.” She told her as she unlocked the door.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I really think you should put yourself out there again.” Nat told her. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.” Wanda told her. “I just need to concentrate on Billy and Tommy.”

“Come on, you still have the fattest crush on her.” Yelena teased Y/N as she followed the younger one to her room.

“And?” She replied as she turned to face her. “It’s not like anything will ever happen because I am still in college.”

“You’re 24.” Yelena corrected her.

“And Wanda is 37, she will not go for someone who is 13 years younger.” Y/N told her as she turned around to get her paper out. “I need to finish this for monday.” She told her sister who just nodded, leaving her be as she worked on her thesis.

Wanda spent the rest of the week thinking about what Y/N had said. She remembered Y/N had had a crush on her since they were younger, it was something she had always deemed as cute but now she wonders what it will be like to be with her. To use Y/N for her own personal needs.

“I have made sure that Billy has a spare inhaler.” Wanda told Jarvis when he came to pick up the twins for the weekend. “Also, Tommy has a soccer match on Sunday at lunch time.”

“I know.” He spoke tiredly as the twins waited tiredly by the door. Wanda gave the twins a kiss on the cheek and a hug before they left with their father, leaving Wanda to clean the house before Y/N arrived. She took a deep breath as there was a knock on the door. When she opened it, she gave Y/N a nervous smile as she answered the door.

“So, the fridge.” Y/N spoke up, breaking the awkward silence between the two of them.

“Yes.” She stepped aside, letting Y/N inside before leading her into the kitchen. “It’s making this whirring sound, it’s very faint but I have sensitive ears and it is very annoying.”

“I’ll take a look at it now and see what tools I’ll need to bring tomorrow.” Y/N told her. Wanda watched as Y/N moved the fridge out to have a look at the motor behind it. She bit her lip as she could hear Y/N mumble to herself, most likely taking mental notes of how she could fix it. After what felt like forever, Y/N finally came out from behind, moving it back to its spot. “It’s just a simple fix, I have my tool box in my car and I can fix it now if you’d like.”

“Are you sure?” Wanda asked her as she nodded.

“Of course.” Y/N was fast to leave to retrieve her tools before getting straight to work. Wanda busied herself by making some food for the two of them while Y/N had worked. She was soon broken out of her thoughts when Y/N had pushed the fridge back. “How does it sound now?” Y/N asked Wanda as the two remained silent for a moment.

“I can’t hear it.” She whispered with a smile. “Thank you so much.” She wrapped her arms around Y/N’s shoulders, hugging her tightly before pulling away slightly, looking into the younger woman’s eyes for a moment. “How did you grow up so beautifully?” She whispered as she caressed Y/N’s cheek.

“I don’t know.” Y/N answered nervously, all of a sudden her mouth was dry as Wanda’s gaze shot to her lips. “I guess I was lucky.” Wanda shook her head no as their noses touched.

“I guess I just have never seen you like this before.” Wanda whispered as Y/N raised a questioning brow. “You were always my best friend’s little sister and now.” Her voice trailed off as her hands moved slowly round Y/N’s neck to her chest.

“Now what?” Y/N asked as Wanda sighed as Y/N pressed her body closer to Wanda’s.

“As someone who can make me scream.” Wanda told her seductively, giving Y/N a go ahead to kiss her roughly. Wanda moaned as she was pushed against the opposite counter, her hands gripping Y/N’s shirt as the two made out like horny teenagers. “Fingers.” Wanda gasped as Y/N started to kiss and suck her neck. “I need your fingers.” Y/N kept ignoring her words so Wanda grabbed a fistful of Y/N’s hair, pulling her face away, a smirk grew on her face as Y/N moaned at the action. “On your knees.” Wanda ordered her as Y/N did as she was told, watching as Wanda undone her bottoms. Wanda smirked as Y/N licked her lips. “Mommy needs your help.” Wanda pulled down her jeans and underwear in one go. “Can you do that for me, kitten? Can you help me with that pretty mouth?”

All Y/N could do was nod as Wanda ran her fingers through Y/N’s hair. Y/N inhaled the arousal that was dripping down Wanda’s thighs before diving in. Licking a strip through her folds before she sucked on Wanda’s clit. Her arms wrapped around Wanda’s thighs as Wanda’s moans filled the kitchen, Wanda’s hand keeping Y/N’s head in place as she worked.

“Fuck.” Wanda moaned as Y/N inserted two fingers, keeping her lips wrapped around Wanda’s bundle of nerves. “Right there.” She cried out as her legs started to shake, thighs clenching around Y/N’s head as she increased her speed as she added a third finger. “Y/N!” Wanda screamed as she came, feeling Y/N’s tongue as she cleaned her up. Once Y/N had come out for air, Wanda pulled her up and kissed her roughly, moaning as she tasted herself on Y/N’s tongue. “I am going to have so much fun with you kitten.” She whispered before the doorbell rang. Quickly getting herself ready before she left the kitchen to answer the door to her neighbour.

“Oh, hi Y/N.” Agatha beamed, greeting the younger woman who approached with her toolbox.

“Hi.” She then turned to Wanda. “Your fridge is fixed.”

“Wait here, let me get the money for you.” Wanda grazed her arm as Y/N shook her head.

“It’s ok Wanda.” She told her. “I really have to go.”

“I’ll drop it off with Nat tomorrow.” Wanda smiled at the younger woman before she left, soon allowing Agatha inside.

“So, Wanda and I are also going out tonight so we will probably see you guys.” Nat told both Yelena and Y/N who groaned. It had been weeks since Y/N had fixed the fridge and now every week, Wanda says there is a new job just so she and Y/N can have some of their own fun.

“Seriously? Don’t make a show because I am trying to pull someone.” Yelena stated as Y/N smirked.

“So, you’re finally going to make a move on Kate?” She questioned with a raised brow.

“Are you going to finally make a move on Wanda?” She challenged as Nat was the one to laugh.

“I haven’t heard that in years.” Both Yelena and Y/N turned to face her. “We both used to think your crush on her was cute, although it would be fucked up if you still had a crush on her considering she has watched you grow up.” With that she left as Yelena gave Y/N a sad smile, handing her her jacket before the two left to meet their friends.

Once the two had separated, Y/N had found Carol, Sharon and Bucky. The four of them greet each other with a round of shots. As the night wore on, everyone started to loosen up and started to dance, Sharon dragged Y/N to the dancefloor, grinding on her just as Wanda walked through the door with Nat.

“Please don’t tell me they’re fucking again.” Nat groaned as Wanda’s eyes landed on Y/N and Sharon. Jealousy burned within as she watched Sharon grind on her kitten.

“Let’s get a drink.” Wanda dragged Nat over to the bar, ordering themselves a drink as Carol sauntered over.

“Hey Nat.” She smirked at the older woman. “How are you sweets?” She asked as Wanda tried not to laugh as Nat blushed lightly.

“I am ok.” Nat answered quickly before taking a big sip of her drink. “How are you?” She asked the younger woman who’s fingers now danced on Natasha’s shoulder.

“I am even better now your beautiful self is here.” She flirted as Wanda rolled her eyes, watching as Sharon disappeared towards the bathroom. Wanda walked over to Y/N who started to dance with another girl on the dancefloor. She soon moved in front of Y/N and started to grind on her.

“Who was that?” Wanda asked as she turned around, pulling on Y/N’s jacket.

“That was Sharon, she’s just a friend.” Y/N told her honestly.

“It seemed like she was more.” Wanda told her firmly. “And that was also something that Natasha had mentioned too.”

“Seriously?” Y/N scoffed before heading for the exit, Wanda hot on her tail.

“Where are you going?” Wanda asked her as she wrapped her arms around herself as to shield herself from the cold.

“Home.” Y/N answered bluntly.

“You can’t leave on your own.” Wanda told her. “Your sisters and friends will worry about you.”

“I’m sure they are all occupied,Wanda.” She told her firmly, Wanda just scoffed before she approached Y/N, gripping her jaw as she forced the younger woman to look into her eyes.

“I expect to be shown respect, kitten.” She growled as Y/N gulped. “Will you show mommy some respect?”

“Yes.” Y/N answered.

“Yes what?” Wanda raised a brow.

“Yes mommy.” Y/N whimpered as Wanda soon flagged down a cab, sending a quick message to Nat, explaining that she didn’t feel up to being out.

As the driver drove to Wanda’s house, the two made out in the backseat like a couple of teens. Once the driver was paid, Wanda dragged Y/N inside and up to her bedroom.

“Strip.” She ordered her, sitting on the edge of the bed as Y/N disposed of her clothes, soon standing before her completely nude. Wanda stood up and turned her back to her. “Unzip me.” Y/N did as she was told, helping the older woman strip. Once Wanda stood before Y/N, looking up into her eyes as her fingers danced on the skin of the younger woman. “You know, I don’t think I have ever felt this alive as I do with you.” She moved away to get something from her nightstand. “I know we have only used our fingers and tongues, but I have had dreams.” She helped Y/N with the harness. “Not so innocent ones of you fucking me with this strap.” She slapped Y/N’s ass before massaging it. “Will you fuck mommy, kitten? Fuck mommy until she can’t take it no more.”

“Yes mommy.” Y/N kissed Wanda roughly, her arms wrapping around the older woman as she walked her towards the bed, pushing her down on her back before she started to attack the older woman’s neck, kissing and biting wherever she could. Wanda’s moans filled the room as Y/N sucked harshly on her nipples as the toy massaged her clit as their hips mildly grinded together.

“Fuck me.” She ordered Y/N who did as she was told. Inserting the full length of the toy, making Wanda’s hold on her tighten as she started to thrust her hips, pulling out just to slam right back in. Wanda’s screams in pleasure only spurred her on as she soon increased her pace. “I’m so close.” Wanda mewled as Y/N continued her movements, wanting to keep her happy. Soon enough Wanda screamed as she came, smiling as Y/N kissed her softly as she pulled out, only to push Y/N on her back as she straddled her stomach. “You have a mess to clean.” With that, she lined her already dripping core with Y/N’s face, lowering herself down as Y/N’s arms wrapped around her legs, using her tongue as Wanda used her face as she wanted. Holding onto the headboard, her second orgasm fast approached as she was sensitive from the first orgasm. “OH Y/N!!!” She screamed as she came, Y/N lapped up every drop before the older woman collapsed beside her, helping Y/N remove the strap before she cuddled up to her. The two lay in silence for a moment before Y/N spoke up.

“What does this mean to you?” She asked the older woman, her voice laced with raw vulnerability.

“I don’t know.” She whispered as she held onto Y/N’s hand, playing with her fingers. “When it happened the first time, it was just supposed to be some sort of release for me.” She looked up into Y/N’s eyes. “I guess it’s more than just that because I am falling for you and I am so scared.”

“I’m afraid too.” Y/N confessed. “I have always had this pull towards you and I only understand now that it is love. I am in love with you Wanda, and I am afraid that you may never return my feelings.” Wanda kissed her tenderly before gazing into her eyes tenderly.

“I do.” Wanda told her sincerely. “I am in love with you, Y/N. I guess I have been since the moment you fixed my kitchen window.”

“That was almost a year ago.” She chuckled as Wanda nodded.

“I guess I was afraid.” She whispered as she yawned. “I had never been with a woman before and then you came home.” Y/N kissed the top of Wanda's head as she pulled the comforter over the two of them. Wanda sighed as she snuggled in further to Y/N who wrapped her protective arms around the older woman, falling asleep with smiles on their faces.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

bed time • a. artlert

I cannot get over the idea of armin trying to help his little insomniac, gamer girlfriend get some rest, putting her to sleep the best way he knows how 😮‍💨🥴

cw: nerdy, bratty, blackfem!reader, mean, dom armin (he’s so aggressive in this 😫), choking, fucking reader in her gaming chair, heavy squirting, overstimulation, degradation, pet names (sweetheart, angel, daddy’s used a couple times), name calling, spit kink, fingering, aftercare

📝: I was supposed to put this out last night but I got preoccupied and didn’t finish so here y’all go! 🫶🏾

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“Dude, you totally could’ve taken that shot. The fuck are you doing?” The sounds of (y/n)’s irate voice ringing throughout the bedroom. It was the late night hours of a relaxed Saturday night, possibly into Sunday..you hadn’t been vexed to check the time as you were busy smashing away at keys on your computer and shouting into your headset. Wired frame glasses sitting atop your pretty face, lights reflecting off of your tiny silver nose stud and your newly installed wet and wavy locks resting underneath the large pink bonnet atop them, along with your cat eared headset. This was a regular occurrence, one that took place more so often than you’d like to admit. It wasn’t rare for you to be up at all hours of the night, playing online games with friends, even at the expense of your own rest. It was a nasty habit, one you formed after pulling all night study sessions. Now you were a full blown insomniac with seemingly no end in sight. Although, there was one person who wasn’t too thrilled about the sudden shift in your sleep patterns… “..come on, (y/n). It’s three am. What are you still doing awake?” The first words to leave the mouth of your long time boyfriend and sweetheart, Armin as he burst through the door of your designated game room. He himself was certainly no stranger to this lifestyle and would happily hop on matches with you..at a reasonable hour of course. But that was never the case with you! Always up until the asscrack of dawn, playing game after game instead of going to bed. But now that he was spending the next couple of weeks at your place, he wasn’t having it. Suddenly, snickers could be heard through the feed of your headphones and talking to you. “Is that your boyfriend, (y/n)? How sweet..” rolling your eyes and smacking your lips at the sarcastic joke of one of your friends. “Shut the hell up. He’s just coming to check on me.” He was standing in the doorframe, shirt off and pajama pants dangling on his v-line..a tattoo each on his chest and forearm decorating his skin; looking good as always.

taking his fingers through the blonde shag atop his head, he’d make his way over to your chair, resting his arms atop the front. He had grown alarmed as is when you’d text him up well up into four am or try to FaceTime when he was so exhausted. It just didn’t occur to him how bad the problem truly was until he visited. He had all but had to drag you off of it and he was really scared for your mental and physical health. “Sorry guys, I’ve been busted. Baby says I gotta go to sleep.” Although you weren’t too thrilled to do so. However, he’d be disappointed to find that you had no plans to go easily. Even so, you’d log off and take off your headset. Turning in your chair in a frustrated huff. However, Armin was not swayed by your tiny tantrum. “Don’t give me that look. You promised you’d get some rest. At this rate, babe, you’re not going to be able to keep going.” You heard what he was saying well enough, too bad his words weren’t quite registering. You were still wired up, hyper and amped as always. Possibly it was the Red Bull coursing your veins or adrenaline from another win but being stopped mid game was truly putting a damper in your mood. “Arminnnnn. I’m fine..I swear, you worry too much.” That agitated and pouty look on your precious face was doing nothing more than fueling his point. “(Y/N), you’re going to bed. That’s it. Now come on. Tell your little friends good night and let’s go to sleep.” When he got like this, it wasn’t in your best interest to attest him but you couldn’t help yourself! It was always fun to push his buttons and poke the bear.

“And if I don’t want to, then what?” Folding your arms across your chest, batting those fluttery lashes and giving him quite the irritated glare. Granted, Armin was used to you being defiant when it came to this but he wasn’t much in the way of arguing with you tonight. Especially with exams coming up and him having to go to work in the morning. The last thing he wanted was to find you collapsed on the floor, in front of the computer after your body gives out. Which has happened! “(Y/N), don’t start. I’m not doing this with you.” Feinting his frustration through a laugh as he stood before your chair. Arms outstretched on each side and towering over you..you couldn’t lie, it was a bit of a turn on! “Well last I checked, Armin, I am a grown woman and I can stay up all night if I want to. Now let me finish—“ but before you could spin around in your chair, defiant and purposely being a brat, he’d spin it right back around and keep it in place. “Do you really wanna try me right now? Because I wouldn’t advise it, sweetheart. Do not piss me off..get up..now.” that low, sexy growl creeping into his tone and it was then that you knew you’d only need to press just a tad bit more to get the reaction you needed. Truth be told, you were beginning to get a bit tired…. “Make me..”

but it was far more exciting to let him fuck you to sleep!

he knew that you were baiting him along, Armin wasn’t dumb by a long shot. You were only stalling to get him riled up. Normally, he wouldn’t think to bite..dismissing you altogether but since you just kept asking for it, he’d give you what you needed: to be put to bed and in your place! Chuckling to himself, Armin would try and calmly respond but it was blatantly obvious that you wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he’d grasp your throat; lightly choking you but with enough force to keep you pinned to the chair. Eliciting a loud gasp from between your lips..gaze fixated solely on him from this point forward. “Remember..you asked for this..” just then, he’d shove his tongue through your pursed lips, permeating the inside of your mouth with sloppy kisses. Ones that took you completely off guard and caused you to whimper underneath his grasp. At this point, you had made your bed and now it was time to lie in it. He gave you an option to get up of your own accord but now? You’d be lucky if you were able to even walk once he finished! Amid the makeout session, Armin slowly but surely began to peel off those thin articles of clothing, exposing those perky titties which were his favorite..your dark hued nipples hardening the second they made contact with the cool air. He wasn’t about to give you an opportunity for the slightest bit of control and that much was apparent when he began massaging those big breasts, fixating on them for a moment but when you tried to put your hands up to assist him, he’d quickly push them away, pinning them to the arms.

“Did I ask for your help?..”

“ ‘Min, I—“

“That’s what I thought. Get those fucking hands out of my way.”

it was something about his sudden aggression and domineering attitude that would turn you on beyond relief. Releasing a couple gasps, you’d chew your bottom lip and allow him to take the reins. From there, he’d nip at your neck, growling and suckling on the sensitive skin. Eventually, he’d pull back those thin shorts and sink his hand inside. He wanted to see your reactions..those cute little faces you made when he was pleasuring you. Burying those digits to the knuckle inside of your warmth and circling your clit with his thumb pad, all while not breaking eye contact once..yeah, you definitely had pissed him off something fierce! “Open your legs, put them on the side of the chair and don’t move until I say so..” positioning yourself in sort of a stir up. It was then that he’d hoist them and remove your shorts to render your bottom half completely nude. It didn’t take long to realize how aroused you were by his sudden shift in demeanor. Your normally sweet Armin was so irate, that he was handling you like a rag doll. Parting your thigh, slapping your ass and clutching your neck. “..such a brat..always giving me a hard time..” muttering to himself as he continued working you over with those middle and index digits; pushing in and out, going slow just to stir up that building slick. Coating his hand and palm with the slippery substance. You were so adorable, attempting to resist and defy him, knowing damn well that you’d only wind up caving to him eventually. Hell, your insides were already two steps ahead of your mind; conforming to his shape! Twisting your head away from him, only to have it forcefully snatched back.

“But you only do it because you know I’ll fuck that little attitude out of you, don’t you?” Grinning with a sinister glare as he sped up his movements. Sounds of sloshing wetness coagulating with your sexy little cries and the squeaking of the chair. “Answer me, sweetheart. Don’t be rude.” And at the moment, you were practically trembling for him and Armin was more than happy to see that sight “..y-yes, daddy!” That bulge was beginning to grow ever so slightly from behind his sweats and you were the reason. Getting his dick all hard when you defied him. It made it all the more satisfying to break you when you acted this way. Going from rolling your arms to not even being able to keep them in the front of your head as he made you climax. To smacking those pretty little lips to having them wrapped around his cock when he throatfucked you for testing his patience…see, to the outside world, he appeared as sweet and innocent but you knew better! Nobody could handle you the way he could and he’d be damned if you kept trying it. He’d continue to press at your spot, mashing against that sensitive nerve to evoke more out of you. Those blonde locks of his straggled in front of your face as he pressed your foreheads together. “Aww, so you haven’t completely lost your mind. Open your mouth, right now.” Prompting you to do so to spit between your jaws. So he could force your head down and make you regurgitate it back into your folds. It was almost pathetic how desperate you looked, bogged down on his hand; squirming in an attempt to take him further. He knew what it was that you needed..craved more than anything and that was to be crammed full of his dick! It was almost disgusting how badly he had been dreaming of doing this exact thing. Fucking you in this very position. Piping you with those eight inches as you played your little games…it gave him a rush to think about all your friends hearing you get fucked senseless. And alas, it had come to fruition. Those little legs dangling off the sides of the chair arms and shaking violently. Before any of that could happen though..he needed something else and that was to make you come. Just one time of many..

“I’m!—Baby, I’m gonna come, pleaseee.” But that was sufficient enough for him. No, if that’s what you wanted, you better have begged for it. “Are you? Last time I checked, that’s not how you ask for permission, sweetheart. Act like you’ve done this before.” That condescending tone twisting your stomach up in knots. But not for any reason other than the fact that he’d always know how to handle you..making you act accordingly whether you wanted to or not.

“Please, can I come?! Please, ‘Min..” and because you groveled so sweetly, he had no choice but to grant your wish. Clutching your shoulder blade, Armin doubled down on his fast pace, hammering into you until you drenched him in that shower of your sweet cum; bringing you to a squirting orgasm with only his two fingers. “That’s right, baby. Let it out..my pretty little slut, squirting all over this chair..fuck yes.” Listening to you cry out in pure ecstasy as you came. “Fuck! Fuck!..” This man was not to be messed with but it was a lesson you’d soon learn. Instilled and implanted in your head until you knew better not to pull this stunt again. It wasn’t until you came to did you see the aftermath but this was just a mere taste of what he had in store. Removing them from inside of your tightness to your tongue, where he had you sucking them clean. That look in your eyes was one of neediness. As if you were longing for far more after that. Whilst you were busy tasting yourself, Armin was getting ready to have his fair share of fun. Tugging down those sweats to reveal his erection, immediately stroking it in his palm. “I wanna fuck you so bad..make you nut all over this dick..” his voice cracking and going high pitched as you watched that precum leak from his tip. Swollen and beaming red, you knew he needed to feel you immediately..and with that warm, dripping little hole all stretched out for him, it was the perfect place. Taking his thumb and pointer, Armin would part those plump lips and suck his teeth. “..that fat little pussy..she’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Let me in it…just like that.” Talking you through as he penetrated that warmth. One thing your man could always agree on was how good that pussy was. No matter how mad you made him, he was going to forgive you the second he could fuck you. And just for troubling him tonight, he was going to need more of those waterworks.

“Mmmm..give me that dick. I wanna feel you so deep up in it..” he wasn’t much for letting you make demands right now but with the way you felt suctioned around his shaft, he’d give you the whole world if you asked for it. “Look at how good you take me, angel…creaming on it. Goddamn, I love you..” having to laugh off his own weakness to your mix. You’d both watch as it slid in, disappearing with each aching inch being shoved into your walls. But it wasn’t until he’d start to move did he regain a semblance of control. Squelching noises arising with each slow push..smacking skin filling the room along with those shuddered whimpers from Armin and (y/n). At that point, you were only fitting him halfway; the curvature of his cock hooked inside of you and trying to hit your g-spot. He knew all the pressure points and ways to make you tick. To have you climbing these walls and crying out for him all night. With your legs occupying the arms of the chairs, you’d toss your hands to the back of it, clawing into the headrest as he fed you those deep strokes and his palm returned to your throat to keep you focused on him.. “That’s it..look at me. Look me in the eyes when you take this dick. I know it feels so good, doesn’t it, sweetheart? You’re my baby but you like it when I fuck you like my little whore, right?” And it was then that you were starting to cave! Melting in his grasp as he mixed up those insides. After fitting only four or so inches, enough to get you stirred up, he’d push in a couple more until he was nearly buried at the hilt. Those heavy balls slapping against your ass.. “I love it, I love it so fucking much! Thank you..” knowing that he had broken you down and got into your head now. All of that instilled in your empty little brain that when he asked you to do something, you’d listen. Of course, you weren’t the only caving and cracking under the powerful sensation. “Mmm! You’re fucking me so good, daddy..keep going, right there..!” whining so helplessly as you remained impaled on his dick. Only mere minutes away from releasing yet again. He didn’t care how many times you came. If you flooded the floor, the chair or anything in your vicinity, you were going to make a mess for him and do so until he felt like stopping. Pinning you to that seat with all his force, Armin fucked up into you relentlessly, with no intention to slow down. Those beautiful tits bouncing with each stroke. Not even when he accidentally coaxed out more of that liquid; this time spraying his chiseled abs in the process. Something about that sight drove him crazy. “Oh my God…you’re squirting. You’re doing so good for me!..stay just like that, don’t move..” he’d prompt you to maintain that pose, thrusting a little faster until he nearly knocked you back into your desk. Meanwhile, the static feed from your headphones could be heard out of earshot. Mumbling from your friends; speculating of what they were hearing at the moment were you and your man in the midst of a rough fuck session. And they’d be correct. They had been on the receiving end of your moans and cries, cursing back at each other in lust filled fury. The two of you would continue on for at least another ten minutes or so. Exchanging orgasms and expletives until either of you could muster up another drop. Ending with him spilling his seed all inside of that fertile womb. But by the end of it all, he'd fulfilled his mission well enough. Your eyes were damn near shut and you were hardly coherent.

“Aww..tired, angel?” Knowing he wouldn’t elicit a real response, he’d just laugh as you nodded your head. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up..” getting himself together so that he could hoist you in his arms and carry you to the bed. It was there where he’d lay you down carefully and go retrieve a warm washcloth; wiping over your sore body and changing you into something warmer and less drenched. All the while, you were fading further into slumber. It didn’t take him long to get you situated but once he did, he’d cover you with a warm blanket, too your forehead with a loving kiss and whisper into your ear;

“…goodnight, angel.”

knowing you’d gladly let him put you to sleep if he did it like this.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 7 months

Text

rafe being an aggressive lover headcanons <3

words: 800

warnings: mentions of violence, rafe being controlling a bit lol

“i love you so much, baby. i would kill everyone on this fucking island for you.” you know he’s serious, but you can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you. rafe pouts, hands tightening on your hips. he goes to duck his head in slight embarrassment, but you stop him, “i love you too baby.” you kiss him. “while i don’t want you to kill anyone, i will definitely keep that in mind if someone is pissing me off.”

“if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to go.” rafe says, admiring your dress as you smooth it out in the mirror for the hundredth time, nervous about dinner with your parents tonight. they’ve never been the biggest fans of rafe, but what upsets you more is how overly critical your dad is of you. he never gives you a break, and rafe knows how his words cut like a knife. “if he starts that shit again, i will deck him in the fucking face.” you roll your eyes, but know rafe absolutely would do that for you.

rafe has been at your back all day, arms around your waist or hands on your hips. it’s cleaning day at the house, and you find it really satisfying to move room to room, organizing and sanitizing, but it’s a bit hard when you have a lovesick rafe following you around. “baby, ow.” you wince in pain as he squeezes you too tightly. rafe backs away quickly. “i’m sorry.” you turn around and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “it’s okay, handsome. just too tight.” you peck his lips. “i know, sorry, just wanna squeeze you until you pop.”

“you’re never allowed to leave me.” rafe says seriously. you roll your eyes as you swipe on your lipgloss. “honey, i’m not leaving, i’m literally just getting dinner with the girls.” rafe pouts as you grab your purse. “you’re going to be gone for hours.” rafe whines. “you’re not going.” you turn to rafe, placing your hands on your hips. “excuse me?” rafe shakes his head, holding firm, “you’re not going.” “i’m going.” you head for the door, but rafe grabs your hand. you interrupt him before he can speak, “and you’re coming too.” rafe gives you a puzzled glance. “i already told the girls that you’d be joining me.”

“call me every hour.” rafe says, kissing you again, moving slightly closer to the door. “rafey, aren’t you gonna be in meetings and stuff?” you ask. rafe has been putting off an important business trip for weeks, and it can’t wait any longer. he really wanted you to come with him, but you insisted you were fine to stay at your house, you’re an adult after all and it’s only three days. “doesn’t matter. let me know whenever you’re leaving the house, i’ll be watching the cameras.” rafe had cameras put up in all of the common spaces, coincidentally a couple of days before he left. “i will call you.” you nod. “annie is coming over tomorrow evening, and i will probably go to the grocery store when you’re on your flight back so i can make you dinner.” rafe kisses you, pauses to open the door, and kisses you again. you’re glad you convinced him to leave an hour early, knowing that rafe actually leaving the house always took forever.

you’re sitting in bed together, having spent the whole sunday just lazing around the house. rafe pulls you onto his lap, pressing your body close to his. his teeth suddenly sink into your bottom lip, making your eyes shoot open. rafe doesn’t let up, gently biting down on your lip, tugging it slightly. you moan against his mouth, letting him know how much you like it.

“chicken?” rafe asks, and you shake your head no, a sour look on your face. “pasta?” another shake of your head. “chips? ice cream? pretzels? baby, you have to eat something. pizza? i’ll order from any restaurant.” “raaaafe.” you stop him, “i’m just not hungry, babe. it’s fine.” rafe runs his hand through his hair, chest puffing up and down, “it’s not fucking fine, honey. you can’t just skip a meal.” rafe pauses, clenching and unclenching his fist. “are you sick? should we go to the doctor?” “not at all honey… why don’t we order in pizza? that sounds good.” rafe can easily tell that you’re lying, but if it’ll get you to eat, he doesn’t care.

“get down!” rafes sudden yell startles you, making you wobble on the ladder. rafe is quick to grab you, literally pulling you off your feet and into his arms. “what do you think you’re doing?” rafe shakes you. “rafe!” you let out a little squeal. rafe sets you down on the couch, pacing the living room, “do you know how easily you could have fallen? whatever you’re doing, next time wait for me to get home and let me do it okay? i can’t have you hurt.” he kneels down in front of you. “you scared me.” you whisper. “sorry, bunny.” he squeezes your knees. “but please, no heights. nothing even a little dangerous. i- i can’t lose you.”

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maeby-cursed · 2 months

Text

TRACK 1: MISDIAL !

Toji never calls.

It’s one of his most peculiar habits, that although he does carry his phone (a cheap flip-phone he hasn’t ever bothered upgrading) everywhere he goes, he never calls, never texts, never cares to take it out of his back pocket. And most importantly, he never picks it up.

Taking this into account, it’s no wonder that when his phone begins to ring at 4.30am on one of his off days, his first thought is to end it all. He spends so little time with it, he hasn’t quite yet figured how to turn off the sound... and now he’s annoyed.

He grabs the item and stares at it, trying to make sense of the number that flashes on the screen, the green light blinding him momentarily.

“Fucking thing,” Toji mutters, trying to press any button that could make the ringing stop. Eventually he gives up and shoves it under his pillow.

It keeps on ringing.

“You’ve gotta be… fucking…” The phone flips open. “What?”

“Toji?”

He freezes, his hand suddenly tightening around the metal as if to try and cage the sound.

It’s you. Your voice whispers his name once again and he’s never woken up this abruptly since Megumi was an infant.

“Uhm hello,” he stutters. Like an idiot.

“Oh God it’s really you! Fuck, I’m sorry, I meant to call my friend and your surnames are so similar I must’ve pressed the wrong number… Fuck, it’s four in the morning! Christ, I’m really really sorry–”

As you ramble he starts to shake his head, mouth agape, until he realizes you can’t see him. You have his number saved. You are on the other side of the line and he can listen to your breathing.

He starts to feel dizzy.

Did you just ask him a question?

“Uhm, it’s okay, uh… I was about to wake up anyway.” Sure. At 5am on a Sunday.

“Were you? Ugh, I feel terrible… Listen, I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I have to hang up and call my friend or she’ll freak out but I will make it up to you, seriously. Please go back to whatever you were doing! I’m sorry. Again.”

And then you’re gone.

The line goes dead and his hand drops to his lap with the phone still hugged inside the palm. He’s going to engrave the thing into his flesh at this point but he can’t mind.

Toji Fushiguro has known you for two years and yet he was unaware that you had his phone number. Did he give it to you? Did you write it down from the records? You called, you called, you called.

It’s been unbearable these past few weeks; he’s been off taking care of a less than legitimate job, which meant being away from his actually legal office job, which meant less time to stare at you as you pick up calls and take notes and greet clients and smile that pretty smile of yours.

Now, your voice reverberates through his spine and he can’t help but imagine your eyes in the back of his mind.

He’s never been a corny person, he’s not a great romancer and contrary to popular belief, he’s not much of a Casanova, but he knows when he’s in love. Toji’s but a man with a shielded heart whose barriers you’ve taken down with a hammer and a laugh.

So he yields. For the first time since he bought it, Toji opens his phone and saves a number under his son’s.

For the first time in twenty years he chooses to pick up a call, to think of what you’ll come up with to make it up to him, to dream of you searching for him with your eyes… just this once.

And, for the first time in a long long time, he falls asleep just fine, with a smirk toying with the corners of his lips and some hope with the strings of his heart.

#🎐 𓂃 mae’s typing !#and you guys will be like ! 'mae what is this ?' and i'll be like ! 'fuck if i know !'#seriously this is just really random ideas i get and am too tired to elaborate but... yeah #toji fushiguro is a grandpa and i adore him down to his very bones #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #toji x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Give In

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: suicidal thoughts, pining possibly one sided, ANGST (just a large angst piece, i wanted some joel angst so I made it), description of depression, emotional dependency on a person, arguing, fluff sprinkled in, implied age gap not specified, reference to pregnancy, mentions of substance and alcohol abuse, joel is lowkey toxic and uses reader

a/n hi loves I wrote this after the first episode aired, so if anything contradicts anything in the future in this story that is why. also, i didnt know how to end it so im sorry if the ending is a bit choppy. happy last of us sunday!

summary Y/N has feelings for Joel that she can’t control anymore

Part 2 here

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 8 min 33 seconds

The harsh chill of the autumn afternoon swept your hair off your shoulders. The ration line was as long as ever, but seemed to be moving quickly. A stray dog barked as others murmured on the street. Staring down at your boots, you bit at your chapped lips.

“You’ve been avoiding me,”

His voice sent chills up your spine. He was behind you, must have slipped in line without the other person noticing. Of course now was the time he decided to confront you. And he wasn’t wrong.

Straightening your back, you turn towards him.

“Have I?” you asked, raising your eyebrows slightly. The line moved forward and so did you.

“Tess said you weren’t feeling well.”

She was partially right. It was the blatant lie you were telling the very few who were close to you. You were physically fine.

“I’m fine, Joel.” you said promptly, turning a cold shoulder to the older man.

“If you need any meds or anything…” he began. You knew Joel had anything you needed. Quite literally.

“Next!” The FEDRA soldier called, motioning for you to get in the final line. You gave Joel a tight lipped smile before disappearing in the crowd.

Back at your sad excuse for an apartment, you poked your fork at your stale meal. You tried to think about todays’s job but the thought of Joel Miller consumed you.

How his hands felt on your skin, how soft his hair could be, how much he respected you in private. Flashbacks of previous nights where he had snuck over and stayed with you burned in your brain.

You never thought the hookup would turn in to feelings. Especially in this world. Feelings you were sure he wouldn’t reciprocate. Joel wasn’t a very emotionally available man. And he had Tess- rumors of them being together had been going on for years. Sure, they deny it. But you see the way he looks at her sometimes. His eyes burn with the lust you want from him, but there staring at her.

Tess was friendly and all, you got along quite well with her in fact. Jobs worked with Tess usually went better than others. But the knowledge that she goes home to him every night almost ate you alive. You felt used every time you would watch her turn the alleyway to their apartment.

Roommates my ass.

It had been over a month since the last time you saw Joel.

He was right, you were avoiding him. Taking the jobs you knew he wouldn’t dare go by such as childcare. Taking a different route home to avoid any run ins. Leaving your lights off and sitting in the dark to possibly deter him away from your place. All your little queues worked.

And the pain grew day by day.

You layed in your mattress with your face buried in your pillow. It stopped smelling like him weeks ago, but you liked to pretend it still did.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

Pills weren’t numbing enough. Alcohol wasn’t as fun as it used to be. The constant state of depression in this damned district was enough to make you want to end it.

But seeing him across the alleyway talking to a group of people or in the line for rations was enough to keep that tiny spark lit inside of you.

There wasn’t much else to look forward to in this world besides others. Living the same day your whole life is miserable without your spark of joy in it.

Sleep was close, you could feel it. Your thin blankets were just cutting it for the night. As the dreams began to dance in your head, you were awoken by a quiet knock on your door.

“For fucks sake,” you groaned, flipping over in bed. You ignored the knocks. They became more persistent.

The old doorknob then dropped to the floor, startling you awake. You didn’t even have to guess who it was. The door slowly creaked open as you heard him curse to himself.

“I’ll fix it later,” he sighed, picking it off your floor and placing it on your countertop. He pushed one of your folding chairs next to your table up against the door to keep it sturdy.

“So your just breaking into apartments now?” you snapped, sitting up right in bed. “I needed to see you.” he protested.

“I never knew Joel Miller to need anything.”

He sighed and rested against your countertop. “I need to know,”

“Know what?” you asked, wrapping a blanket around your exposed shoulders. A tank top wasn’t ideal to sleep in, in these conditions.

“What’s wrong.” he said bluntly. “I said there’s nothing wrong. What the hell are you doing walking around freely at night?” you yelled, realizing the time was way past midnight. The sounds of soldiers a few floors down outside your apartment began to yell. How did he move past them?

“You sick?” he asked in a more hushed tone, walking towards you. “Respiratory? Head pain? Joints? You pregnant?” he somewhat joked, looking over you in bed.

“Shut up.” you said coldly. “Can you please just go?”

You knew Joel wasn’t a good listener. “What is it?” he said sternly, sitting down next to your body in bed. He grabbed your wrist ever so slightly. Your pulse was shaking in his grasp.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You looked at the other side of your apartment, out the window. Rain had began to slowly plague the window. Ignoring Joel’s touch, you watched as the few drops raced to the bottom of the window.

“After everything I’ve done for you?” Joel sighed, not letting go of you.

“Stop, please. J-just stop talking to me.” you said, lying through your teeth. He could sense the pain hiding behind those eyes. “I’m not leaving.” he protested.

“Look at me.”

You turned to face him. His eyes were locked on yours. A genuine worried look was on his face. He looked softer, nothing like you had ever seen before.

It was almost as if someone asked you if you were okay when you were very obviously not. Silent tears rolled down your face as you tried to catch your breathe.

The man who you couldn’t love was staring in to your soul. There was no way you ever could love him. He was too mean, too stern, too old, too angry for you. The two of you were polar opposites. But as the saying goes, ‘opposites attract’.

Joel was unsure on what to do. Tess never cried. Hell, you never cried. He racked his brain for something, just something to soothe you.

He offered out a hand. Against your better judgement you took it. Connecting his other hand to your cheek, he tried to wipe away the streak of tears silently leaving your eyes. He held you tightly in your bed, stroking your hair as your head quickly made contact with the crook of his neck.

“I wish I didn’t have these feelings,” you cried into his embrace. Joel was confused on what you were getting at, but he ignored it. He tried to shush you in a soothing way.

“No, please. I wish I didn’t have these feelings… but I do.”

Joel froze. “What?” he asked, holding you in place.

You pulled back and looked at him. It felt like the first time over again. “Look at me and tell me you don’t feel a thing.” you hiccupped.

“I…” Joel sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and letting a breathe of air go.

“Say it.” you demanded.

The silence in the room was deafening.

“I can’t.” Joel said quickly. He looked down at his knees on your mattress.

“I think you should go.” you sighed, laying back on your side and facing the opposite wall.

He listened. Finally, Joel caught a hint. The sound of him walking away made you long for him more than ever. But it was good. The feeling of him leaving, knowing you were right. Joel Miller wasn’t a man who could love. At least not anymore.

Your sudden pride stopped when you heard his boots thud against the floor. Then the all familiar zip of his jeans followed by the hit of him placing them on your wooden chair next to your bed.

He rested a hand on your thigh as he peeled up the blanket that was stuck to your legs. Slowly, he moved down next to you in the tiny space you were leaving him.

“You don’t listen.” you huffed, still not giving him enough space on the bed.

“When do I ever?” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Fuck it. You gave in.

You allowed his arm to move closer to the underside of your breasts. Scooting over in bed, you gave him more space for his legs to entwine with you. His boxer’s material rubbed against the back of your thigh. It smelt like him; Wet grass and expired generic soap scent had never smelt better.

Sleep kindly greeted you once you felt his breathing slow. Trying to match his, you fell into the deep sleep you had been yearning for, for what seemed like weeks.

The absence in the morning was startling.

You struggled to move, hoping that the previous night was just a horrifying dream. A sigh escaped from your lips when you saw his boots sitting against the wall where he placed them last night.

The clanking sound of tools made you turn. On the other side of your small studio apartment, there he sat at your doorframe attempting to fix your door handle.

The overcast sky stayed, but you could tell it was early morning by the chatter outside.

“Shit!” Joel hissed, grabbing his finger in pain. “Damn fucking…”

He looked up and noticed you watching him.

“You alright?” you asked, watching him in amusement as he attempted to fix your door.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, sucking the tip of his finger. “Haven’t fixed a door in a good twenty years.” he muttered, wiping off the excess blood on his already dirtied jeans.

“Go back to bed, It’s still early.” he suggested, going through the tiny tool kit he had given you as a previous gift.

“This is more entertaining than sleep,” you chuckled, placing your feet on the cold ground and getting out of bed. “You want any breakfast? I don’t know if I have anything good here but…”

“Nah. Tess’l be expecting me.”

The sheer thought of Tess waiting at their home for him was enough to ruin the whole night you had before.

Joel looked up to you after your lack of a response. He noticed the demeanor change in your face. “Everything okay?” he asked, turning back to the doorknob he was almost finished fixing.

“You seem to go sour every time I mention Tess.”

“I wonder why,” you muttered under your breathe, attempting to open a tuna can for breakfast. You tried not to dry heave as the scent of the old fish met your nose. Tuna was never a favorite meal, especially for breakfast. But, it’s all you had.

Joel pretended like he didn’t hear you, but he heard you loud and clear. “We have a run to do today. You understand that, right?”

A bitter ‘mhm’ came from your lips as you shook the prepackaged coffee in your hand before ripping off the seal.

Joel sighed and placed the screw driver down dramatically. Joel’s knees cracked as he got up from his position. “You always gotta fucking act jealous. Don’t you? Ruinin’ a nice morning.”

“Jealous?” you said, raising your voice.

“What the hell do you even want from me?” you scorned, on the brink of tears. He could see through you like glass. You hated to admit it, but he knew you like the back of his hand.

Joel wished he could shout out the answer, but his ego kept it in.

You froze with your back turned to him and set down the brittle coffee mug. “Your always leaving me to go to her…”

“Because we’re business partners, Y/N. Don’t you get it? Don’t you hate livin’ the same damn day over and over again? It’s why I come to see you.”

“Stop,” you whispered, now face to face with him. “Stop yelling. Please, it’s too fucking early to get into that shit.”

“Really? Tell me you don’t loose your mind living the same day, same drama for years!” he yelled. “Always you being jealous. Don’t you ever get sick of it?”

Anger consumed you. Proof that the two of you would never work. He’s just a bitter old man.

“You know I would give anything to leave this damn QZ! To live a normal life, not fucking be here.” you yelled, with a finger now pointed at his face. You were avoiding the original accusation. Jealousy.

“Tell me.” you said, with a quieter but angrier tone. “Am I really just your fuck toy?”

Joel stepped back for a moment, stunned at what you just said. Guilt seemed to wrack his nerves as the realization hit him.

You were in love with him.

“Is that what you think?” he asked, approaching you with a sorrowful more soft look. “What else am I supposed to think? You come here, use me, and leave and go back to her.”

The feeling of letting go of all that emotion felt healing. The sudden aftermath of realizing what you just had accused him of made you feel somewhat guilty.

“No,” he sighed, grabbing your hand. “That- no. Absolutely not Y/N.”

His other hand reached for your chin, and brought your face up to his gaze. You could feel his heat on your skin.

“Understand…” he began to say. “Understand what?” you whispered back. A sly smile came to his lips.

“Give in,” he whispered, dropping your hand and wrapping his around your waist.

You melted into his grasp as he kissed you. Joel hadn’t kissed anyone in years. The hesitation from him only brought out the dominance in you.

As the two of you mutually pulled away, you wanted nothing more as to be back where you were just seconds ago.

“Understand that it’s hard.” he said, still holding you close. “I…”

“I know.” you said, cutting off his words.

You were an anxious, sorrowful over-thinker and he was the bitter, closed off introvert.

“I’ll be back,” he said, with a slighter more chipper tone. “Tonight. We have to get this damn car battery and…”

“Stay safe,”

“I promise.” Joel said. He really did not want to leave you. The thought of the two of you spending today lazily in bed was very tempting.

“But please believe me Y/N when I say, you are and never have been just a ‘fuck toy’.”

He squeezed your hand once more and then dropped it. Silence filled the apartment after he left.

The thought of how you tasted haunted Joel Miller’s mind the whole day.

Part 2

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25

#peterparkersnose #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller headcanon #joel miller one shot #peterparkersnosework

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annabelinlove · 2 months

Text

No Games (pt.2)

Pairing: Wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Reader)

Summary: The aftermath of the attack

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, past description on violence, non sexual nudity, language, English isn’t my first language, no use of Y/n, Peter doesn’t exist

Readers note: You wanted part 2, so here it is! I’m sorry for the rushed ending but i have another thing planned and i really wanted to post this on. Lmk if you like it. Read part 1, if you haven’t already and checkout my masterlist. Every kind word is appreciated. Enjoy!

Pt. 1

Masterlist

You’ve spent the whole week at the infirmary and not even for a second were you alone. You had no idea how they did it, but your friends and boyfriends kept your company even thought you were sure they had classes they ought to attend. Whenever you tried to bring it up, they just shushed you and told you it was dealt with. You didn’t know what that was supposed to mean and weren’t even sure if it really was dealt with, but you were glad for the company so you decided to let it go. Regulus himself sent you a card telling you he hoped you’ll recover soon but you were yet to talk to him. You brought it up carefully when you were alone with Sirius, you knew his family was a sensitive topic for him.

“Have you talked to Regulus?” You asked, looking at your beautiful boyfriend who was working on his Herbology essay, his legs on your bed. He looked up from his work and smiled gently.

“Yeah, we met yesterday at the Tower, talked the whole night. That reminds me, he wishes you the best but said he’ll talk to you when you’re out of here, if you’re still up for it.”

He didn’t tell you the details of their conversation, but the small smile present on fis handsome face told you everything you needed to know, so you didn’t bring it up again. You’ve received many get well soon cards, some of them from students you didn’t even know at it warmed your heart. Even Marlene and Mary came to visit you. The whole day you spent with your friends and Madam Pomfrey and at the night, you always shared the bed with your boyfriends, who left in the morning to go to classes but still came back after few hours and this cycle repeated itself for the whole time you were in the hospital wing. It made you forget about the main reason you were even here and considering all odds, you were quite happy in your bubble. When Sunday came, Poppy told you that you were free to go but take it easy, which meant no quidditch and pranks, and to come back Monday evening for her to check you up again. Most of your wounds were healed and the bruises were barely visible, but still, some of them took longer to heal. One wound in particular, the one on your side, was pretty nasty and sometimes still bled a bit. It was sure to say you were glad to finally leave the infirmary.

“You’re ready, pet?” Asked Sirius as he took your bad, with all the cards and sweets that people sent you in his hands, and watched Remus, who was tying up your shoes. You told him you were perfectly fine to do it yourself, but he just waved his hand and kneeled in front of you. Why would you when I can? was his only response.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You smiled at him and hopped off the bed, taking Remus’s hand as all three of you left the hospital wing. But as soon as you walked down the corridor to your common room, the reality hit you and you stopped to take a deep breath. What if it happens again? What if they pick on someone else? What would happen if Regulus hadn’t come? I’d probably die. The boys must have noticed your sudden panic and stopped as well. Siris stood in front of you and put his hands on your cheeks to make you look up at him. His gaze was soft and full of love.

“I know it’s scary right now, but nothing like that is ever gonna happen again, do you trust me? Do you trust us to protect you?” He asked softly, not breaking eye contact so you knew he was serious. Remus squeezed your hand, to reassure you in your own way. Your timid nod didn’t seem to please them.

“Words, angel. Do you trust us to protect you?” Remus prodded and your eyes shifted to his honey ones.

“I do, with my life.” You responded verbally now, which seemed to please them, as you all continued walking to the portrait, one boy at either of your side. Once in the common room, all of your friends were already there a big barel welcome back hung from the chandelier and you genuinely smiled as they all gave you a big and long hug.

“Now, now, don’t smother our girl.” Remus protectively pulled you to sit on his lap as he sat on the couch and buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. “She must be used to it, dating the two of you.” James stuck his tongue out at him playfully and they started to bicker. You felt like you were finally home. With your friends all around you, in the middle of the loves of your life, both of them touching you at all times, you were happy. This is where I belong, you thought. The rest of the day was spent talking, laughing and playing wizarding chess or exploding snap.

“Alright, its time for dinner kids, lets go.” Lily decided, standing up and ordering everybody around like the mum of the group. Your whole body seemed to freeze at that. The thought of leaving you little bubble of happiness to go to the Great Hall was more then unsettling for you.

“Go without us, we’ll just hang in here. Would you mind bringing us something?” Remus spoke up, obviously noticing your sudden anxious state. You both loved and hated how they could read you and knew you like the back of their hands. Nothing would get past them. James nodded before running after Marlene, probably to discuss the upcoming quidditch match. Lily sent you an understanding smile before waving at you and leaving the common room.

“Thanks, I’m just not ready to face them, yet.” You uttered, feeling embarrassed.

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to us. Anything to make you feel the most comfortable, always.” Sirius was quick to argue and attacked your face with small, wet kisses. You laughed as you tried to get away from him. However, during your wiggling around, you accidentally pushed on your sore side and a sharp pain ran through your body. You let out a groan and the boy stopped quickly and distanced himself from you.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m so sorry if I hurt you, darling.” He was quick to speak, looking you up and down to spot any wound reopening and bleeding. You placed your hand on his cheek and smiled.

“It’s okay, just my stupid side. You didn’t do anything, I must have moved wrong or something. It’s fine.” You tried to assure him, but he still looked worried. Remus decided to step in and stood up, holding his hand out for you to take.

“Why don’t we go back to our dorm, hm? You could take a warm bath and relax as we wait for James to bring us something to eat. Then we can cuddle, how does that sound, my loves?” The idea of hot bath has already calmed you and you were quick to take his hand and get up. “Sounds like heaven.” You gave him a kiss and you all went to your dorm.

Well, it was their dorm, but you spent all of your time there anyway. You had your things there and to be honest, you couldn’t remember the last time you slept with the girls in your own dorm. James didn’t mind and claimed he was happy to have someone who’d help him deal with the two idiots. Once inside, Remus drew you a warm bath and even added some bubbles for you. It was nothing like the prefect bathroom, where you sometimes sneaked in with you boyfriends, but at that moment, it was perfect. You slowly undressed, with Sirius helping you, and softly kissing every new scar and unhealed bruise. You daren’t look into the mirror, terrified what you’d see, but right then and there, you felt loved, bare in front of your boys who stared at you with nothing but love in their eyes. Sirius helped you into the bathtub and you let out a content sigh when you sank into the hot water. Remus kissed your forehead and took Sirius’s hand, as they went to leave you alone.

“Stay.” You whispered, giving them your best puppy eyes, that Sirius taught you. Without another word, they both sat next to your bathtub, and you were finally able to relax, feeling every single muscle loosening after what felt like ages. You were all silent as Remus laid his hands on the edge of the tub and rested his hands on top of them, Sirius resting his head on his shoulder. You had no idea how much time has passed, all of you just enjoying the quiet time together, but it was interrupted by James, who poked his head inside the bathroom.

“Y’all good?” At the disturbance, Sirius quickly threw a bottle of shampoo on his head.

“Oi! Get out and stop ogling my naked girlfriend!” He shouted at his friend who put up his hands in surrender. James couldn’t have seen anything, as you were covered in bubbles but your boyfriend’s protectiveness mage you laugh a little.

“It ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.” He joked before quickly shutting the door as Sirius got up with the intention to punch him. You laughed at that, remembering the few times when you walked out of the bathroom naked, thinking you were alone in the dorm, with James sitting on his bed or him walking into the bathroom when you were showering. Not to mention that all of your friends went skinny dipping into the Black Lake.

“I’m kidding, sorry! Just wanted to know if you’re okay since you’ve been silent for the whole 20 minutes I’ve been here.” He said behind the closed door. At that, Remus put his hand into the bath which has gotten cold already. “Alright, let’s get you out, the water is freezing and you need to eat something.”

Sirius washed your hair as Remus went to get some clothes for you as well as a new bandage and some ointment. After drying you up, he carefully rubbed in on the wounds and bruises as well as some pink scars. You mustered up the courage to look at yourself in the mirror and sucked in a breath. You looked much worse than you thought. Even after almost a full week of being at the infirmary, unhealed scratches could be seen all over your body, numerous of bruises and scars, some bigger then other, keeping them company. Your cheeks were hollowed, and you had dark circles under your eyes. You also looked thinner. Sirius quickly stepped in front of you when he saw the disgusted look you gave yourself in the mirror.

“Hey,” he said as he put some hair behind your ear, “you’re beautiful.”

The smile you gave him was genuine and you stopped thinking about it as he kissed you passionately. They dressed you in some sweatpants and shirt, none of which were yours. When you emerged from the bathroom, you realized that James has already prepared the food on Sirius’s bed, which was the biggest of them all, thanks to a single spell, since the three of you slept on it every single night. You settled comfortably on the bed, under the covers with the boys around you and contently started eating.

“Thank you, Jamie.” You thanked him with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were, but it was really no surprise since Poppy fed you mostly soups from various of herbs to help you heal.

“Anytime, sunshine.” He winked at you and started a calm conversation. Mostly between the boys, since you were too busy eating. After dinner, Sirius sat behind you and without a word started to braid your still wet hair. It was your routine, doing each others hair, sometimes Remus’ as well, if he had them long enough. When he was done, you all bid good night to James and laid on the bed.

“Would you read to us Moony?” Sirius asked sweetly, pulling you closer, careful not to hurt you in any way. Remus pulled out his book, The Lord of the Rings, and his calm voice filled the silence. You nuzzled yourself closer to him and quickly fell asleep, his voice fading away in the background.

You were running away from someone, you didn’t know who, but knew they were dangerous. You were in some dark place, when someone pushed you to the ground.

“This is what you fucking deserve, filthy bitch!” The unknown person spat at you as he hit you, pain erupting immediately all over your face. You were suddenly on the floor and someone was kicking you over and over again. Your hands tied so you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself. You screamed for help but an evil laugh was the only thing heard. “Shh, we’re just playing.” And another blow, now into your head. You felt like you were under water and running out of air, not being able to breathe.

“Hey, hey, wake up. It’s okay.”

Unknown hands shook you, but you saw only silhouettes, and green flashes of lights. Suddenly, you had a wand at your neck. You tried to pull away, but couldn’t. The wand suddenly slashed your throat.

“C’mon, wake up darling.”

You sat up quickly in your bed, gasping for breath as your hands flew to your throat. You’re safe, your in your dorm with your boys. It was only a dream. You were shaking like a leaf, only now just realizing that someone was talking to you.

“Breath for me, angel. It’s okay, we’re here. You’re here, you’re in our dorm, with me and Moony, you’re safe. Just keep on breathing for me, please.” You concentrated on Sirius’ words, slowly calming your breath.

“I’m gonna touch you, is that okay, my darling?” Remus said in his soft tone, you weren’t able to speak so you tried to nod, but it wasn’t enough for the boys.

“Please, use your words. I know it’s hard, but try, pet.” You croaked a yes, which seemed to satisfy him and he gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle, yet firm embrace. Sirius handed you a glass of water you didn’t even see him get it. You gulped the water like your life depended on it.

“It was just a bad dream, my love. You’re okay.” You were able to calm down, but was still shaking lightly in Remus’ arms.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He whispered as he kept on rubbing small circles on your back. You took a deep breath, trying to remember the dream but it was all hazy.

“I-I was in some dark room or something and someone kept on hurting me. And then-then..” you were interrupted by your own sobs but tried to pull it together to finish “then a wand slashed my throat and I couldn’t breathe.” You cried into his shoulder. Sirius took your hand in is and placed it where your heart is.

“Do you feel that?” He patiently waited for you to nod before continuing, “that’s your heart and it’s beating. It means you’re alive and breathing, my love. It was just a nightmare. Take a deep breath, because you can, baby. It’s okay.”

You felt your heartbeat and started to slow down your breathing, the shaking stopped as did the tears. You pulled out of Remus’ hug and looked at them sheepishly.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.” You just now noticed the darkness of the room and heard James’ loud snores. You swore he would sleep through an earthquake.

“You have nothing to apologize for, angel. We knew the nightmares would come sooner or later.” Remus soothed your worry but his words confused you and you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“Well, at the infirmary, Poppy gave you a sleeping draught every night so you could sleep peacefully, but you didn’t take any tonight. I was just kinda counting on it. It makes sense after what happened.” You froze at his words, you didn’t even think about that.

“Oh, I’ll go and get it tomorrow then.” You sighed, fatigued overtaking of your body.

“No, pet. I know its hard and the nightmares are terrible. Trust me, I know, but you can’t take it for such a long time, it could really mess you up.” Sirius looked at you apologetic, feeling bad for crushing your vision for peaceful sleep.

Your whole face fell down and you looked close to tears again. “But I don’t wanna have a nightmare every night.” You uttered, looking at your hands, picking at your nails.

“And you won’t! Me and Pads will do everything in our power to help you with them, just not through medications, okay?” Remus was quick to reassure you, taking your hand in his so you would stop picking at your nails before they started to bleed. You were too tired to fight with them, so you sighed a small yes and let them lay you on the bed again, squeezed in between them.

“Moony’s gonna read to us again, until you fall asleep, okay?” Sirius said and kissed your nose, but you were quick to protest. “No, I don’t want to keep you up for no reason, you shouldn’t stay away just because I can’t sleep.”

Remus gave you almost a bored look but still looked at you lovingly. “Hey, none of that, darling. Anything to help you. Plus, I ended at quite an interesting chapter, so I’m curious what’s gonna happen next.” And with that, he picked up the book and started to read, just like few hours ago. And just like few hours ago, you feel asleep.

The next time you woke up, it was by Sirius who was leaving wet kisses all over your face. “Wakey, wakey. We need to get ready for classes.” He whispered but still continued to kiss your face. It was Remus, who ushered both of you to the bathroom to clean up (and redress your wounds, of course) and soon enough, you were on your way to the Great Hall for breakfast with your friends.

Everybody was chatting with you the whole time, to help you ease your nervousness, and you were immensely grateful for them all. You stopped in front of the huge door to the Hall, but before you could start to think too much about things, Remus took your hand and Sirius screamed your name to gain your attention.

“Look, look! This is how to make someone your peasant.” And before you, or anyone really, processed his words, he jumped on James’ back, held tight with one hand, the other high in the air as he started screaming loudly. “Go, my slave. Take me to my fine breakfast and DO NOT DROP ME!”

James wasn’t even complaining, pretty used to his theatrics and he ran straight to their places, making a huge scene with Sirius. All of them laughed at their silliness and before you knew it, you were sat at the table, with your back to the Slytherins, and started to eat. All of your friends were distracting you with jokes and you were smiling the whole time. Sirius was still ordering James around and he did everything the long haired boy asked.

“Pass me the juice.”

“Of course, my lord. Is there anything else I could aide you with? Your wish is my command.”

After breakfast, Remus took your backpack and you walked hand in hand to your class. Sirius was, of course, riding on James’ back to the class.You were thankful that you shared Charms, your first class, with your boyfriends, as well as Lily. The worst part was, that the Slytherins were taking Charms as well. Sirius got off James’ back before the classroom and looked you deep in the eyes.

“Listen, and listen to me closely, pet. Me and Remmy are gonna be with you the whole time. There’s not gonna be a second when one of us isn’t close to you, okay? It’s gonna be okay, you’ll be fine and we’ll be always by your side.” He reassured you and you smiled at his thoughtfulness to calm you down. You took a deep breath and Remus squeezed your hand in support. You nodded that you were ready and you entered the classroom. You didn’t look around, your gaze set on your desk. Sirius and Remus were on both your sides, squashing you in between them.

Remus still hasn’t let go of your hand as you squeezed it tightly when you felt the hairs on your neck rising. Snape and Mulicber were here. You didn’t dare to move a muscle, your body in a trance, too scared to even breathe. Both of your boys noticed and they tried to talk to you and joked around to make you smile, but you weren’t able to concentrate on them. You didn’t even notice when the class started, nor did you registered that it has finished. You could feel their eyes on you, the whole time. You knew that Snape was staring at the back of your head, his eyes sending daggers your way, but you were too afraid to look back. To look at him, them.

Sirius had to nudge you that the class was over and you had to go to the other one. You felt like you were sleepwalking as they took your things and led you out of the classroom. But you froze in your tracks as you heard the cold laugh behind you. You knew it was Mulciber.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you at school and not the graveyard.” He snickered but before you could do as much as blink, you heard a loud bang from behind you. You turned ground quickly, waiting for some king of danger coming your way, but were met with Sirius pinning him to the wall, his wand at his neck and hand holding his chest so he couldn’t move.

You saw as Snape took out his wand, but Remus casted a quick Expelliarmus and his wand flew out of his hand and his reach. He was stood protectively in front of you, his wand aimed at Snape as Sirius hold Mulciber. You didn’t even know how any of that happened, if was all too quick.

“Say another word to her, I dare you. Let’s see who will be buried six feet under.” Sirius seethed, his voice low and dangerous. You’ve never heard him use this tone.

“You’ve got bodyguards now, heh?” Snivellus snickered at you but not moving an inch. Before any of you could say or do anything, Lily appeared out of thin air and hit him square in the face. Snape fell to the ground, holding his bleeding nose and looking up at her in surprise.

“If you ever come close to her, I will hurt you. And I fucking mean it, Severus. I don’t know what happened to you but it gives you no right to act like an asshole. You are nothing but a fucking scam and dirt. Don’t come close to her or any of us, never again.” She told him, her voice cold and face blank of any emotions. You have never heard Lily use so many swear words in your life, let alone in one sentence.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mulciber trying to get out of Sirius’ gasp and Remus was ready to send some hex his way, but you stopped him as you laid your slightly shaking hand on his shoulder.

“Wait.” You said quietly but strongly. He stopped and looked at you, his wand still aiming at his enemy.

“Don’t be like them. Let them go, karma will get them soon and better then us.” I said loudly, for all of them to hear me. Remus’ gaze softened but his wand still raised high.

You could hear Sirius growl, not moving an inch, so you walked up to him and took his hand with his wand an out it down. He looked unsure, but wasn’t fighting your touch. You looked deep inside Mulciber’s eyes and when he open his mouth to say something, you spat at him. You could hear Lily gasp, but you didn’t care as you turned around and walked away with your head held high.Remus, Lily and Sirius quickly caught up with you, your raven boyfriends taking your waist and spinning you in the air.

“That’s my fucking girl! You shoved them who has the power!” He hollered, and you laughed. When he set you down, both he and Remus hugged you tightly and you felt the weight lifting off your shoulders.

“That was brilliant, my sweet girl. I’m so so proud of you.” Remus beamed with pride, kissing the top of your head. “I could never do it without you. Thank you, for everything.” You squeezed their arms and quickly went to hug Lily as well.

“That must have been hard for you, I know you two used to be close.” You whispered into her ears. She sighed and let you go, looking into your eyes.

“Yeah, used to. Before he turned out to be such a prick. But I won’t hesitate to protect you from him, or anyone else, no matter what.” She gave you a kind and sincere smile and you knew she meant it.

As you walked down the corridor, with Sirius and Remus nonstop praising you, you felt lighter. You knew it wasn’t the end. The wounds were yet to be healed, the physical ones as well as emotional ones, and the war was far from the end, but you knew you could do it.

With your boyfriends and friends by your side, you were unstoppable.

——————-

Tag list: @quackitysdrugdealer @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @oweninadaydream @noodlesareokah @wings-of-tranquility @oweninadaydream @leafpagesingfan

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vilsoo · 4 months

Text

୨⎯ CHAPTER THREE ⎯୧

incubus!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

꒰ ✟ ꒱ GENRE: horror, demon au, nsfw 18+, porn with plot.

꒰ ✟ ꒱ SUMMARY: Sex demons are not as provocative as you think they are. Not only do they engage in sexual acts with humans, they thrive off their flesh and haunt them in their nightmares. When an incubus disguised as a Reverend turns a hungry eye on one of the parishioners, gruesome events at the cathedral slowly unfold; blasphemy, gore, and terror...

꒰ ✟ ꒱ CHAPTER WARNINGS: blasphemy, WC: 3,955

PREVIOUS • MASTERLIST • NEXT CHAPTER

written in toji's pov, narration style similar to the Netflix show, "You." this takes place in a fictional setting; St. Reze University & Cathedral.

The morning air had become thicker than the oldest tomes of the St. Reze Clergy House.

Located in the middle of campus was the residence of the clergy along with an administrative office for the local parish. I was sent here an hour ago, deadpanning at the mahogany wooden desk and thought about everything from last night— the way we met, the brief conversation I had with Shoko… But also that screeching, unsettling noise from the stair tower which slightly concerned me.

"Fushiguro. You listening?"

Father Getou Suguru. One of the priests I'm also close with from the clergy. But aside his occupation as St. Reze’s holy priest, I'd feel comfortable drinking with him at a bar or going out to play billiards. Usually his hair would be down when he wears his vestment and cassock, but this morning it was tied back.

Suguru— I refuse to call him Father outside of the church— stood at the opposite side of the room, skimming an old book as he sips his morning tea. His office had varnished brown bookshelves and the fresh smell of brewing beverages. The sunlight tinted of a dusty orange through the large clerestory window, contrasting to the solemnity of this environment.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry. Go on."

I was too drained to listen to him this morning. I could’ve declined or not even show up to this brief rendezvous, but I didn’t want to dig myself in a deeper hole than I already am. He is, after all, the one that pays me for the shit I do. Even if I’m barely involved with the church and its people. There is no doubt that he knows about my blatant and aloof behavior the way Sister Shoko knows as well.

"Remember the other Reverend that got engaged just eight months ago? Their wedding is at the cathedral next month. Interested in helping us?"

I frowned. "Wait— who's getting married again?"

The priest deadpanned at me. "Our fellow Reverend Nanami Kento. I thought you knew this already.”

Feeling indifferent, I watch as the dark liquid swirled around my mug as I held it. "Oh. I forgot."

The priest sighed in exasperation. "I'll pay you extra if you come by and help."

I paused before I could take a sip once I registered his words, averting my gaze right at him. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Of course you would," he taunted. "Is money always going to be your motivation?"

My elbow was pressed on the table and my cheeks rested in the crest of my palm, slightly smirking at him as my drink clanks on the wood. "You know me, Suguru."

The man slaps the book closed with one hand, sliding it back into the shelves. "We'll talk more about it later with the others. Please do not forget the meeting at the chapter house next week. You have to be there.”

I notice him grabbing a few of his things including his vestment. "Leaving for sermon already?"

“I need to be early. Also, I’m leaving you in charge of the conferences in here today.”

How great.

The ominous priest finally left. I continued drinking absentmindedly for the past ten minutes and dwelled at the campus view outside. It was an early Sunday morning and the sermon was starting soon. Fridays and Saturdays are the only days I work at the cathedral, while on Sundays I'm off. Yet here I am in the clergy house when I could've been doing something more productive.

But I didn't care at all, really. This job, this religion, or the coherent idea of a god... I didn't give a damn about the shit I’m required to do in this new life as long as Father Getou paid me— just as he said he would.

I still thought about last night. What a tantalizing night, I must admit. Meeting you for the first time in such a meek state, utterly surprising me with your sullied confession... But then I recalled the unsettling noise I’ve heard from the stair tower. Though there were no screams heard or the smell of blood when Shoko and I reached the first floor, it was something so inhuman to ever think of.

Speaking of inhuman, there was still one thing you haven't known about me yet. An infernal and sinister creature, able to sense the wanton lust of humans and their coiling fantasies, residing within my soul. One that sneakily lodges into one’s nightmares to fulfill their desires… But what also resides with my soul is real mortal blood— the outcome of a half-breed incubus.

Knock knock knock.

I stared at the door for a hot minute with a blank expression, slouching in my seat. I'm usually this lifeless early in the morning, but thanks to that coffee, I managed to stand up and approach the door. But just as I was about to grab the doorknob, my hand froze when I heard a demure voice resonate from the other side. Not from a figment of my mind, not from the faded hues in my memories… It was really you— the sound of your adorning voice reverberating in the back of my mind. And it's been hours since the last time I've heard it.

"Father Getou? You in there?"

I threw away all my inhibitions and opened the door for you. And that was the first time I saw you, really saw you— not shrouded by darkness or drops of rain. The glazing sunlight cutting from the door onto your face like a scalpel, your bare skin radiating and your attire expressed more casually than what you wore last night to the church.

A small smirk slowly crept on my lips. "Father Getou's not here. Need something from him?"

"Oh," you breathed out, slowly trailing your bashful gaze to meet with mines. "I wasn't…expecting you…”

I press my shoulder against the white doorframe as my hand grips onto the opposite side like I was blocking you from coming in. "Looks like we just keep bumpin' into each other, huh. What a coincidence."

You were perfectly in my field of view, sunkissed from the golden daylight. My eyes cast over the rest of your figure, your chest heaving faster and the muscles of your shoulders tightening. This was an odd coincidence now that I think about it. There must've been an underlying reason of coming all the way out here for a conference with Father Getou. It was too bad for you that he left several minutes ago, but not too bad for me to have some company…

"Anything I can help you with?" I coaxed. “If you’re trying to meet with Father Getou, might as well just head to the church where he’s at.”

I watch as you pressed your lips together in uncertainty, your gaze falling to a random corner of the office then back to me. "You know what? It doesn't really matter who in the clergy I talk to. May I come in?"

Feeling slightly convinced, I push myself off the doorframe and make way for you. In cold calculation, I watch the way you hold your breath once you enter, the way your shoulders tensed like the beating of your heart grew erratically. My first time seeing you this nervous and so shy around me.

"So. What brings you here?"

You were standing near Father Getou's desk as I shut the door, glancing at the bookshelves and the plain ceiling absentmindedly. "I wanted to discuss about something that Father Getou might be familiar about," you respond with a sharp exhale. "But… I guess I was too late. I should’ve made an appointment.”

I make my way around the desk where Getou stood earlier as you sat down coyly. You had a dreary expression as you stared into nothing, as if you were ashamed of whatever you were going to say.

"You can tell him after the Sunday Mass," I assured, leaning against the wall with my hands shoved in my pockets.

"I— I don’t know,” you faltered. “Maybe… I think it's better if I don't tell him…”

"Damn. Must've been that bad, huh," I smirked. "Could've saved this for the confession booth, ya' know."

Just like how you confessed to me last night.

"No, no— it's fine," you faltered, your gaze flickering back to my face. "I’m fine talking about this to anyone from the clergy. You’re a Reverend, right? Maybe we should talk more while we have the chance. Get to know each other.”

Get to know each other, huh.

It was something about your face glinting from the gentle sunlight that nearly captivated me. Maybe early Sunday mornings weren't so bad, after all. But after ruminating over your words and this igniting spark of interest I have with a human, especially a woman like you— a man like me would never go this far to give my considerations…

An incubus is meant to prey on women like you. Obsess over them, violate them, make them feel things no other human could do. But I’m not like these sick and twisted incubi. Not even a full incubus. There would be these ongoing battles of cunning, dark, and sinister thoughts and actions within my conscience. I'd feel tempted to ruin and corrupt people for my own satisfaction. But then I also have my humanity— the respect, boundaries, morals, and all of the shit I also abide by.

You left me with no choice. The cause of my sleeplessness and these constant distractions sitting right before me. Definitely harmless just to know more about a woman like you, right?

"Alright then,” I obliged. “You’re a student at St. Reze, right?"

"I am. Third year, graduating with a bachelor’s next year."

I squinted slightly. "How come I've never seen you before?"

"I was gonna ask you that, too," you chuckled. "But maybe because it was my first time attending on a Saturday."

I nodded slowly, recalling your words from your confessional. "I work on Fridays and Saturdays only. Makes sense."

"Something was just really bothering me. I felt like attending that day, so..."

I ambled closer, standing at the opposite end of the table from you. Half-lidded eyes staring meekly into mines, setting fire in my ribs and wading into my rufous flesh, strumming every fiber in my body like I was trapped in your aura. Ominous and tense anticipation between us, right in this office, right at this moment.

I've never felt something like this before. And you probably haven't, either. This hidden desire for you and your hidden desire for me has never tasted this fine, like a restless hunger teasing my tongue…

"I don’t think I've ever gotten your name. I'm Y/N."

I repeated your name in my mind, a name I for sure wasn’t going to forget. "Toji,” I then replied. “Reverend Toji Fushiguro."

"Reverend Toji,” you mused, as if you were ruminating upon my name as well. “Nice to officially meet you.”

I really tried fighting the urge to bring up your confession. But according to the clergy-penitent privilege that Suguru informed me about, they are to remain strictly confidential. Any member of the clergy that overhears a confession are bound by this “seal.” But with everything I’ve witnessed and collected from last night at church, I wanted to ask the most ludicrous questions. I wanted to know what was going on in that pretty little head of yours. Why you came all the way here to the clergy office, what exactly is bothering you to the point you open up to me. Like cracking open your skull and spooling your brain, finding out all your sinister and dark secrets…

My jaw tightened as apart of me begged to know, staring at the bay window overlooking the courtyard and other facilities of the campus. But I decided to not intervene— who am I to care about a mere human, anyways?

"So. You said something was bothering you?” I piqued, refilling my cup of coffee with the machine. “Is that why you came all the way here?”

If I hadn't been paying attention to every move and every reaction you made in this office, I wouldn't have noticed the way your chest heaved slowly and steadily, like you were forcing yourself to calm down. I watched the way your body reacted. A trail of goosebumps. Slight shivers. Robbed of speech. And the way your eyes subtly began to pool with dismay, powerful as a surging storm taking over you…

“Well, this might sound a little bit, uh… carnal, Reverend Toji,” you muttered sheepishly. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, or— you know, see me as a parishioner in a different way…”

"You don't need to worry about that," I assured with a small smirk. "I'm not like Father Getou who's so professional with everything here— especially with that seminary shit. So don’t think I’m gonna lecture you with scripture.”

You chuckled lightly. “Spoken like a true layman. That’s harsh.”

"Yeah, but it's the truth." The warm liquid rushed down my throat as I drank, absorbed with this sudden rush of energy. "I don't really care about this church nor your god. I'm just working here for money— so you can tell me anything."

You gazed down solely at your lap, absorbed in your own thoughts as if this was too difficult to open up about. Your eyes were unreadable from this distance, but every time you locked my gaze for a few moments, they become so irresistible as they take me in.

"Look, I don't know if I'm ready to say it.”

"Enlighten me." I set another drink of coffee for you on the desk, the loud thud of the mug causing your body to snap. “Whatever you say, I’m not gonna hold against you. You came all the way out here this time in the morning, so don’t let this be a waste of time for the both of us.”

A human like you testing my patience was a risky game to play. But for some reason, I was a bit amused by your timid submission… Your chin tilting upwards as you looked at me in silence as I leaned against the bookshelves. Your skin continued to gleam right in my view, eyes taking me in like you were drinking the very sight of me.

After a fleeting moment of hesitance, you grab the cup and sipped carefully, watching your shoulders tense down from the warmth rushing through your veins. I stared for another long moment, both hands on the table and leaning slightly forward. It was quite entertaining, really, how things lead us to this point.

"Friday night I had a dream," you muttered softly, "I couldn't stop thinking about it, which is why I came to the church on Saturday night, seeking for guidance. But this dream was, well… a strange experience for me.”

The moment you spoke of having a dream I immediately knew. Even after finding out you came to church on a day you don't regularly attend was enough to convince me. Carnal. Nightmares. It all made sense. In the vulnerable depths of an innocent human’s mind, a disturbing creature would be quietly lurking, waiting until all is calm when the darkness shrouds over the daylight skies. This darkness incarnate springs to life as a vicious, fang-bearing, gnarly, feral incubus. Born to linger on the fragile edges of your mental state and drawing you in with its sapphire eyes…

The muscles of my jaw tightened as I clenched my teeth together in cold silence. I've learned and witnessed the vile ways of how dreams go with demons like me, and how the aftermath will always remain dreadful for humans to recount. Terrorized by such unfathomable sexual nightmares and disturbing hypnotic states of scintillating salacious lust, night after night…

“… I was in a dark place. I see some kind of shrine with wide teeth, horns on the roof and many skulls laying around. Then I look up and see this creature— he had four arms and four eyes…”

Your gaze suddenly falls back to me again, this time not directly settled on my face, but I can feel the way you trace my features— sharpened, tensed, deliberately making out every outline of me. I couldn't help but fall speechless, embracing this erratic tension going on from between.

“The things he did to me in that dream, Reverend Toji… It was literally sin. Promiscuous to ever think of, really. I'm really ashamed to say this here, but— for some reason it felt... good. If it's so wrong to think of or do, then why did it feel good?"

I notice the way your voice was honeyed with titillation as you explained, hinting with passion. It amused me— how you found a nightmare so pleasant to you. I suddenly thought of our communion from the night before, how you kneeled before me with a heated look in your eyes— salacious and delirious— indulging in submission just like your nightmare.

I wanted to know what demon snuck in your nightmare. Four eyes? Four arms? A diabolic creature I've never even heard of before. I had to suppress a lot of my thoughts back, trying my best to remain nonchalant.

"A nightmare, huh. It’s not uncommon for students here to confess about this," I prompted. “There’s a whole case study on how it’s affecting them, but you… You said it felt good?”

"I— I did," you mumbled, voice almost shaky. "And I don't know what to do— I feel that my lustful craving has ruined my relationship with God.”

After divulging to me with another abashed confession, I was rather fascinated than concerned. How you took pleasure in a fucking night terror was something I’ve never expected to come from those pretty, saccharine lips of yours. It almost enraged me— how could a human like you entice me like this? I’m supposed to do my job. I’m supposed to follow Suguru’s commands. I’m not supposed to form a relationship with any of the students here. But this was a rippling covet that makes my blood rush with urgency, an urgency to dwell in the sinister parts of me. And I can sense how desperate you feel— that covet you find so sinful, so disgraceful to your god— when in reality it isn't.

"Your desire for lust should never make you feel guilty, Y/N," I coaxed. "After all, didn't your god create us as sexual creatures? It was never deemed a sin; only taught to be one for young women like you."

This time I was speaking my mind. How I really viewed the church that condemns malicious creatures like me. All the years of false and inaccurate teachings, mistranslations, and every concept that never appeals to me. I could go on about it all day, but I suppressed my thoughts back once again.

"I've prayed and prayed that day, Reverend. But yet, I can’t stop dwelling on it. It was a very filthy dream, I admit. But it felt so… intense.”

A nightmare, I mentally corrected. Any dream with an incubus involving sexual and immoral acts are considered nightmares.

I take the opportunity to let my gaze glide over your skin. "I understand how you feel," I feigned, nearly lying to myself that I had to take another sip of my drink. "That covet you find so sinful, so disgraceful to your god— when in reality it isn't. Whoever propagated that purity culture bullshit are the disgraceful ones instead."

Your body fell stiff as the realization hit like a brick to your face, contemplating over my words. "Hm. I think I can see now why you're not so fond of the church,” you bantered, taking another sip of the coffee. “You’re more brutal than Father Geto. He’s there to console and sympathize with his parishioners, but you— You’re very, uh… passive aggressive.”

I scoffed. “That’s harsh.”

“Well, it’s kinda true,” you chuckled. “I mean, we can’t always have our reverends and ministers here console us by just spiritual enlightenment and scripture. It was nice hearing your advice coming from a different perspective. So I thank you, Reverend Toji.”

I agreed. But at the same time, I didn’t care. “Just call me Toji. But just not in front of other people and Father Geto, you know.”

"Speaking of Father Geto…" My heart jolted faster once you shot up from your seat and walked over in front of me, my skin growing hotter as your body drew closer to mines. So close as if you were invading me, but I allowed it— the gap between us growing thin, feeling our body heat fuel and ignite. I was tempted to trace your flesh, uncover the goosebumps lingering on your skin, and take you on right here on this fucking desk…

What the Hell am I thinking? Why am I being invaded with these kind of thoughts?

"… Please don't tell him about our conference and that I met with you," you continued with a low mutter. "It'll be our little secret."

I slanted my head. Our little secret?

Something crept in the grip of my numb hand, hearing the rough folds of paper crumpling. I peer down and notice your fingers gently grazing mines, feeling your warmth and tenderness as you slipped some cash.

"Are you serious?" I whisper. "You know I can't take this."

"No, Toji. It's fine," you beamed. "After lecturing me like that— I really think you are a good man. Doesn't matter who you are or how you view the church."

I clenched the cash in my grip, not realizing how clammy my palms grew. I was already at a loss of words from this strange, erratic feeling in me right now. Slipping money in my hand as you invaded my personal space, breathing in your darling aroma, your irises dancing with the room's fast-changing glow. You then look at my lips. I look at yours. There's a pause.

You slightly inched forward, my entire body falling frozen as you pressed your lips against my cheek. Immediately I was immersed with this sudden softness and sweetness, like laying on a bed made of clouds, plush and impulsive. Warming my bones, melting my center. My heart beat rising, but also trying to soothe.

"’Till next time, Toji," you murmured, your fleeting breath hitting my ear until you turned away and left.

What did you just do to me?

I wouldn’t say your kiss of gratitude on my face was a violation. But though I had no idea where it stemmed from, it felt… pleasant. Perhaps I was somewhat successful playing the role of a Reverend who’s not really in touch with humanity, but tries to just for the sake of understanding people. I just don’t know how to feel from a tender moment that came from nowhere. I was too astonished to register it through my brain— the intimate touch of a human.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. I've studied every line and every form of your figure, the shape of you and the aching in your glinting eyes. How you starve me with those fucking eyes. How I wanted to see all of you right here, right in this office, right on Father Suguru’s desk— gliding across your body with a wicked purpose. There was no way to fight your embrace. I would’ve allowed Suguru to fucking exorsice me for wanting to feed off your forbidden sexual desire. And I was too selfish to let that lame demon in your nightmare feed off it. Not even any man you encounter here could fulfill you the way I plan to.

Only me.

TAGS: @suget @haezen @heavenlyevil @vampnyx @killzenin @diorsbrando @endurablerose @slut-manifesto @screampied

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO/POISEUNS © 2024. originally published April 10, 2021. do not steal, plagiarize, or translate without permission. do not repost or share any of my works where minors have access. art by evok99 on twitter.

#ཐི♰ཋྀ ⋆ 𝐆𝐎𝐃’𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄. ๋࣭ 𖤐 #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #toji smut #reverend toji fushiguro #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fushiguro toji

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 10 months

Text

Alex's First Steps

Alex hits a major milestone!

Warning: None, just Kelce Family fluff!

Travis held Alex’s tiny hands in his as he helped him stand up, the two of them playing on the floor in Bubba’s playroom. “Come on Bud, I need you to walk before I leave tomorrow.” Travis made sure to whisper, knowing you were in ear shot. Alex had started pulling himself up on any chair he came across and was even starting to cruise around the house, and Travis knew that walking was next. Being in the NFL meant that he was away from his family a lot, and while you constantly assured him that the both of you were fine when he was away, he was having a difficult time missing a lot of Alex’s firsts.

The one-year-old gave it his best effort, grunting as he tried to stand on his feet before falling on his behind, letting out a loud giggle. Alex was always tickled whenever he fell; he thought it was the funniest thing.

“Travis, when he’s ready to walk, he will. Don’t push him, please.” You walked into the room, a full laundry basket balancing on your hip.

“I know. I just don’t want him to do it while I’m gone. I already missed his first laugh, the first time he ate solid food. I just don’t want to miss anything else.” You could hear the sadness in your husband’s voice. He loved being a dad, and missing all of his first child’s major milestones crushed him.

“I think he still has a couple of weeks, but I promise that if he does walk, I will video it for you.” You sat down next to your boys, Alex immediately crawling over to you so he could sit in your lap. “Why are you being so hard on yourself about this?”

“I just feel like I’m always having to pick or choose between football and my family, and every time I choose football it feels like the wrong choice.” He raked his hands down his face, frustrated with himself. “Travis that is not fair to you. This is your career, its important, and it’s such a big part of who you are. Sure, you’ve missed some of Alex’s firsts, but you’ve also been there for a lot of them too. The first time he slept through the night, the first time he stood up, when he said his first words.”

“You’re still salty about that, aren’t you?” Travis looked at you, trying to stifle a laugh. You rolled your eyes, allowing Alex to crawl away to one of his toys across the room. “I spend every day with him, and his first word was still ‘Dada’. Of course, I’m still salty about it!”

“I know you’re right, but it doesn’t hurt any less. If you even think that he might start walking, let me know and I’ll fly back here in an instant. This is one thing I am not going to miss.”

“What, baby?” You turned around when you saw Trav’s face light up. His eyes went wide as he watched Alex pull himself up on the rocking chair, turning around to face both of you as he wobbled on his feet. You hurried to pull your phone out, fumbling to open your camera. Just as you were starting to record, Alex fell, clapping his hands together and giggling, so proud that he got your attention. “Okay, now he’s just messing with me.” Travis chuckled as he stood up, sweeping Alex up into his arms.

When Alex left for his away game on Sunday, he texted you what felt like every hour, asking if Alex had taken his first steps yet. As if he knew how badly Travis wanted him to walk, he teased it all weekend, standing up and staggering, sitting back down before you could get anything recorded; your phone became a permanent fixture in your hand.

“Did he walk yet?” Travis forwent any greetings as he entered the house, dropping his duffle bag down by the garage door. You were in the kitchen with Bubba, making dinner. “No, you didn’t miss anything.” You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, giving him a quick kiss. “Hi, baby, how are you? How was your weekend? Oh, it was good, nothing happened, just my husband texting me every hour on the hour.” You gave Travis a cocky grin, running through the conversation you usually had with him, this time one-sided.

“I’m sorry.” He placed another gentle kiss on your lips. “Did you have a good weekend?” You nodded, breaking away to turn back to the pot on the stove. “Yes, congrats on your win, babe. You’re just in time for dinner. Will you get the plates out? I was thinking we could eat and watch a movie?”

“Can we watch Gossip Girl, instead?” Travis asked you as he pulled out a couple of dishes from the cabinet. “Yes, of course”, you chuckled.

The two of you settled on the couch, Alex playing on his mat in front of the coffee table. He was always interested in trying any food that you were eating, standing up to cruise around the coffee table to get to you. You gave him a small bite of your chicken, which he really enjoyed. “He’s got your appetite.” You looked over at Travis who had already cleaned his plate. “What? I was really hungry.” He shrugged, getting up to get a second helping.

When Alex saw his dad heading back to the kitchen, he pulled himself up again, cruising around the coffee table until he reached the edge.

“Travis, baby, look!” Travis turned on his heels suddenly, just as Bubba let go of the table, taking his first step. Travis bent down, extending his arms out to him. “Come to Daddy, bub!” Alex only made it a couple more steps before he crawled the rest of the way to his dad, but it was still exciting all the same. “Good job, Alex!” Travis looked at you, tears brimming in his eyes. “See, Trav, you didn’t miss it. It’s like he waited for you to get back home. He knew how much you wanted to see him walk for the first time.”

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#travis kelce fluff #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce #nfl fan fic #nfl fic #nfl fluff #nfl imagine

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lvrhughes · 11 months

Text

Best Friend's Teammate| Q. Hughes

if this does not line up at all, I've never been to rogers arena during hockey season and I literally just chose the first canuck to come to mind to so that's why we've got Brock

word count: 1.9k

pairing: Quinn Hughes x f!reader, platonic!Brock Boeser x f!reader

summary: there’s a family skate and your best friend convinces you to come, the issue being you can’t skate. but he has a solution, the defence man you’ve been crushing on will teach you

warnings: pretty fluff, kissing, falling?

requested: no

not my gif!

“I can’t believe you’ve lived in Vancouver for the past three years and you still don’t know how to skate!” Your best friend, and pain in the ass, Brock exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes once again, the third time this week he’s brought it up.

“Why do keep bringing this up? What’s happening?” You finally pushed.

“There’s a family skate tomorrow and I want to bring you” he finally caved.

Of course there was a skating event Brock would want you to go to. You looked up at him, he had his best puppy dog eyes out and you knew he knew he’d won once you looked at him.

“Fine.” You muttered crossing your arms, “but you have to teach me”

“Deal!” He was radiating excitement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, 10 am sharp Y/n/n” he called walking the path towards his place while you continued to yours.

What the fuck had you just signed up for, oh god. You knew Brock, so why you still agreed you didn’t know. Brock would definitely get distracted and leave you like Bambi on ice tomorrow, hopefully Elias would help you. Maybe Quinn would be there.

Everyone could see the small little crush you were pining over the young defenseman. It was clear to everyone but Quinn.

The morning rolled around sooner than you would’ve liked, having to get up earlier then you’d want. You had to search for the pair of skates you had from when you once tried to skate, several years ago.

About 20 minutes after you did find them, Brock showed up at your door, he didn’t even bother to knock he simply walked in.

“Oh dear Y/n” he chanted through the house, snooping through the rooms for you.

“Bedroom” you called back and waited for him to come.

He came running in, sliding his socks along the hardwood floor.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, but you got to promise you won’t just leave me” you made him swear to that, even though he’d break it at some point.

The drive to the rink was the worst part, you had time to think it over. You, who couldn’t skate, surrounded by hockey players, children, and other adults that could skate, you were bound to embarrass yourself. You tried to shake the thought of face planting in front of everyone but you could, but Brock noticed.

“Calm down, you’ll be fine.” He words barely comforted you but it was enough for the two minutes before you made it in the rink.

“What am I doing here Brock, I’m going to die!” You exaggerated, he let out a chuckle.

“No your not”

“How do you know?”

“Because even if I’m not with you, Quinn’ll be” he beamed.

What did he say.

“I’m sorry what?”

“I got Quinn to help teach you.” Brock looked so proud, you were going to kill him.

“You” you pushed your finger against his chest, “are dead to me.”

You knew you were being dramatic but you also knew he knew it was a joke. The smile across his face said so.

“Come on Y/n/n, he’s like the best skater on the team” he bargained.

“hmph” was all you mumbled out before finding a bench and sitting. Brock followed behind you, carry both of yours skates.

“Let me put mine on then I’ll help you” he offered but by some ironic luck, Quinn was there.

“It’s fine Brock I can help her” Quinn offered, Brock quickly accepted for you.

And so you were sitting on a bench, with Quinn at your feet tying your skates, definitely not how you pictured your Sunday going. He stood up, placing his hand out for you.

“Are you ready?” He questioned, no, but nonetheless.

“I guess” you said grabbing his hand, trying to stand. You hadn’t realized how unstable you’d actually be on skates. You almost immediately fell back, but Quinn was faster, he arms wrapping around your waist to stop you.

He let out a small chuckle, helping you stand up completely.

“Do you want to try getting on ice now?”

“God no, but Brock will kill me if I don’t”

So he lead you towards the ice, you could see Brock doing laps, talking to children as they came to him. He made it look so easy. Fuck it, if he could do it you could too.

Quinn skillfully glided on to the ice, you already envied that ability. He took your hand again, helping you to keep steady when you stepped on.

“Okay, just hold my hands we’ll go slow at first” he was so calm and nervous at the same time it almost scared you. But you did as he said, you held his hand, like you life depended on it, and he slowly skated backwards.

“That's good, just copy what I’m doing” so you tried, and you did it the first few times. The was before you caught a divot in the ice.

“Fuck” you said almost falling atop of Quinn, you quickly rolled off him.

“I am so sorry” you were quick to apologize but ur didn’t seem to care, he had a small smile on his face.

“It’s fine. It happens” and with that he got up and helped you up. This time only taking one of your hands, you missed the warmth he gave but wouldn’t dare say that aloud.

“You remember how to push?”

“Yeah”

“Okay do that, it’s the same as before but now you're beside me.” He was so gentle explaining how to push and glide it made you think skating was the easiest thing in the world, you just couldn’t understand.

He let go of your hand, you shook a little bit but we’re soon comfortable. He skated a bit ahead.

“Okay, now skate to me.” He told you. He had so much confidence in your ability, you thought. But you tried.

You made your way over to Quinn, slowly but at least you didn’t fall. Pushing and gliding your feet like he had shown you.

“Perfect” he said once you’d reached him, he took your hand again. He pulled you closer to him and spun. Giggles left your mouth as he did, he thought it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Quinn I’m going to get dizzy!”

He slowed so you were just standing in his arms, it was peaceful. All the sound around had faded, it was just you and Quinn in that moment. His eyes stared down into yours, they were so beautiful.

He was so beautiful. That’s all you had figured out, he was gorgeous and you had a crush on him. Unintentionally your eyes darted to his lips, back they were quick to return to his eyes. You saw his eyes look to your lips quick before letting you out if his arms.

“Come on, let’s go get a hot chocolate, then more laps”

A slight disappointment filled you, but you knew Quinn was too good for you. So you skated beside him, still holding his hand, to get off the ice for a drink.

Once you two both had drinks, and had enough of them for the moment he put them beside all your stuff and brought you back on to the ice.

You skated laps beside him, some laps holding his hand, some without. You preferred the laps holding his hand. A shiver ran up your spine, Quinn noticed.

“Here” he said taking off and handing you the hoodie he was wearing.

“No it’s fine, you’ll get cold.”

“Y/n, I basically live on the best ice, I’ll be fine”

You had no argument against that so you took his hoodie, sliding it over your head. It was warm and smelt like him. You just wanted to curl up with it and never leave it.

Quinn’s heart melted at the sight, you in his hoodie, it was definitely too big for you, but he thought it was adorable.

“Y/n” Brock called, skating over before icing both you and Quinn.

“I see you learned to skate” he snickered towards the fact you were now wearing Quinn’s hoodie and holding his hand.

“Shut up”

“She’s actually doing really well” Quinn contributed. Brock just laughed in reply, almost challenging to what Quinn had just said.

You had to admit, you were extremely competitive and petty. So what Brock had did, gave you reason to try and skate better than him.

“I can skate.” You declared. “One lap and you have to admit that I can skate.”

He nodded, you let go of Quinn’s hand and began around. Brock followed beside you, Quinn behind. It was a peaceful lap, until a small child cut in front of you and if u didn’t try to stop you would’ve ran it over.

“Fuck” you mumbled, now sitting on the ice. Brock laughed.

“Oh shut up, that wasn’t even my fault!”

“I know but it was funny” he couldn’t stop laughing, until Quinn nudged him acknowledging the look in your face.

Quinn was quick to help you up, pulling you into his arms while. You hid your face in his chest, knowing they’d seen your reaction to the teasing. They didn’t need to see your reaction again, embarrassment overcoming whatever you were feeling before. Quinn wrapped his arms around you, it was nice. He was warm and smelt good. The urge to nuzzle yourself deeper in his chest was so strong, you made yourself pull away before you could give in.

“I think I’m done for the day.” You said, getting positioned to skate towards the gate.

“No I’m sorry I shouldn’t have laughed, please you were having so much fun with Quinn. Continue on, I’ll go find the team” Brock excused himself before you could deny, your feet were beginning to hurt making you want off the ice anyways.

“Fucker” you whispered under your breath, yet somehow Quinn still heard.

“Do you really want off?” He looked a bit sad, and you knew you couldn’t say no to the kicked-puppy look he had.

“My feet just hurt that’s all”

“If you want we can get off?”

“No it’s okay, let do some more laps”

He smiled, his smile was so pretty, god you were in love. So you did more laps with Quinn, staying on the ice until you had to leave.

Yet again right before getting of the small child appeared to trip you, this time onto Quinn. Your face flushed, now you laying on top of Quinn.

“I am so sorry”

You didn’t even get the extent of your apology out before Quinn kissed you, it shocked you. You froze for a second before melting into him. Your arms found a place around his neck, his wrapping around your waist to keep you on top of him.

You both did have to pull back for air eventually, much to both of yours disappointment. He helped you up from on top of him, on the ice, and pulled you against him again.

“I am so glad you didn’t yell at me” he laughed, placing a kiss on your head.

"Why would've I yelled at you?" A little confused, your tone laced with it.

"I mean I just kissed you, I didn't even ask." he was soft with his words almost embarrassed, you just smiled at him.

"I'd never yell at you, Quinn. I've loved you since we first met."

"Really? That was like three years ago." he seemed shocked, it was a little intimidating, you had to admit.

"I thought I was the only one" he admitted shortly after.

"You've loved me since then too?"

"How could I could I not?" He had a smile on his face, he was practically glowing.

"I love you so much, Quinn"

"I love you so much more"

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks #nhl imagine #mads writings!

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janeyseymour · 5 months

Note

this is my first time ever sending a request so lmk if i’m doing this right :)

was wondering if you could make a melissa x fem stoner reader. melissa isn’t aware of the habit and has no reason to be suspicious or bring things up. one day melissa comes unexpectedly comes home to find fem reader lighting up in the kitchen sparking a very interesting conversation

i love your writing and i hope this makes sense thank you :))

Hi! I think I deviated from the path a little... but I hope it still makes you smile!

*This has also been in the works for a week and I've just been so busy with teaching and the holidays... oh LAWD, so it's entirely unedited... my b, my b*

Weeds

WC: 3.3k

“Babe, are you sure you don’t want to come?” Melissa asks you one final time. She’s all but rolling her bag out to the car.

“I told you, Mel,” you chuckle. “You and Barb deserve to go have a nice relaxing weekend- just the two of you.”

“Barb wouldn’t mind,” the redhead tells you. “She loves you, and you know it.”

“I know,” you smile and take her hand gently. “But you two deserve to go have a nice weekend without the partners where you can talk shit all you want whenever you want.”

“Like I would ever talk shit on you,” she rolls her eyes.

“Go, baby,” you tell her gently. “I’ll be just fine on my own. I’ll probably catch up on sleep and grade some papers.”

“Okay,” she sighs. “But if anything happens, please call me, and I’ll come home.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m a fully grown adult, Mel. I lived on my own before I moved in with you,” you remind her.

“I know, I know,” she says quietly. “I just worry about you- especially with your migraines being worse around this time of year.”

“I have the medicine,” you tell her. “I’ll be just fine. Go.”

She kisses you gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you mumble against her lips. You pull back. “I expect to see lots of pictures- especially of you at the pool.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” your girlfriend laughs. “Okay, I have to go, but I’ll see you on Sunday night.”

“I’ll see you on Sunday night,” you reply. “Please let me know when you get there safely.”

“I will,” she promises and kisses you once more.

Your Friday night is nearly perfect. You’re able to do some laundry, you get the reading tests graded, you’re able to drink a few glasses of wine and curl up to watch a movie while you eat Chinese takeout. The only thing that could make it perfect would be if Melissa were next to you. Your girlfriend sends you a picture of her and her work wife together at the pool, drinks in hand.

You look amazing. Have fun, babe, you send.

We will, she replies quickly. You’re doing okay?

I did our laundry, graded my reading tests, ordered Chinese food, and I’m curled up drinking a glass of wine and watching Bruce Almighty- the sister in that movie looks a lot like you!

I’m glad you’re enjoying your Friday night, she texts. I’ll talk to you later, I love you.

I love you too Mel. Enjoy your time, and tell Barb I said hello.

You end up dozing on the couch, and when you wake up around midnight, the television is playing softly, you’re still all cozy up under your blankets, and your phone is laying next to you with a few unread messages.

Melissa sent you a picture of her drinking another glass of wine, her cleavage on full display.

No response?

I guess you fell asleep watching your movie like you usually do.

Barb and I are turning in for the night. I love you.

You save the image to your phone before responding, Sorry. Dozed off on the couch. I love you too.

Your head hurts slightly, and not just in the way that one glass of wine would give you a minor headache. Nope. The spot behind your temple starts to throb, and you clench your jaw. A migraine was coming on. You drag yourself off of the couch and into your bedroom where you blindly reach for the bottle of pills you keep in your nightstand. You take one and lay down, hoping that you took your medication soon enough that you’ll just be able to sleep through it and not have to deal with it tomorrow.

When you wake up again, you’re fine. There’s a trace of a headache, but you chalk that up to the fact that you had a few glasses of wine last night. You make yourself a cup of coffee, you heat up some of the breakfast casserole that Melissa left you, and you get comfortable on the couch with a blanket and the book that you’ve been trying to get through since before you and Melissa started dating- you just never have the time anymore. You’re either busy teaching, planning for your classes, prepping materials for the kids, grading papers, or you’re out doing something with your girlfriend.

You send her a picture of your set up: the blanket, the book, your coffee, and on the television you have a fireplace video with soft music going. Taking the day to relax after this insane week with the kids.

It’s early, earlier than the two of you usually wake up on a weekend, so you set your phone down and open your book. You get through approximately twenty pages before you’re asleep again.

When you wake up, you feel absolutely terrible. Your head is aching, and you’re not sure if you can even stand without wanting to simply shrivel up. So that headache this morning wasn’t the remnants of a hangover- no. It was a migraine starting, and you once again made a foolish choice.

You cry out as the sound of the youtube video you have up on the television pauses and a rather loud ad comes on. You turn it off in an instant. You know there has to be at least one other migraine pill in the house.

But when you get upstairs and pull open your drawer of the nightstand, your pill bottle is empty. You burst into tears at that- the last of your medication is with Melissa… in the Poconos. You slam the drawer shut in frustration before you can even think about it, and you instantly regret your choice. It bangs shut, and you flinch as it closes.

You’re just going to have to get through this migraine without any medication. It’s going to suck, and you know you’re going to be all but paralyzed when it fully hits.

You’re not going to call Melissa and tell her- she would drive back home to take care of you, even though you would be sleeping. You groan as you walk downstairs and turn off your phone entirely so you aren’t even tempted with the idea of texting her.

Then you think… you haven’t smoked in a while- since you and Melissa started going out, really. It’s been over a year.You have your dab pen in the nightstand drawer, and getting high always helped when you had bad headaches. It took your pain away.

Despite the absolute killer pain behind your eyes, you drag yourself upstairs and dig around in the drawer for your pen. You take a hit, and then another. That should do the trick- you just have to let it hit you. You head back downstairs, collapsing onto the couch and closing your eyes.

You’re beyond high not fifteen minutes later. It’s been almost two years since you’ve smoked, and it’s clear your tolerance for the drug went down. You giggle, thankful that your searing headache seems to have magically cleared up. You turn the television on, finding a brainless show to watch while you aren’t sober.

It starts to wear off after an hour, and so your migraine pains start up again. Your jaw clenches as a shiver runs up your back, only causing more pain to your already tense head. You trudge back up the steps, and you bring your pen down with you after ripping it a few times. You settle on the couch, a glass of water and a bag of chips in hand while you continue to watch your show.

Melissa and Barbara are sitting in a restaurant when the older teacher’s phone starts to ring. Taylor’s contact picture lights up her phone, and she shoots the redhead an apologetic look before picking up.

“Hello?” Barbara’s face shifts from confused, to concerned. “Okay, sweet girl… Is Daddy with you? …You hang tight. I’m on my way. I’m coming, don’t you worry… I’m in the Poconos so it might be a little, but Momma’s coming.”

“Barb?”

“I gotta- Taylor got into an accident. She’s okay, but she’s in the hospital,” the kindergarten teacher tells her friend quickly. She throws down her credit card. “I got lunch. Just give me my card on Monday.” She leaves the restaurant quickly.

Melissa glances at the card before throwing it in her bag. She’ll handle lunch. She finishes her meal, scrolling through her phone before texting you as she goes back up to her room to pack up her things.

Coming home early. Will explain when I get home, but just so you know. I love you.

Of course, you don’t see it.

You’ve just taken a few more rips from your dab pen, trying to stay as inebriated as possible to ride out this migraine- once it’s gone, you’ll put it away. It’s not like Melissa will be home before tomorrow anyway. She told you she would be back Sunday night, and it’s Saturday at two in the after-

“Hey hon?” Melissa’s voice floats through the front room. Your eyes are closed, so you’re fairly certain that you just miss your girlfriend so much that you’re imagining this. Your eyes stay closed.

“Y/N?” your girlfriend calls again. You still don’t respond. She only needs to catch half a glimpse at you to know something is up. You’re sprawled out on the couch, face down. You have the chip bag on the floor next to you and open- something you never do. The redhead only has to take a step into the room to see that you haven’t finished your coffee from this morning, and she knows you practically inhale any cup of caffeine you can get your hands on.

“Babe,” she says softly as she kneels down in front of you.

You’re so high. “Lissa?” you mumble, and your eyes just barely peel open. You know you’re imagining that she’s here. She’s not due to be here for another day. But you miss her so much.

“Y/N,” Melissa brushes a few rogue hairs out of your face. You giggle. Then she sees how red your eyes are. She spots your pen sticking out of your sweatpants pocket. “Are you… high?”

You shrug and attempt to sit up, only to realize that you’re on your stomach and not on your back. When you try to turn over, you nearly fall off the couch. If not for your girlfriend, you would be on the floor. You burst into laughter at that. The imaginary person just saved you from falling off the couch!

“Oh my god,” the redhead mumbles as she helps to situate you on the couch. “Honey, how high are you?”

“Really,” you drawl out. “But shh… don’t tell Lissa- she’ll come home to help, but she needs this weekend.”

Melissa shakes her head as she inspects your pen. “When was the last time you hit this?”

“Dunno,” you shake your head from side to side slowly. “Will wear off soon… gonna have to take another.”

“And why would you have to?” Your girlfriend questions.

“Helps with the migraine,” you let slip.

“You didn’t take your medication?”

“None left. Only with Mel, but… she’s away, ’n’ I don’ wanna bother her."

Melissa bites her lip. She knows she has a few pills in the car for you, but with how inebriated you are, she doesn’t know if that would be a good choice or not. “Why don’t we get you cozy in bed and we can sleep this off, yeah?”

“Bed sounds nice,” you mumble, eyes starting to close again. “Can’t feel m’legs. G’night.”

Melissa sighs a heavy sigh. She hoists your limp body into her arms and carries you up the stairs. She gently lays you in bed before crawling in behind you and spooning you. You’re asleep before she can even wrap her arms around you.

When you wake up, it’s dark. Your migraine is gone. You’re not even close to high anymore. How much time has passed? How did you get into bed? Whose arms are you- Melissa really is home. You roll over to look at the alarm clock: 7:20 pm staring back at you.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” your girlfriend whispers. “How are you feeling? Migraine gone?”

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “Why are you home though? Please tell me I didn’t text-”

“You didn’t. Taylor was in a minor car accident, and-”

“Oh god,” you gasp quietly. “Is she okay?”

“She’s just fine, but she wanted Barb, so we left early. I got home around two, and you were on the couch… high?”

You turn about as red as Melissa’s hair. “Y-yeah.”

“Babe, I didn’t know you did that stuff,” she sighs softly. She almost sounds disappointed in you.

“I- I usually don’t,” you mumble as you hide your face in her chest. You don’t want to see the look she’s giving you right now. “I haven’t since we started dating.”

“We started dating almost two years ago,” she points out.

“I know. I think I smoked once the second week we were seeing each other, but since then… I haven’t.”

“Why don’t we get some food into your stomach so your migraine doesn’t come back and a headache doesn’t start, and we can talk?” Melissa suggests. “I want to know more.”

“But while we cook, you tell me about your trip,” you try to barter. You don’t want her to just be grilling you for the entire night.

“While I cook, but sure,” she laughs softly as she rolls you off of her and sits up. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

She tells you about her car drive up and how she wished that you were with her to keep her company. She tells you about the crazy traffic she had to sit in because there was an accident by the one tunnel, and how happy she was to have finally gotten to the resort that they were to meet at. She tells you about how beautiful the rooms they had gotten were, and how Barb’s husband let them use his points, and her cousin Gino was able to hook her up with some of the perks and a free mini bar. She talks to you about how the pool had a fountain and that it was so nice to be away from the screaming children and just talk with Barb. And then she’s plating the food and sliding the plate down to where you’re sitting at the island.

“So, are we gonna talk about this?” she asks as she sits too.

You almost feel like a student again when they’re being reprimanded for talking in class. You nod, cheeks tinting red again. “What do you want to know?”

“Why didn’t you have any of your pills, and why didn’t you call me?”

“I had a migraine last night and took the last pill last night,” you mumble through a mouthful of pasta.

“And why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I knew you’d come running home, and you deserved to have this weekend away- especially after this week with your kids.”

“So you got high instead?” You nod. “Where did you even get this? Is it safe?”

You don’t want to rat yourself out, so you just nod.

“Where did you get it from?”

You purse your lips. “Can we not?”

“Why not? What’s in it? Just weed, right?” you nod. “So then what’s the big deal.”

“I used to be a stoner,” you mutter. “Like, a big fucking stoner.”

“Okay?”

“Like, I used to come home from my old school and just stay high until the I fell asleep because it helped with the pain and anxiety from that place.”

“You worked at a place worse than Abbott?”

“I told you when I showed up that Abbott was a walk in the park for me, and I meant it,” you tell your girlfriend seriously.

“So where’d you get it?"

“It’s all medicinal,” you promise her. “I just don’t like the smell of it all, and I have weird reactions to edibles, so… dab pens were the next choice.”

“If this helps your migraines, why haven’t you smoked around me before?”

“Because I have the medication… Because we’re teachers… it’s unprofessional,” you tell her. Then you mumble, “Because I didn’t want to lose you because of some stupid habit, so I quit. Just like I quit cigs when I started at Abbott and saw you.”

“You used to smoke cigs?”

“Oh god, yeah,” you chuckle. “But I found a new addiction… you.”

Your girlfriend rolls those striking green eyes of her. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s true,” you shrug. “So… are you mad?”

Melissa sighs. “I wish you would’ve called me so I could’ve come and helped you through that,” she admits. “But I’m not mad about the pen. I used to smoke too, and don’t act like that shocks you.”

Relief washes over you. She isn’t mad.

“So… you got high off of a pen that you haven’t used in almost two years?” your girlfriend asks.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “But I’m not worried. My friend Darcy put her cart in there like a month ago when we went out for dinner and forgot to take it out. She told me to just hold onto it until the next time.”

“You had your pen on you?”

“She was actually going to buy it off of me but decided against it. I guess it’s a good thing I had it this weekend,” you laugh. “I kinda missed that feeling.”

“I mean… if you wanted to,” she laughs. “We have nowhere to be tomorrow?”

“It’s okay,” you promise her. “I don’t want to be ridiculously high if you’re going to be sober and have to deal with me.”

“What if I said I want to try it with you?” the redhead suggests with a smirk. “It’s been… oh twenty years.”

“Really?” you can’t help but giggle.

And that’s how you find yourself and your girlfriend up in bed an hour later, getting ready to get high again. You have a bag of chips, a sleeve of cookies, a couple bottles of water, and a bucket in case Melissa greens out.

“You’re sure?” you give her one more chance to back out.

“I’ve been high before.”

“This shit is real strong.”

“How strong?”

“Like… I would take one small hit and see how it affects you in thirty minutes before you think about another.”

“Okay,” your girlfriend laughs. She brings the pen up to her mouth and inhales. You hit it twice after her.

“Hey!”

“Mel, I know my limit. We don’t know yours yet.”

“Well, I want it to be fair,” she tells you as she plucks the pen out of your hand and draws another hit.

When you wake up the next morning to a flood of texts from Janine asking why you left her a seven minute voicemail about dinosaur chicken nuggets, and Melissa has a message from Ava saying that she appreciated the call out from work for today but unfortunately you don’t work on Sundays, the two of you snort with laughter until you’re red in the face and she has tears streaming down her cheeks.

“We should get high together again,” you laugh as you sit up.

“I know,” she smiles as she continues to lay there. “That was fun.”

“I’ll buy a cart for us tomorrow on the way home from work,” you tell her.

“Don’t. I know a guy,” she shrugs as she throws the blankets off of her.

“Mel, I don’t want street weed. I’m not trying to die,” you roll your eyes.

“Who said anything about street weed? I know some guys in the field who won’t charge me a thing… as long as I make ‘em some raviolis.”

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